Chapter 2

The yacht started up immediately and sped off toward the distance. Kong Wenyu glanced back at the people on the cruise ship; in just a few seconds, even the deck was no longer visible.

Nie Jun remained standing there for a while longer, watching until the dark shape vanished completely.

Then he turned, walked back into the passage, pushed open the storage room door, and shone his phone’s light across the floor. Earlier, he’d heard something fall—he didn’t know what it was.

A few minutes later, near the baseboard by the door, he found a cufflink. It was a luxurious, mysterious design—a black swan—perfectly suited to Kong Wenyu.

Nie Jun examined it closely and noticed that one of the tiny diamonds on the tip of its wing was missing. He lowered his head and kept searching.

When someone passed by outside, he turned off his phone and held his breath in the dark. Once the footsteps faded, he resumed his careful search, checking every hidden corner methodically.

By now, the ship had already begun its return trip. The main lights in the hall flickered back on after being reconnected. Aoyong Wang stood in front of a mirror, inspecting the cut near the corner of his eye, his voice furious:
“Damn that Kong Wenyu. I swear I’ll kill him one day. Why did he suddenly back out? Did he catch wind of the drugging last time and find evidence?”

His assistant, holding tweezers and a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic, replied quietly,
“I handled that myself. No one knows.”

“Then why would he suddenly back out, and use that excuse about online transfers?” Aoyong Wang winced as the antiseptic stung his wound. “He must know something—that’s the only explanation.”

The assistant said, “Everyone knows Mr. Kong’s moods are unpredictable. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding.”

“Absolutely not.” Aoyong Wang’s expression darkened. “I know him. Sure, he’s always looking for trouble, making unreasonable demands, stirring up issues, going off the rails at any moment—but he wouldn’t just break a deal for no reason.”

“…Should I prepare a lawyer’s letter, Boss?” the assistant asked after applying the bandage.

Aoyong Wang raised a hand to cut him off.
“Send a lawyer’s letter to the fiancé of a wealthy heiress? She’d slap you across the face.”

The assistant immediately shut his mouth.

Aoyong Wang snorted. “Where are their people?”

“They’re all on the deck,” the assistant replied. “Mr. Kong is missing. Hai Ming says he might have fallen overboard and wants us to help search the waters.”

“Let him drown,” Aoyong Wang muttered. “Listening to his nonsense…”

Meanwhile, Nie Jun carefully wrapped the fallen diamond in a tissue, slipped it into his shirt pocket along with the black swan cufflink, and made his way out of the passage. Just as he stepped through the door, Kong Wenyu’s secretary stumbled toward him, startled:
“Who’s there?!”

Nie Jun looked at him for two seconds. “What are you doing here?”

Seeing that Nie Jun had no intention of harming him, the secretary hesitated, then nervously glanced toward the passage.
“Things got too chaotic earlier. My phone… I think I dropped it in there.”

Nie Jun didn’t respond.

The secretary fretted. “It’s full of Mr. Kong’s files. If I lose it, I’m finished.”

Nie Jun gave him a brief look, then turned back into the passage. “Wait here.”

The secretary stared at him, caught off guard by his composure. In the dim light, Nie Jun moved like some nocturnal animal, navigating the darkness as if it were nothing.

Footsteps echoed from the deck above—the ship must have been nearing the dock. The team leader had begun calling roll.

Just as the secretary began to think the phone might be lost for good, Nie Jun emerged from the dark passage. Without a word, he handed the phone over.
“The screen’s cracked.”

The secretary quickly entered the passcode, checked its contents, and breathed a huge sigh of relief.
“Thank heaven!”

After a moment’s pause, clutching the phone, he asked, “Are you… one of us?”

Nie Jun didn’t answer. He simply listened for movement.
“Time to go.”

He went ahead to scout the situation. Rather than take the direct route, he led the secretary on a wide detour, circling around to the other side before heading toward the deck.

On deck, Hai Ming was holding the suitcase, calling out names. Nie Jun silently stepped into the group. When Hai Ming asked, “Who hasn’t been checked off yet?” Nie Jun raised his hand.

“Me.”

He removed his cap, revealing sharp, dark eyebrows and eyes that caught the moonlight, his tall figure like a mountain beneath the night sky.

Hai Ming glanced at him, then looked around.
“Secretary—Secretary Ling, are you here?”

Ling raised his phone and waved.
“I’m here, Captain Hai!”

Hai Ming nodded, counted everyone again, then said, “Prepare to disembark.”

The cruise ship had already docked. Hai Ming escorted the secretary at the front, while the others followed closely, walking down the gangway.

Once they were all seated in the business van, Hai Ming sat next to Nie Jun and asked,
“What happened? Didn’t I tell you to grab the suitcase?”

Nie Jun pressed his lips together.
“Got delayed. It was too dark—I couldn’t see where it went.”

Hai Ming sighed, patted him on the shoulder in reassurance, and said, “Don’t dwell on it. There’ll be other chances.”

Nie Jun rubbed the side of the black swan cufflink in his pocket with his fingers. “Thank you, Captain.”

The mission ended that night. As per previous arrangements, the bonus would be transferred to their accounts at the end of the month.

Nie Jun wasn’t particularly motivated by money. In this city where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold, he had already bought a one-bedroom apartment. There was still some mortgage left, but according to his plan, it would be fully paid off within the year.

The apartment wasn’t large, but it was enough for him to live comfortably alone.

When he got home, the first thing he did was take a shower. Cleaned up, he pulled the black swan cufflink and the fallen diamond from his pocket and placed them on the table before tossing his clothes into the washing machine.

He sat down at the table, examined the loose diamond, and looked up the after-sales service phone number for that brand online. Then he called.

“Hello, is this Mr. Nie?” The customer service representative’s voice was gentle. “You just registered an after-sales request online for a black swan cufflink. Does it need repair?”

Nie Jun stared at the cufflink under the lamp, its polished surface catching the light. The image of Kong Wenyu’s pale, sharp jawline on the deck came back to him.

“Yes.”

“The repair cost for replacing the missing diamond is thirteen thousand yuan,” said the representative. “I’ll send you our address shortly. You can either bring it in or send it by mail.”

“Okay,” Nie Jun said. “Thank you.”

After hanging up, he found some bubble wrap, carefully packed the items, sealed them with tape, and set them aside, planning to take them to the courier station the next day.

Lying in bed later, he thought back to the moment when Kong Wenyu had asked him for a pen. It hit him belatedly—Kong probably wanted to write down his phone number, or some other form of contact.

…Regret.

He lay there holding the bubble-wrapped package in his hand.

Still, it wasn’t a big deal.

As summer crept in, the days grew hotter. Nie Jun woke up that morning because of the heat.

He rinsed off in a cold shower, put on the standard-issue black T-shirt, and headed to work.

At the duty office, he signed in. The secretary was there too. Seeing him come in, the man stood up with a smile.
“Nie Jun? The boss wants to see you.”

Nie Jun froze for a moment.

The secretary glanced at the clock and urged, “Hurry, he said within five minutes.”

Nie Jun checked the time, slipped on his jacket. “Let’s go.”

The secretary led him into the main building and opened the door to Kong Wenyu’s exclusive area.

Passing through the spacious circular hall, walking past layer after layer of heavy curtains that blocked the view, Nie Jun felt as though he were stepping into a spider’s lair.

Ling, the secretary, said, “Brother Jun, thank you for yesterday. Helping me retrieve my phone—it was a huge favor. If it had really been lost, I’d have been in serious trouble.”

“No need to thank me,” Nie Jun replied.

As Ling guided him down the long corridor, he sensed the heavy atmosphere and tried to reassure him:
“Once you go in, just answer what he asks. He probably—maybe—won’t give you a hard time.”

That “probably” and “maybe” added a faintly comic undertone. Before Nie Jun could respond, Ling chuckled first.
“Anyway, don’t worry too much.”

Nie Jun nodded and stopped outside the study with him.

The secretary entered a password, then verified his fingerprint.

Nie Jun glanced at the door—it was bulletproof. Forcibly breaking it would be nearly impossible in a short amount of time.

He looked at the secretary again and realized there was one quick way in:

—take Ling, the secretary, hostage.

Ling was unaware, walking ahead, and pushed the door open. Inside was a massive, heavy desk, a dark leather chair, and an entire wall of tall ebony bookshelves.

If Kong Wenyu were sitting here, the scene would be striking.

—Dressed in properly buttoned shirt and trousers, restrained to the point of asceticism, yet at the same time, with pale skin, crimson lips, and half-tied long hair trailing behind him—dangerously alluring.

Ling found a hidden mechanism within the row of bookshelves behind the desk.

As he pushed open the panel, he turned back with a smile to Nie Jun: “Call me if you need anything.”

Nie Jun hesitated for a moment and said, “There’s something I want to ask you.”

He rarely spoke with such uncertainty. Ling glanced at the time, saw there were still a few moments left, and said quickly, “Go ahead.”

Nie Jun looked at him. “About three years ago, in July—did Kong Wenyu go to the Usland Islands?”

“He did,” Ling answered immediately.

Kong Wenyu had traveled to countless places. Even as his secretary—arranging every detail of every trip—it would be nearly impossible to recall every date and destination so clearly.

Under Nie Jun’s scrutinizing gaze, Ling smiled and explained, “Because we went there many times. We returned in July, went again in early August, then once in March the next year—it was too cold then, some of the ice hadn’t melted, and we couldn’t disembark, so we had to turn back. The following July we went one last time, and we haven’t gone since.”

Nie Jun’s expression remained calm, as if he had only asked casually.

In truth, he had already confirmed this long ago. After seeing so many glimpses—just silhouettes and profiles—there was no need to ask again.

Ling asked, “Did Captain Hai tell you about it? He doesn’t know the reason. He wasn’t with us on that first trip.”

“You know the reason?” Nie Jun asked.

“I’m not sure,” Ling replied, then reminded him, “Brother Jun, your five minutes are up.”

Nie Jun didn’t ask further and stepped into the secret room. Ling closed the door behind him.

He walked past a stretch of neatly arranged shelving. After another step forward, the space opened up suddenly.

But the light was still dim. The room’s lights were off; only a large screen cast its glow, playing a film set during the French wartime era.

Kong Wenyu was seated in a sofa chair, leaning back. The screen’s shifting light fell over his features—dark where it was dark, bright where it was bright—like a cold-toned veil.

He was like that.

His features were sharp, his profile distant, the curve of his eyes an unspoken warning to keep away.

Yet when facing forward, with a softened expression, his face could look almost gentle—at certain, rare moments.

Nie Jun recalled his moonlit complexion.

Not from yesterday, but from three years ago, in July.

Suddenly, the film stopped. Kong Wenyu pressed pause, and the sound vanished with it.

The abrupt silence of the sealed space made Nie Jun’s ears ring.

“Turn on the lights.” The voice was cool, slightly husky, and commanding.

Nie Jun scanned the room, found a switch near the entrance, and after a few tries, managed to light the area in front of the screen.

“How did you know that’s where the switch was?” Kong Wenyu didn’t lift his gaze, still watching the massive screen. “Been here before?”

Nie Jun paused. “It looked like it might be.”

The room fell silent for a few seconds. Then Kong Wenyu let out a soft laugh. “Are you afraid of me?”

When he smiled, it felt like an immortal untouched by the mortal world—aloof, untainted—yet at the same time, as though he willingly sank into decadence.

Nie Jun didn’t answer. His tall frame cast a long, heavy shadow, like a mountain at night.

Kong Wenyu waited for a moment, then turned his head to look him up and down, finally letting his gaze settle on Nie Jun’s face.

Nie Jun stood motionless.

“You’re from Group A,” Kong Wenyu asked. “You were supposed to have the day off yesterday—why didn’t you?”

Nie Jun paused, then answered with measured precision: “I don’t need rest.”

“Don’t need it,” Kong Wenyu repeated slowly. After a beat, he asked in an unhurried tone, “Have I… seen you before?”

Nie Jun’s heart gave a small jolt. For a moment, he thought Kong Wenyu had remembered something.

But Kong Wenyu went on: “I feel like you look familiar.”

Nie Jun let out a quiet breath.

He hadn’t remembered anything at all.

Neither last night in that cramped storage room on the ship, nor that night much longer ago—a night of entanglement.