After hanging up, Nie Jun grabbed Kong Wenyu’s clothes and went to find him.
The screening room was behind the study, but Nie Jun had neither the password nor fingerprint access to enter the study itself.
At this hour, he wasn’t sure if Secretary Ling was still awake.
Shola was lying near the study door. The moment she saw him, she jumped up happily, tail wagging. Nie Jun stared at her and hushed softly.
Shola stayed cheerful but didn’t bark.
Nie Jun patted his pockets and found a small piece of oat energy bar. He tore the wrapper. “Sit.”
Shola tilted her head at the biscuit but didn’t move.
Nie Jun gave it a little shake, then extended his other hand and made a downward motion twice.
Shola looked confused, then slowly sat down on the floor.
“Good girl,” Nie Jun said, feeding her the small piece of biscuit.
The door behind Shola wasn’t fully closed. Nie Jun pushed it slightly and peeked inside. He noticed that the hidden door beyond was also ajar, which made him quietly exhale in relief.
He stepped inside, glanced back at Shola, then shut the door tightly behind him. The click of the lock sounded as he walked around the desk and pushed open the hidden door to the screening room.
Kong Wenyu was selecting a movie.
Hearing movement, he turned his head slightly. His gaze was calmer than it had been when he got out of the car earlier—though maybe that was just because the dim lighting made it harder to see.
“What do you want to watch?” he asked.
It was extremely dark in there, a classic home-theater setup. The light from the screen was a stark, cold white that made human skin look almost inorganic.
Nie Jun stepped forward and held out a tote bag. Inside were Kong Wenyu’s freshly washed clothes.
The owner glanced down at it but didn’t reach for it. “What’s this?”
“You left these behind,” Nie Jun said, arm still extended. “I washed them.”
Kong Wenyu leaned back in the spacious seat, brows perfectly still—almost frozen.
Nie Jun thought for a moment. “I’ll just put them in the cloakroom later.”
Kong Wenyu looked away and selected a movie from the recommendations. As the opening credits began to play and soft background music filled the room, he asked, “You’d rather I not come over again?”
“I’ve prepared a new set,” Nie Jun said. “You can come anytime. You’re welcome.”
Kong Wenyu’s expression softened slightly, though his tone remained cool.
“Sit.” He gestured toward the seat next to him.
Nie Jun hesitated, then sat down. The seat was wide enough for two grown men without feeling crowded.
Kong Wenyu pressed a button on the remote. A panel rose from the armrest, revealing a teapot that automatically began heating water, the quiet hiss of steam soon filling the air.
“Pour your own if you want some,” Kong Wenyu said.
“Mm,” Nie Jun murmured, facing the movie screen—but his peripheral vision kept drifting toward Kong Wenyu’s profile.
Soon the opening credits ended, and a tiny white, fluffy puppy appeared on the screen, looking like a little snowball.
A hint of a smile touched Kong Wenyu’s eyes. “That’s Shola when she was a puppy.”
Nie Jun focused on the image, but it disappeared almost instantly as the film cut to the next scene.
After a moment, Kong Wenyu suddenly said, “You don’t like watching movies?”
Nie Jun cleared his throat. “I do.”
“Then why aren’t you watching?”
Nie Jun’s peripheral gaze was caught head-on. He wanted to explain himself but realized that no matter what he said, it would probably sound impolite.
He shifted his eyes to the big screen, trying to appear more focused, but Kong Wenyu raised his hand and hit pause.
Nie Jun froze for a second.
Kong Wenyu turned his head toward him and suddenly asked, “That bank card you showed me the other day—the one with the balance—how did you save up that much?”
Nie Jun didn’t understand why he was bringing this up, since that day Kong Wenyu’s expression had seemed completely indifferent to it.
The corner of Kong Wenyu’s lips tilted slightly. “You don’t make that kind of money just by being a bodyguard.”
Nie Jun explained, “I used to take on missions. The pay for those was higher.”
He thought for a moment, then carefully added, “I have three properties. One of them is the one you visited the other day. The other two are in the south and overseas. I bought the overseas one because it’s convenient as a stopover when I’m on assignments and need to lay low. The one down south was a joint purchase with a friend—we bought them together to keep each other company. They’re all small units, not expensive, just places to stay during breaks. This one here is…”
“‘Company,’” Kong Wenyu cut in sharply, “what kind of friend?”
“A close buddy,” Nie Jun explained. “We used to go on missions together. Living near each other meant we could watch each other’s backs.”
Kong Wenyu stayed silent, holding the remote, clearly in no rush to continue the movie. “Why did you buy this place?”
“Because it’s close to the Kong family’s house,” Nie Jun said without hesitation. “It’s convenient for work.”
“That’s quite an investment for you. Haven’t you considered that you might change jobs in the future?”
“No.”
“Then why haven’t you paid off the mortgage completely?” Kong Wenyu asked. “Are you keeping it flexible, ready to walk away anytime without committing too much?”
“No,” Nie Jun replied. “The real estate agent said leaving a loan helps him earn more commission. I didn’t really mind…”
Kong Wenyu’s lips curved slightly. “What kind of real estate agent uses that as a reason—and acts cute?”
“…,” Nie Jun faltered, then forced himself to continue. “He wasn’t being cute. He handled the paperwork, and I just told him anything was fine.”
Kong Wenyu stared at him for several seconds before finally looking away, clearing his throat. “Go on.”
Nie Jun’s fingers rubbed lightly against the seam of his pants. “If you ever need to find me, you can check any of those places.”
He expected Kong Wenyu to say something like, “Why would I need to find you?” or “What would I want with you?”
But Kong Wenyu didn’t. After a brief silence, he said instead, “I’m getting engaged—to the Long family.”
That was probably what he had intended to say from the beginning.
The conversation he’d had that morning with Yu Jiaduo still echoed faintly in Nie Jun’s mind. He looked at Kong Wenyu for a long moment. “That’s good.”
Kong Wenyu paused. “What’s good about it?”
Nie Jun turned his gaze away. “Miss Long is gentler than Miss Ao. She suits you better.”
Kong Wenyu lifted his eyes to him.
It was rare for him to look at anyone this intently.
“If you have something you want to ask,” he said, “say it now.”
Ask what?
Ask what would happen to them in the future, ask if he still planned to visit that small one-bedroom apartment, ask whether he really had to get engaged?
“What do you want?” Kong Wenyu’s gaze remained fixed on him. They were sitting close, but his eyes felt distant. “I’ll compensate you.”
Nie Jun almost never questioned him. Normally, whatever Kong Wenyu said, he would carry out without hesitation. But this time, he asked, “Do you mean anything I want?”
“Tell me.”
Nie Jun stayed silent for a moment, then quietly asked, “I’ve never had the chance to ask—those multiple trips you made over the past three years to the Usland islands… what were you trying to find?”
Kong Wenyu lowered his lashes, but the sharpness in his gaze cut through nonetheless, scrutinizing him.
His gaze carried a heavy, pressing force. In recent years, his time at negotiation tables had increased, and time had given him that uncompromising dominance.
In the dimness, Nie Jun’s hand tightened where it rested on the seat. “Do you remember—on the ship, you met someone.”
Kong Wenyu didn’t move, and in the shadows his eyes revealed nothing.
Nie Jun’s tension spiked for no reason. “On the deck. That day the sea wind was strong, but it wasn’t cold.”
Kong Wenyu lowered those lashes that seemed darker and denser than most people’s. After a moment, his thin lips moved. “I remember.”
Nie Jun exhaled sharply, relief washing through him. He wanted to confirm that Kong Wenyu hadn’t forgotten what happened that day. “Then do you still remember that you…”
“I remember,” Kong Wenyu interrupted. “You hid me in the storage room.”
Nie Jun froze for a beat. “…On the day of the return trip, I waited for you on deck for a long time. When the ship docked, I saw you disembark and get into a black Mercedes. I checked the license plate and figured out your city.”
The tension in Kong Wenyu’s shoulders eased slightly, and his expression softened a fraction.
“So, you do know how to say that much,” his voice came out a bit rough, tinged with a kind of mockery that wasn’t truly mocking.
He didn’t answer Nie Jun’s unspoken question. Instead, his tone remained calm: “Why were you looking for me? It was a chance encounter. You came to the Kong family, stayed close to me—what’s your real purpose?”
Nie Jun wanted to know that too.
He had looked so vulnerable then—alone, unprotected, still young—standing at the bow of the ship with the wind whipping around him, drugged and defenseless.
What if, after they reached shore, people had continued to bully or exploit him?
Nie Jun felt no trace of humor.
He looked straight into Kong Wenyu’s eyes, his own serious and steady, as if he were back on that ship adrift at sea. “I wanted to see you. On the ship, you’d been drugged. I thought maybe your life afterward… wouldn’t be easy.”
“Just to see me?” Kong Wenyu asked. “You didn’t want to help me?”
Nie Jun stayed silent, which in itself was an admission.
Kong Wenyu let out a brief laugh and placed his hand lightly on the back of Nie Jun’s hand, brushing it gently.
His hand was cooler than normal, but not cold. When it touched, it felt like a piece of smooth, fine silk laid softly against the skin.
Nie Jun’s hand twitched slightly but didn’t pull away.
Kong Wenyu then curled his fingers around Nie Jun’s and asked, “What exactly were you planning to do to help me?”
Nie Jun lowered his eyes to their interlocked hands and stated simply, “You didn’t need any help.”
Kong Wenyu let go. “Then what? What were you planning to do?”
Nie Jun turned his hand and gripped his instead, the sudden heat warming that cool skin instantly.
Kong Wenyu looked at him, and Nie Jun’s throat moved. “What about you? Did you ever try to find me?”
Kong Wenyu stared at him for a few seconds without moving, then shifted his gaze to their joined hands.
Nie Jun kept his eyes on him, those dark pupils like the surface of a midnight sea. “Are you only planning to sleep with me, Kong Wenyu?”
Kong Wenyu raised his eyes and locked onto his. After a moment, he pulled his hand free. “Then do it.”
Nie Jun blinked. “What?”
Before he could say the refusal that instinctively rose to his lips, Kong Wenyu, as if expecting it, countered, “Why are you surprised? I’m only switching from Miss Ao to Miss Long. In the future, maybe it’ll be Miss Li or Miss Wang. What’s the difference? Our relationship won’t change.”
Nie Jun looked at him for a long time. Only when his hands started to go numb and his heartbeat settled back to normal did he turn his gaze away. “No difference.”
He slipped back into that same quiet, unresisting posture—like a wolf broken in and tamed.
“Look at me,” Kong Wenyu ordered.
Nie Jun turned his head and looked at him again.
Kong Wenyu leaned back further until he was fully resting against the seat, even tilting his head back. “Kiss me.”
Nie Jun felt both mentally foggy and strangely calm.
After a brief, silent standoff, he stepped forward, lowered his head, and kissed him.
Kong Wenyu didn’t respond. Just as Nie Jun was about to deepen the kiss, Kong Wenyu pushed him away, his lips flushed red, his gaze firm and commanding: “Take off my clothes.”
Nie Jun’s dark eyes locked onto him, deep and intense.
He had always been like this—saying something once and expecting it to be done. No one could defy or challenge his authority, especially not on his own turf.
Nie Jun reached for the remote, pressed a button, and lowered the lift table to clear space.
Kong Wenyu’s posture was relaxed as he studied Nie Jun’s broad shoulders and straight nose, almost as if he were examining a piece of art.
Without a word, Nie Jun reached to untie his robe. It came undone easily, revealing skin that gleamed with a cool luster.
His hand paused at Kong Wenyu’s neck, tracing along the line of his throat twice, his thumb stopping at the hollow of his throat.
Kong Wenyu tilted his head slightly upward.
Perhaps the feeling of placing his fate in someone else’s hands wasn’t pleasant, because he reached up, grasped Nie Jun’s wrist, and said almost as a reward, “I did go looking for you.”
Nie Jun’s breath caught.
Kong Wenyu’s thumb rubbed lightly over the bone that jutted at the side of his wrist, a subtle, almost coaxing gesture.
“You saw it yourself—my second aunt has always wanted me out of the board. The ‘old guard’ my father left behind only cares about their own profits. For now, they support me, but one day they’ll back her instead. My mother was right—if I don’t act quickly, I’ll be finished. Even the butler’s on her side now.”
He let out a short, cold laugh, though his expression showed a kind of fierce anticipation. “Everyone’s hiding their own agenda.”
Nie Jun’s hand had already slid to his lower back when Kong Wenyu shifted and tilted his head up. “Use your mouth first.”
Nie Jun glanced downward but didn’t move.
He was still fully dressed, the zipper of his jacket grazing the underside of his chin, every line of his body restrained.
Kong Wenyu pressed down lightly on his shoulder.
Nie Jun was silent for a moment before releasing him, then knelt.
Every muscle in Kong Wenyu’s body tensed. “…I’m short on people—in all respects. I think you’re pretty good. Maybe you could be one of mine.”
As he leaned back, a faint frown tugged at his brow, his gaze momentarily losing focus. “Are you mine?”
Nie Jun paused briefly. “Yes.”
Kong Wenyu steadied himself, then reached out and pulled him back up.
They were close enough to see each individual lash. In a low voice, Nie Jun asked, “Can I kiss you?”
“Anywhere you want.” As encouragement, Kong Wenyu was generous. “I remember you didn’t used to waste so many words. I can’t quite tell—was what I felt in that storage room so good because of you, or just because I’d been drugged?”
Nie Jun lowered his head and kissed him hard, so forcefully that Kong Wenyu felt as though his lips were nearly bitten.
He didn’t bother with such small matters. Instead, he found Nie Jun’s aggression to have a kind of raw, compelling sensuality.
It was actually good. He needed nights that came at him like a storm, overwhelming and absolute. Tenderness had never suited a man like him.
