Ten minutes later, Nie Jun arrived outside Kong Wenyu’s bedroom, his body still damp from the shower.
The door was half open. He glanced inside but didn’t see Kong Wenyu. Just then, a message buzzed on his phone: Rooftop.
Nie Jun pocketed the phone and turned toward the emergency staircase, hurrying up the steps.
On the rooftop, the east side held a gym, while the southwest was a music room—two completely contrasting styles.
Above the music room was a half-glass skylight. At night, with the lights off, the moonlight streamed in just enough to fall across the black-and-white piano at the center of the room.
But Kong Wenyu wasn’t there.
Nie Jun scanned the room until he finally spotted him—tall, relaxed, standing beneath a rack full of violins. A faint smell of alcohol lingered in the air.
“From your place to here… that far? Took ten minutes?” Kong Wenyu asked.
“The lights were still on in the living room. I took the long way,” Nie Jun explained.
Kong Wenyu nodded thoughtfully, his gaze frank and unreadable.
“You showered?”
Nie Jun paused, didn’t reply.
Which only made Kong Wenyu laugh even more freely.
Despite staying up all night, there wasn’t a trace of fatigue on his face. Under the moonlight, he looked almost wild and free. Nie Jun was utterly transfixed, staring until that smile slowly faded.
“Wanna hear it again?”
Nie Jun’s eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the light, so instead he turned to look at the moonlit piano.
Kong Wenyu turned, picked out a violin, and leaned casually against the piano frame. He rested the instrument against the side of his chin. “Let’s switch it up.”
As soon as he finished speaking, music began to flow.
Once again—it was Mariage d’Amour.
Compared to the piano, the violin made it sound brighter, crisper. Kong Wenyu deliberately slowed the tempo, adding a more graceful, lingering quality.
His sharp, clean side profile, the wrist that moved like a curved blade, the strands of hair falling loosely across his forehead—
In the moonlight, Nie Jun could even see the flush on his cheeks, the dark lashes casting shadows over his skin.
The loose, soft robe fluttered with his movements, sometimes clinging to his waist and outlining a gentle curve. Every strand of hair, every gesture, seemed to exude confidence and ease.
Around them, the world was like a rippling sea. Above them, a silent moon. Nie Jun felt paralyzed—numb limbs, short breath—as if he’d been nailed to a cross.
Kong Wenyu set the violin back in its place and let out a sigh into the darkness. “It’s been a long time.”
Nie Jun didn’t ask why. He only said, “It was beautiful.”
Kong Wenyu replied as if to himself, “I’m not allowed to like things like that anymore. I’m supposed to talk contracts, read reports, be into R&D, love meetings… have a strong career mindset.”
Nie Jun watched him walk closer, listened as his tone shifted.
“Stay tonight.”
Dawn was approaching. Tonight was almost over.
Nie Jun looked at him.
Funny—he was taller than Kong Wenyu, but somehow it always felt like he was looking up at him.
He swallowed dryly and glanced at the variety of instruments around them. “You can play… all of these?”
Kong Wenyu followed his gaze around the room, then turned back with a soft laugh. “What are you thinking? I just said—stay tonight.”
Nie Jun finally caught on.
“Okay,” he said immediately. “I wasn’t planning to leave anyway.”
Kong Wenyu stared at him for a moment, then gave a smile that hinted at something more. “Seems like you still don’t get what I meant.”
“I mean—” Kong Wenyu took two slow steps forward, his hand rising to press gently against him, tracing the raised lines of his body, up and down, slowly. “I want you to take good care of me.”
Nie Jun didn’t step back.
He stayed where he was, blood rushing to his head, ears ringing.
“I’m getting on top and doing the work myself,” Kong Wenyu said, his words blunt and unfiltered, yet his hands remained gentle. “Want a drink?”
Nie Jun wanted badly to reach out and trace the elegant line of Kong Wenyu’s neck—follow that curve all the way down to his waist, to block off any path of retreat.
His gaze was far too blatant. The moment he moved, even slightly, Kong Wenyu hushed him with a quiet, warning murmur: “Don’t move.”
His hands kept going, but he didn’t allow Nie Jun to respond.
And his eyes—always playful—like a man toying with his prey.
“Why the blank expression?” Kong Wenyu raised a brow. “What about now?”
Nie Jun’s throat worked. “What is it you want to see?”
Kong Wenyu didn’t answer directly. Instead, he pressed harder, and got what he wanted—Nie Jun’s brows knitting slightly, his gaze growing darker and heavier.
It wasn’t just his lower abdomen—Nie Jun’s entire body was taut, jaw clenched tight, each line of him drawn sharp.
Kong Wenyu withdrew his hand, shifted to a more soothing touch, then reached further—unzipping him slowly.
“With your hand?” Nie Jun asked.
“Just an appetizer.” Kong Wenyu leaned in close, their skin brushing. The heat between them flared. “Jun-ge, tonight—you’re my spoil of war.”
At 7 a.m., the phone on the nightstand rang.
Kong Wenyu grabbed it with a scowl. “What?”
“You’re still sleeping?” the voice on the other end practically shouted. “Good news—Long family squeezed the Chang family out of the baby’s one-month banquet. They just called the hotel and postponed it to a hundred-day celebration instead. Said the baby had pneumonia and had to be hospitalized—some excuse about weak immunity. Anyway, that opens up the main hall for Second Aunt’s engagement party!”
But Kong Wenyu didn’t seem excited at all. He grunted a half-hearted “Mm” and cleared his scratchy throat. “Might have to change it to a wedding banquet instead. That marriage announcement’s still up.”
Fu Xi’s voice shot up an octave. “What the hell happened last night? The news blew up! Word is Second Aunt already started a fight with Ao Yongwang.”
“I just went to bed,” Kong Wenyu muttered, glancing to the side.
Nie Jun was already half-awake, eyes open, quietly watching him.
“…Hanging up now.”
“When you throw the celebration, I’ll book the private room,” Fu Xi said cheerfully. “Bring your bodyguard too.”
Kong Wenyu said they’d see, then hung up.
Nie Jun sat up and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Get a bit more sleep?”
Kong Wenyu had pulled an all-nighter—mental work in the first half, physical in the second. At this point, he didn’t even want to lift a finger.
“Mm.” He shut his eyes.
Nie Jun stroked the soft ends of his hair, tracing the contours of his face openly and unabashedly with his gaze.
The phone on the nightstand rang again. Kong Wenyu completely lost his patience. “Turn it off.”
Nie Jun picked up the phone and glanced at the screen. Mrs. Kong.
“It’s your mom,” he said quietly.
“Hang up,” Kong Wenyu snapped irritably.
He reached out, grabbed the constantly buzzing phone, powered it off, and tossed it aside.
Two minutes later, there was a knock at the bedroom door.
Nie Jun froze. He quickly got out of bed, searching for his clothes while slipping into his pants. Half-dressed, he ducked into the walk-in closet.
At that moment, a voice came from outside the door. It was Hai Ming: “Madam says to come down for breakfast. There’ll be guests soon, and she wants you to help get ready.”
Kong Wenyu didn’t respond.
“The Long family will be here too,” Hai Ming insisted. “Madam says you must be downstairs in ten minutes, or she’ll come up herself.”
Two more minutes passed. The door was knocked again, softer this time. Aunt Zhu peeked in. “Are you awake? Should I come clean the room?”
Clearly, Man Mingzhi was dead set on dragging Kong Wenyu out of bed.
Hai Ming shook his head. Aunt Zhu backed out and said, “Then I’ll start with the closet.”
Inside the closet, Nie Jun—who’d been listening with his ear to the wall—suddenly froze. Out in the hallway, he could already hear Aunt Zhu’s light, quick footsteps heading his way.
For a moment, Nie Jun was stuck. He looked around—coat rack, accessories cabinet—and then his eyes landed on Shola’s moon-shaped dog door.
He hesitated.
Kong Wenyu, now fully awake, tilted his head toward the closet. He’d heard everything.
Kong Wenyu got up to wash up, and Hai Ming stepped out to wait.
Toothbrush still buzzing in his mouth, Kong Wenyu leaned against the door between the bedroom and the walk-in closet, scanning for any sign of Nie Jun.
Aunt Zhu, who had just finished wiping down the leather sofa, looked up in surprise. “You need the closet now?”
Kong Wenyu didn’t find anyone inside. “No,” he said, turning back to finish brushing his teeth.
Ten minutes later, he came yawning down the stairs and spotted Nie Jun standing silently by the living room entrance, just like always.
“Why is it always him on duty?” Kong Wenyu asked, jerking his chin in Nie Jun’s direction.
Hai Ming glanced up, puzzled. “He’s not even scheduled today. I’ll check on that.”
As Kong Wenyu came down the stairs, Man Mingzhi was already seated at the dining table—rarely, she was waiting to have breakfast with him.
“No need to wait for me next time,” Kong Wenyu said, sliding into the seat across from her. “Still tired.”
“Even the dog’s up, and you’re still sleeping,” Man Mingzhi muttered, glancing at Shola, who was peering down from the stairs. “Now’s the time to strike. Every shareholder is wide awake watching this, and you’re the only one who can sleep through it.”
Kong Wenyu mustered just enough energy to lazily stir his porridge with a spoon.
Man Mingzhi nodded at Hai Ming.
“Second Aunt’s driver was kidnapped last night,” Hai Ming reported. “They found him around dawn, unconscious in the black Mercedes he usually drives.”
Everyone turned to look at Kong Wenyu.
“Wasn’t me,” he shrugged.
“I didn’t think you were that competent,” Man Mingzhi said dryly.
Hai Ming continued, “Security footage shows the timeline. When the driver came to, he said the kidnapper was tall and handsome—built like a bodyguard. Second Aunt immediately guessed it was Ao Qingqing’s guy, the one called Little Wolf.”
Kong Wenyu looked up. “Why would Ao Qingqing kidnap him?”
“I’m wondering the same thing,” said Man Mingzhi. “Could that girl actually be into you and trying to help?”
Kong Wenyu gave a sarcastic snort and gestured for Hai Ming to go on.
Hai Ming paused, then said, “Apparently Ao Yongwang was also locked up all night by Ao Qingqing. This morning was the first time he managed to get in touch with Second Aunt again—just confirming it was all Ao Qingqing’s doing. She took the risk for the sake of the business partnership. So far, she’s denying everything.”
Kong Wenyu thought for a beat. “Ask her if she needs backup.”
Man Mingzhi raised an eyebrow and stared at him. Hai Ming did too.
“So you two get along better than I thought,” Man Mingzhi said.
Kong Wenyu caught a glimpse of Nie Jun out of the corner of his eye—head slightly lowered, staring blankly at some distant point.
“You’ve always had an active imagination,” Kong Wenyu said without looking back.
Man Mingzhi sneered, “You announced last night that Ao Qingqing’s company would be your partner. That just made it official—you’re on her side. Once Kong Lingru finishes tying up her end, she’ll come for you. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Then I guess I’d better stir the pot before she gets here,” Kong Wenyu said lazily. He turned to Hai Ming. “Send Second Aunt the recording of my conversation with Ao Yongwang in that private room. Let her know not to get free too soon.”
Man Mingzhi watched him for a moment.
Kong Wenyu grinned. “This time, Ao Yongwang’s got no way to deny it.”
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