Chapter 5

Soft rustling followed, then the faint sound of bare feet pressing into the carpet—quiet, but in that still space, it carried an inexplicably heavy undertone.

Kong Wenyu walked toward him at an unhurried pace. The wide robe he wore was loosely tied at the waist, tracing out a slender, graceful line.

“What’s in your pocket?” He circled around him, scrutinizing him. His steps were slow, unhurried; the hem of his robe swayed in the air, brushing against Nie Jun’s knee as he turned.

Nie Jun didn’t answer.

The next moment, Kong Wenyu’s cool hand touched his upper shoulder.

“If you hadn’t bent down to pick something up,” Kong Wenyu said, stopping in front of him and looking down, “you wouldn’t have taken that hit.”

When he looked down at someone, he was the complete opposite of when he looked up.

The former—aloof, untouchable, as though he could decide a person’s fate with a flick of his wrist. The latter—uncertain, almost pleading, like something that would shatter at the slightest touch.

The spot on Nie Jun’s back where he’d been touched burned as if it might catch fire. He drew in a sharp breath.

Then Kong Wenyu abruptly reached out and tilted his chin up, forcing Nie Jun to meet his gaze.

“What are you thinking?”

Through the shadow of his lashes, Nie Jun stared back at him.

“Disappointment. Want. Possession—” Kong Wenyu studied him for a while, then concluded, “What is it you want?”

Nie Jun didn’t answer. He just looked at him in silence.

Kong Wenyu seemed puzzled by that—and not entirely pleased. After another brief examination, he let go and gave him a small push.

Nie Jun rocked back, then straightened, his gaze dropping once more.

Kong Wenyu sank back into the wide leather armchair. His tone was flat, indifferent. “If you won’t follow orders, then get out.”

Nie Jun froze, caught off guard.

“During work hours, you don’t get to hide things from your employer.” Kong Wenyu’s voice was as cool as his fingers. “You’re fired.”

Nie Jun stood there, genuinely stunned.

His hand tightened against his shirt, then loosened—as if he’d made up his mind. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the bubble-wrapped item, and held it in his palm for Kong Wenyu to see.

Kong Wenyu glanced at it, frowning. “What’s that?”

“A cufflink,” Nie Jun replied. “I picked it up on the boat last night. It’s chipped. The after-sales service said it can be repaired.”

Kong Wenyu didn’t touch it. From his expression, he seemed to be recalling which cufflink it might be.

Nie Jun added, “The black swan one. I was planning to have it fixed and give it to Secretary Ling.”

“How much to repair it?” Kong Wenyu asked.

“Ten thousand.”

“Figures you’re not short on cash,” Kong Wenyu said.

Nie Jun kept holding it out.

Kong Wenyu looked at him for a few seconds. “You don’t need to hand it over. Keep it. You can get reimbursed for the repair cost.”

Nie Jun hesitated. “That’s not why I picked it up.”

“I know.” Kong Wenyu cut him off and asked again, “What do you want?”

Nie Jun thought for a moment. “I don’t want to be fired.”

Kong Wenyu paused—silent for a beat—then gave a short laugh without sound. He raised a hand, gesturing for Nie Jun to stand.

Nie Jun seized the moment to ask, “Can I stay?”

“That’s all you want?”

“Yes.”

Kong Wenyu nodded. “Fine.”

While putting his shirt back on, Nie Jun said, “Thank you.”

Something flickered in Kong Wenyu’s eyes. He looked as if he were about to say something, then closed his mouth and swallowed it.

Nie Jun slipped the cufflink back into his pocket, intending to have it repaired and returned later.

“As a reward for being obedient,” Kong Wenyu said, “go to the secretary and get the other one from the pair.”

Nie Jun’s hands stilled.

Kong Wenyu seemed to be in a good mood; even his tone softened. “Do you have a pen?”

Nie Jun didn’t. Again, he felt a pang of regret.

“I can remember. Just say it.”

Kong Wenyu really did recite a string of numbers, then said, “You saved me on the boat. I’m not someone who doesn’t know the difference between reward and punishment. If you ever need anything, you can call me anytime.”

Nie Jun memorized the simple, easy-to-remember phone number. “Okay.”

“Just one thing—don’t hide anything from me in the future,” Kong Wenyu said.

Nie Jun felt he needed to respond. He could sense that once this matter was settled, after today, Kong Wenyu wouldn’t seek him out again.

“I’ll do as I’m told,” Nie Jun said.

Kong Wenyu glanced at him.

“You can ask me to do anything,” Nie Jun added.

After a long pause, Kong Wenyu raised his eyebrows. “Anything?”

“Yes.”

Kong Wenyu studied him. “That bodyguard Aoyongwang left at the cabin door last night—could you beat him?”

“Yes.”

“So sure?”

“We could try sometime,” Nie Jun replied, a bit more modestly. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Kong Wenyu smiled again, seemingly amused by his change in attitude.

“Who’s stronger—you or Hai Ming?” he asked.

“We’ve never fought,” Nie Jun said.

Kong Wenyu thought for a moment, glanced at his injuries. “Can you fight today?”

“Yes.”

“You’re injured, and you can still fight?”

“Yes.”

Kong Wenyu looked at him. “This time there’s no prize money if you win.”

Nie Jun lowered his gaze. “I don’t want money.”

“Then what do you want?”

Nie Jun paused. After a while, he answered, “If you want me to fight, I’ll fight.”

Kong Wenyu stared at him for several seconds, then picked up his phone and called the secretary. “Bring Hai Ming in.”

Nie Jun’s first thought was that dressed like this, with his collar half open in such a private space, it wasn’t appropriate to be seen by anyone else.

After hanging up, Kong Wenyu glanced at him. “What, are you scared?”

Nie Jun hesitated. “No.”

Hai Ming arrived quickly—definitely within five minutes.

When he entered, he walked straight over, first glancing at Nie Jun, who stood quietly to the side, then looking at Kong Wenyu. “Boss.”

When Kong Wenyu’s father was alive, people called him Mr. Kong. After his father’s passing, Kong Wenyu was still young, and people avoided that title to prevent stirring grief.

But continuing to call him “Young Master” didn’t feel appropriate either, so over time, it shifted to “Boss.”

Kong Wenyu didn’t care about titles. “Tomorrow’s banquet—bring a few more men along. They’ll need help maintaining order.”

Hai Ming agreed, then asked, “Should I stay close to you?”

“Not too close,” Kong Wenyu said casually, reclining against the leather chair, head tilted back. “You and Nie Jun.”

Nie Jun had been waiting for the order to spar with Hai Ming, but it didn’t come. At those words, he looked up.

Hai Ming glanced at him in surprise, and Kong Wenyu, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, said, “What, is there a problem with him?”

“No problem,” Hai Ming replied quickly.

“No problem at all?” Kong Wenyu pressed.

Nie Jun would likely have stayed silent, but Hai Ming, who’d dealt with him longer and knew his temperament better, answered, “He’s good. Fast reflexes. Having him along makes things safer.”

Kong Wenyu kept his gaze on the large screen, unmoving.

Hai Ming added, “It’s just that he’s injured. Tomorrow’s assignment might be affected. I was planning to give him three days off, let him recover before sending him out.”

“I’m fine,” Nie Jun said proactively.

Kong Wenyu’s expression didn’t change. He simply continued giving instructions: “Reimburse his medical expenses. Add a hardship allowance. Handle his leave as you see fit.”

“Yes,” Hai Ming replied.

Nie Jun was just about to say there was no need, but Kong Wenyu, still maintaining that casual, unconcerned air, said, “Go.”

He hadn’t mentioned anything to Hai Ming about sparring, as if he’d never actually intended to have them fight.

Nie Jun glanced at him but could only see his long eyelashes, sharply defined under the glow from the big screen.

Hai Ming gave him a quick look. Nie Jun turned and walked out with him, when Kong Wenyu’s voice came from behind: “Wait.”

Nie Jun stopped in his tracks and heard him continue, “Hai Ming stays.”

After going home, Nie Jun saved Kong Wenyu’s number, stared at the string of digits for a moment, then exited to check the day’s accumulated messages—mostly friends sending him some high-paying job offers.

After replying, he prepared to shower and sleep.

While showering, a restless feeling stirred in him. He hesitated for a moment but ignored it. Once asleep, he began to dream—the setting was July, three years ago.

The evening breeze that day carried the distinct dampness of seawater. Nie Jun was patrolling the deck when he came across Kong Wenyu, who was leaning against the railing, lost in thought.

Because of his youthful appearance, Nie Jun hadn’t thought at the time that this overly young, almost high-school-looking person was actually the Kong family’s only heir, the business partner for this trip.

“Want something to eat?” Nie Jun walked over, placing a few pieces of pastry on the table. “You don’t look so good—seasick?”

Kong Wenyu glanced at the pastries, then turned his gaze away with no appetite at all, his expression weary, as though he’d just woken up. “A little.”

“The wind’s too strong. It’ll feel better if you go inside,” Nie Jun said.

“Just getting some air.” Kong Wenyu studied the visible part of his eyes. “You’re… one of the crew?”

Nie Jun had just nodded when the door from the deck was pushed open, and someone inside called out loudly, “Come in for a drink!”

Kong Wenyu answered and quickly turned to leave.

They met again just an hour later.

Nie Jun was making his rounds when hurried footsteps sounded behind him. Before he could ask anything, someone grabbed tightly onto the hem of his uniform.

It was that familiar scent of cool mint body wash—the young man from the deck, the one who looked so refined and expensive.

The night was pitch black; the yacht’s lights couldn’t reach this spot. In the shadows, Kong Wenyu’s features were strikingly exquisite, his cheeks flushed, and his skin burning to the touch.

Nie Jun realized instantly—he’d been drugged.

It was a common tactic in high-society dealings.

In the distance, silhouettes appeared, searching quickly. Kong Wenyu didn’t turn to look; with those feverishly red eyes, he gasped and whispered to Nie Jun, “Help me…”

Nie Jun hadn’t even processed the thought when his body acted on instinct—he clamped a hand over Kong Wenyu’s mouth to keep him quiet, preventing him from making a sound that would draw others, and pulled him into a dark storage room.

Later, when Kong Wenyu recalled that moment, he was sure he’d smelled a faint scent of soap, with just a hint of tea.

It had come from the dry palm covering his mouth and the thumb pressed gently against the side of his nose.

The footsteps outside passed by twice, then gradually faded away.

Nie Jun cracked the door slightly and glanced out. On the deck, many people had gathered, led by his current employer, the Noss family.

Outside, the moonlight shimmered over the waves, the sea wind was fierce, and the distant coastline merged seamlessly with the dark night. Beside him came a rustling sound, followed by scorching breath against his ear—Kong Wenyu pressed down on his hand.

Nie Jun abruptly let go.

Perhaps that sudden coolness felt especially soothing, because in the next second, Kong Wenyu leaned his entire body against him.

“It’s so hot,” Kong Wenyu murmured, narrowing his eyes as he tugged open his collar. “You…”

Nie Jun’s throat moved. He hesitated for a few seconds—between opening the door to leave or locking it shut.

Kong Wenyu’s upturned face seemed almost like an unspoken plea for a kiss. Nie Jun’s gaze fixed on his lips. “What’s your name?”

Kong Wenyu shifted impatiently, his voice blurred by the drug’s effect. “Kong… Kong Wenyu.”

Nie Jun reached out, wrapped an arm around his waist, and lifted him slightly.

“And you?” Kong Wenyu asked.

Nie Jun locked the door behind them with one hand while holding him close, walking further inside.

Receiving no answer, Kong Wenyu grew a little restless, but under the drug’s overwhelming influence, he was forced to push that thought aside.

His hazy, clouded mind could no longer support him asking again. All he could do was let out a soft, contented sigh when Nie Jun’s hand cupped the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss.

Nie Jun woke up drenched in sweat. The clock by his bed read 3 a.m. The sheets beneath him were a complete mess.

Forced to take a second shower, he winced when he turned over and pressed against his injury. After pausing for a while, he finally managed to fall asleep again.