It was only ten at night. The city’s neon lights flickered in a dazzling array of colors. Among the bright chaos, a motorcycle tore through the streets like a wild beast released from its cage.
Its aggressive, untamed design made most cars instinctively give it space, while only a few luxury drivers glanced with admiration.
But before anyone could get a better look, the beast deftly weaved through the traffic and vanished into the urban jungle.
From one of the abandoned luxury cars, a voice drifted:
“Damn, so wild and thrilling. If that were me, I’d be unstoppable.”
Racing forward, Fang Qing arrived at his destination, jumped off the bike, and tossed the keys into the hand of a waiting attendant with a crisp clink.
He casually removed his black motorcycle helmet, unbuttoned the top of his jacket to reveal a lean, powerful torso, and ran his gloved fingers through his hair.
The simple movements radiated raw masculine energy, almost leaving the attendant weak at the knees.
“Watch closely—this is my new treasure.”
Fang Qing let out a low chuckle and strode straight into the room.
The attendant’s legs went weak. For a long moment, he couldn’t help glancing at the security guard standing by the door.
“You… you didn’t ask him for a membership card?”
The tall guard looked at him with a mixture of disdain and amusement, his gaze lingering on the attendant’s trembling legs.
“At this point, do you really think he’s someone who wouldn’t be allowed in?”
The attendant’s face flushed. He held the keys and helmet in his arms, but even he couldn’t deny the truth.
A little regret lingered, though. Someone of that status—even if he only wanted a one-night fling—it would probably remain just a fantasy.
Jing Yuan began to feel anxious.
Mr. Zhuo was truly difficult to handle!
He had been trying to be polite and charming, even drinking along to keep up appearances, yet Zhuo stubbornly revealed nothing.
That would be fine if it ended there, but Jing Yuan couldn’t help checking his watch—fifteen minutes had already passed.
No, he had to go see for himself!
It would be too much of a waste to miss such an opportunity.
Since Zhuo had no intention of letting go, Jing Yuan decided to pretend he was just stepping out for the restroom.
With a smile on his face, he stood.
“Mr. Zhuo, please excuse me for a moment.”
The manager glanced at him. Jing Yuan signaled it was just a brief exit.
The manager frowned slightly but recognized it as a normal human need and didn’t stop him.
As Jing Yuan stepped away, Zhuo, who had barely spoken until now, suddenly spoke up.
“Where are you rushing off to?”
Jing Yuan froze.
Leaving now clearly meant going to the restroom—didn’t Zhuo realize that?
Even though he mentally bristled at the question, he still turned and smiled politely.
“Just stepping out for five minutes. I might have had a bit too much to drink earlier. I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Zhuo.”
“Oh?”
Unexpectedly, Zhuo, who had seemed utterly uninterested before, now appeared intrigued by his words.
Before Jing Yuan could process it, darkness suddenly fell in front of him.
Zhuo had stood up and walked over, a faint look of anticipation on his delicate, almost androgynous face.
“Perfect timing—I’ve also had a bit too much. Let’s go together.”
Jing Yuan froze.
Zhuo was coming along?
But when did he drink that much?
He’d always been sober, accompanying the manager while Jing Yuan drank… how could this happen?
Still stunned, Jing Yuan felt Zhuo’s hand drape over his shoulders. The force was insistent, leaving no room for refusal, and carried him out the door.
!
Jin Yi, seeing the door open, quickly pulled out his phone, pretending to make a discreet call.
In reality, he accidentally dialed Fang Qing’s number, and Fang Qing picked up immediately.
“What’s going on?”
?
Wait… that actually became a phone call?
Jin Yi froze for a second, then quickly relayed the news.
“Hey, I don’t know why, but the person you asked me to watch—the one you mentioned—is walking out of the VIP room with another guy.”
Jing Yuan was with someone else?
Fang Qing, adjusting his jacket on the move, ran through the situation in his head.
Nothing.
This scene wasn’t in the original storyline at all.
He quickly realized something else—this seemingly small ripple caused by his “little butterfly” had completely changed the original plot.
Jing Yuan’s path was now completely off the expected track, and Fang Qing had no way of knowing who he was with.
Given that, the most important thing now was…
Fang Qing’s figure soon appeared before Jin Yi.
“Where did Jing Yuan go? And Nie Luo?”
“…Damn, today you’re kind of hot…”
Jin Yi’s eyes went wide.
Motorcycle jacket, black choker, silver necklace, knuckle rings, and polished Dr. Martens.
This outfit alone—he didn’t know if Old Nie would like it, but Jin Yi was almost rendered powerless on the spot.
“Answer me.”
Fang Qing wasn’t polite—he gave Jin Yi a sharp smack on the head.
“Where’s Nie Luo?”
“Oof… your strength is insane…”
Jin Yi gasped, the flirtatious thoughts he’d just had instantly crushed by that single strike.
Better leave it alone, leave it alone—this was far beyond what the spoiled Jin Er could handle.
Better leave it to Nie Luo to enjoy.
“I saw that guy walking with another male toward that direction. I didn’t follow. But Old Nie is still in the restroom—maybe he’s got an upset stomach, hasn’t come out yet.”
As Jin Yi finished, Fang Qing vanished from sight.
He froze.
What? Is he that single-minded about Nie Luo? Jin Yi, after all, is a rich second-generation kid with his own entertainment company now… and still not catching Fang Qing’s attention?
Then he remembered Fang Qing’s terrifying knuckle rings.
Sigh—forget it, forget it. Too dangerous to mess with!
Better leave, better leave!
Nie Luo’s condition wasn’t great either.
He’d been trying for nearly twenty minutes, but his body heat just wouldn’t dissipate—there wasn’t even a hint of relief.
Normally calm, his face now bore a rare flush, lips pressed tightly to suppress any sound.
Why was this happening?
Why couldn’t he resolve it?
Last time…
Flashes of fragmented memories flickered through Nie Luo’s mind. His long, clear finger joints paused, then started moving in circular motions.
The person seemed to respond like this…
No—this wasn’t right!
Nie Luo’s burning body suddenly felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him. He gasped silently, rapid and shallow, his eyes clouded with rare doubt and suspicion.
How could he even… remember this?
Knock knock.
A soft, light knock sounded on the door.
A cold sweat instantly broke out across Nie Luo’s back. Almost instinctively, he raised a hand to cover himself—then remembered—the door was locked.
Still, who would knock on someone else’s bathroom door?
Before he could think further, a quiet voice floated from outside, sounding to Nie Luo like a clap of thunder.
“Bro… you in there?”
Fang Qing?
How could he possibly be here?
In an instant, suspicion flared across Nie Luo’s eyes.
But in the next moment, his sweat-slicked mind struggled to regain a shred of clarity.
It couldn’t be Fang Qing—there was no one else around when he… when it happened. Fang Qing hadn’t touched him; it was impossible.
Yet, why would Fang Qing come here? What could he want?
Nie Luo was still thinking, but he heard the faint shuffle of footsteps outside the door, and his chest sank slightly.
“Bro, you can either open the door or I’ll climb in—your choice.”
What?
Nie Luo frowned, his hazy mind too slow to make a decision—and then, a figure actually flipped over the top of the door.
Of course.
Fang Qing immediately noticed the lingering heat radiating from Nie Luo. A flash of scarlet crossed his eyes before being quickly hidden.
“You…”
Nie Luo barely opened his mouth before another palm pressed against his lips, warm and commanding.
“Shh, Bro, someone’s outside.”
Fang Qing leaned close, his cold motorcycle jacket unable to conceal the pale white of his exposed collarbones.
Above that, a sleek black choker framed his smooth, porcelain-like skin.
His warm breath brushed against Nie Luo’s ear, making the already muddled mind even more fogged.
Still, he forced himself to retain the last bit of clarity—someone’s outside?
“Someone? Who… mmph!”
A muffled sound escaped Nie Luo as the searing heat coursed through him, his pupils dilating slightly. An unfamiliar yet strangely familiar sensation swept through his body. He gasped sharply, but the palm pressed firmly against his lips silenced him again.
“Bro, don’t make a sound.”
Fang Qing’s gaze swept over him from above, taking in the scene like a predator enjoying a feast.
Fortunately, he had arrived in time.
Otherwise, if someone like Jing Yuan had seen this…
“Hmph!”
Nie Luo let out a painful, muffled groan.
Fang Qing’s eyes softened, the previous cold malice transforming into something almost burning.
“Sorry, I used too much force. Bro, bear with me—I’ll be gentle.”
This wasn’t about being gentle—it was…
Nie Luo’s mind still fuzzy, his ears pricked at a familiar voice.
“Mr. Zhuo, what are you doing?”
Both Nie Luo and Fang Qing’s eyes flickered with disgust at the sound.
Fang Qing leaned even closer, his voice a low, devilish whisper in Nie Luo’s ear.
“Let me guess—this time, you ended up like this because you ran into him again, right?”
A flicker of surprise crossed Nie Luo’s eyes. Even as his mind burned and clarity threatened to vanish, he recognized something in Fang Qing’s words.
Jing Yuan?
It really was him?
“Bro, at a time like this, you can’t afford to be distracted.”
Fang Qing’s lips pressed against Nie Luo’s ear, and suddenly his fingers retracted.
A cold, metallic touch ran across his body.
Nie Luo’s pupils nearly lost focus, his eyes narrowing like a wild beast cornered before death.
A sharp, stabbing pain!
The palm released. Instinctively, Nie Luo bit down hard on Fang Qing’s knuckle.
Fang Qing flinched, the glinting knuckle ring tilting slightly under the pressure.
Both of them stared at each other with feral intensity, yet no sound escaped—the only thing spreading through the air was the metallic scent of blood.
Outside the partition, Jing Yuan’s heart lurched in terror.
His back almost pressed against the wall, eyes wide with pure fear.
Mr. Zhuo’s face, delicate and unyielding, flickered with cold, unwavering intensity.
“You actually understood.”
Jing Yuan had figured it out—his secret little kink.
And? So what?
He was just a minor celebrity. If he wanted to see someone cry—or something else—it was all under his control, wasn’t it?
Mr. Zhuo thought, a soft yet sticky smile curling on his lips.
“Be a good boy and come closer. Let me enjoy it properly—don’t waste this beautiful night.”