Yong Jin, the famous Major General. Zhou Jun knew him, but Yong Jin did not know him. There were countless rumors about this general. He was known for his romantic affairs with many beautiful companions. He was also ruthless, with a strong grip, and had been involved in some shocking events.

When his housemaid did laundry, it was Shirley who spoke with Zhou Jun. He had no idea that he had unintentionally gotten involved with a dangerous rose. Behind the rose was a fierce tiger, and Shirley wanted to make Yong Jin a cuckold, choosing him as the scapegoat.

Shirley, on the other end of the phone, apologized to him. She was urging him to be careful and suggesting he go abroad to avoid any trouble.

Zhou Jun’s father was a fallen German noble, and his mother came from a distinguished family. Although they appeared to have a good background and seemed prosperous, his father was a notorious womanizer who had left home for many years. When Zhou Jun returned from studying abroad, his elder brother, who felt hopeless on his younger brother’s extravagant lifestyle, managed the family affairs. He only allocated a monthly allowance for Zhou Jun to continue his lavish spending and rarely showed his face.

Getting involved with Major General Yong was clearly a disaster, and his older brother might not be willing to protect him. Zhou Jun could only hope that Shirley didn’t hold that much importance in General Yong’s heart and that, considering the Zhou family’s previous contributions to Governor Yong, he might let him off the hook.

Because of this anxiety and fear, in the next few days, Zhou Jun canceled all his dates with his female friends.

Usually, only his housemaid came to clean the house. Zhou Jun was naturally indulgent, enjoying fun and immersing himself in the fluffy skirts and the thick scent of long hair, wrapped in sweet-smelling lipstick. Now, with no one else around, he could only hear his housemaid calling him ‘master,’ which caused him great distress.

He felt like Apollo deprived of sunlight; no longer bright, handsome, or happy. Deep down, Zhou Jun was very narcissistic. During his days stuck at home, he often glanced at the mirror, and the only thing he found pleasing to look at was his own face.

So everything unfolded naturally, and all the odds and ends in his large cabinet were taken out as if they were new and interesting. It seemed that the warmth and scent of those charming ladies still lingered on them.

Initially, he just wanted to have a little fun, so in the privacy of his room, he pulled the curtains closed, turned on the small light beside the bed and applied the lipstick to his lips. When he was young, he had held beautiful servants and hidden in the secluded corners of the house, kissing them until his mouth was smeared with light pink balm. He didn’t even realize he was sitting at the table with red-stained lips, which led to his mother punishing him by making him kneel in the ancestral hall. Now, no one could control him anymore, and since he couldn’t indulge in forbidden pleasures, he simply applied a stroke of lipstick on his own lips for a bit of comfort.

Zhou Jun had an exceptionally noble appearance, with delicate eyebrows and long eyes inherited from his mother. However, his eye color was unusual—mostly blue with hints of gray, giving it an impure shade. The feminine tones on his face didn’t seem too out of place. As he touched his face, Zhou Jun felt that he was quite charming.

He tried lipstick and painted his nails. His pale feet, which had long been out of the sun, had delicate pink polish on his slender toes. The stockings and lace buttons made the base of his legs slightly itch.

Zhou Jun’s heart raced a bit. He wore a light white nightgown and held up the hem while turning to look at himself in the mirror. The yellowish-red light highlighted his body shape, and the stockings covered his knees, making his straight legs look a bit blurry.

After having his fun, Zhou Jun finally wiped away the lipstick from his lips with a handkerchief. However, it didn’t come off completely, leaving a red stain at the corners of his mouth. He set the handkerchief aside and planned to take off the lacy ring of the stockings that was making him itch.

He sat in a brown leather chair with his back to the bedroom door, his feet finding a comfortable position as he prepared to remove them.

At that moment, the door burst open. Light streaming in from the wide-open door as two military men walked in. Zhou Jun raised his hand to shield his eyes and caught a glimpse of a tall figure striding in, his footsteps confident and bold.

The newcomer moved with a casual charm, holding a long whip in his gloved hand, and casually tipped his hat with his finger, surveying the room and Zhou Jun. Once Zhou Jun adjusted to the light, he clearly saw the person’s face—those same unsettling eyes belonged to his rival, Major General Yong.

Zhou Jun discreetly tucked his legs away and pulled down his robe, slightly curling up as if he wanted to hide. He turned around, facing away from the newcomer, and said, ‘Isn’t it against the rules for military men to intrude into my home like this?’

He casually fumbled through the scattered items on the table, knocking over a metal rose lipstick container. Reaching past a wrinkled handkerchief, he carelessly extended his fingers until they brushed against a metal box. Seeking some comfort, he hurriedly pulled the box closer, causing his sleeve to knock over a bottle of nail polish. The uncovered bottle wobbled and tipped over, spilling a light pink that mixed with a faint red.

The liquid oozed along the surface of the table, forming sticky threads that rolled leisurely to the edge. When it fell to the ground, it splattered a few drops, landing on the trembling ankle-length stockings and creating a faint splash.

He pulled out a cigarette from the iron box, his fingers trembling slightly as he brought it to his lips. Zhou Jun had been looking down until the tall figure of the man strolled up to him. Someone turned on the light behind him, instantly brightening the room. Zhou Jun instinctively closed his eyes and then slowly opened them again. He saw the tall figure clearly this time and, with the cigarette in his mouth, forced a stiff, ingratiating smile.

The man made a gesture, and the two behind him stepped back and closed the door. Yong Jin crossed his arms and looked around the room, then naturally sat down on the only bed in the room. The bed had a carved redwood headboard and was layered with many cushions, sinking down comfortably when he sat, feeling quite soft. On the bedside table was a heart-shaped jade snuff bottle, inlaid with a silver rim.

Zhou Jun was quite the indulgent type, and the materials inside were expensive. Yong Jin picked up the snuff bottle and took a shallow puff. In a tone that sounded casual, the man’s voice was low and deep: “The man in Shirley’s room that night was you, right?”

Zhou Jun lit the cigarette , trying to appear calm as he took a few puffs, contemplating how to extricate himself from the situation. Soon, he felt a gaze lingering around his legs. Zhou Jun held the cigarette and shifted his posture. The parted edges of his robe slid down, revealing the stockings underneath.

The half-concealed things were now revealed openly, and Zhou Jun was not a person who cared too much about face; he was extremely adaptable. This was also the reason why he had repeatedly gotten into trouble yet remained unscathed.

He forced a smile on his face, recalling the actors he had seen earlier, and a hint of flattery appeared: “Although it’s true, Major Yong, you need not worry. I… I’m not interested in women, really.”

Yong Jin sat at the head of the bed, his gaze resting on Zhou Jun’s stockings before slowly moving up to his face. His skin was extremely pale, the lipstick had not been completely wiped off. It was a man’s frame, but very well-proportioned. The sleep robe was worn very messily, revealing a small corner of the lace from the garter stockings at his thigh and waist. There was a hint of lewdness in the man, yet he himself was unaware of it.

Zhou Jun felt somewhat uneasy under such a gaze. He extinguished the cigarette and, as if trying to save himself, he pulled his legs back and tightened the robe. The fabric tightened against his legs, gathering at the bend of his knee, creating a bunch of crowded wrinkles. Then Yong Jin took out his gun, playfully aiming the barrel at him.

Instinctively, Zhou Jun supported himself on the chair and stood up to run. At that moment, primal fear took over and without a second thought, he dashed to the door. His hand touched the cold doorknob but in the next instant, a gloved hand behind him swiftly covered the lock, clicking it shut. Zhou Jun only managed to touch the glove, feeling its coarse fabric.

Zhou Jun pulled his hand back but was pressed down from behind. He leaned against the door, somewhat helplessly using his hands to support himself. He breathed heavily, his forehead damp with sweat, the edges of his face glistening with moisture.

The gun pressed against his face, it’s cold barrel slowly sliding over every trembling inch of his skin. The sense of danger sent a sharp ache through Zhou Jun’s head, intensifying the tension. That same gun slipped beneath his white robe, inching down toward his thighs—a slow, deliberate motion, like lifting a bride’s red veil, each layer revealing a touch more of the mystery beneath.

The complete black lace garter belt wrapped around his waist, was now fully revealed.