All fear stems from our own imagination, especially when you feel a threat is everywhere, lurking around you, hanging over your head. This kind of fear grows infinitely. At its mildest, it might lead to something like paranoia; at its worst, it could cause a split in personality, leading to some extreme behavior. Of course, the fear born from imagination isn’t the most terrifying part. Hmm? What’s the most terrifying? Well, that’s when this fantasy becomes reality.

For example, take our President Ruan.

Originally, Ruan Chengjie wasn’t sure if Bian Yiqiu had really taken naked photos of him. After all, he had been knocked unconscious at the time. When he woke up, based on his condition, he figured Bian Yiqiu must have done something to him while he was out cold. Given that Bian Yiqiu had to struggle to undress him despite being drugged and physically limited, the only thing he could think of that could’ve happened was the photos being taken. As long as Bian Yiqiu didn’t reveal this trump card, he wouldn’t be able to rest easy. However, when that trump card was finally laid out before him, he realized that peace would forever be out of his reach.

Ruan Chengjie sat in the chair in the media room, watching the images projected on the wall, each frame slowly and clearly appearing before his eyes. Just as he had once imagined, the man in the photos was disheveled and in a compromising pose, with a whole wall of SM equipment behind him. Only this time, the subject wasn’t Bian Yiqiu—it was himself.

The smile at the corner of his lips gradually curled up. His fingers moved nervously, yet his body remained in a perfectly gentlemanly and elegant seated posture. The glow from the slides reflected onto his face, making the smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes appear especially strange and out of place.

It was the Lantern Festival, the first full moon of the new year. The city was lit up with countless lights, shimmering in brilliance, and the entire city was enveloped in a warm, peaceful atmosphere.

Chu Yi and Lu Xiao had returned to their parents’ home in the university district. The family of four sat together, eating sweet rice dumplings. On the living room TV, the Lantern Festival Gala was in full swing, with songs and laughter reaching their peak.

Fang Rui parked the car in the yard and, as he entered the house, he brushed past his younger brother, Fang Yu. Fang Yu, leaning on a cane, turned his head and gave him a meaningful smile. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but at that moment, his fiancée appeared to greet him. By the time he turned back, Fang Yu had already walked far away.

On the way home, Li Ze purposely took a detour to a flower shop over ten kilometers away, buying a large bouquet of pink tulips that had been air-shipped. They were his mother’s favorite flowers, and tomorrow was her birthday. Of course, if he could bring a girlfriend home, she’d probably be even happier.

Liang Ziyue volunteered to make tangyuan for his daughter, putting in a lot of effort to shape them into little bunnies, mice, cats, and dogs. However, after boiling them, they all turned into blobs, and you couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be. The two-year-old girl burst into tears, and Liang’s father-in-law, staring at the pot of mush, was at a loss for what to do. Meanwhile, his wife was laughing so hard she couldn’t stand up straight.

Fatty lay on the couch with a blank expression, staring at the girl across from him, who was even larger than him by two sizes. He listened to his mother endlessly praising her for being round and plump, with good fortune written all over her—someone who’d make a perfect wife, bring wealth, and prosper a family. Inside, he was nearly breaking down. If he said right now that his ideal type was actually a petite, delicate beauty, would his mom throw a frying pan from the kitchen straight at his face?

Lin Jiayan’s twenty-plus years of unrequited love came to an end that night. Heartbroken but not wanting anyone to see his tears, he could only run to the basement to drink his sorrows away. The bar was dimly lit, with swirling colors, and the deafening music drowned out his pain and frustration. With each drink he poured down, he became more tipsy. In his hazy state, he saw a handsome man walking toward him. He grinned foolishly, muttering, “Mingxuan ge.”

Since Boss Bian was off dating Young Master Ke, Zuo Cheng seemed to lose his job overnight. With one less first-hand gossip source in their group, the four of them could only gather together to play cards. However, Zuo Cheng didn’t understand why, whenever He Xu was on the opposing team, he was always the one losing. No matter how much Ye Zhen and Old Meng tried to turn the tide, it was no use. Maybe playing cards was one of those things that also required talent?

As for the two people who had gone from dating to living together, at this very moment, they were standing on the rooftop terrace of Ke Mingxuan’s home, side by side, enjoying the most perfect night view of the city.

Ke Mingxuan’s rooftop was incredibly luxurious and beautiful. To create this unique sky garden, Young Master Ke had spent far more than the price of a house. The infinity pool with an expansive view, the glass bridge covered in wisteria, and the small wine cellar filled with rare wines from around the world—each part of it showcased the owner’s extraordinary taste and… the unique charm of having too much money to burn.

The terrace they were standing on directly faced He Sheng Media’s building. Bian Yiqiu thought to himself, this man really was always keeping a 360-degree, no-dead-angle watch over his kingdom, to the point where even he, a laid-back boss, felt guilty toward Old Master Jiu and the diligent subordinates at Jiu’an Group.

After watching for a while, he turned around, leaned against the railing, and looked at the city on the other side, where the neon lights flickered, casting shadows and lights. He ran his tongue along his teeth in a circle. Ah, he could really use a smoke.

Just then, Ke Mingxuan asked if he wanted a drink.

Bian Yiqiu replied, “I’ll take some white liquor, I can do with some foreign liquor too, but red wine, no thanks.”

Ke Mingxuan said, “I only have red wine in my wine cellar.”

Bian Yiqiu gave him a pained expression, and Ke Mingxuan turned to look at him. After a moment, Bian Yiqiu finally said, “Fine, I’ll have some.”

Ke Mingxuan turned and went to the wine cellar, quickly returning with a bottle of wine and glasses in hand.

Bian Yiqiu glanced at the bottle in his hands; the brand was unfamiliar—though he didn’t know many red wine brands, he was sure he had never seen this one before.

“You can’t just because I don’t know red wine, use some cheap brand to pass me off,” Bian Yiqiu said.

Ke Mingxuan placed the bottle of wine on the nearby round table, pressed down on the back of the corkscrew, and with practiced, slow movements, neatly sliced through the foil around the bottle neck, never once lifting his eyes.

“What kind of wine do you think I should serve you?” he asked.

Bian Yiqiu grunted, “At the very least, it should be a 1982 Lafite.”

“…” Ke Mingxuan stared at the precious bottle in his hand, one he even hesitated to drink himself, feeling a vein on his temple threatening to pop. “What kind of poison have you been fed to think Lafite is better than this wine in my hand?”

Bian Yiqiu shrugged. “Isn’t that how they always do it on TV?”

Ke Mingxuan strongly felt the need to improve the taste of this wealthy man. “Stop watching that kind of shows in the future.”

“Oh.” Bian Yiqiu, rarely so honest, watched with genuine curiosity as Ke Mingxuan carefully wiped the bottle’s neck. “So what kind of wine is this?”

Ke Mingxuan pointed to the long string of letters on the bottle and read them out one by one: “Romanee-Conti.”

Bian Yiqiu deadpanned, “Speak plainly.”

So, Young Master Ke gave up on the fancy terms and, clearly and properly, said, “Romanée-Conti.”

Bian Yiqiu pretended to think for a moment, then said, “Never heard of it.”

Ke Mingxuan almost sighed. “Boss Bian, besides Lafite, what else do you know?”

“Bordeaux.”

“…That’s the region, not the wine. Lafite comes from Bordeaux.” Ke Mingxuan cleaned the bottle’s neck, then aligned the corkscrew with the center of the cork, turning it slowly and carefully, controlling the pressure as he twisted it deeper into the cork. “I admit that the 1982 Lafite has its merits. If you like it, there are two bottles left in the wine cellar, you can drink as much as you want. But I think a big part of its fame comes from being hyped up. In fact, in France, there are many regions with better red wines than Bordeaux, like Burgundy. And Romanée-Conti is the best vineyard in Burgundy—well, it’s also the best in France. While Lafite’s most famous year is 1982, Romanée-Conti’s red wines are classics in almost every vintage.”

Bian Yiqiu remained relaxed, leaning against the railing, appearing to listen intently, though not a single word managed to stick in his mind.

For him, no matter how good the red wine, it all tasted the same—tart and a bit astringent, neither as strong as white liquor nor as smooth as foreign liquor. He couldn’t appreciate the joy of wine tasting. He thought that the way Ke Mingxuan opened the bottle and the sound of his voice were far more captivating than the bottle of red wine in his hand.

The corkscrew was nearly all the way into the cork, and Ke Mingxuan hooked the first joint of the corkscrew onto the bottle neck, gripping it tightly with his left hand. With his right hand, he pulled the handle straight up. When the cork had come halfway out, he hooked the second joint onto the bottle neck and continued pulling, but just before the cork was fully out, he stopped. He gently held the cork and slowly twisted it out bit by bit. His movements were so smooth and tender that Bian Yiqiu couldn’t help but be in awe, almost thinking that Ke Mingxuan wasn’t handling a bottle of wine, but rather a beloved lover.

Ke Mingxuan seemed almost intoxicated by the rich aroma of the wine wafting from the bottle. He turned around and placed the extracted cork in front of Bian Yiqiu. Bian Yiqiu glanced at it, then at him, with a look that clearly asked: What’s this about?

Ke Mingxuan said, “Smell it.”

Bian Yiqiu obediently sniffed the cork. Ke Mingxuan asked, “What does it smell like?”

“A bit… sour?” Bian Yiqiu said, then noticed Ke Mingxuan’s expression wasn’t too pleased, so he quickly added, “Uh, and also… fragrant?”

Ke Mingxuan’s lips twitched. He took the cork back, set it aside, and poured the wine into a decanter.

Although Bian Yiqiu had seen this step many times when drinking wine with others, he never quite understood why red wine needed to be poured out and left to “breathe” before drinking. Since there were no outsiders around, he decided to just ask outright.

“This is called decanting,” Ke Mingxuan continued to educate him. “The tannins in red wine have a very low level of oxidation before the bottle is opened. The aromas are trapped inside and can’t escape. If you don’t decant it, the wine will taste sour and astringent, and the fruity flavors won’t be as strong…”

Bian Yiqiu interrupted him, “What’s tannin?”

Ke Mingxuan patiently explained, “Tannins are acidic phenolic compounds. In red wine, tannins mainly come from the fermentation of grape seeds and skins, and even after fermentation, some are extracted from the oak barrels where the wine is aged. Decanting allows the wine to fully interact with the air, oxidizing and removing the sourness, bitterness, and thinness. It also filters out the sediments from older wines, making the taste smoother and more refined.”

Bian Yiqiu nodded attentively, “How long does this wine need to breathe?”

“Two or three hours,” Ke Mingxuan replied.

“…Then I’ll go take a nap,” Bian Yiqiu said, lifting his foot to walk away.

Ke Mingxuan immediately grabbed him back and couldn’t help but laugh, “I was just kidding. Actually, it’s not impossible to drink it now, but the decanted wine will give you a different, more wonderful taste. So be patient and stay with me for a bit?”

Bian Yiqiu asked, “So, what are we going to do for these two or three hours?”

Ke Mingxuan rubbed his chin, thinking seriously, then made a suggestion, “How about we… take care of some business?”

Bian Yiqiu chuckled, “Is there anything in your head besides these dirty thoughts?”

Ke Mingxuan replied, “Then how about I educate you some more on wine?”

Bian Yiqiu wasn’t interested, “How about I teach you something else instead?”

Ke Mingxuan raised an eyebrow, and Bian Yiqiu smiled slyly, continuing, “Do you know how to strike someone to knock them out quickly, without killing them?”