The spacious and well-lit conference room was filled with a serious atmosphere, with comparative data being displayed on the central screen. After the professional team finished their report, the room fell into a heavy silence. At the center, Quan Lushen sat, his eyes emotionless. The overhead light outlined his figure in cold, sharp lines.

The elite in charge of the report began to sweat nervously, and the surrounding colleagues also lowered their heads, trying to minimize their presence in the tense environment.

“Continue,” Quan Lushen finally said.

Only then did the oppressive atmosphere ease slightly. He locked his phone screen, ignoring Yu Zao’s earlier message, and refocused on the ongoing meeting.

Yu Zao had been staring at his phone before bed but wasn’t surprised when Quan Lushen didn’t reply. Quan Lushen was always busy. When he had added Yu Zao on WeChat, it was merely a precaution, just to have a personal contact handy. The detailed contractual matters were always handled by his assistant in communication with Yu Zao. Quan Lushen didn’t care much about the process—only the results mattered to him.

So it was entirely normal that Quan Lushen hadn’t responded.

Still, Yu Zao felt a bit upset. It was rude not to reply. Then again, maybe he hadn’t seen the message; Yu Zao had retracted it quickly, and someone as busy as Quan Lushen wasn’t glued to his phone.

Yu Zao’s mind worked fast—there was logic behind what he did. He had sent the photo and then retracted it, adding a message that, whether or not Quan Lushen saw the photo, should have prompted a response.

He decided to wait until the next day to see what would happen.

But the next day, there was still no reply from Quan Lushen.

Yu Zao woke up naturally, still half-asleep, and the first thing he did was grab his phone. Quan Lushen’s message thread remained empty, with no response.

This made him even more upset.

His message list was full; many people had texted him—Jiang Cai, Yuan Jin, Chi Xingge—but he felt too irritated to respond to anyone. The fact that Quan Lushen hadn’t replied made him view all of them with frustration.

Just then, Chi Xingge sent a new message: [Awake yet?]

Yu Zao couldn’t be bothered to reply. So exhausting.

Light from the curtains, only partially drawn, cast a dim glow across his face. He turned over in bed, his face, still soft and pink from sleep, pressed against the pillow.

His pale, clear skin and slightly sleepy expression made him resemble a half-awake Persian cat. His thick lashes fluttered, and the curve of his nose down to the tip of his chin was smooth and luminous, giving him a lazy, seductive charm.

Ignoring everyone’s messages, Yu Zao decided to scroll through short videos for some laughs.

Chi Xingge: [Transferred 10,000.00]

Yu Zao immediately switched to WeChat and swiftly hit the “accept” button: [I’m awake!]

Yu Zao: [Who is the lucky one, waking up to red envelope? Oh, it’s me!]

Chi Xingge: [Stop pretending.]

Chi Xingge wasn’t fooled. He had already seen Yu Zao liking other people’s posts on Moments. [Do you like that car?]

Hmm? What car? Yu Zao wasn’t sure but replied anyway: [I do! Are you going to buy it for me?]

Chi Xingge was about to type [Sure!] but caught himself, quickly deleting it and replacing it with: [In your dreams.]

Chi Xingge was starting to feel uneasy.

How long had it been? He had already transferred nearly ten million yuan to Yu Zao. It was absurd. Even his dad had asked if he was taking drugs.

The most ridiculous part was that after seeing Yu Zao liking someone else’s post while ignoring his messages, he felt a surge of irritation. What was so special about that car?

Any car in his garage was more expensive than that.

And when Yu Zao jokingly asked, “Are you buying it for me?” his first instinct was to say yes—because if Yu Zao liked it, he’d buy it.

Thankfully, he came to his senses and didn’t actually send the message.

If he bought Yu Zao a car this quickly, Yu Zao would probably ignore him even more. At least for now, he needed to hold off. He could wait until Yu Zao was a bit more responsive before buying him the car.

Yu Zao hadn’t really expected Chi Xingge to buy him the car. Sure, Chi Xingge was quick to send money, but he wasn’t that foolish.

Yu Zao: [I sent a picture to Quan Lushen, but he didn’t respond. Angry.jpg]

Chi Xingge’s call came through almost immediately. Yu Zao barely had time to answer before hearing Chi Xingge’s gritted voice: “You sent a photo to Quan Lushen? Didn’t I tell you not to? Which one did you send? Was it the one I told you about?”

Already in a bad mood from waking up, Yu Zao raised his voice to match Chi Xingge’s: “Stop yelling!”

Chi Xingge’s temper was about to burst, but he muted the phone, smashed an expensive vase, and imagined it was Quan Lushen’s remains. Feeling slightly better, he unmuted and softened his tone: “I wasn’t yelling. I was just too close to the phone, so it sounded loud. Is it better now?”

Yu Zao huffed in response, “It’s quieter.”

“That’s good. I wasn’t angry, so don’t be upset.” Chi Xingge’s voice was calm. “Are you hungry? Should I order takeout or come pick you up for a meal?”

Yu Zao rolled over in bed, lazily saying, “No, I’m going back to sleep.”

“It’s already noon! Still asleep?” Chi Xingge said, “Okay, sleep a bit more. You mentioned earlier that you sent a photo to Quan Lushen, and he didn’t reply?”

Yu Zao fumed, “Yeah, no reply.”

Chi Xingge asked, “He didn’t say anything else? No other reaction?”

Yu Zao sighed, “Nope, maybe I didn’t look good in the photo.”

“Impossible! Your photos look amazing. There’s no way any man could look at them and not feel something,” Chi Xingge said confidently.

Yu Zao pondered, “Then what went wrong?”

Chi Xingge joked, “Maybe… he’s not into men?”

But that didn’t quite make sense either. Men are visual creatures, and Yu Zao’s legs in the photos could captivate anyone, regardless of gender.

Yu Zao, quick to scheme when it came to mischief, asked, “So you’re saying I should wear a little dress or something? Would Quan Lushen like that?”

Chi Xingge felt a bit flustered. He wasn’t sure if Quan Lushen would like it, but he definitely would. However, not wanting Yu Zao to act impulsively, he quickly corrected himself, “No, he definitely wouldn’t. Don’t think like that.”

Yu Zao felt a bit wronged, and Chi Xingge hurried to console him, “You’re trying too hard, and it’s too obvious. Someone as sharp as Quan Lushen would see right through it and might even be put off.”

That made sense.

Sending those kinds of photos all the time wasn’t exactly subtle. Yu Zao wondered if he should show Quan Lushen the photos in person, but it was hard to manufacture such an opportunity since someone like Quan Lushen was usually out of reach.

Still, Yu Zao was annoyed. Chi Xingge’s bluntness had hurt his confidence. Annoyed and still groggy from waking up, Yu Zao hung up the phone, momentarily forgetting that Chi Xingge was supposed to be the villain. His small temper flared up again.

Yu Zao stopped responding to messages.

Chi Xingge, already practiced at handling this, transferred some money to Yu Zao. Yu Zao’s mood improved when he saw the notifications of money coming in. He quickly accepted the transfer and sent a voice message with a hint of playfulness, “Why do you keep sending me money? It’s exhausting to keep hitting ‘accept’!”

Most people would hear this and think Yu Zao was being ungrateful, and Chi Xingge did feel a bit of frustration. After all, he had even gone through the trouble of lifting his WeChat transfer limit just to send money to Yu Zao, and now Yu Zao was complaining.

He was paying and getting scolded for it—there was no one else who would put up with this!

But hearing Yu Zao’s sleepy, soft voice, like he was gently whining, Chi Xingge couldn’t even bring himself to get angry. Instead, he reflected on himself.

Whatever, he thought. I’ve already been this foolish before, what’s one more time?

Chi Xingge replied: [My bad, I shouldn’t use WeChat to send money. I’ll transfer it to your bank next time, okay?]

If Chi Xingge had ever shown the slightest bit of frustration, Yu Zao, who always backed down when faced with strength, wouldn’t have dared to push so far. But since Chi Xingge kept yielding, Yu Zao became bolder, completely forgetting his own limitations.

Chi Xingge then called again, this time through video. Still groggy and cranky, Yu Zao answered but didn’t feel like engaging, simply lying in bed with a pouty expression. His half-lidded eyes and lazy demeanor showed he was still upset.

Chi Xingge spent quite some time coaxing Yu Zao until he was finally back in a good mood.

Yu Zao, always quick to think, realized something. Chi Xingge’s taste seemed a bit off. Going forward, he shouldn’t rely solely on Chi Xingge to judge his photos. He should ask a few others and compare opinions to get a better idea.

But who else could he send them to…?

…

In a group chat:

[Has Yu Zao replied to any of you?]

[Nope, nothing from him.]

[Me neither.]

[Isn’t it obvious? You’ve been kicked out of the pond. Please, stop being a simp.]

[Yeah, it’s degrading. Why be a simp when you can be a man? I really don’t get the mindset of simps. It’s just pathetic.]

[Agreed, 100%. Three things you should never do in a relationship: don’t be a simp, don’t be a simp, and don’t be a simp. It’s degrading for yourself and a nuisance to others. As a man, never stoop to being a simp. I hate simps the most. I may have money, but I’m not stupid. Yu Zao is obviously just a vain, money-hungry—&$%…]

[What’s with the random string of characters?]

[Forget that, Yu Zao just liked one of my posts. I’m asking him to dinner.]

[??????]

[What the heck? He liked your post? You, a broke loser? Just because you posted a photo of your new car?]

[I’m posting too.]

[Are you guys out of your minds? Yu Zao’s clearly in it for the money, and you’re still fawning over him?] Despite his words, this guy snapped a photo of his most expensive car in the garage and posted it on his feed, even sending it directly to Yu Zao, just in case he missed it.

Jiang Cai closed the group chat, feeling agitated.

He couldn’t shake the memory of the strange noises he had heard during his call with Yu Zao last night.

Jiang Cai didn’t want to make malicious assumptions, but he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering in that direction, coming up with various scenarios that only made him more anxious.

Through the group chat, he also realized Yu Zao wasn’t just chatting with him. Yu Zao had claimed he was “slow at typing” to explain the delays in their conversation, but in hindsight, he had probably been messaging other men.

Yu Zao was likely casting a wide net, just as the rumors said—vain, money-driven, and a manipulative heartbreaker.

Jiang Cai had met all kinds of people and despised those with ulterior motives the most. He knew he should cut his losses, but every time he thought of Yu Zao’s innocent, beautiful face, he found himself hesitating.

Maybe it was all just in his head?

If he asked directly, the truth would come out.

Jiang Cai, as someone who has always been a favored child of destiny, rarely takes the initiative to reach out to others, let alone when Yu Zao was the one who hung up on him. After a sleepless night, he couldn’t hold back any longer and impatiently sent Yu Zao a message.

Jiang Cai: [Was there someone with you last night? Who was it?]

Jiang Cai: [What were you doing together?]

The group chat was still buzzing, mostly complaining about how Yu Zao wasn’t replying on WeChat, despite them having sent even more expensive cars.

Jiang Cai stared at his chat window with Yu Zao, looking at the voice call that was cut off in less than a minute and his own message full of jealousy and frustration, feeling how ridiculous he seemed.

Two minutes hadn’t even passed yet, and he still had time to retract the message. Just as he was about to salvage his dignity, Yu Zao replied.

Jiang Cai immediately straightened up.

His eyes were glued to the screen, unwilling to look away for even a second.

Yu Zao had sent him a photo.

In the picture, Yu Zao was kneeling on the bed, the long hem of his nightshirt covering his shorts, making it seem like he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His legs were slender and pale, one foot clad in a loose, clean white cotton sock that bunched around his thin ankle, while the other foot was bare. The sunlight bathed his petite, pale foot, revealing the soft, pinkish hue beneath his fair skin.

Jiang Cai was stunned.

The photo was quickly retracted. He grabbed a bottle of ice-cold water from the fridge and took a large gulp before typing: [What do you mean by this?]

Yu Zao: [Oops, sorry, sent it to the wrong person.]

Jiang Cai: [?]

Jiang Cai: [Who was it meant for? Who asked you to send this?]

Yu Zao, sending such photos to another man? Jiang Cai wasn’t sure if he felt more jealousy or heartbreak. On one hand, he angrily thought, “What gives that man the right?” On the other hand, he worried that maybe Yu Zao was too naive, obediently doing whatever someone asked him to do.

Yu Zao: [It was the boss who asked for it~ I just bought these socks online, and they give cashback for reviews with pictures.]

Jiang Cai, being from a wealthy family, had no concept of what “cashback for good reviews” meant. He either shopped at exclusive boutiques or had items delivered directly from brands. Even when he shopped online, it was always through the official website.

But he keenly caught onto a flaw in the story: [Why would you need to send it privately via WeChat? To the boss, no less?]

The lie was too clumsy.

While Jiang Cai lacked experience in relationships, that didn’t mean he was a fool to be easily deceived. Clearly, Yu Zao was a little liar… A video call suddenly popped up.

Jiang Cai quickly hit accept.

Yu Zao, still in the same position as in the photo, knelt on the soft, furry carpet, his white skin blending with the pure white carpet, making it hard to tell which was whiter.

He struggled to hold the phone high enough while using his other hand to reach for the opened delivery box. Next to his flushed knees was a bright red card.

Yu Zao pointed the camera at his foot clad in a white sock, giving a quick glimpse, then moved it back up to show a delicate, pale hand holding the cashback card. He looked up at the camera and said, “If you leave a review with a buyer’s photo, the seller gives you five yuan cashback.”

His voice had a playful lilt, answering as if on cue, paired with his soft loungewear, giving him an indescribable air of innocence.

So, it really was a cashback for a good review? Yu Zao hadn’t lied?

Had he misunderstood Yu Zao?

Jiang Cai stared at his phone, his cheeks and body temperature rising uncontrollably, his heart racing out of sync as if malfunctioning, rendering him speechless.

Even after the video call ended, his mind was still filled with the image of Yu Zao, sitting there obediently, showing off his socks.

So obedient. So pure.

What a good, thrifty little boy.