Zhou Jun tightened his grip, his gaze gradually becoming dazed. He pulled Yong Jin away from the window and murmured softly, almost as if talking to himself, “Why me?” Yong Jin lips moving silently but he didn’t respond. Zhou Jun cupped Yong Jin’s face, his gaze lingering on him with a tender intensity. He sighed softly, “Is it because my brother is Zhou Yan?”

Yong Jin lips once again moved but Zhou Jun pressed his thumb against them, feeling the moisture beneath his touch. His confusion began to fade, replaced by a calm resolve. His voice was light, and what he said next was a bit reckless, almost fanciful: “Can we just sleep together this once? We’ll say goodbye by dawn.”

He envisioned a romantic and naive scenario, hoping that his relationship with Yong Jin would only be a one-night stand. However, upon hearing his words, Yong Jin’s eyes gradually narrowed, and an expression of anger began to surface on his face. Zhou Jun felt the pressure of Yong Jin’s hand resting on his waist, so tight that it was painful. He lowered his eyelids and cried out in discomfort, trying to push the hand away.

But before he knew it, he was lifted off the ground, his waist and abdomen pressing against Yong Jin’s solid shoulder. Zhou Jun was stunned, overwhelmed by a strong sense of embarrassment. He was a man, yet here he was, so helplessly carried away; it was truly humiliating. His face flushed red, and when he was tossed onto the bed, his mind was in chaos.

Yong Jin stood at the foot of the bed, leisurely unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his muscular upper body. Only then did Zhou Jun notice the numerous scars on Yong Jin’s body, some of which were deep, jagged wounds that spiraled across his skin. They were usually concealed by clothing, making them almost invisible. Zhou Jun sat up in bed, his gaze fixated on those scars, completely missing what Yong Jin had just said. After a long moment, he lifted his face in confusion and asked, “What did you just say?”

Yong Jin leaned down, gripping Zhou Jun’s chin. He smiled, but his eyes were cold. “Mr. Zhou has quite a boldness; it’s impressive.” Zhou Jun was taken aback, not understanding how his words could be seen as bold at all. Yong Jin moved closer, his voice dropping lower. “But unfortunately, in our relationship, it’s never been your call.”

Zhou Jun widened his eyes slightly, as if he didn’t understand why Yong Jin had previously said he smelled good and would die for him, but now spoke politely while his tone was as sharp as ice, piercing into him. Yong Jin released his grip, but instead of taking off his shoes, he just sat down at the edge of the bed.

Seeing Zhou Jun still lost in thought on the bed, Yong Jin raised an eyebrow. “Come here.” Zhou Jun pressed his lips tightly together, sitting quietly as he just stared at Yong Jin. It was only when Yong Jin asked him a second time that he slowly got off the bed and walked in front of him. His clothes were disheveled, his feet bare, and his expression was one of confusion.

He looked like a child who didn’t know what he had done wrong, innocent and pitiful. However, only Yong Jin was in the room, his eyes cold and without sympathy. He told Zhou Jun to kneel, his voice firm and commanding. Zhou Jun’s face froze, his hands slowly clenching into fists. Leaning against the bed with a challenging look, Yong Jin smirked. “Don’t want to?”

Zhou Jun slowly crouched down, half-kneeling in front of Yong Jin. His eyes felt sore, his heart ached. The corners of his mouth trembled, full of resentment. However, Yong Jin seemed oblivious to it all, gripping the back of Zhou Jun’s head and slowly pressing him toward his groin.

He instructed him to open his mouth, to relax his tongue and take him in properly.  Zhou Jun found himself filled with the man’s member for the first time. He had never done anything like this before; his soft throat instinctively constricted against the pressure until tears filled his eyes. He could feel Yong Jin’s hand on the back of his head tightening with undisguised anger.

He was also angry, wanting nothing more than to bite Yong Jin until he drew blood. He wished he could avoid this person forever, even considering escaping abroad. Overwhelmed with emotions, a flood of indignation and grievance surged within him. He heard Yong Jin breathe heavily, saying, “This has nothing to do with your brother. You were the one who provoke me first. It was you at the party a year ago who approached me.” The last part of his statement was almost through gritted teeth.

Zhou Jun felt a mix of confusion and frustration, his eyes reddening as he looked up. He knelt before Yong Jin, disheveled, he couldn’t comprehend what Yong Jin was saying.

In truth, he didn’t remember; Yong Jin knew that. Even though it was something he had always been aware of, a wave of resentment stirred within him, as if he had just realized who this person really was.

———–

Yong Jin attended that party solely for the sake of his friend. He wasn’t fond of crowded places, but due to his status, he had grown accustomed to being in social settings over the years, though he still preferred solitude. His discerning eye meant he rarely became interested in anyone at such events; he was rather arrogant when it came to lovers. Despite frequenting high-society gatherings, very few caught his attention.

He wasn’t devoid of desire, but he refused to give in. Even when he encountered someone appealing, Yong Jin maintained a certain distance. If someone could withstand his aloofness, he would treat them well; if they couldn’t, he wouldn’t hold it against them. Ultimately, he lacked possessiveness over his lovers. Because of this, even if he knew some of them were being unfaithful, he wouldn’t take action against them. Instead, he would provide them with generous severance payments and send them on their way.

He was actually quite a generous and considerate lover, though he would never admit to being anyone’s partner. There were too many expectations that came with being a lover, and Yong Jin was always reluctant to put in the effort. In reality, there were already too many things demanding his attention; someone in a position of power like him could not afford to get emotionally involved. He had grasped the weaknesses of many and understood the dangers of emotions all too well.

Meeting Zhou Jun was an unexpected twist, one that led to yet another unforeseen turn. He didn’t enjoy the banquet and wanted to leave, but he still had matters to discuss with his friends. So, he stepped out of the event and waited in the car. As Yong Jin sat in the back seat, silently smoking, with the window slightly open, he felt a little relaxed and weary after drinking. Just as he was loosening his bowtie to catch a breath, the other car door opened, and someone got in.

The man was half-drunk, wearing a dark red suit. In his drunken haze, he felt something cold pressed against his forehead and laughed, mumbling not to make a fuss. Yong Jin, illuminated by the streetlights, recognized the familiar face inside the car; he seemed to have seen him at the banquet. However, he didn’t relax at all—there were many people who wished him dead.

Deputy Chen turned around in the front seat and quietly said, “Sorry, Major General, I thought…” The Major General hadn’t specified who he was waiting for, so deputy Chen assumed the newcomer was the person he was expecting and didn’t get out to stop him. As a result, the imposing car belonging to Major General Yong was easily boarded by a stranger. The stranger, quite audacious, called out for a woman’s name, seemingly unfazed by the gun pressed against his temple, which could take his life at any moment. He boldly wrapped an arm around Yong Jin’s waist.

Not only that, the man even slipped his hand into Yong Jin’s jacket pocket. This time, even Deputy Chen’s gun was drawn, and the atmosphere inside the car was on edge, ready to explode at any moment. Yet, the man simply pulled out a lighter. A silver lighter adorned with a lion’s head spun deftly between his fingers.

With a click, the lighter flared to life, a small flame dancing upward. Yong Jin’s pupils contracted slightly at the sudden light. His heartbeat quickened—whether from a sense of danger or irritation at the unprecedented closeness of this stranger, he couldn’t tell. All he knew was that, in the flickering light, the face of the person before him became vividly clear.

Narrow eyes, gray-blue irises, lips more flushed than his cheeks. In the dim light, the flame flickered with the wind, casting fleeting shadows over the man’s face—a face with striking eyes, and, Yong Jin noted inwardly, distinctly masculine.

The stranger chuckled under his breath, a low, amused sound. “What a beauty,” he murmured. Before Yong Jin could react, the man seemed to finally notice the gun pressed against his head, letting out a casual sigh. “If you don’t pull the trigger, I’m about to do something you probably won’t like.” Yong Jin’s brows furrowed slightly. He’d never been interested in men, and no man had ever dared to be this bold with him.

The man spoke again in a teasing tone, “If I die under a peony, I’d still be a charming ghost,” then leaned in and kissed Yong Jin. Yong Jin froze completely—he never kissed anyone, partly due to his distant nature and partly because of his strong sense of personal boundaries. Besides, no one had ever dared to kiss him first. He hadn’t expected his first experience of being taken by surprise, kissed so boldly, would happen here, in this car, and with another man.