He Qian did not answer.
The private room door was pushed open, and Zhou Xuying’s special assistant entered. “I have already spoken with the manager. Please feel free to order whatever you like. President Zhou has a business engagement upstairs and cannot join you.”
“Since you are all still students, please refrain from drinking. Be sure to head back in groups later and stay safe.”
After giving these instructions and glancing at He Qian, the assistant left.
With Zhou Xuying absent, He Qian’s expression softened considerably. However, throughout the meal, he remained as restless as if he were sitting on a bed of needles, finding no flavor in the food.
A pair of burning, overly concerned eyes remained fixed on his shoulders and lips, staring until his scalp felt numb. With a cold face, He Qian stood up and headed to the restroom.
From a distance, he spotted a dark figure leaning against an arched doorway, smoking. The silhouette radiated a sense of desolation and tragedy. The familiar scent of tobacco allowed He Qian to identify the man instantly.
He Qian ignored him and walked toward the restroom.
This act of defiance incited Zhou Xuying. He took two final drags, stubbed out the cigarette, washed his hands, and followed. He grabbed He Qian’s arm with one hand, dragged him into a stall, and locked the door with a loud thud.
Zhou Xuying pinned him against the door. He Qian’s shoulder slammed hard against the wood, and as the hand on his shoulder continued to apply pressure, his face turned pale from the pain.
He Qian looked up at Zhou Xuying. “What madness is this?”
The pressure from Zhou Xuying’s fingers increased, his brow furrowed tightly. This was how Zhou Xuying looked when he was truly angry.
“Zhou Xuying!” He Qian hissed in a low voice.
Zhou Xuying stared at He Qian with eyes that seemed laced with venom, looking through his thin frame and into his very marrow. The next moment, Zhou Xuying sealed He Qian’s lips.
The kiss was forceful and brimming with possessiveness.
In the cramped stall, the sound of footsteps outside felt like a sharp blade hanging over He Qian’s neck, accompanied by a sense of humiliation and oppression. He Qian’s eyes were rimmed with red, and he did not respond to the kiss, appearing numb and soulless.
Zhou Xuying snapped back to his senses upon seeing He Qian’s icy gaze. He stroked He Qian’s eyelids and lowered his head to leave a clear mark on the red mole on his neck. Then, Zhou Xuying opened the door and left, his back appearing resolute.
The door creaked as it swung. He Qian stood in place, his face tight. He felt that Zhou Xuying was a madman. Only a madman would kiss in a place like this.
He waited a moment before stepping out, only to run directly into Chen Ran, who was standing there with a look of pure shock. He Qian’s heart skipped a beat. He did not know how long Chen Ran had been standing there or if he had heard anything through the door.
He Qian found it somewhat ridiculous, yet he also felt a strange sense of relief. He walked to the sink and calmly washed his hands.
Chen Ran stood stiffly beside him. “He Qian, you,”
He Qian pulled a paper towel to dry his hands. “Come here for a moment.”
“Oh, okay.”
Chen Ran followed He Qian to the rooftop balcony. The autumn wind blew, carrying a chill that cut through the remaining warmth of late summer. It felt almost bone chilling, making He Qian’s eyes sting. He leaned against the terrace railing, backlit by the soft glow of the lights, appearing warm and gentle despite his incredibly sharp gaze.
“Chen Ran, do you like men?”
Chen Ran frowned. “Yes.”
“What they say is true. I like men, and,” He Qian said, looking into Chen Ran’s clear eyes, “I have a boyfriend. As you have seen.”
Chen Ran was speechless, his hands gripping his pilled wool sweater, trembling slightly. “Mr. Zhou is a decent entrepreneur, but there is an eleven year age gap between you. He Qian, are you in some kind of trouble?”
He Qian looked up at the night sky, which was filled with stars. Yet, he could not see a single glimmer of light.
“I do not need to explain myself to you. I am simply reminding you to stop looking at me with those eyes. He does not like it. And neither do I.”
With that, He Qian left. When he returned to the private room, he continued his meal as if nothing had happened. Chen Ran was not nearly as composed. He sat beside He Qian appearing lost and dejected, repeatedly hesitating to speak.
In another private room.
Zhou Xuying, wearing leather gloves, slammed a file onto the table with a loud smack and leaned down to light a cigarette. A plume of smoke drifted from his thin lips, obscuring his vision as it rose. He arched an eyebrow at Zhou Mingde, who sat opposite him, his gaze dark and cold blooded.
Zhou Mingde looked at the document, his weathered hands shaking as cold sweat poured down his forehead. “Madman! You are a madman!”
Zhou Xuying looked at him calmly. “Zhou Cheng escaped prison and ran to the border to trick me into a business deal. Did he really think I would not see through such a clumsy tactic?”
A smirk played on his lips, his eyes full of hidden violence. “I said I wanted an identity. If you had cooperated honestly, I would have simply sent him away and left the Zhou family in peace.”
Zhou Xuying needed the identity of an illegitimate son of the Beijing Zhou family to send his elder brother to prison. But Zhou Cheng refused to accept his fate and fled the country. Zhou Xuying had been injured and required surgery while capturing him abroad. The Zhou family thought Zhou Xuying would die overseas.
But he did not. This madman had returned safely.
Zhou Mingde’s face was deathly pale. “Why, why did it have to be our family? Zhou Xuying, why are you so desperate to be an illegitimate son and ruin your reputation?”
Zhou Xuying had no blood relation to Zhou Mingde whatsoever. He was like a demon who had forcibly descended upon the Zhou family under the guise of an illegitimate son, wielding a stack of evidence of Zhou Cheng’s crimes to send Zhou Mingde’s only son to prison.
“Because your name is Zhou Mingde, and you are a native of Beijing.”
“What, what do you mean?” Zhou Mingde felt his vision go dark before changing the subject. “What do you plan to do with my son?”
Zhou Xuying held his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray. His thin lips moved, his voice heavy. He said calmly, “Originally, he could have spent his entire life in prison.”
Now, unfortunately, Zhou Cheng’s life was about to end very soon.
“Knock, knock, knock,”
The special assistant knocked at the door. Zhou Xuying checked his watch and stood up abruptly, leaving Zhou Mingde with only a view of his back. The moment the door closed, Zhou Mingde collapsed to the floor in despair.
At the door, the assistant reported in a low voice. Zhou Xuying’s eyes brightened, gleaming with excitement.
The dinner ended.
He Qian left alone as the crowd dispersed. When he reached the hotel lobby, the manager approached him with a smile, holding a bottle of high-end wine.
“Mr. He, this is a gift from the General Manager. Please accept it.”
He Qian froze for a second as the surrounding students cast surprised glances. This restaurant was the flagship of a major chain, and getting a table was nearly impossible. To be recognized by the manager and gifted wine was a level of prestige shared by very few in Beijing. This was not a privilege usually granted to the young lover of some big shot.
“Thank you,” He Qian said with a faint smile, accepting the gift.
He carried the wine and entered the Bentley under the watchful eyes of everyone. After tonight, the rumors of He Qian being a kept man seemed half false.
As He Qian entered the car, that burning gaze from the crowd slowly dimmed. The Bentley pulled away from the restaurant. The wine in He Qian’s hand was sealed tight, sloshing gently as the car braked but unable to escape.
Just like He Qian, who could never escape Zhou Xuying’s grasp.