Sui Yuye frowned inwardly.
“I just happened to want someone to chat with, that’s all.” Mr. Chu did not deny it.
Sui Yuye said nothing more, thinking to himself, why hasn’t that kid Shao Jinghe come back yet?
This man had behaved impeccably from start to finish—calm, unpretentious, and without any sense of pressure, giving the illusion of being easy to talk to.
The disguise wasn’t the main point; rather, how terrifying must his true personality be for him to need to package himself like this?
“The breeze is making me a bit uncomfortable. I’ll head inside first.” Mr. Chu stood up. “Good luck.”
Sui Yuye: “…”
A waiter hurried past with a tray, nearly bumping into someone.
“Sorry! My apologies, sir!” Even though he hadn’t actually collided, the waiter couldn’t help but apologize. When he looked up, he met a pair of eyes gazing down at him.
They were vertical pupils releasing a dazzling light.
The waiter froze in place.
Mr. Chu entered the restroom and walked toward the sink, glancing up at his reflection in the mirror.
He paused.
A few seconds later, he moved closer to the mirror, took off his glasses, and placed them on the counter.
Without the glasses obscuring his features, he seemed like a different person—his eyes curved inward and upward at the corners, deep and profound, with pitch-black pupils sharpened into fine vertical slits.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror for a moment, then suddenly let out a low chuckle.
“…Truly insane.”
His Rom trait had reacted so strongly to that man that he had involuntarily activated the dazzling light.
Among the genes of the secondary gender, some high-level Roms are naturally and intensely drawn to a very few individuals—not out of admiration or love at first sight, but a genetic lock.
The dominant gene within screams madly: control him, dominate him, possess him, make him submit to you.
Shao Jinghe returned and glanced in the direction Mr. Chu had left. “How did you end up chatting with that Chu guy? Don’t tell me you know him too.”
Sui Yuye: “No, he came over to greet me on his own.”
“Last time it was Mian Guanfei, this time it’s that Chu guy. You really have a way with people.”
The words were thick with resentment, and Sui Yuye had no idea what he had done to provoke him.
“What did you talk about?” Shao Jinghe sat down.
Sui Yuye tilted his chin, his gaze pointing toward Quan Wangcheng. “Just about this guy. It’s my first time seeing someone who looks like that, as if he were sculpted.”
Shao Jinghe’s face darkened as he looked at him. “Are you fucking a looks person?”
Sui Yuye suddenly realized: “…”
“Who’s better-looking, him or me?”
“You are, you are.”
But instead of improving, Shao Jinghe’s expression grew even darker. Seeing him start up again, Sui Yuye sighed helplessly.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sui Yuye caught sight of the corner of the deck. His eyes lit up, and he turned to ask Shao Jinghe, “Do you have a favorite song?”
“What for? Are you going to sing for me?”
For once, Sui Yuye didn’t bicker with him. “Just tell me.”
“Stay With Me.”
Shao Jinghe searched his memory for the melody of the song, nodded, and, under Shao Jinghe’s suspicious gaze, walked over to him.
He snapped his fingers crisply:
“Don’t take your eyes off me.”
The light at the edge of the deck wasn’t particularly bright, and the pure gold Steinway piano in the corner had been overlooked. Sui Yuye sat on the piano bench and pressed the keys directly.
The city behind him instantly became a backdrop, its brilliance reduced to a virtual illusion.
Sui Yuye looked up and smiled at Shao Jinghe. With just that faint smile, Shao Jinghe forgot to move the wine glass away from his lips.
Excellent performances were nothing new to them, yet their gazes lingered.
Not for the music, but for the person playing the piano.
He carried no air of superiority, yet people dared only watch from a distance. He gave the illusion of brilliance, but upon closer look, it was a sharpness that pricked the senses—stimulating one’s perception.
How perfectly suited for capture and taming.
His very being should bear your name.
Just as Sui Yuye finished playing and was about to rise, he turned to see three handsome young men standing nearby, their eyes fixed intently on him.
One of them asked, “Can you play Una Mattina?”
Sui Yuye thought for a moment, then sat back down.
They were listening, but their attention seemed less on the music and more on the person.
After he finished, Sui Yuye noticed the three still standing there, showing no sign of leaving.
“If I’d known, I would have brought my violin to Fan City. Who would have thought I’d find someone here who plays so perfectly to my taste.”
“You play very well. Are you a professional?”
Sui Yuye replied, “I’m self-taught.”
The man took out a business card and handed it to him. “Would you like to come visit White City for a while? The three of us play instruments too. We could show you something different.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll cover all travel and accommodation. White City is no worse than Fan City,” another added proudly.
Sui Yuye found it somewhat amusing and was about to reach for the card when a hand with distinct knuckles suddenly intercepted.
A chair screeched as Shao Jinghe dragged him away.
“Hey, are you leaving already?” Sui Yuye nearly stumbled from the pull, his hand aching from the grip. His temper flared. “What the hell is wrong with you now?”
“I even played what you like, and you’re still not satisfied? Why are you so hard to please?”
Shao Jinghe pulled him into the lower district. “So that’s why you wanted to take that card and go to White City? Tired of being a bodyguard for me, eager to find your next gig?”
His words were unbearably harsh.
Sui Yuye couldn’t help but laugh in frustration. “Can you stop jumping to the worst conclusions? Just because I took the card doesn’t mean I’m going!”
“Sui Yuye, have you forgotten who you are?”
Sui Yuye fell silent.
Shao Jinghe stepped closer, pressing forward. “An hourly-rate bodyguard—what kind of illusion did this place of power and influence give you? Do you really think you can climb the social ladder?”
Shao Jinghe backed him against the wall. “How much do you think you’re worth? Selling you wouldn’t even buy one of my watches.”
“…”
Realizing what he had said, Shao Jinghe froze, his expression hardening instantly. “No, I didn’t mean—”
“You’re right,” Sui Yuye said.
Shao Jinghe’s face stiffened.
Shao Jinghe was the lead investor of a top merger fund at an international acquisition group, netting hundreds of millions from a single deal—buying companies, reshaping them, and selling them for astronomical profits.
“But who are you to judge my worth?” Sui Yuye said calmly, never once showing anger or humiliation.
If Shao Jinghe weren’t his client, he would have loved to beat this bastard to death.
Shao Jinghe wanted to make amends but couldn’t find the words. The only thing he could think of was to grab Sui Yuye, bind his hands, and force him not to look at him that way, not to treat him with such indifference.
“Good evening, gentlemen. Would you care for a drink?” A server approached with a tray.
Just as the tray tilted, Sui Yuye abruptly grabbed Shao Jinghe and shoved him into the room, closing the door. The moment he pulled out the key, a sharp knife swept past his waist, slicing through the fabric.
He sidestepped to avoid it, delivering a flying kick to the attacker’s knife-wielding wrist.
Feinting a move, Sui Yuye swept the attacker’s legs out from under him and pinned him to the ground.
Thump.
His heart suddenly gave a heavy thud, nearly causing him to lose his grip.
Mr. Chu, who had just passed by, paused in his steps. Other staff members shouted for security, who soon arrived and took the attacker away.
Sui Yuye leaned against the wall, barely managing to steady himself, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead.
What was happening? Had he been drugged? But he hadn’t drunk anything.
No, it wasn’t that kind of feeling—it was even more unsettling than that.
Inside the room, Shao Jinghe heard the silence outside. “Sui Yuye? What’s wrong with you?! Open the door!”
Sui Yuye shook his head, trying to clear his mind, but dizziness overwhelmed him, and he stumbled backward. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around his waist, and a deep voice sounded from above and behind him:
“What’s wrong with you?”
Through blurred vision, he saw Mr. Chu, his face unobstructed by glasses.
Sui Yuye tilted his head back, leaning against the other’s shoulder, his fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. Through gritted teeth, he forced out an urgent plea:
“Hurry… give me an order… give me an order…”