Pei Corporation’s R&D headquarters was located in Ningcheng’s most luxurious business district. The company occupied its own standalone building, and the top floor featured a specially designed private suite. Fully furnished and equipped with state-of-the-art facilities, Pei Che would occasionally stay overnight here when working late.
The entire space was a reflection of Pei Che’s personal style, a minimalist and clean aesthetic dominated by black, white, and gray. It was the epitome of a “celibate” style, designed to suppress all human desire. However, the lighting and views were superb. Looking down, one could see the neon lights weaving a river of stars upon the earth in the night sky.
This was Min Zhuozhou’s first time on the top floor of Pei Corporation. There were no clothes that fit him in the wardrobe. After showering, he could only wear one of Pei Che’s shirts as he stepped out of the bathroom.
Pei Che had dealt with the farce in the central plaza with ruthless efficiency. He had security drag away the shrieking Guo Ailin, then instructed He Yi to notify the PR department to strictly prevent the incident from spreading online. Afterward, he wrapped Min Zhuozhou tightly in his overcoat, like a dumpling, and led him upstairs.
Pei Che was on the phone with the head of the public relations department. He looked up and saw Min Zhuozhou walk out, wearing only a slightly oversized shirt. His long, straight legs had a translucent white glow, and his knees, bruised from some unknown fall, were tinged with a faint blue, like enamel painted on porcelain.
Pei Che’s gaze darkened slightly. He lowered his eyes, exchanged a few more words with the PR staff, and then abruptly hung up.
Min Zhuozhou had obediently dried his hair this time. His unstyled hair was fluffy and soft, with his bangs falling neatly over his forehead, making him look younger than usual, possessing an unadorned, clean aura.
Pei Che watched him approach in silence. His gaze was like cold water, neither peaceful nor gentle, with the familiar, piercing chill Min Zhuozhou had grown accustomed to hidden deep within his pupils.
Min Zhuozhou knew Pei Che was in a foul mood. He had just seen the text He Yi had sent him. The girl had found out that the recent deal had gone poorly, and Pei Che and his client had just happened to run into the rest of the group during the chaos in the plaza. The entire party had watched the spectacle in awkward silence, and there would undoubtedly be negative repercussions.
Pei Corporation had truly lost face right on its own doorstep. Good news rarely leaves the house, but bad news travels a thousand miles. Who knows how this incident would be embellished and packaged as dinner conversation for the city’s top executives.
Guo Ailin was the one who had caused this mess, but after throwing her tantrum, she had simply wiped her tears and fled, leaving Min Zhuozhou to bear the responsibility.
Pei Che watched the man opposite him stand there lost in thought, his eyes narrowing slightly. Suddenly, he reached out and pulled him into an embrace. His fingers slipped inside Min Zhuozhou’s shirt, stroking him repeatedly like a pet cat. His cold, sharp features projected an aura of aloofness, yet his hands were full of intimate tenderness.
Min Zhuozhou didn’t resist in the slightest, silently embedding himself in Pei Che’s embrace. He kept his eyes closed, letting Pei Che touch him, and only after a long moment did he ask, “Will the fallout be severe?”
“It’s manageable. Don’t worry.”
A faint weariness showed on Pei Che’s face as he buried himself in the crook of Min Zhuozhou’s neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his body wash. His voice fell exclusively into the narrow space between them:
“The main thing is that the case isn’t going smoothly. This client is known for being exceptionally difficult, but I think there’s still a good chance of working it out if we keep at it.”
Min Zhuozhou lowered his gaze, sliding his hand into Pei Che’s hair and gently massaging his scalp. “About what happened earlier… I’m sorry. I won’t let it happen again.”
Pei Che’s tone was flat. “Contact me next time something goes wrong.”
Min Zhuozhou leaned in and kissed the corner of his lips, saying a sincere “Thank you.”
The words “Thank you” were often on Min Zhuozhou’s lips, flippant, ethereal, half-real, half-illusory, but this was the first time Pei Che had heard them spoken with such earnest gravity.
He couldn’t help but lift his eyelids and stare at the other man for a moment, then reached out to lift his chin. “And how are you going to thank me?”
Min Zhuozhou let him trace his features with his gaze, his eyes suddenly curving into a smile. His soft fingertips pressed into Pei Che’s palm, his expression as tender as water.
The slight upward slant of his eyes held a hint of just the right amount of crimson. The small bead of his upper lip trembled slightly as he opened and closed his mouth, as if silently inviting a kiss.
Pei Che gazed at Min Zhuozhou’s beautiful face, a surge of irrepressible desire stirring deep within his pupils, only to be contained by his steady, profound gaze.
He refused to be the first to speak, as if doing so would confirm his guilt of being “tempted by a difficult sutra.” Instead, he waited in silence for Min Zhuozhou to make a bold first move.
Perhaps it was because tonight had been truly disastrous, and Pei Che’s appearance, descending like a guardian, had left an indelible mark on Min Zhuozhou’s heart. The decisive way he had intervened and the unspoken protection he offered were hard not to find moving.
And so, Min Zhuozhou’s gaze softened, revealing the unrestrained elegance of a playboy.
As if granting his wish, he draped his arms around Pei Che’s neck, his soft tongue deftly tracing a trail of wet kisses along the side of his ear. His voice was laced with a dreamlike affection: “My waist is healed.”
Those four words were like the first note before the floodgates burst. Pei Che’s breathing suddenly deepened. He had suffered through these days of Min Zhuozhou’s injury, forcing himself to maintain the cool, detached facade of a gentleman, refusing to acknowledge the secret, unfulfilled longing in his heart.
Still seated on the sofa, Pei Che gripped Min Zhuozhou’s slender waist, kissing him repeatedly. Min Zhuozhou leaned back slightly, trying to reach for something, but Pei Che only pulled him tighter. A wild, untamed fire flickered in Pei Che’s eyes as he pinned Min Zhuozhou down, refusing to let him escape.
Min Zhuozhou raised a hand, gently tracing the contours of Pei Che’s eyes. “Pei Che… let me go,” he coaxed softly. “Let me get the stuff. *Hiss*, you’re biting me too hard!”
Pei Che’s grip remained iron-clad. Only after sinking his teeth into Min Zhuozhou’s collarbone to leave a mark did he slowly lift his head. He stared unblinkingly at the man, whose face was now flushed crimson. His voice was rougher than usual. “Zhuozhou, we don’t have any here.”
Min Zhuozhou froze. He suddenly remembered they were in Pei Che’s office suite, not at home. The space was so clean and minimalist it felt devoid of human warmth; there truly wouldn’t be any of *that* kind of thing here.
“Then no… let’s go home and then…”
Before Min Zhuozhou could finish his sentence, Pei Che’s lips clamped over his, silencing him. The usual coolness in Pei Che’s deep eyes had vanished, replaced by the raw, untamed ferocity of a beast.
Like an unyielding tyrant, Pei Che leaned down to Min Zhuozhou’s ear and declared, “You can do it. It’s not like you’ve never done it before.”
The loose shirt Min Zhuozhou wore was stripped halfway off in an instant. He held Pei Che tightly, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, feeling his heart race like a frantic drum. Blood surged through his veins, sending a heady, intoxicating rush to his head.
After a moment of tension, he compromised and let go of Pei Che’s hand, a silent acquiescence.
Pei Che, his patience completely gone, began to conquer Min Zhuozhou’s body like a young male beast marking its territory. In the chaos, he thought he heard his phone ringing, but he had no intention of answering it. His gaze was fixed on Min Zhuozhou, as if he were about to devour him whole in the next moment,
“Ugh…”
Something was touched, and a twisted pain shot through Min Zhuozhou’s waist. His expression shifted slightly, and he bit his lip hard.
Hearing the sound of pain, Pei Che finally stopped. A shallow frown formed between his handsome eyebrows as he placed his warm palm over Min Zhuozhou’s waist, his voice unusually hoarse: “Where did I touch you?”
The bowstring was drawn tight, ready to be released. Min Zhuozhou knew that calling a halt now would be no different from dangling meat before a starving beast only to snatch it away. Gritting his teeth, he decided to endure it, his voice soft and pleading. “Mr. Pei, please… be gentler.”
Pei Che hesitated for a moment between being a gentleman and showing humanity. After a heartbeat, he decided to push through to the end, though he significantly lightened his touch.
Yet, even in that brief lull, the phone’s ringtone, which they had both been deliberately ignoring, seized the moment to wedge itself into their attention.
The marimba melody persisted relentlessly, finally severing the drowning, intimate atmosphere.
Even someone as emotionally stable as Pei Che looked ready to curse. He snatched his phone from the side table next to the sofa, feeling a sudden, violent urge to exile the caller to the Tarim Basin to drill for oil.
But when he saw who was calling, his expression smoothed into an unexpected calm. He stared at the screen, his brow furrowing slowly. After a long silence, he glanced at Min Zhuozhou and said hoarsely, “I have to take this call.”
Min Zhuozhou steadied his breathing, his gaze soft as he silently gestured for Pei Che to go ahead.
Min Zhuozhou didn’t know who was calling Pei Che, but he still caught the way Pei Che’s eyes instantly grew still, like the cool moonlight gradually receding, and the surging tide returning to a calm.
After about five minutes, Pei Che emerged from the next room. He glanced at Min Zhuozhou, who sat on the sofa with his clothes disarrayed, and walked over to silently help him straighten his attire.
“Are you going out?” Min Zhuozhou reached out and pressed down on the hand Pei Che was using to adjust his collar. His gaze held a hint of amusement, beneath which lay an unconcealed chill.
“Something urgent came up,” Pei Che said, unwilling to explain further. “You’ll sleep here tonight. I’ll have someone send you clothes tomorrow.”
Min Zhuozhou’s tongue silently swept across the inside of his cheek, but he chuckled softly. “Am I supposed to answer the door dressed like this?”
“I’ll try to be back,” Pei Che said, his voice deep. Min Zhuozhou’s description made him feel a bit uncomfortable. “Or I’ll have them pack the clothes and leave them outside the door. You can open it after they’ve gone.”
“Mr. Pei, it’s very late.”
Min Zhuozhou silently changed the way he addressed him. He narrowed his eyes slightly, the smile on his face as inscrutable as mist, his gaze holding a profound emotion that, upon closer inspection, was extremely cold.
Six words. Perhaps they were merely a suggestion, or perhaps another subtle plea to stay.
“Yes, I know.”
The lingering warmth of their intimacy had not yet faded, and Pei Che’s expression was not as cold and heavy as usual. Instead, there was a rare restlessness in his features, his mind drifting.
His gaze no longer rested on Min Zhuozhou. He withdrew his hand from the one pressing it down and said softly, “Be good, Zhuozhou.”