Ren Changdong let Zhang Bin off the hook, but Zhang Bin kept delaying his return to the country. Word had it that someone as proud as him couldn’t take such a heavy blow; his spirit had instantly collapsed, and he was completely ruined.
When Li You heard about this, he felt so guilty that he couldn’t eat or sleep. He refused to let a man with such a bright future ruin his life in a foreign land just because of his own willful stubbornness.
“How primitive are the medical facilities on that island? What if he gets long-term complications?”
Li You went to the company, begging his uncle to give him back his documents.
Ren Changdong flipped through a project proposal without even lifting his eyes. Looking at Li You’s mediocre capabilities, he thought it was sheer arrogance for him to insist on marrying Zhang Bin.
“You can jump into the ocean several times and not die? And you even love eating young boys?” Ren Changdong asked. “Is this Zhang Bin the Dragon King of the East Sea or something?”
Ren Changdong had long since dug up everything on Zhang Bin. The sports Zhang Bin excelled at were volleyball and swimming. Li You sniffled, feeling a bit enlightened by his uncle’s sarcasm.
Assistant He “politely invited” Li You to the sofa, reminding him to mind his influence within the company.
Assistant He’s tone was flat, sounding nothing like someone discussing life and death.
“Chairman Ren has already raised his hand in mercy. If he really kicks the bucket, it’s just a reflection of his own poor stress tolerance.”
Li You grabbed a throw pillow and hurled it at He Chengfeng’s face. No matter how willful Li You was, he still had a sense of right and wrong. He knew that no matter how hard his uncle made things for Zhang Bin, it was still strictly a business matter. There was no way his uncle would stoop so low as to leak someone’s private photos. It had to be this flattering, power-abusing dog of a He Chengfeng who was deliberately making things difficult for his beloved.
Li You wasn’t joking with He Chengfeng: “If Zhang Bin suffers even the slightest mishap, I’ll make you switch cities to advance your career.”
Just as Ren Changdong was about to warn Li You to stop talking like an adult, Li You burst into tears again. Li You didn’t even know whether he was crying for Zhang Bin or crying for himself. He couldn’t wrap his head around how someone like Zhang Bin—who had parents—could possibly face people if those photos were leaked out into the world.
Ren Changdong spent his days deciding projects that sustained the livelihoods of hundreds or thousands of people, leaving him with no spare emotional bandwidth for anyone. Yet Li You’s tears felt like a pea pressing right through his mattress.
“The third assistant has already gone to pick him up,” He Chengfeng said, unable to bear watching Ren Changdong make concessions. “Don’t make things difficult for Chairman Ren.”
“What kind of thing is an assistant anyway? Why are you trying to meddle in our family affairs?”
As soon as Li You finished acting fierce, his face shifted into another fragile, pitiful expression.
“Uncle, you should go pick up Zhang Bin yourself. He’s a proud man; otherwise, he won’t be able to step down from this stage with dignity.”
Ren Changdong used his thumb to wipe the tear from the corner of the kid’s eye.
He shifted his gaze away from Li You’s face and out toward the floor-to-ceiling window, where the city’s blue skyline looked like a frozen ocean. Ren Changdong thought back to the days before Li You was born, when his family of five used to vacation by the sea. The very first major project Ren Changdong had handled himself was the development of an island.
Those days felt as distant as a past lifetime.
He lowered his head, his gaze falling back onto Li You’s face. Li You had timed it perfectly, letting a carefully gathered teardrop roll smoothly down his cheek.
Ren Changdong had seen Li You genuinely cry before, so he naturally knew the kid was acting. But the act worked. His eldest sister loved Li You the most, and he loved Li You the most.
Since Li You was making such a fuss over Zhang Bin, Ren Changdong had no choice but to go see this man for himself.
“Reschedule the itinerary,” Ren Changdong said, stubborn to the end. “We’ll go inspect a project I invested in earlier, and drop by the neighboring island along the way to visit His Majesty the Dragon King.”
Li You burst into laughter through his tears. He Chengfeng glanced coldly at Li You, watching how an idiot who could cry and laugh all at once managed to get whatever he wanted under Ren Changdong’s wing.
“I can go fetch him,” Ren Changdong negotiated with Li You. “But from now on, this person’s name is not allowed to be spoken in this house.”
Li You nodded gently.
“But Uncle, I had an elementary school classmate named Zhang Bin too—”
“Shut up.”
Ren Changdong didn’t want to hear the name Zhang Bin ever again.
With plane tickets that looked completely identical, the names kept changing—from Zhang Bin to Ren Changdong.
Ren Changdong ended up walking the exact path Zhang Bin had taken. The two of them flew the same route and stepped onto the exact same boat. Without realizing it, Ren Changdong even chose the same double seat: Zhang Bin had looked out the window at the sea, while Ren Changdong sat on the aisle, refusing to look at it.
Ren Changdong had never imagined that some twist of fate would make him step foot onto an island again, nor that he would ever try to walk out of the damp, enclosed prison he had trapped himself in.
Ultimately, he landed on an unknown, nameless little island.
The island Zhang Bin chose was extremely small. Lacking capital injection, its development level was very low; tourists were rare, and there was only a single hotel on the entire island.
The hotel was built right at the turn of the millennium, making it a very trendy and fashionable establishment back then. However, due to a lack of maintenance, it remained frozen in the year 2000, giving it a strong “retro-futuristic” vibe today.
Ren Changdong couldn’t understand why Zhang Bin had chosen this island out of all places.
The island didn’t need to be inspected by anyone, nor did it care who came looking for it. It just drifted aimlessly in the ocean, doing nothing while its people wasted time by the handful.
Ren Changdong found the beach outside the hotel.
Zhang Bin, the man “supposedly driven to near-death by Ren Changdong,” was mingling among the locals, sunbathing. He was wearing a pair of blue-and-red floral beach shorts, sunglasses, and a silver necklace. Being the only Asian face on the entire beach, he looked striking as he lay there.
Ren Changdong looked in Zhang Bin’s direction, only catching sight of an arm stretching out from behind the chair. That hand picked up a cocktail glass on the table.
At that moment, Ren Changdong knew the rumors of the man’s suicide attempt must have been fishy. A man using a classic cocktail glass might want to die, but someone using a martini glass almost certainly didn’t.
Looking at this Dragon King drinking sweet wine and sunbathing—let alone seeking death, he didn’t even want to suffer a vitamin D deficiency—Ren Changdong thought that only an idiot like Li You would shed tears for such a guy.
Ren Changdong walked up to Zhang Bin. As his gaze brushed over Zhang Bin’s body, he quickly looked away. Accustomed to seeing Zhang Bin in formal business attire in files and reports, Ren Changdong felt deeply unaccustomed to seeing him wearing so little now.
Zhang Bin shifted his legs, crossing them at the knee. He already knew who had arrived, but he showed no intention of getting up to welcome him—he had already ruined his standing anyway, so what did it matter?
Zhang Bin was a man with a sharp mind hidden beneath a slick exterior.
According to his file, none of his physical stats were out of the ordinary, yet those ordinary numbers combined to form a body that was visually excessively well-proportioned. Among men of his height, his legs were a full stretch longer than most, and combined with a small head, his figure appeared even more striking. He used a standard height to absolute perfection. A man who usually looked unassuming possessed a layer of lean muscle hidden beneath his suit.
Ren Changdong now understood that Li You hadn’t just fallen for a simple popsicle when it came to Zhang Bin.
Yet this physique, which even a professional bone-setter couldn’t find fault with, was full of flaws in Ren Changdong’s eyes. Ren Changdong thought: This guy’s straightness doesn’t even point in the right direction. His scheming and his orientation have a hundred and eighty bends—what’s the use of having straight legs?
Zhang Bin lifted his chin, using two middle fingers to push his sunglasses up onto his forehead, pulling his fringe along with it. He had a beautifully shaped forehead and a textbook-standard face, but Ren Changdong still found him displeasing to the eye.
Zhang Bin deliberately ignored Ren Changdong, fixing his gaze entirely on the newcomer, He Chengfeng. Ren Changdong thought to himself that this Zhang Bin truly was a man of very low density; with such a frivolous attitude, it was no wonder the ocean wouldn’t take him.
“If you have any requests, let’s find a place to talk things over properly,” He Chengfeng said, telling Zhang Bin to get up first.
“You can make an appointment with my assistant,” Zhang Bin didn’t move an inch.
“Where is your assistant?” He Chengfeng asked.
Zhang Bin put down his wine glass. “My assistant is back in the country. Right now, he’s probably waiting to collect his mooncakes for the Mid-Autumn Festival.”
Only then did Zhang Bin’s gaze fall upon Ren Changdong. The look in his eyes was anything but friendly—it was far too blunt.
With his career currently stalled, unable to return home, and made the laughingstock of others, Zhang Bin was naturally unhappy. He was polite to everyone else, but held a grudge solely against Ren Changdong. He loved putting on a facade, but when it came to Ren Changdong, he couldn’t even be bothered to pretend.
In Zhang Bin’s eyes, Ren Changdong was hopelessly old-fashioned.
He hid himself behind boring clothing. The man sported a retro pompadour, wore a classic three-piece formal suit, and even his shoes were classic oxford shoes without a single brogue perforation.
Zhang Bin thought: With his chest puffed out like that, he must be wearing shirt garters underneath to keep everything tightly bound. That’s the only way he can maintain this stiff, proper facade on the surface.
Zhang Bin put down his glass. He truly couldn’t fathom how Ren Changdong managed to maintain such an upright, serious demeanor while leaking his inappropriate photos—truly a barking dog doesn’t bite, but a quiet one stabs in the back.
“Chairman Ren on the island, what brings you here?” Zhang Bin asked knowingly. “For a classy vacation photo shoot?”
Only then did Ren Changdong realize his attire was completely inappropriate for the setting. Most men only wore a suit twice in their lives: once for wedding photos, and once on the day of their wedding banquet. But Ren Changdong only ever wore formal wear.
Too lazy to deal with Ren Changdong, Zhang Bin stood up and walked away, leaving only a trail of footprints in the sand.
He was a man who calculated a hundred steps ahead without making a single misstep; he loved a predictable, track-like life where everything was planned out.
He had top-tier grades in school, pursued his favorite sports to a professional level, and though he won and lost lawsuits at work, every outcome fell within his expectations. This was a man who didn’t even sleep on his side for fear of messing up his posture or causing facial asymmetry.
And now, a man who wouldn’t allow his own spine to develop scoliosis had his entire life trajectory upended by someone else. Photos of him being pinned to a chair with someone riding his shoelaces were plastered everywhere.
His parents, seeing him take an out-of-season island vacation, knew he was in trouble, but it was awkward for them to ask. Two people nearing fifty still had to stress over their son.
Zhang Bin was dead set on leaving Ren Changdong hanging. He knew that for a man like Ren Changdong, his time wasn’t priced the same as ordinary people’s. If he drained him of two days, he definitely wouldn’t be losing out.
Ren Changdong didn’t say anything, while He Chengfeng silently cursed Zhang Bin for being an ungrateful wretch.
That night, Zhang Bin took a shower and went looking for a drink, frowning as he inspected the wine cabinet. With virtually no tourists on this island, material supplies were slow, and the wine selection was mediocre.
Zhang Bin pulled out the last barely passable bottle of dry red.
Suddenly, he heard a steady knocking at the door: three firm knocks followed by two more—a thoroughly businesslike knocking pattern. Figuring it was Ren Changdong, Zhang Bin walked over to open the door. Passing a mirror, he glanced at himself to make sure his hair wasn’t messy.
Zhang Bin peered through the peephole and saw that it was just the assistant.
“Such a haughty facade,” Zhang Bin cursed Ren Changdong inwardly. “Flying all the way over here not even to see me himself—did he really think he was here for a photoshoot?”
Ignoring him, Zhang Bin walked back inside to pour his wine. He Chengfeng followed him in, walked up to the island bar counter, and boldly pressed a hand over the back of Zhang Bin’s hand. Fearing he would spill the wine, Zhang Bin didn’t make a sudden move. He Chengfeng, however, misinterpreted the gesture as tacit permission.
He had long heard rumors that Zhang Bin was this kind of person.
After pouring the wine, Zhang Bin withdrew his hand. He watched as He Chengfeng grabbed the decanter and started chugging straight from it, spilling most of the wine down his trench coat.
Just as Zhang Bin was about to say something, the trench coat dropped to the floor—revealing that he had nothing on underneath. Zhang Bin hurriedly averted his eyes.
“First thing tomorrow morning, fly back to the mainland. Tell Li You to stop throwing tantrums, and stop making things difficult for Chairman Ren.”
He Chengfeng didn’t want to see Ren Changdong distressed.
“Put your clothes on.”
Zhang Bin had no personal beef with He Chengfeng, so he didn’t want to use overly harsh words. Besides, he couldn’t understand why He Chengfeng felt the need to go to such lengths.
Just as He Chengfeng was about to ask Zhang Bin what high-and-mighty act he was putting on, he noticed that Zhang Bin wasn’t even looking at him. Zhang Bin’s gaze was fixed entirely on the counter, staring at the empty decanter.
Zhang Bin said softly:
“What a waste.”
Even when being forced to drink at heavy business banquets, He Chengfeng had never felt this humiliated. He glared at Zhang Bin, wishing he could claw that face apart.
Zhang Bin asked him: “Anything else?”
After seeing the assistant out, Zhang Bin tossed all the collected contact info cards straight into the ice bucket, the various inks bleeding slightly among the melting ice cubes.
When Zhang Bin played with people, it was always entirely based on mutual consent—never deception or coercion. He had no idea what kind of person Ren Changdong took him to be; probably no better than an unruly beast that couldn’t control its urges.
A subtle disgust welled up inside Zhang Bin toward Ren Changdong. He thought: Even if this man wields immense wealth and power, and puts up a golden facade on the outside, at his core he’s nothing more than a cheap, low-class scoundrel. He can’t stand the thought of his own nephew climbing into someone’s bed, yet he treats other people’s children like disposable resources.
An aristocratic status, paired with third-rate stock—it completely wasted such an undeniably striking appearance.
Meanwhile, back in his room, Ren Changdong was lying curled up on the bed. Exhausted from the journey, prone to seasickness and fear of water, he had collapsed into bed the moment he arrived and hadn’t woken up since, missing young He entirely.
His first night on the island was plagued by terrible sleep. When he finally woke up, his whole body felt as though it had been rattled apart. Nightmares had looped through his mind over and over again—that cursed brother-in-law of his, rising up from the water repeatedly with a burned, charred skull.
Ren Changdong steadied himself against the bedpost to get up.
Even though his head felt dizzy and heavy, he forced himself into motion. He had only allotted himself two days to handle this mess. Over the years, he had turned himself into a spinning top carrying the livelihoods of tens of thousands; the moment he stopped, he would fall, and thousands of mouths depending on him for food meant he had to bear the responsibility.
Out of sheer habit, he put on his shirt, grabbed his shirt garters, strapped the leg loops firmly around his solid, well-toned thighs, and clipped the fasteners onto the hem of his shirt.
As he reached for his waistcoat, Ren Changdong remembered Zhang Bin’s mockery from yesterday. He stood there bare-legged for a moment of contemplation, then lowered the waistcoat back down.
Ren Changdong proceeded to put on his suit trousers. Hating the feeling of his bare ankles exposed to the air, he put on formal dress socks and leather shoes anyway. Looking at himself in the mirror, he felt profoundly uncomfortable—omitting just two pieces of clothing made him feel as if he were wearing nothing at all. He couldn’t fathom how Zhang Bin had the nerve to lounge around wearing nothing but floral shorts.
Leaning against the wall, Ren Changdong stepped out of his room, instantly resuming that familiar expression of fatigue masked by an aura of utter indestructibility.