Entering the indoor pool, Ren Changdong was enveloped by the humid air mixed with the scent of disinfectant. He merely glanced at the water’s surface, and his entire body immediately tensed up.
Ren Changdong found a lounge chair at the poolside to sit on. He turned sideways, refusing to look at the water any longer.
Ever since arriving on the island, Zhang Bin would go sea swimming whenever the weather was nice, and come to the indoor pool on stormy days like today. It was a brief escape from his high-intensity urban life to burn off his restless, unplaced energy.
He used the pool to exhaust himself and only came ashore after swimming all morning.
As soon as Zhang Bin emerged from the water, he spotted Ren Changdong sitting by the edge, which came as quite a surprise. He had no idea Ren Changdong loathed him so much that the man was deliberately sitting sideways just to avoid looking at him.
Taking advantage of the fact that Ren Changdong wasn’t looking his way, Zhang Bin took off his swim cap and swept his wet hair back from his forehead. Using the reflection of his swim goggles, he checked his face to make sure no indentation marks had been left behind.
Ren Changdong raised his eyes, and their gazes finally met. Ren Changdong looked at his distant, amorous eyes—truly, there was never a moment when this man wasn’t putting on a display to charm others.
Zhang Bin lay down on the chair next to Ren Changdong and habitually reached out to grab a coconut, only to find that no waiter was delivering meals today. Taking a closer look, he realized even the lifeguard was gone. This was undoubtedly because Ren Changdong had cleared the place out.
Zhang Bin got up and went to the small snack bar. The young server he had grown close to had left a note telling him to help himself.
Zhang Bin tucked the payment for the coconut and a tip under the glass cup on the counter, grabbed a coconut, and started hammering it, treating the coconut shell like Ren Changdong as he struck it with loud, heavy thuds.
“Lawyer Zhang, let’s talk,” Ren Changdong spoke up.
Ignoring him, Zhang Bin pried open the smashed coconut shell, revealing a large expanse of white, plump, and glossy coconut meat. He selected a red-and-white striped straw and slowly punctured the intact flesh, sending coconut juice splashing in all directions.
Afterward, he picked a small blue paper parasol for himself, opened and closed it twice, and slowly inserted it into the coconut meat.
Ren Changdong simply watched Zhang Bin’s hands fiddling with those trivial things. He hadn’t expected a man like Zhang Bin to still spare energy for such minor matters.
“What is there to talk about?” Zhang Bin asked Ren Changdong while sipping his coconut. “With your brilliant command over your subordinates—where one of your men throws his backside at people over a disagreement—how dare I talk to any more of your people? You don’t have a second option left on your hands right now either. If we keep talking, I’m afraid Director Ren will end up sending himself.”
“Xiao He went to find you?” Ren Changdong asked, extremely surprised.
Zhang Bin re-reclined on his chair, while Ren Changdong sat on the chair beside him, facing him. Both men doubted the truth of the other’s words, because neither of them believed that He Chengfeng, who had served as an executive assistant for years, would bypass Ren Changdong and pull off such a stunt.
“Xiao He has a fiancée in his hometown; they’ve been together for eight or nine years. Don’t mess with him, he’s not your kind of person,” Ren Changdong said. “He didn’t climb up to where he is today by relying on that sort of thing.”
Zhang Bin pulled down the bath towel draped over his swim trunks, inviting Ren Changdong to take a real, good look at him.
“Even someone at Li You’s level couldn’t manage to crawl into my bed. What on earth would I want with your assistant? Because he’s old? Because he looks gloomy? Or because he’s an office worker whose backside has gone completely flat from sitting at a desk?”
Zhang Bin felt that being accused of having He Chengfeng crawl into his bed was an insult to him.
Biting on his straw, he pondered whether Ren Changdong truly hadn’t dispatched He Chengfeng, or if his scheme had failed and he was just playing innocent here. As a commercial lawyer, Zhang Bin had seen too many high-capitalist figures like Ren Changdong; not a single one of them was a saint. If even three out of ten sentences from his own clients were true, that was already considered a lot.
Zhang Bin probed the person beside him, “Ren Changdong, in your eyes, am I even human? Do I eat young boys and girls every single night?”
“There are no young girls,” Ren Changdong answered truthfully. “I heard you don’t like women.”
“If I exclusively ate young boys, would I have been able to provoke you? Where on earth is your family keeping creatures like that?” Zhang Bin retorted irritably. “Is it your older nephew who goes looking for men to open hotel rooms with, or is it yourself, a divorcee with a kid?”
Ren Changdong offered no explanation to that.
“Li You is still a kid, he doesn’t know any better. Don’t you know any better?” Ren Changdong asked Zhang Bin.
“Do you rich people treat the Civil Code like a hand-copied newsletter, writing down whatever age you feel like as a ‘child’ whenever you want?” Zhang Bin snapped. “When I was his age, I didn’t have anywhere near this kind of imagination.”
Ren Changdong wasn’t going to argue with Zhang Bin about these childish squabbles.
“Li You bears responsibility, but you aren’t innocent either. If you hadn’t been so casual, would Li You have approached you?”
Zhang Bin looked straight at Ren Changdong.
“Adults going out to play operate on the principle of mutual consent. You have no status or standing to blame me, and you don’t even have the standing to blame Li You.”
Zhang Bin not only repeated the exact words Li You had said, but he also echoed what Ren Changdong himself had said earlier.
“The better people understand the rules, the better they know how to skirt the red lines of law and morality.”
Of course, Ren Changdong agreed with Zhang Bin’s point.
“Ren Changdong, Li You has never had a job, but haven’t you? Don’t you know how important a social image is to an adult man?”
“In comparison, youth and beauty are inexhaustible resources—it’s simply a matter of some people being willing to sell them, and others not.”
“Why would I stake my most important assets—over a decade of accumulated standing—in exchange for a resource that isn’t even scarce? Li You is pretty, but I don’t love him. Is there any need for me to take such a huge risk for his sake?”
Li You had wept and wailed for a month explaining things, yet Ren Changdong hadn’t believed that little sparrow could fool Zhang Bin. But hearing Zhang Bin speak, Ren Changdong felt as though he was about to be convinced.
The moment he realized Zhang Bin could actually persuade him, Ren Changdong began to doubt: could Li You really have hoodwinked someone at Zhang Bin’s level?
Ren Changdong had no desire to act as a judge for the two of them anymore; he only wanted to resolve the issue as quickly as possible. Zhang Bin was right about one thing—Ren Changdong was inherently protective of his own. He had no reason to side with an outsider like Zhang Bin over his own family member. He didn’t care whether Zhang Bin felt wronged or not.
Ren Changdong offered Zhang Bin a way out.
“I won’t cut off your client sources anymore, and I won’t target you. After you return to China, I will provide a sufficiently sincere compensation package to cover your lost wages for this period.”
“Lawyer Zhang, let’s go home.”
Zhang Bin ignored him.
Ren Changdong asked him, “I assume you probably don’t care about Li You’s worries, but surely you have people you actually care about?”
Ren Changdong wasn’t wrong. Zhang Bin didn’t care about strangers, but he truly didn’t want his family and friends to keep worrying about him.
The two men by the pool stood in sharp opposition yet shared an unspoken understanding, looking at each other as if gazing into a mirror.
Zhang Bin took a big sip of coconut water. He knew very well in his heart that if any man dared to open a hotel room with an eighteen-year-old kid from his own family, his own methods would only be far more extreme than Ren Changdong’s.
“I’ll have Xiao He book tomorrow’s flights. Are you free tomorrow morning, or afternoon?” Ren Changdong seized the opportunity to press on.
“Who agreed to it?” Zhang Bin countered.
Zhang Bin respecting Ren Changdong’s methods was one thing, but his deep annoyance toward Ren Changdong was another. The two matters were entirely separate.
“Director Ren, you’re clearly a clever businessman, so why didn’t you keep a single trump card in your hand when dealing with me? If you had suppressed me with that set of ‘indecent photos’, would you be in such a passive position right now?”
“True,” Ren Changdong conceded.
“However, I had no knowledge of your photos.” Ren Changdong stated honestly.
“You haven’t seen them?” Zhang Bin asked.
“No.”
Seeing how furious Zhang Bin was, Ren Changdong figured the photos must have been quite explicit.
“Are they fully exposed? Even if they are, it wouldn’t be easy to spread them around.”
“Stop prying.” Zhang Bin refused to discuss the details with him.
“Bastard.” Zhang Bin spat out the word.
Ren Changdong looked at the man in disbelief. He had never heard such an ugly word in his entire life, and an unfamiliar, burning sensation crept upward from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head.
Zhang Bin abandoned Ren Changdong once more and walked away.
Ren Changdong lingered for a moment before chasing after him, but as he stood up, he felt as though he had stepped right into a thick fog.
Unwilling to show any cowardice in front of Zhang Bin, Ren Changdong forced himself not to look at the water, keeping his eyes strictly fixed on the back in front of him.
He watched water droplets slide down the tips of Zhang Bin’s hair, forcing his gaze downward as the drops trailed along Zhang Bin’s spinal groove, all the way down to that pair of legs that were irritatingly striking.
Further down were his prominent Achilles tendons—the man had long limbs and long tendons, wearing a pair of thin-soled slippers on his feet.
With every step, the slippers slapped against the ground, splashing droplets of water. Ren Changdong tried to avert his eyes the entire way, only to realize that avoidance was ultimately impossible; there was simply far too much water around.
Ren Changdong tried walking a couple of steps with his eyes closed, but he couldn’t maintain his balance. The moment he opened his eyes, he saw Zhang Bin move his foot and give a gentle kick, sending a dusty-pink floating mat that was blocking the path sliding into the water.
As the float hit the water, splash, the surface erupted, and the body of water began to churn. The transparent blue-green water began to turn red in Ren Changdong’s eyes, and gradually, the nearly hundred-square-meter pool changed its entire color.
Ren Changdong’s legs went weak, and out of sheer instinct, he reached out and grabbed the person in front of him for help. Startled by the sudden yank, Zhang Bin instinctively flung his arm outward.
Feeling a chill hit his body as a large splash of water hit him, Zhang Bin didn’t process what was happening for a second. He looked back at the now-calm pool, then down at his own arm. In those eyes usually filled with schemes and calculation, there was a rare, complete blankness.
Unsure whether Ren Changdong had drowned—since someone who couldn’t swim would normally struggle instinctively upon falling in, yet the pool was deathly quiet—Zhang Bin stood at the edge for a moment. Hesitating briefly, he jumped into the water anyway; he didn’t dare gamble someone’s life out of petty spite.
Down in the water, Zhang Bin truly saw Ren Changdong. Ren Changdong was terrifyingly still, with no struggling and no sign of pain. The blue water enveloped his body like amniotic fluid wrapping around an unborn child. He was quiet, making no fuss at the threshold between life and death.
That was when real panic set in for Zhang Bin. He felt deeply irritated: how was it that the nephew touched porcelain to extort him out of his innocence, and now the uncle popped up to saddle him with a human life?
Not a single member of this family knew how to give people peace of mind.
Zhang Bin swam with all his might toward this damned capitalist. Diving to the bottom, he clamped his arm around Ren Changdong’s waist. The moment he touched the heavy, substantial body, Zhang Bin instantly realized that Ren Changdong was, after all, a flesh-and-blood human being. Panic suddenly gripped Zhang Bin, throwing off his breathing rhythm; he choked on the water and spat out a string of bubbles.
Dragging Ren Changdong upward, Zhang Bin made sure his face stayed above the water’s surface. He hauled Ren Changdong toward the edge, and the moment they hit the wall, he began to gasp heavily for air.
Flipping over in the water, Zhang Bin hugged Ren Changdong face-to-face like holding a child, gripping the edge of the pool with one hand while supporting Ren Changdong’s thigh with the other.
To leverage his strength, Zhang Bin shoved forward slightly, pressing Ren Changdong’s back against the tiles at the pool’s edge. He raised a hand and patted Ren Changdong’s face, but got zero reaction.
Zhang Bin pressed his wet nose against the carotid artery on the side of Ren Changdong’s neck to check if he was dead or alive. Fortunately, the man was still breathing—or rather, not dead yet.
With all his strength, he hoisted Ren Changdong upward. Out of the water, Ren Changdong’s body became heavy; the muscles in Zhang Bin’s arms strained, and his veins bulged. With an astonishing burst of explosive power, he dragged a man taller and heavier than himself right up onto the deck.
Making sure Ren Changdong was lying flat, Zhang Bin hoisted himself out of the pool. Water cascaded off his body with a loud splash, and a wave of soreness immediately shot through both of his arms.
Tearing open Ren Changdong’s collar and turning his head to the side, Zhang Bin began trying to clear his throat, but Ren Changdong still didn’t move. Zhang Bin slapped him across the face, but the man didn’t wake up.
“Useless landlubber.”
Pinching Ren Changdong’s nose shut, Zhang Bin covered Ren Changdong’s lips with his own and blew air into his mouth, helping him recover his breath. He sat up, pressed down on Ren Changdong’s chest with all his might, and then gave rescue breaths again, repeating the cycle continuously.
Zhang Bin felt as though time had been stretched thin like a spring about to lose its elasticity. He didn’t dare stop, fearing that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to muster the strength again.
After a long while, Zhang Bin finally waited for Ren Changdong to erupt into a violent fit of coughing. Ren Changdong’s entire chest heaved violently, his back arching as he endured the agonizing pain radiating from his lungs. Water stains covered his entire face.
The body that was usually locked away in stiff, old-fashioned three-piece suits now completely lacked any semblance of decorum.
His white shirt clung damply to his skin, making his flesh faintly visible underneath, while his suit trousers tightly outlined the curves of his hips and thighs. Even the subtle contour of his shirt stays was left with nowhere to hide. This sturdy, solid body of his crashed brazenly into view.
Having suffered both the cold and a severe fright, his usual obnoxious demeanor had dissolved into a puddle of damp, chaotic wreckage. An untimely urge for destruction deep within Zhang Bin’s bones flared up at this moment, startling even himself.
“Stop panting like a shameless ghost.”
Zhang Bin tossed a bath towel from the edge onto Ren Changdong. As the wave of tension receded, the soreness in Zhang Bin’s arms caught up with him, but he refused to show any weakness in front of Ren Changdong.
Neither of them got up. Zhang Bin sat while Ren Changdong lay on the ground. Zhang Bin looked down at the man on the floor, telling him to stop gasping for air while his own eyes refused to wander away.
Ren Changdong’s lungs hurt intensely. He crossed his arms over his chest, though his arms couldn’t fully shield the heaving expanse beneath.
Averting his gaze, Zhang Bin suddenly became unusually talkative.
“You came all this way—after doing a wedding photoshoot, are you filming a Taiwanese idol drama now? Even if we were really shooting an idol drama, you ought to be the one jumping in to pull people out. Do you have any basic qualifications of a CEO at all?”
“Your family isn’t even newly rich; didn’t they teach you how to swim when training you as an heir…?”
Ren Changdong couldn’t process whatever Zhang Bin was barking about. Zhang Bin pulled him up into a sitting position, telling him to stop tightening his body up in such an unashamed manner.
With Ren Changdong completely drained of strength, the lofty CEO’s head slumped directly onto Zhang Bin’s shoulder. Looking at him, Zhang Bin thought he resembled a flower in full, vibrant bloom that had unfortunately been beaten to pieces by a sudden rainstorm.
That was when Zhang Bin finally realized something.
“You’re this terrified of water?”
Not daring to move an inch, Zhang Bin asked tentatively.
“Mn.”
“CEOs really have all sorts of weird issues. Do you also easily get stomach aches and are allergic to women?”
“Mn.”
Not realizing Zhang Bin was joking, Ren Changdong assumed Zhang Bin was once again hurling malicious insults to pick at his raw nerves. He felt that Zhang Bin shouldn’t mock someone else’s medical condition.
“This isn’t some self-torture bitter-pity trick, is it?” Zhang Bin asked again.
Ren Changdong shook his head slightly against Zhang Bin’s collarbone.
Thinking about it, Zhang Bin figured Ren Changdong wouldn’t take such a reckless gamble; his life wasn’t that worthless.
Catching his breath, Ren Changdong tried to find a precise word to describe Zhang Bin: “You… still possess a conscience.”
“Do you believe I’ll push you back in?” Zhang Bin asked him.
With a sudden shove, Zhang Bin pushed Ren Changdong backward. Terrified out of his wits, Ren Changdong frantically grabbed onto the person in front of him, causing a sharp pain to shoot across Zhang Bin’s back.
“Stop getting so handsy,” Zhang Bin gasped, drawing in a sharp breath. “Your family has a tradition of extorting people. Don’t be unseemly yourself and then try to turn things around to frame others.”
“Who’s extorting you?” Ren Changdong asked Zhang Bin. “Didn’t you buy Li You an ice cream? You knew full well he had a crush on you, yet you still let him misunderstand.”
Both adults were well aware that failing to give a thorough, absolute rejection to a kid was a form of irresponsibility.
“Do you really think he’s never seen an ice cream before?”
Zhang Bin was exasperated. What game was this Ren Changdong playing, acting so clueless? What kind of nonsense had that damned kid Li You been spinning?
“Then what could he possibly want from you? There’s no shortage of good-looking men out there,” Ren Changdong threw Zhang Bin’s own words back at him. “Youth and beauty are inexhaustible resources; could he really be after just that?”
Li You hadn’t explained it himself, and Zhang Bin didn’t care to elaborate either. Zhang Bin had gone through puberty too, and he knew what it was like to harbor secrets you felt would ruin your world if they ever came to light. He didn’t think it was necessary to sell out a kid’s secret just to save his own skin; youth was too fragile to bear such heavy baggage.
Zhang Bin grabbed Ren Changdong’s hair, forcing him to tilt his head back. Ren Changdong’s fragile Adam’s apple and the veins on his neck were fully exposed, right where Zhang Bin’s heavy, ragged breaths could land.
Zhang Bin carefully scrutinized the face right in front of him. Both Ren Changdong and Li You had low-set brows over their eyes and a somewhat Eurasian look, though their temperaments were worlds apart. Ren Changdong’s face, however, looked infinitely more in need of some discipline.
Of course, Zhang Bin knew very well what Li You was after.
“If it weren’t for me, your little nephew would have been played to ruins by now. You ungrateful wretch, you didn’t even send me a commemorative banner, and instead you exiled me to this place crawling with wild ‘Fridays’. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I had a decent glass of wine?”
At that exact moment, Zhang Bin only felt thirsty.