Chu Yanyi sat on the soft sofa flipping through documents, sunlight falling across his defined brow and eyes, making one feel not just his good looks at first glance, but an unexpected warmth and approachability.
He wore simple, casual attire, a plain wristwatch adorning his exposed wrist, his posture relaxed yet far from languid. The servants coming and going through the room stole subtle glances at him.
Who wouldn’t be curious about what kind of master would elevate a slave to such a degree?
Moreover, rumor had it that this slave had once served another prominent figure.
The door lock clicked open. He raised his head, eyeing the man stepping out of the dressing room. Because his right hand was inconvenient, the man hadn’t fastened all the buttons, large and small, revealing a patch of fair chest.
Whether it was due to sharing meals occasionally with Chu Yanyi during this period and being indirectly fed plenty of tonics, Chu Yanyi felt the Alpha’s physique looked slightly better than before.
At the very least, he was no longer a mere bag of bones.
Dusk had yet to fall, and the wind blowing through the floor-to-ceiling window carried a chill, along with the earthy fragrance of a sunny day after snow.
Chu Yanyi raised an eyebrow, and the designer alongside several servants stepped forward to help Zhou Yi dress.
Zhou Yi kept his eyes dropped, allowing them to adjust his attire, only shrinking back slightly when someone touched the brand on his neck.
The designer turned around, frowning slightly: “Mr. Chu, since you are going out, wouldn’t it be better to cover this spot with something?”
“Mm? Let me see.” Chu Yanyi removed his earpiece, stood up, and tapped his cane lightly against the carpet. Walking up to Zhou Yi, he raised his hand to adjust his collar, his fingers brushing imperceptibly past that uneven, jagged brand.
Zhou Yi never raised his head from start to finish, yet his spine straightened involuntarily.
Chu Yanyi walked a circle around Zhou Yi, then turned toward the full-length mirror, inspecting the man reflected within. The suit—hand-tailored by weavers from the Empire’s finest brand, Yunhen—flawlessly outlined the man’s shoulder and waistlines, carrying a touch of the impression lingering in Chu Yanyi’s memory.
Yet it felt as though something was missing.
Standing behind Zhou Yi, Chu Yanyi’s gaze rested on that jarring patch of black, his tone gentle: “I think covering it or not is fine. It depends on you; cover it if you wish.”
“…”
Zhou Yi clenched his hands, stealing a glance at Chu Yanyi in the mirror before nodding lightly.
Chu Yanyi smiled: “I should have suitable items here; if not, we can buy another.”
He personally held limited interest in accessories like rings and earrings, but that didn’t stop him from purchasing some for social and various other reasons. Now, looking closely at those brought to the manor from outside, there were quite a few.
Watching the several people bustling back and forth, he set his coffee aside and tapped his knuckles against the tea table. Zhou Yi instantly halted his fingers, which were in the middle of loosening his bow tie.
“Which one do you like?”
The question lacked context, yet everyone present knew who he was asking.
Zhou Yi froze for a second, then blinked at Chu Yanyi. Taking a stride with his long legs, he passed several servants and picked up a box from the other side, inside of which lay an unopened collar.
In truth, Chu Yanyi couldn’t even remember when he had purchased this collar—perhaps at some niche auction, or as a small gift sent by a brand. The black leather was reportedly sourced from a rare star beast, the rivets crafted from Desert Planet θ’s native rare metal, while a translucent green gem hung from the dangling chain.
A remarkably traditional design.
Holding the gift box, he met Chu Yanyi’s eyes in the mirror. Chu Yanyi’s lips curved into a smile, his eyes carrying an affectionate warmth that made it impossible to distinguish truth from pretense.
Pinching a corner of the box, Zhou Yi turned around without handing it to the nearby stylist. His eyes shone crystal clear under the lights, like a gleaming gem.
“Try it on if you like it.” Chu Yanyi raised his bone china cup, concealing the curve at the corners of his mouth.
Zhou Yi used his left hand to awkwardly unbuckle the clasp, trying to fit it around his neck. Refusing help from others, his face turned completely red from the struggle, yet he still couldn’t put it on.
“Let me put it on for you.” Chu Yanyi let out a sigh, gestured for the servants to step back, and stood up to take the collar.
The moment the leather touched the brand, Zhou Yi couldn’t help but shiver.
“Don’t move around.” Chu Yanyi’s voice was steady. He calmly fastened the buckle for Zhou Yi, his knuckles lingering against the skin on the back of Zhou Yi’s neck—the location of the Alpha gland.
Zhou Yi didn’t dare move at all. Enveloping him was Chu Yanyi’s crisp cologne scent blended with lingering Alpha pheromones—a rich iris fragrance. Staring at the tips of Chu Yanyi’s leather shoes, his Adam’s apple bobbed twice.
The iris scent suddenly thinned as Chu Yanyi’s voice landed neither heavily nor lightly beside his ear: “It suits you well. But do you want to swap the gem for the one you usually wear?”
Zhou Yi froze, realizing what Chu Yanyi was referring to. Chu Yanyi had never mentioned his habit of hanging the key around his neck; he had assumed Chu Yanyi hadn’t noticed at all.
“It might be too late for that now though, so let me just leave it as is for now.” Chu Yanyi patted Zhou Yi’s shoulder, turning him back to face the full-length mirror, letting out a breath as if slightly fatigued. “Mm, it looks decent. Remember to return the collar to me when we’re done.”
Inevitably, Zhou Yi met his own eyes in the mirror—numb, glamorous, devoid of self.
The next second, he saw his reflection smile as that man spoke: “See that? Chu Yanyi has no interest in you; he doesn’t like playthings that lack a challenge.”
A clothes rack crashed to the floor with a loud rattle, precious gems swaying continuously. Chu Yanyi grabbed Zhou Yi’s arm and yanked him back. Everyone in the room halted their tasks, their eyes landing on the shattered full-length mirror smashed to pieces due to a loose bracket.
Chu Yanyi narrowed his eyes. The stylist hurriedly explained: “Perhaps we failed to notice when bringing it over, accidentally bumping something…”
“Clean it up.” Chu Yanyi released his grip, looking at the shaken Zhou Yi: “Are you hurt?”
Zhou Yi gasped heavily, his eyelashes lowered, nodding his head with a pale face.
“It’s good that you’re fine. You’re tired after all this time; go change your clothes. You don’t need to come to the study today, and it’s a good time to get your hair dyed.” Chu Yanyi tidied his sleeves, and a servant stepped forward holding Zhou Yi’s own clothes.
Perhaps because the trousers pocket was too shallow, a colorful candy box dropped by Chu Yanyi’s feet alongside his movements.
Before Chu Yanyi could speak, following a series of clattering impacts, Zhou Yi crouched down swiftly, picked up the candy box, and tucked it behind his back.
The movement was as agile as an animal protecting its food. Amused, Chu Yanyi tapped Zhou Yi’s shin with his cane: “Rest assured, no one here is competing with you for it.”
With that, he walked outside leaning on his cane, nodding to Housekeeper Mo to the side: “Chen Ke will be coming over today; add one more person for dinner.”
The weather was clear and crisp as birds skimmed across the sky, the horizon swallowing the setting sun bit by bit. Distant figures gradually gathered near the foot of the mountain; standing by the window, Chu Yanyi anticipated that once spring arrived and all things revived, this place might become even more lively.
Just earlier in the study, he had spent some time looking at the picture books Zhou Yi usually read—naive plots paired with crude artwork, leaving him wondering how Zhou Yi could spend so much time reading them.
Or perhaps Zhou Yi hadn’t been reading them at all…
A series of hurried knocks interrupted his thoughts. Chu Yanyi turned around to find Chen Ke poking his head through the doorway, clutching a bag of documents.
He looked noticeably darker and somewhat thinner, his entire persona radiating the resentment of returning to work after a vacation.
“These files haven’t passed through anyone else’s hands; I monitored them personally from start to finish on Planet Blue.” Chen Ke handed over the files, reporting mechanically: “The item you’re looking for is at the Empire’s largest auction house. Greetings have already been extended, and I’ll go transport it over in a few days…”
Chu Yanyi took the files, scanning the airtight wax seal on top; Imperial nobles truly remained stubbornly attached to such outdated traditions.
Listening, he nodded casually while using a letter opener to slice open the top of the document bag. Confirming the inner seal was intact, he dumped the contents onto the table all at once.
Various identification documents scattered across the table. Chu Yanyi picked one up casually and opened it; Zhou Yi remained that same Zhou Yi, though Chu Yanyi found the expressionless look in the photo somewhat unaccustomed.
“Not much different from the forged ones.” Chu Yanyi opened another document bag delivered two days prior, inside of which lay several identical documents neatly stacked.
Chen Ke hesitated repeatedly before asking: “Mr. Chu, you’re taking so much care this time, even getting new Imperial identification issued for him—is it simply because he and Ying Yu once… had a history? Setting all else aside, he is an Alpha.”
Chu Yanyi stroked the chip on top indifferently: “Did Xiao Qi ask you to inquire?”
“How could that be…” Chen Ke coughed. “Although I was on leave, I heard plenty of rumors.”
“You know they’re rumors too. Rumors also claimed that the last time you sprained your ankle at my place, you were subjected to unspoken rules by me for three days and three nights, unable to get out of bed.”
“…”
Chu Yanyi raised his hand, gesturing for Chen Ke to organize the identification documents on the table. As Chen Ke resignedly sorted the documents and forms into categories, a sheet covered in handwriting appeared before his eyes.
Realizing what was written on it, Chen Ke felt his scalp go numb for a moment.
A news report copied in his own handwriting.
Yet Chen Ke was certain he had never written it.
“This is?” He swallowed hard, asking softly.
“Written by Zhou Yi. I had him try imitating your handwriting.” Chu Yanyi raised an eyebrow. “Ying Yu indeed wouldn’t keep useless people by his side.”
“Could the person who forged the document be…”
“Unclear, though I heard the Second District has been quite lively lately.” Chu Yanyi stared at the hourglass on the table, the golden sand reflected in his blue pupils displaying a peculiar shade of green.
“Ying Yu is a traditional person as well. Since he was willing to leave a suicide note for me, tell me, could he have left another suicide note for someone else? For instance, his closest Alpha?”
“Go tell Xiao Qi to focus on recovering and enjoying her romance in the Federation; I have my own boundaries.” Chu Yanyi concluded the conversation with a smile, rising to his feet leaning on his cane.
“…Understood.” Chen Ke followed Chu Yanyi’s pace. “Where are you heading? May I come along?”
Chu Yanyi pulled a few new picture books from the bookshelf, tossed them onto the sofa, and looked at Chen Ke as if observing an unfathomable creature: “To have dinner. If you want to go hungry, feel free; Old Jin keeps asking when you’re coming over—he wants to show off his cooking skills to you.”
“Ah? Old Jin? You’re letting him be the chef? Mr. Chu, you truly are… creative.”
“Didn’t he say in the past that he’d rather work in a kitchen than go to the battlefield?” The corners of Chu Yanyi’s lips curled up, as if recalling past anecdotes.
Seeing this, Chen Ke laughed unabashedly as well: “Then I must let him serve me properly.”
Beaming, he trotted ahead to open the door for Chu Yanyi, only for the smile to freeze on his face instantly. Zhou Yi stood dazed at the doorway, his arm slightly raised as if he had just been about to knock.
The instant their eyes met, the black-haired man’s gaze turned razor-sharp, causing Chen Ke to shiver slightly.
When he looked up again, the man had already lowered his eyes, turning his body slightly into a thoroughly harmless posture.
It was as though the eye contact just now had been a mere illusion.