By the floor-to-ceiling window.
The night outside shimmered with a quiet intimacy, punctuated by ragged, heated breaths.
A man’s broad back pressed against the glass, holding a restless girl in his arms.
The gray-white sheer curtains swayed, brushing against his black trousers. Her white blouse had been undone recklessly by the girl in front of him, whose gaze was soft yet intoxicating. The fabric hung loosely, threatening to slip off completely.
His toned abs and sharp collarbones were revealed, a silent declaration of a passion that could no longer be restrained.
Qin Sang clutched Sheng Yu’s lean, strong waist, her delicate fingers teasing along his hips, igniting sparks of desire.
As she tilted her head to brush her lips against his throat, Sheng Yu’s instincts flared. He gripped her shoulders, forcing some distance between them, his voice hoarse but controlled:
“Qin… be good. Don’t—”
Before he could finish, Qin Sang lifted her face, a soft, teasing smile playing on her lips. Ignoring his warning, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss onto his mouth.
Sheng Yu’s breath faltered, his hands gripping her slender waist to stop her: “Baby, you’re drunk… behave.”
“I’m not drunk,” she whispered, lashes fluttering, her slightly tipsy voice soft and teasing. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
She tilted her head back, smiling coyly: “You asked me what I wanted for Christmas, didn’t you?”
Rising onto her toes, her warm breath brushed his ear, stirring something primal: “I want you… I want to be with you… endlessly…”
Click.
The hidden clasp of his belt gave way. Her tender, lingering kisses traced the line of his throat down to his lips, and amid the sweet, clumsy intimacy, she managed to loosen his belt.
It was the final spark that shattered Sheng Yu’s restraint. With a swift, commanding motion, he spun her against the window, claiming her completely.
“Mm!”
His scorching kiss engulfed her inch by inch. Clothes fell to the floor, and her soft moans filled his ears, teasing and enticing him.
“Third brother? Third brother?”
“Huh?! Sheng Ye?!”
“Holy—how can you sleep with all this noise?!”
Half-awake, in the upper-level private section of a bar.
Among a group of wealthy young men, Ou Zhecheng, in a silver-gray shirt, frowned in frustration at Sheng Yu, who remained silent and unresponsive. After a few calls, he reached to tap him, only to have his hand suddenly seized, his arm nearly twisted off.
“Ahhh!! Shit! Ow! Are you trying to kill me?!”
Ou Zhecheng grimaced in pain, locking eyes with a sharp, icy gaze, while a cold, impatient voice sliced through the air:
“Disappointing.”
Sheng Yu, disturbed from his rare moments of rest, let a sliver of cold light flash in his eyes before lazily releasing him.
Relieved, Ou Zhecheng massaged his arm, teeth gritted in indignation: “Third brother, you’re a monster! You almost crippled me!”
Across the table, Ye Huai laughed, pouring him a drink: “Our third brother hasn’t slept in twenty-six hours. He just wanted a nap, and you had to disturb him. Couldn’t you expect him to retaliate?”
Ou Zhecheng protested, “He was asleep? And still managed to grab me so precisely? Fake sleep?”
Wen Beizhuo, pouring his own drink, chimed in with a grin: “He doesn’t need to be awake. Even dead, he could scare you—cough!”
Bang.
Sheng Yu lazily lifted his eyelids, kicked the table, grazing Wen Beizhuo’s leg, his voice tinged with exhaustion and threat: “Looking for trouble?”
Unfazed despite nearly spilling his drink, Wen Beizhuo arched a brow and teased: “You just won an international lawsuit that media experts didn’t give you a chance at. How come you don’t even look excited?”
A faint shadow of melancholy crossed Sheng Yu’s eyes. His fingers idly toyed with the jade-black ring on his thumb, carved with a fierce beast motif.
Today, his aviation company, under the power of the Sheng Group, had won a major international lawsuit. His circle of friends had gathered to celebrate—a room full of people with influence and power in various fields.
Despite the triumph, he felt only exhaustion and the gnawing ache of loneliness.
Sheng Yu never enjoyed celebrations after a project’s success. He preferred being buried in work, leaving no time to dwell on anything else. Once the chaos stopped, the emptiness and longing hit him like a hidden wound, gnawing at him incessantly.
“Third brother hasn’t been congratulated for landing the new international route,” Ou Zhecheng said, raising his glass sincerely. “Sheng Ye, you’re incredible.”
Sheng Yu’s expression remained unreadable. Rarely drinking, he picked up a glass of ice water, tapped it lightly against Ou Zhecheng’s, and drank.
Ou Zhecheng chuckled, teasing: “This route crosses the United States. You think we could ship some explosives, make the plane go down right over them, and wipe those bastards out?”
The table erupted in laughter.
Sheng Yu, bored, muttered a few words and excused himself: “I’m tired. I’m heading out. Drinks on me. You all can continue.”
Ye Huai, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses, stood: “I’ll head out too. Another time.”
Ye Huai ran the Sheng Group’s legal department—a formidable lawyer and Sheng Yu’s trusted brother in arms.
Downstairs, the bar throbbed with music and neon lights, decadent and chaotic.
The upper-level was exclusive, requiring clearance to enter. On the first floor, Sheng Yu’s mere presence drew polite greetings, yet no one could approach him closely.
Ye Huai, following at his side, glanced at his phone and smiled: “Qi Rang sent word. Thanks to our leads, they finally captured the drug lord who had been on the run for years. He even got promoted in the police force and said he wants to meet you.”
Sheng Yu’s expression remained cold: “The leads were detailed. If they can’t catch him, he can quit.”
Ye Huai deleted the message, slipping his phone into his pocket: “Luckily, you found out about his drug operations. It caused chaos for them—otherwise, this international lawsuit would’ve been far harder. And it gave Qi Rang a promotion.”
Sheng Yu’s tone was mechanical: “Good work. Take a few days off and rest.”
Giving Qi Rang the opportunity wasn’t charity. It was practical—solve the problem effortlessly while letting someone else rise. Sheng Yu was always a master at maximizing benefits for himself.
In just five years, he had climbed to the top of his world, commanding loyalty with his ruthless, cold precision.
But Ye Huai, noticing the emptiness in Sheng Yu’s eyes, frowned. He knew the man’s lack of joy could only be caused by one person.
Testing the waters, he asked: “Thinking of Qin Sang?”
He added teasingly: “After all these years, only she could make you like this.”
Sheng Yu’s lips curved coldly: “Thinking of her? Hah. She left without reason. She has no right to my heart.”
Ye Huai shook his head: “Why even bother? Now—”
Sheng Yu abruptly stopped, as if he heard something. His gaze fixed on one direction, a mix of shock and hesitation flickering in his eyes amid the thumping music and flashing lights.
Following his line of sight, Ye Huai’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Amid the chaotic, indulgent crowd, he saw a familiar figure, coughing from spilled drink.
It was Qin Sang—the girl who had been like a forbidden thought for the past five years.