Ji Zhi paused for a moment, remembering how he had changed clothes in front of Duan Zhao before when they bought the suit.
But as he actually started changing now, Ji Zhi realized just how different this was.
He had previously thought the backseat of the luxury sedan was spacious, but now it felt inexplicably cramped while he was trying to dress.
Duan Zhao said nothing more, and Ji Zhi had initially been relieved by his silence. Now, however, he sensed something odd in the atmosphere.
The air seemed to freeze solid, leaving only the faint rustle of fabric and their mingled, restrained breaths.
Duan Zhao sat nearby, his body leaning slightly back into the leather seat with his legs crossed. His iron-gray suit fit him perfectly, accentuating steady, powerfully sculpted lines. The gaze behind his gold-rimmed glasses wasn’t deliberately fixed anywhere, yet it fell on Ji Zhi—who was changing—with a tangible weight.
Ji Zhi felt it too and grew a bit embarrassed, so he turned sideways.
Even with his back to Duan Zhao, though, Ji Zhi could clearly sense that gaze, like a warm, searing tendril brushing over his skin.
He could only hurry up. Keeping his head slightly lowered, Ji Zhi hastily stripped off his clothes, eager to finish as quickly as possible.
The car’s interior was dimly lit, with light coming only from the passing neon signs outside and the occasional streetlamp.
Duan Zhao, however, could still see everything inside the car perfectly clearly.
Perhaps because he thought the suit pants would be the easiest, Ji Zhi started with those.
As he changed them, the fabric made sharp rustling sounds that stood out sharply in the quiet space.
In the instant the old pants slid down, a blindingly pale expanse burst into Duan Zhao’s view—Ji Zhi’s straight legs, plump with a touch of softness. Skin rarely exposed to sunlight gleamed almost dazzlingly in the dim light. The full curves of his thighs traced supple lines between tension and release, tightening slightly with his flustered movements and revealing an unguarded, almost fragile allure.
Ji Zhi clearly realized that this intensely private part of him was exposed to another’s eyes. A flush of shame spread across his entire body, from the back of his neck all the way to the slightly fleshy base of his thighs. He fumbled frantically to cover himself with the new pants, but his haste only made it worse—they got tangled at his ankles. Instinctively, he tensed his legs and bent down; the plump flesh of his thighs quivered lightly. Fortunately, he managed to pull them on.
Soon, Ji Zhi began changing his shirt.
In the dim light, the pale skin of his back resembled warm jade, his shoulder blades rising and falling subtly with his movements. His black hair had grown a bit longer since their last meeting, just brushing past his ears and lying neatly against his slender neck. That stretch of neck stood out strikingly white against the colorful night lights streaming through the car window.
He was now putting on the suit jacket.
Ji Zhi’s dark eyes were downcast, his long lashes trembling violently as he tried to block out the overwhelmingly intense presence beside him. Yet he couldn’t ignore the intangible pressure that seemed ready to swallow him whole.
His movements grew clumsy from nerves and the limited space. The more he rushed, the more he fumbled. When his fingertips tried to fasten the new shirt’s buttons, they wouldn’t cooperate. Only after securing them did he notice one was in the wrong hole, throwing all the rest off too.
In the past, Ji Zhi could have just thrown on an outer jacket and called it good enough.
But this was an important occasion, so he had no choice but to undo them.
Just then, a hand with prominent knuckles reached over. Its warm fingertips brushed innocently against the ones Ji Zhi was using to button up. The touch was so sudden that Ji Zhi’s body jolted instinctively. Then he realized it was Duan Zhao in the car.
Ji Zhi voiced his confusion. “Mr. Duan?”
“Don’t be nervous,” Duan Zhao said, his low voice rumbling from extremely close by, mingled with warm breath that grazed Ji Zhi’s sensitive earlobe.
Ji Zhi could almost smell the crisp cedar scent on him, mixed with the faint wool of his high-end suit—it enveloped him completely. He turned his head stiffly and immediately met those deep eyes mere inches away. The cold glint of the gold-rimmed glasses had softened somewhat, and behind the lenses lay a profound amusement, unmistakable and utterly in control.
The hand didn’t withdraw. Instead, taking advantage of the position, it slowly and expertly fastened the button that had eluded Ji Zhi for so long.
But as the hand left the button, Ji Zhi felt Duan Zhao’s fingertip—whether intentionally or not—graze the skin below his Adam’s apple, sending a faint shiver across it.
His shoulders tensed instantly. He wanted to say something, but Duan Zhao had already pulled back.
Fortunately, Ji Zhi only had the suit jacket left. He threw it on in a fluster, and his tension finally began to ebb.
Once Ji Zhi was dressed, Duan Zhao’s voice sounded right on cue. “It fits well.”
“How’s your studying and dorm life been lately?”
Relieved by the change of topic, Ji Zhi let out a breath in his mind and went along with it. “The coursework has gotten tougher recently, but it’s still manageable.”
“As for the dorm… it’s basically just me living there. I don’t see Fu Huixu much.”
Duan Zhao: “That’s good.”
Ji Zhi could tell from his tone that Duan Zhao was satisfied with the answer—especially the last part.
And just as Ji Zhi had suspected, Duan Zhao took this chance to bring up moving out again.
This time, he listed even more benefits than before. Though Ji Zhi felt a subtle temptation, the thought of the potential trouble after moving in made him firmly suppress it.
As the scenery outside shifted several times, the car finally reached its destination.
The banquet was held at a grand white mansion.
They arrived neither too early nor too late; the parking lot was already filled with quite a few cars, and more guests were steadily getting out of theirs.
Peering through the window, Ji Zhi caught sight of a figure heading into the villa.
He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but in that fleeting glimpse, the silhouette seemed strangely familiar.
Odd… it felt like he’d seen this person somewhere before…
But before he could dwell on it, the driver had already politely opened the door for them.
He’d been fine in the car, but the moment Ji Zhi stepped out, his nerves came rushing back.
Especially when someone greeted Duan Zhao directly in the parking lot, their gaze landing straight on Ji Zhi.
Sensing the probing look, Ji Zhi’s heart tightened.
The man didn’t ask any questions, though. He just smiled, exchanged greetings with Ji Zhi, chatted briefly with Duan Zhao, and then left.
Ji Zhi looked at Duan Zhao in puzzlement. He hadn’t even asked, but Duan Zhao seemed to understand and quickly explained. “They won’t inquire about our relationship.”
“Bringing you here puts us in their eyes as close already.”
People at these banquets usually brought either heirs, lovers, or mistresses, so no one pried further.
Ji Zhi: !!!
Just as Duan Zhao said, as they walked toward the mansion, plenty of people greeted them both—but as if sharing a tacit understanding, none asked about their relationship.
Duan Zhao had been here a few times before, so he declined the host’s and attendants’ guidance and led Ji Zhi straight to the main banquet hall.
The hall featured floor-to-ceiling windows along one wall. Looking out, one could see the meticulously tended gardens and an endless lake view. The lake mirrored the mansion’s lights, rippling like stars fallen into water.
Inside, the lighting was bright yet soft, with crystal chandeliers casting dazzling refractions. The air carried the strains of a live band’s elegant music, the crisp scent of fine champagne, and a faint trace of cigar smoke.
The guests were impeccably dressed, conversing in low tones with refined poise, exuding the polish and sophistication of high society everywhere.
Though the banquet hadn’t officially started, Duan Zhao spotted Lan Yu and led Ji Zhi over to say hello.
Lan Yu was nearing seventy, his hair streaked with white, but he looked hale and hearty. Beside him stood a young man who resembled him somewhat but was about Ji Zhi’s age—Ji Zhi guessed it was his grandson.
As they approached, the young man called Lan Yu “Grandpa,” confirming Ji Zhi’s hunch.
Though Duan Zhao had never dealt with Lan Yu before, he quickly deduced that the old man bringing his grandson to this banquet after so long must be to pave the way for him before going abroad.
From his brief investigation, Duan Zhao knew the grandson wanted to make it big domestically, so Lan Yu was here networking.
Duan Zhao cleverly used the grandson as his entry point, immediately piquing Lan Yu’s interest.
Ji Zhi had lost his high school idolization of Duan Zhao after learning he was the top student, but watching him now converse effortlessly with Lan Yu—who was decades his senior—still stirred genuine admiration in his heart.
Lan Yu was past the age of chasing fame and fortune. If not for his disappointing grandson, he wouldn’t bother showing up at events like this. Plenty of people came over to exchange pleasantries, but Lan Yu noticed their awkward expressions when they glanced at his grandson.
Though he knew the boy’s potential was average, Lan Yu’s protective instincts toward his grandson made him resent their attitudes all the same.
Until Duan Zhao appeared.
Lan Yu naturally knew of Duan Zhao’s reputation—his own grandson was always yammering about starting a business and becoming the next Duan Zhao.
He was puzzled why Duan Zhao, a stranger, would approach them, but hearing him bring up his grandson voluntarily made Lan Yu more patient.
In the course of their talk, even Lan Yu’s previously silent grandson joined in. “Mr. Duan, I’ve actually had this business idea for a while. You might be interested…”
Lan Yu shot his grandson a frustrated look—hating that the boy fell short of his expectations. He’d drilled subtlety into him endlessly, but clearly to no avail.
Lan Yu turned back to Duan Zhao. “Sorry about that, Mr. Duan. He’s just too eager.”
Duan Zhao smiled. “No problem. I actually think it’s great—entrepreneurship needs that kind of youthful energy.”
Praised by someone akin to an idol, Lan Yu’s grandson clearly took the words to heart. He immediately shot a smug glance at Lan Yu. “Grandpa, see? I told you.”
“You just saw Fu Huixu and told me to learn to be steady and composed. But Mr. Duan himself said that starting a business needs someone with my kind of grit…”
