Chapter 67

Now, was the other man’s reaction the delayed effects of the alcohol, a ploy to lull him into complacency, or had he truly changed his mind…

Jiang Yaolin naturally hoped for the latter.

Sensing Jiang Yaolin’s gaze upon him, Ji Zhi tried his best not to show any abnormality, but his emotions were exceptionally complicated.

He clearly realized that every inch of skin touched by Jiang Yaolin was silently screaming with discomfort. It was a deep-seated, indescribable rejection, as if some boundary had been forcibly breached. Jiang Yaolin’s embrace was certainly strong, his scent familiar, and even the cautious strokes carried a cherishing born of loss and recovery. Yet all of it together only filled Ji Zhi with a suffocating sense of being trapped.

This was utterly different from Duan Zhao’s touch.

Though Ji Zhi couldn’t pinpoint the exact difference, he could confirm that he felt no such sensation in Duan Zhao’s arms.

Something was faintly dawning on Ji Zhi.

And just then, he heard a sound from outside the door.

Clearly, since Ji Zhi hadn’t returned and hadn’t replied to the message, Sophia had come looking for him.

Ji Zhi’s nerves tightened as he instinctively glanced at Jiang Yaolin, but the man showed no trace of tension.

Ji Zhi soon understood why Jiang Yaolin wasn’t nervous. Moments later, he heard the man calmly call out, “I’m fine. I didn’t check my phone earlier. I’ll be out right away—you go back first.”

The voice Jiang Yaolin produced was remarkably similar to his own. It wasn’t identical, but through the door, Ji Zhi wasn’t sure if Sophia would buy it.

Jiang Yaolin, however, was quite confident in his mimicry.

After Sophia responded, the footsteps outside gradually receded.

Realizing that Sophia had apparently believed the imitated voice, Ji Zhi’s heart sank, his last sliver of hope seemingly extinguished along with it.

As Sophia’s footsteps faded, Jiang Yaolin showed no surprise—he was confident in his abilities, after all.

“Bro, let’s go,” he said softly, his tone laced with a coaxing gentleness. Sophia’s appearance had reminded him to hurry.

Though he’d brought men with him, the sudden tip-off and being in a foreign country meant he hadn’t had time for elaborate preparations. He had no intention of clashing with them. His original plan had been to have someone detain the woman who’d come in with Ji Zhi while he slipped out the back with Ji Zhi. But Ji Zhi’s resistance had caught him off guard, wasting precious time.

Ji Zhi realized this too and tried to stall again with the same trick, but Jiang Yaolin gave him no chance.

Half-holding, half-carrying Ji Zhi, Jiang Yaolin led him away from the hidden corner. Forced to lean most of his weight against Jiang Yaolin, Ji Zhi appeared, to any onlookers, like one half of an intimate couple, one slightly tipsy and leaning on the other—no one would pay them much mind.

Though Ji Zhi desperately wanted to cry out for help, he couldn’t make a sound.

Jiang Yaolin was pleased by this dependent posture, even knowing it might not be Ji Zhi’s true intent. He shielded Ji Zhi carefully, avoiding paths with potential passersby, and headed toward the back exit he’d already scouted. His heart raced with the thrill and anxiety of imminent success. Two years—he could finally touch this person again, truly and tangibly, and take him away from that eyesore.

Pressed against Jiang Yaolin’s chest, Ji Zhi could hear the man’s heartbeat as well.

The corridor was dimly lit, the air thick with the pub’s signature mix of alcohol and food scents.

Just as they neared the turn toward the rear exit, a figure emerged unhurriedly from the shadows of the main hallway, blocking their path precisely.

The man stood tall and straight in a tailored dark overcoat, the gold frames of his glasses glinting faintly under the lights. He released no deliberate pressure, simply standing there with calm eyes fixed on them, yet the surrounding air seemed to freeze, carrying an intangible weight.

It was Duan Zhao.

The moment Ji Zhi recognized him, his pupils contracted sharply. He nearly blurted out the man’s name, but his throat felt blocked, managing only a faint, choked breath. Hope burst forth in his eyes.

Duan Zhao wasn’t alone—Sophia was with him, along with others.

“Mr. Jiang,” Duan Zhao said, his voice low and steady, betraying no ripples, yet it echoed clearly down the corridor like a stone dropped into still water. “It’s late. Where are you taking my man?”

Ji Zhi noticed, however, that the usual upward curve of Duan Zhao’s lips held no smile.

“Your man?” Jiang Yaolin halted, pulling Ji Zhi tighter to his side. The feigned vulnerability had vanished from his face. He met Duan Zhao’s gaze directly, his eyes sharp as blades, piercing the dim light in a silent standoff. “Has Mr. Duan gotten something wrong? Matters between me and my brother are no outsider’s business.”

Jiang Yaolin’s tone was as righteous as ever, but facing the provocation, Duan Zhao’s eyes instinctively shifted back to Ji Zhi—

The words stirred only a shallow flicker of anger in him. What mattered most was Ji Zhi’s reaction.

Though they spent every day together, seeing Ji Zhi pressed so close to Jiang Yaolin still filled Duan Zhao with worry that he might choose to leave with the man.

Duan Zhao’s gaze first swept over Ji Zhi—his flushed cheeks, tousled hair, and those eyes misty with alcohol and panic, now locked tightly on him. Confirming no wounds on Ji Zhi, his eyes lingered a moment on the wrist gripped tightly by Jiang Yaolin, his own gaze darkening.

Only then did he slowly turn to Jiang Yaolin, a faint, almost icy arc tugging at his lips. “It looks like he doesn’t want to go with you.”

Even if Ji Zhi had chosen to leave, Duan Zhao wouldn’t have let him go easily. But seeing Ji Zhi choose him over Jiang Yaolin still sparked pleasure in his heart.

His eyes flicked back to Ji Zhi and Jiang Yaolin, snapping him back to the moment.

Once discovered by Duan Zhao, Jiang Yaolin’s plan to escape with Ji Zhi was doomed.

Duan Zhao’s men sealed off the front and back. Even if Jiang Yaolin’s people tried to force their way in, they were blocked at the rear door.

Duan Zhao keenly caught the surge of emotions in the other’s eyes—

Annoyance at being intercepted, unwillingness at failing by a hair’s breadth to take Ji Zhi away, but above all, a near-mad, stubborn possessiveness, like vines coiled tight, refusing to yield.

Jiang Yaolin’s lips pressed into a pale line, his jaw clenched, his eyes thick with obsession threatening to spill over.

His gaze stayed fixed on Ji Zhi, so he didn’t trade barbs with Duan Zhao as before.

Duan Zhao sneered inwardly. Having learned from Fu Huixu’s precedent, he didn’t give Jiang Yaolin a chance to play pitiful. Before the man could speak, he pulled Ji Zhi into his arms and led him away, blocking Jiang Yaolin’s line of sight.

As he walked, he pondered how to keep a closer eye on Jiang Yaolin from now on.

Previously, his attention had been on Fu Huixu, so he’d overlooked Jiang Yaolin, giving the man an opening.

Ji Zhi’s question about why he was there snapped Duan Zhao back.

It turned out Duan Zhao had finished work early and wanted to find Ji Zhi, so he’d messaged Sophia to ask where they were. Upon arriving at the pub, he’d seen Sophia heading this way but no sign of Ji Zhi, so he’d called out to ask. Learning Ji Zhi hadn’t emerged stirred his suspicions.

Hearing Duan Zhao’s explanation, Ji Zhi felt a mix of lingering fear and relief.

Good thing he’d stalled a bit back then—otherwise, he might have missed Duan Zhao entirely. He knew Duan Zhao would come for him eventually, but it would have taken time…

Fortunately, he was safe now, no matter what.

Sophia looked apologetic. Only after Ji Zhi assured her it wasn’t her fault did her expression ease slightly, though she still apologized to him.

Because of Jiang Yaolin’s interruption, they couldn’t stay at the pub any longer. After wandering nearby to unwind, Duan Zhao took Ji Zhi back to the hotel.

The suite door closed behind them, shutting out all the world’s noise and unrest. The warm yellow light in the entryway cast a soft glow, bathing them in a hazy halo.

At first, Duan Zhao only noticed the red mark on the back of Ji Zhi’s neck when he changed clothes. He touched it lightly. “What happened here?”

Hearing Duan Zhao point it out, Ji Zhi froze—he didn’t recall Jiang Yaolin touching him there, or perhaps it was an accidental brush…

Unable to see the back of his neck, Ji Zhi obediently lowered his head. Duan Zhao parted the short hair covering it and examined the mark. Realizing it wasn’t a wound, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. From their countless intimacies, he knew Ji Zhi’s skin was delicate— the slightest pressure left an ambiguous red trace.

But it reminded him there were still some hidden spots he hadn’t checked.

Duan Zhao: “Are there other places to look at? Does your back hurt?”

With his back to Duan Zhao, the areas being checked were blind spots for Ji Zhi, so he entrusted the task to him.

Even facing away, Ji Zhi could feel Duan Zhao’s gaze on him, the pad of a finger trailing down his spine as the man periodically asked if he felt any pain.

At first, Ji Zhi didn’t feel much. But whether it was the alcohol going to his head or his body gradually becoming more sensitive over these past days, he soon began to notice sensations stirring within him.

By the time he came back to his senses, he had already taken the initiative to wrap his arms around the other man.

A flicker of astonishment passed through Duan Zhao’s eyes. But as he caught the scent of alcohol wafting from Ji Zhi and took in the faint flush coloring his cheeks, he understood immediately.

The suite’s lights had been dimmed to their softest setting, leaving only a single warm orange wall lamp by the bedside. It cast hazy, intimate shadows across the room. Ji Zhi was gently laid down onto the soft bedding, while Duan Zhao leaned over him, his movements as light and slow as a feather’s caress. His kiss first landed on Ji Zhi’s forehead, full of tender reverence. Then it trailed downward, brushing over trembling eyelids to kiss away the lingering traces of unease. Finally, it settled carefully on those slightly parted lips, laced with the aroma of wine.

It was a deeply lingering kiss. Duan Zhao’s tongue gently pried open his teeth, patiently coaxing, entwining, and sharing their breaths.

At some point, Ji Zhi’s clothes had been quietly slipped away. The cool air brushed against his skin, making him shiver slightly. But in the next instant, Duan Zhao’s warm body covered his own.

As waves of pleasure spread through his body, Ji Zhi’s long lashes trembled violently. He instinctively wanted to close his eyes.

Duan Zhao’s gaze never left Ji Zhi, taking in every single reaction. He adjusted his movements accordingly, then spoke in that same gentle tone as always. “Xiao Zhi, I love you…”

Ji Zhi had heard those words countless times before. Each time, they left him with complicated feelings, unsure how to respond to Duan Zhao.

But this time, he couldn’t help recalling the events of the day.

The revulsion and suffocation that had seeped into his very bones when Jiang Yaolin had forcibly embraced him; the despair that had plunged him into an abyss as he was half-dragged toward that unknown back door, realizing he might never see Duan Zhao again; and then, in the dim corridor, the wild joy and dependence that had nearly burst from his chest when Duan Zhao’s figure suddenly appeared.

Had he… fallen in love with Duan Zhao as well?

Ji Zhi looked at the man before him. Realizing this, his heart pounded wildly, and even the temperature of his body seemed to rise.

He tried to speak. “I… I love you too…”

Ji Zhi had thought those words would be hard to say, but they came out far more smoothly than expected. They weren’t as shameful to admit as he’d imagined.

And once they were out, a sense of relief washed over him, as if he’d finally figured something out.

But right after he spoke, he felt Duan Zhao’s movements pause.

Ji Zhi blinked in confusion.

His attention refocused on the man above him.

It was an extremely rare expression—one utterly unlike Duan Zhao’s usual steady composure. Propped up over Ji Zhi, his eyes held a dazed pause, nearly blank. He even tilted his head slightly, as if doubting whether his arousal had caused him to hallucinate. Those lips, always curved in a gentle smile, were now pressed into a firm line.

Time seemed to stretch out endlessly in that moment.

Ji Zhi wasn’t imagining it; he could sense that even Duan Zhao’s breathing had grown shallower.

Nor was it his imagination. Duan Zhao was indeed proceeding with utmost care, afraid that the slightest sound might shatter this sudden, dreamlike gift.

Thinking back to Ji Zhi’s words, he still couldn’t quite believe it. Had he misheard? Had Ji Zhi truly responded to him?

Before this, he had imagined countless possibilities.

Perhaps it would take even longer companionship, endless patience and gentleness to slowly melt Ji Zhi’s reservations. Or maybe, until the end of their lives, he would never hear a response.

Duan Zhao simply hadn’t expected the reply to come so soon.

He instinctively wanted Ji Zhi to repeat it, yet feared confirming it was all just a fantasy.

It was rare for Duan Zhao to hesitate like this.

But Ji Zhi’s voice rang out again. “I love you.”

Now, Duan Zhao’s expression was far easier to read than usual. Ji Zhi could discern his emotions clearly. He was startled by such a strong reaction, but seeing the bewilderment in those eyes stirred a soft ache in his heart. In the end, he couldn’t help speaking once more.

This time, Duan Zhao had heard it clearly.

No sooner had the words left Ji Zhi’s lips than he felt a hand reach out. The arms embracing him tightened fiercely.

Duan Zhao let out a sigh that was nearly a breath of satisfaction, burying his face in Ji Zhi’s neck. He chuckled lowly.

Even without seeing Duan Zhao’s face, Ji Zhi could tell he was in high spirits. That laughter was no longer the mild, distant chuckle of before but a deep, heartfelt sound laced with magnetic vibration. It made Ji Zhi’s ears tingle, set his heart fluttering, and lifted his own mood in turn.

Ji Zhi and Duan Zhao were officially together now.

Though it was Ji Zhi’s first relationship, he quickly realized that being with Duan Zhao felt no different from the past two-plus years. Their interactions had already been those of lovers.

Duan Zhao continued to care for his daily needs with meticulous attention, keeping watch over his studies. But now, the tenderness woven into their routines felt all the more rightful and sweet.

Days flowed by like water.

In Ji Zhi’s senior year of college, on an ordinary autumn afternoon, Duan Zhao orchestrated a proposal that was elaborate yet effortlessly natural.

There were no grand spectacles or crowds of onlookers. That day, he took Ji Zhi to a serene art estate on the city’s outskirts. Autumn sunlight bathed the expansive golden ginkgo leaves in a warm glow, and thick layers of fallen leaves crunched softly underfoot.

They strolled as they always did, chatting about Ji Zhi’s upcoming thesis and some harmless anecdotes from Duan Zhao’s company. When they reached the base of a massive ginkgo tree—like a golden canopy—Duan Zhao stopped naturally and pulled a small velvet box from his coat pocket.

His movements remained composed, but Ji Zhi keenly noticed the slight tension in the fingers holding the box. Those eyes, always watching him with a smile, now brimmed with barely concealed anticipation.

“Xiao Zhi,” Duan Zhao’s voice was a touch lower than usual, carrying a solemn gentleness. “Will you stay with me forever?”

He slowly opened the box to reveal a simply designed yet exquisitely crafted ring, its inner band engraved with the initials of their names.

The moment caught Ji Zhi off guard, but once it sank in, heat pricked at his eyes.

He realized he was about to have a real family of his own.

Without the slightest hesitation, Ji Zhi nodded firmly and extended his hand. His voice choked slightly but rang clear. “I will.”

Joy flooded Duan Zhao’s eyes. He carefully slid the ring onto Ji Zhi’s ring finger—it fit perfectly. Rising, he pulled Ji Zhi into a tight embrace. Beneath that golden, poetic autumn light, they shared a tender kiss scented with the crisp fragrance of ginkgo leaves.

Not long after, they registered their marriage abroad. The ceremony was simple, inviting only a handful of close friends.

Besides Chen Xingwen, who had known all along, Duan Zhao also invited Chen Xingwen’s parents.

After Ji Zhi’s own parents passed away, Chen Xingwen’s parents had looked after him a great deal, practically serving as his second set of parents. They were open-minded about such matters, having long accepted Chen Xingwen’s love for anime characters and disinterest in marriage. They embraced Ji Zhi’s union with another man without fuss.

After all, with Ji Zhi skipping New Year’s celebrations at home for years, Chen’s father and mother had guessed he must have started a new family.

Ji Zhi wore a tailored white suit, while Duan Zhao cut a classic figure in black. Amid blessings from their loved ones, they exchanged wedding rings and signed the legal documents binding them.

Emerging from the registry office, the sun shone brightly. Duan Zhao clasped Ji Zhi’s hand tightly, their matching rings glinting in the light on their ring fingers.

Together, they walked slowly forward, into their future.