By the time the party reached its latter half, Wei Tingxia, who had been getting some fresh air outside, finally sauntered back to Yan Xinfeng’s side.
The venue had long since entered a stage of drunken revelry. Lu Zhao and Xu Wei stuck together the whole time, sometimes whispering secrets to each other, sometimes throwing their heads back in laughter, their ten fingers tightly interlocked, the pair of engagement rings refracting dazzling light spots under the lamps.
Wei Tingxia was clear-headed. He glanced at Yan Xinfeng’s slightly loosened silk scarf and naturally reached out to straighten it for him.
Just as his fingertips touched the edge of the silk scarf, his wrist was suddenly gripped by someone.
A faint scent of alcohol wafted from Yan Xinfeng, but his gaze was unusually focused as he stared straight at him.
“How many?”
Wei Tingxia used his free hand to show a number in front of his eyes.
“…”
Yan Xinfeng did not reply. Instead, he grabbed his other hand as well and pulled it forcefully toward himself.
The application of force caused a shift in posture. Wei Tingxia had originally just been sitting on the sofa, but with that pull, he could only half-kneel and rise, his knee pressing onto Yan Xinfeng’s thigh.
He looked down at his hands, which were firmly restrained, and when he raised his head again, a teasing smile hung on Wei Tingxia’s lips.
“Sorry, but I don’t have a kink for bondage.”
Yan Xinfeng narrowed his eyes at him. After a moment, he asked, “Don’t you?”
“No.” Wei Tingxia had to be responsible for his reputation. “I’m not one to experiment.”
“Alright then.”
Yan Xinfeng let go of his hands.
Before Wei Tingxia could even savor that brief freedom, Yan Xinfeng pulled off the newly straightened silk scarf and tied it around Wei Tingxia’s wrists, complete with a fancy butterfly knot.
After tying it, Yan Xinfeng admired it contentedly for a while, then patted Wei Tingxia’s wrist like one would pat a dog’s head and praised, “Looks good.”
Wei Tingxia did not argue with the drunkard and leaned back onto the sofa.
System 0188 suddenly appeared: [Something happened to the Wang family?]
Wei Tingxia did not react immediately. “Which Wang family?”
[Wang Yufei,] System 0188 said. [Someone reported his family’s company for tax evasion, lax work procedures, and even causing deaths.]
“Is the report real?”
[It’s real. I just checked; everything checks out.]
That was bad. Wei Tingxia said, “Then compile the evidence and send it over together.”
[Got it. But doesn’t only I think the timing is too coincidental?]
“What’s coincidental?”
[Just a few days after he met you, the company got reported,] System 0188 said. [Reasonable to suspect someone pulling strings behind the scenes.]
With such an obvious hint, Wei Tingxia could not fail to understand.
“You mean Yan Xinfeng arranged it.”
[It’s reasonable. He never liked you interacting with others before.]
And Wang Yufei was not just a simple interaction; he was one link in Wei Tingxia’s scheme.
Wei Tingxia thought pensively, “No wonder he hasn’t been harassing me lately.”
Yan Xinfeng did not want to lay hands on Wei Tingxia himself, so his anger spilled over onto the bystander—Wang Yufei was out of luck. Very reasonable.
[So, do you want to—]
System 0188’s voice cut off abruptly. The drunk Yan Xinfeng suddenly leaned over, his scorching hot palm pressing against Wei Tingxia’s neck, then sliding up along the curve until it stopped at his left brow.
Wei Tingxia turned his face sideways and saw that Yan Xinfeng’s eyes were dark and sober.
He could not help but ask, “Did you arrange what happened to Wang Yufei?”
At his words, Yan Xinfeng’s fingertip twitched slightly. A flicker of contemplation passed through his eyes before it quickly hid beneath the drunken haze. He did not answer but countered with a question, “Do you care about him that much?”
Wei Tingxia told the truth. “Not at all.”
“Good. I think so too.”
Yan Xinfeng’s scorching palm pressed against the side of Wei Tingxia’s face as he traced his brows and eyes, chuckling, “You wouldn’t even look at me—how could you like that loser?”
“Yeah,” Wei Tingxia sighed. “I’m glad you have a unique insight into my taste.”
As he sighed, Yan Xinfeng’s expression turned melancholic too. The hand stroking his broken brow dropped, brushing lightly past Wei Tingxia’s arm.
The two sat there all sticky and close, neither speaking nor making other physical contact—just sitting like that, heads touching, as if both were drunk.
Later, when the fun-seekers had their fill and prepared to return to their rooms, Wei Tingxia woke from a brief light sleep, feeling someone gently shaking him.
“Party’s over?” he asked, opening his eyes.
“Yes,” Yan Xinfeng looked a bit more sober. “Time to go back.”
Laughter drifted from afar. Xu Wei slumped into Lu Zhao’s arms, her high heels long discarded. Barefoot, she hopped and skipped about. Wei Tingxia watched silently, feeling as if their happiness had crossed the distance and smeared right in front of him.
Yan Xinfeng seemed to feel the same.
“I actually considered a cruise vacation too,” he said slowly, “but not to the Faroe Islands, but—”
Wei Tingxia cut him off. “—don’t say anything you’ll regret when you wake up tomorrow morning.”
He did not turn his head as he spoke, his gaze still fixed on the doorway. In the play of light and shadow, the side of his face had a cold, iron-like pallor.
Yan Xinfeng fell silent.
The sounds of uproar and laughter grew farther and farther from them until the banquet hall held only the two of them. They still nestled together—one because he was still drunk, the other because he did not want to move.
Wei Tingxia watched the engaged couple walk farther away, listening to their footsteps gradually fade. Yan Xinfeng’s breath brushed his neck. Wei Tingxia lowered his head, suddenly curious about what they looked like in the eyes of the man beside him.
After pondering for a bit, anger surged in his heart. He directly raised his hand and shoved the head buried in his shoulder away, letting Yan Xinfeng topple blankly to the other side.
“What are you doing?” Yan Xinfeng furrowed his brows. “Throwing another tantrum?”
Wei Tingxia did not indulge him. “Throwing a tantrum? Don’t think your pocket change lets you slander me. Who between us is crazy is still up in the air!”
“My pocket change?”
Yan Xinfeng nearly laughed. “Who was it that demanded a multi-million suite right upon meeting? Who charges ten thousand per question? Without my pocket change, you’d be lying in the staff dorm right now!”
“Yeah, that’s all you’ve got,” Wei Tingxia nodded. “What else can you give me besides money?”
His gaze was very provocative, looking down from above as if he truly looked down on Yan Xinfeng and his money.
Yan Xinfeng half-lay on the sofa and took a deep breath upon hearing that.
Normally, he might have been pissed off by Wei Tingxia, but he was drunk now, so he had other ideas.
He said calmly, “You just need to get fucked.”
Wei Tingxia did not catch on. “What?”
Yan Xinfeng had no intention of repeating himself. He reached out quickly, yanked Wei Tingxia right in front of him, then unhesitatingly hoisted him onto his shoulder. One hand passed between Wei Tingxia’s legs as he stood up swiftly.
The whole process flowed smoothly, and in the blink of an eye, Wei Tingxia was slung over his shoulder.
“Fuck you!”
Realizing what was happening, Wei Tingxia struggled wildly. “Are you crazy? Who’s going to bed with you? Fuck you…”
If there was any impact from the past five years on Yan Xinfeng, his control over his body was definitely one of them. Even as Wei Tingxia nearly flipped over on his shoulder, he walked steadily without so much as batting an eyelid.
When he finally felt the person on his shoulder was making too much fuss, he casually smacked his butt and said evenly, “You’re like a mantis right now.”
Having his butt smacked, Wei Tingxia’s face instantly flushed red. He was furious beyond measure and even wanted to smash Yan Xinfeng’s head.
“You’re the mantis, your whole family are mantises. Who the hell do you think you are…”
He cursed and struggled. Yan Xinfeng ignored every word, only smacking him again when he went too far. Then the two smoothly arrived at the suite door, where Hu Yao opened it.
Wei Tingxia was directly tossed onto the bed closest to the door.
The bed was soft enough, but the sudden drop from height still dizzied him for a moment. Before Wei Tingxia recovered, he opened his mouth to curse, “Yan Xinfeng, you lunatic…”
Before he finished speaking, Yan Xinfeng, who had long since tuned out all his words, flung off his jacket, grabbed his ankle, swiftly removed Wei Tingxia’s shoes and socks together and tossed them to the floor. Then, as Wei Tingxia curled his legs back trying to dodge, he undid the shirt buttons one by one.
“Just pretend I’m a lunatic then,” he nodded and turned off the bedside warm lamp. “Don’t cry or yell for help later.”
Wei Tingxia flipped him the bird. “Even if everyone in the world died, I wouldn’t yell for help.”
“Good. I’m proud of you.”
Yan Xinfeng satisfactorily took off his shirt and pressed his palm against Wei Tingxia’s chest, slowly pushing him back onto the bed.
Shadows and desire descended together.
…
…
The hangover felt like someone had smashed his brain to pieces.
Not that he lacked the risk for it.
Recalling what happened last night, Yan Xinfeng was surprised he was still alive and well, not smothered to death in his sleep.
He sat up and saw Wei Tingxia sleeping with his back to him. The exposed shoulders and back bore layers of new kiss marks over the old ones from days ago, and the tied silk scarf lay crumpled on the carpet, evoking a sense of exhaustion and intimacy.
At the same time, Yan Xinfeng felt some pain on his own back. When he went to the bathroom, he saw not only scratches but also a few bite marks precisely covering that scar.
He had no idea how that happened.
He frowned and took a shower. When he came out, he instructed the housekeeper to send medicine but not to knock—let Wei Tingxia sleep as long as he could. By the time he finished showering, the medicine was at the door. Yan Xinfeng swallowed two pills, and last night’s memories slowly resurfaced.
Wei Tingxia’s curses replayed in his ears like a recording. Yan Xinfeng was not angry; instead, he found it novel, even a bit amusing.
He carefully mulled over last night’s conflict and realized Wei Tingxia’s point of anger mainly lay in—Yan Xinfeng’s pocket change.
As if Yan Xinfeng was insulting him with money.
His phone rang at that moment. Wei Tingxia turned over on the bed, showing signs of waking.
Yan Xinfeng quickly picked up the phone. It was a message from Lu Zhao.
After sobering up, he recalled what Yan Xinfeng had told him last night. [You two okay?]
Yan Xinfeng replied: [We’re fine.]
[Wang Chong told me something came up; he’s getting off the ship.]
Having clashed with Yan Xinfeng, staying on the ship would be unwise. Leaving now was best. Yan Xinfeng had no objections.
So he replied: [Got it.]
Lu Zhao went quiet for a bit, then asked: [What are you up to? Come eat together.]
Yan Xinfeng certainly would not tell Lu Zhao he was replaying last night’s argument with Wei Tingxia, so he refused directly: [No.]
Seeing this, Lu Zhao did not insist, and the conversation ended.
Yan Xinfeng set down the phone and looked up to find Wei Tingxia awake, sprawled on the bed, gazing at him with deep, shadowy eyes.