Ji Yu knew his chances were slim.
He huddled in the cramped space, surrounded by pitch blackness. His fingertips felt ice-cold, and a thin layer of cold sweat beaded on his back.
Silence enveloped him; he could only hear the pounding of his own heart. Ji Yu closed his eyes and patiently listened for sounds from outside. Time dragged on interminably in the wait, each second an exquisite torment.
Theoretically, only a short while had passed. He’d reviewed the entire banquet schedule repeatedly, memorizing every detail. More importantly, he knew Wen Tianlu’s patience all too well—the man absolutely wouldn’t stay put on the first floor, which would only shorten their already limited time.
Quitting now should still be feasible, the thought flickered through his mind. Rational warnings lingered there, constantly reminding him that he was asking for trouble.
Yet in opposition, his limbs stiffened as if an invisible force nailed him in place, rooting him to the spot. He couldn’t muster the strength to push open the adjacent hidden door and scramble out through the passage.
Ji Yu despised this hesitant side of his personality—always overthinking, waffling until the last moment. Once he’d invested money and effort, right at that final step, fear crept in. He’d start picking apart every flaw in the plan, berating himself for his stupidity. He bit down hard on his fingertip to snap himself out of it. We’ve come this far.
To reach this point, he’d been preparing for two or three months: gathering intel, bribing insiders, buying esper agents from the black market. Every step had cost a fortune. And the two vials—one of Esper Concealment Agent, one of Esper Amplification Agent—he’d already injected into himself. Leaving now meant all prior efforts down the drain, with no chance to even resell the agents for turnover cash.
Besides, he wasn’t a Qingchi student. Before, he’d only entered the school thanks to Wen Tianlu’s privileges. After being discarded, their only remaining link was the chat account Wen Tianlu hadn’t blocked yet. Miss this chance today, and he’d likely never get this close to the man again.
The Bohr Hotel gave him a natural geographical edge. Beyond its legitimate business, it served as a playground for the elite Ji Yu could only look up to. Beneath the opulent decor lurked many intriguing designs, especially in the guest floors.
Ji Yu was now on the second floor, which had no bedrooms—the rooms here were relatively proper. To his right lay Room 201, where Wen Tianlu was staying today. To his left, Room 202. Between these adjacent rooms ran a narrow hidden passage, just wide enough for one person to crawl through or curl up inside. That was exactly where Ji Yu hid now.
Its purpose was easy to guess: eavesdropping, peeping, trysts—or conveying “toys” ordered between rooms, forbidden from using the main door, forced to crawl back and forth as messengers.
Ji Yu’s sole aim here was to use his supernatural ability to induce Wen Tianlu into lust and addiction.
Announced aloud, it would drop jaws before erupting in laughter. Ji Yu knew it sounded utterly ridiculous.
If caught, the consequences didn’t bear thinking about. But if successful—God, he’d go from a discarded stray roadside dog to Wen Tianlu’s master who feeds him. Heat flushed through Ji Yu’s head as fear, hatred, excitement, and vindictive glee clawed at his heart.
He’d always considered himself unlucky. The Ji Family had many children, and Ji Yu drew no attention. His supernatural ability was borderline A-Rank—just barely noteworthy—but Peach Fragrance was a Charm-Type Esper Ability. Popular in certain circles, yet utterly disgraceful in the eyes of the Ji Family’s stodgy elders.
Because of his ability, Ji Yu stayed invisible to his family. Because of it, Wen Tianlu had selected him. Wen Tianlu wasn’t a tyrannical master; he was arrogant, cruel, doling out punishment and rewards with precise measure. Sometimes Ji Yu couldn’t tell who truly wielded the charm.
In his deepest throes, he’d wonder: How could anyone think Wen Tianlu is bad?
Compare him to the crueler young masters and ladies around, or the fools carted off to hospitals. Wen Tianlu was tolerant, even gentle. Surrender a sliver of dignity, and you’d earn rewards far beyond what other toys begged and screamed for.
But those cotton-candy-like fleeting illusions ended abruptly once Wen Tianlu grew bored.
Memories swirled in his mind, and Ji Yu couldn’t untangle his true motives. If it was vengeful hatred, the method was too ambiguous, too half-hearted, too entangled, too laughable. Yet if it stemmed from some pure affection, the detached Ji Yu knew better.
Wen Tianlu had simply seen through his nature. Even as a plaything, Ji Yu had tasted unprecedented attention and favor from someone of that status.
Unbeknownst, desire had overgrown like weeds in hidden corners. The thought of returning to normalcy, cut off from that unattainable world, suffocated him.
He understood those who sullied themselves with scandals to climb the top. Once aware, his childish plan had taken vague shape.
Ji Yu rubbed the needle mark on his forearm. A colorless, tasteless gas seeped from his body, slipping through cracks, slowly infiltrating the next room.
A-Rank Peach Fragrance could stir desire through scent, even induce full addiction. But its flaws were glaring.
First, range: the charm gas only emanated from him directly, with no storage method. In special settings, it once earned him praise as a “juicy peach.” Now, it forced him into personal peril.
Second, the scent: as the name implied, it carried a faint peach aroma, growing stronger with concentration and arousal. On others, Ji Yu could mask it, luring targets unaware—he’d assisted in such feats many times, expert at controlling the smell.
But against S-Grade Wen Tianlu, Ji Yu dared not risk it. Lin Xun might appear too.
Lin Xun’s sensitivity to supernatural ability activation was razor-sharp, and he often hung around Wen Tianlu. Ji Yu couldn’t discount him dropping in for a chat.
To counter this, he’d injected Esper Concealment Agent. As the gas source, it also diminished his presence, lowering detection odds.
The other vial, Esper Amplification Agent, insured against the rank gap.
Qingchi was one of the nation’s elite schools, equipped to train S-Grade Espers. Ji Yu’s own school couldn’t admit them. His shallow knowledge came from books, videos, and hearsay. Wen Tianlu rarely used abilities around him.
Combat System fights were brute-force clashes; other systems offered clever underdog wins. Ji Yu had seen far stronger foes reduced to tearful pleas by Peach Fragrance—hulking, muscled bodies crumbling into red, muddy puddles on the floor.
Of course, picturing that on Wen Tianlu was hard. As insurance, Ji Yu bought the black market’s strongest Esper Amplification Agent. Once injected, his power surged noticeably, still climbing, making even his own control effortful.
Those so-called prodigies… how different are they from me, really?
Ji Yu had pondered this the whole way here.
So far, everything went smoothly. Wen Ruoyue didn’t care how her brother “kept his dogs” or if guests lowered her engagement banquet’s tone. Spectating drama suited her; with invites sent to all families, Ji Yu entered openly.
Before slipping into Room 202, he’d sat on an outdoor chair opposite the second-floor rooms, observing.
To maintain his lovesick persona—no hint of “turning on his master”—he played the part fully, humbly asking via phone if he could dance with Wen Tianlu.
As expected, Wen Tianlu replied: “Scram.”
A good omen. Ji Yu was beneath notice, his movements ignored. Suppressing all emotion, he replied deftly: Yes, Master. Sorry.
He waited for the moment to enter Room 202. Soon, Wen Tianlu emerged from Room 201, that signature faint smile on his face, brows and eyes like a painting. His right hand rested on the railing as he overlooked the hall. That elegance Ji Yu could never mimic seeped from his very bones, turning the gilded hall into mere backdrop.
Ji Yu unconsciously gripped his cup tighter, his gaze following downward. In the crowd, two figures stood out instantly. One was familiar: strikingly handsome, peach-blossom eyes always seeming affectionate. Lin Xun’s right hand in his pocket, a casual pose made roguish by his tall, upright frame. The Lin Family dominated entertainment, launching stars galore, yet many insiders prized a single glance of favor from Lin Xun.
The other’s looks were equally striking: red lips, white teeth, elegant brows. Ji Yu didn’t clock the gender at first, studying closely before realizing male.
Excessively refined, he’d seem pitiable when quiet. But now, brows furrowed tight, he complained to Lin Xun with an open mouth—clearly spoiled rotten. Ji Yu again noted appearance’s massive edge: sweet innocence or vicious allure, both at his whim. With such a face, misdeeds hardly bred grudges.
Handsome, and bold enough to bare his temper at Lin Xun? Must be the Jiang Family’s young master.
Ji Yu watched Wen Tianlu descend the stairs to join them. Their easy chat confirmed his guess.
They seemed headed to meet someone, moving toward the door en masse. Ji Yu’s heart leaped to his throat—this might be his best infiltration chance. Then, a stifled gasp from the nearby terrace.
He turned. A sleek black car had silently pulled up at the entrance. Chatter swelled around. Ji Yu wondered who could draw such collective attention from these haughty elites—then it hit: Xie Qi.
He’d glimpsed Xie Qi once or twice, as Wen Tianlu’s No. 13 toy, not even worthy to pour water.
Through Wen Tianlu, he’d peeked at the world via a narrow crack. Wen Tianlu would never introduce him to the top tier, truly into the circle. And Xie Family heirs famously shunned slumming it below.
The car idled briefly at the door before the rear opened on its own. Ji Yu knew instantly: Xie Qi emerged.
Those born to high stations, destined for power… how different are they from me?
Ji Yu knew little of supernatural abilities, but some things were obvious. Fine clothes could package anyone, but aura couldn’t be faked. Standing beside them, he felt diminished, shorter. Wen Tianlu exuded it; Xie Qi did too.
Xie Qi stood idly by the car, ignoring the stares. Heaven granted S-Grade Espers peerless talents, never skimping on looks either. Under the lights, his face gleamed moon-pale, chiseled features handsome and aloof, brows sharp, lines evoking masterfully carved marble.
Of course—the only one they’d go out to greet is Xie Qi. Ji Yu’s face tightened, inwardly hoping they’d chat longer below. He rose toward Room 202, took one step—then heard another sharp inhale, a soft “Oh my God,” laced with even greater envy, near obsession.
Could there be someone even more impressive that he didn’t know about? Ji Yu paused suspiciously, but in the end, he couldn’t suppress his curiosity. Under the banner that observing the situation was important too, he turned back around.
Afterward, his gaze lingered on a hand.
Or rather, on a pair of overlapping hands.
Xie Qi turned sideways, extending his hand into the car in an inviting pose—a gesture that should have been deferential, yet he carried it with an irrepressible arrogance. Then, a hand as pale and exquisite as white jade rested in his palm.
…A dance partner?
Ji Yu heard the uncontrollable clamor from the crowd around him.
The other person used Xie Qi’s hand as support to step into the Bohr Hotel’s venue. In an instant, he silenced the restless commotion like a rest stroke in music. Ji Yu instinctively held his breath, and seconds later, he realized he’d forgotten the passage of time.
He immediately recalled that he’d seen the man once before at Qingchi.
It was indeed an exceptionally handsome face—one that left an unforgettable impression even from a fleeting glimpse. But Ji Yu’s hand twitched unconsciously, his gaze still fixed as if glued in place, unable to shift away. In his daze, he realized something was different from that time.
No matter how outstanding the features, they were still just skin-deep; they shouldn’t hold such overwhelming allure. Besides, the people around him usually encountered and enjoyed sights beyond his imagination, yet now they were all lost in the same trance.
It was as if some more intangible, elusive force had enveloped the venue. Standing beside Xie Qi, he didn’t dim in the slightest. His features lacked Xie Qi’s dominance, carrying instead the chill of frost and snow over a frozen river. Yet there he stood, like the sole figure under the venue’s spotlight, seizing every gaze with an aggressive, overpowering presence.
…He shouldn’t stay here any longer.
Ji Yu’s throat bobbed. An inexplicable urge to beg welled up in him. He should slip into that secret passage while everyone’s attention was fixed outside—instead of lingering here as one of the awestruck masses, letting the opportunity slip through his fingers.
As if hearing his plea, the man at the center of all eyes lifted his head. Ji Yu met those deep, ink-black eyes.
The moment their gazes locked, Ji Yu jolted back to his senses like he’d been shocked by electricity. It was as if he’d finally been granted permission to look away. He remembered his purpose in a panic and hurried toward Room 202.
