Dai Linxuan leaned against the headboard, on the phone. “Thanks.”
“No need to thank me.” Tang Yue’s voice came from the other end. “To be honest, my dad hasn’t been as close to Li Zheng these past few years. It was pretty surprising that he agreed to meet at this critical moment. After all, everyone knows I’m friends with you—this is like Sima Zhao’s intentions; everyone knows.”
Dai Corporation had already held its shareholders’ meeting this year. If Dai Linxuan wanted to join the board, they needed to convene another temporary shareholders’ meeting for a vote.
Conveniently, Dai Songxue, the chairman, was in declining health and desperately wanted to reclaim the family legacy before he died. Now, there was a perfect opportunity: the Huo Family intended to form a marriage alliance and had proactively proposed that Dai Corporation acquire their largest maritime shipping subsidiary.
This required presenting a specific acquisition plan at the board meeting on October 8th, which could conveniently be used to propose the appointment of a new director, to be voted on together at the temporary shareholders’ meeting.
Dai Corporation was a typical family business. Li Zheng was not only a rare major shareholder from outside the family but also a director. In the past, he had maintained a neutral stance on the internal power struggles of the Dai Family. Based on his usual style, he would likely abstain from voting on the new director election, and Dai Linxuan didn’t need his vote anyway.
But the situation was different now. Dai Linxuan’s scandalous video had been sent to the directors’ hands, and most of them were major shareholders. Even though Jiang Qiujun had resolved the video crisis, their internal scales would inevitably tip, increasing the chance of Dai Linxuan being rejected.
Thus, securing Li Zheng’s vote as a major shareholder became very worthwhile.
“My dad said he might have agreed to the dinner for Yan Luan’s sake,” Tang Yue hissed. “There were rumors back in the day that Yan Luan had a big shot backing her. Was it Li Zheng?”
Dai Linxuan neither confirmed nor denied it.
“So you deliberately had me set the dinner near the set…” Tang Yue suddenly realized. “You cast Yan Luan in this script and got me to invest together—was it because you foresaw needing to call in these favors today?”
“A single TV drama wouldn’t make Luan-jie owe such a big favor.” Dai Linxuan chuckled faintly. “As for you, if I hadn’t asked you to invest, you wouldn’t have helped today?”
“True, I’d definitely help if you asked.” Tang Yue chuckled wryly. “I’ll send you the restaurant address on WeChat. It’s inside Saibo City—no more, I’m so sleepy. Gonna catch some more shut-eye.”
Dai Linxuan thanked him again and agreed.
Tang Yue hung up, rolled over, and pulled his bed companion into his arms.
His hand wandered restlessly for a bit. In his drowsy haze, he suddenly remembered Dai Linxuan’s line about the drama not warranting such a big favor from Luan-jie. He jolted awake, eyes snapping open.
The woman beside him mumbled groggily, “What’s wrong?”
Tang Yue soothed her. “Nothing, keep sleeping.”
He threw off the covers, got up, and headed to the study while pondering—it was true. Yan Luan, the only Grand Slam actress in the country, why would she lower her status to act in a TV drama this time? Her personal friendship with Dai Linxuan wasn’t that deep.
Tang Yue had previously thought Yan Luan couldn’t refuse due to Dai Linxuan’s status, but now the more he thought about it, the more off it seemed.
He called his assistant. “Gone out? … As long as you’re in the city, head to the company. Bring the sealed file from the left drawer of my desk to West City Villa.”
He hadn’t even read the script for this drama yet; he only knew it was suspense-crime genre.
After hanging up with Tang Yue, Dai Linxuan’s sleepiness vanished too.
It was just barely dawn, the wall clock’s hour hand pointing at five, the second hand ticking around relentlessly.
What did he have to do today? Dai Linxuan closed his eyes and recalled: lunch with another director, and in the evening, back to the Old Residence to explain the video matter to Dai Songxue face-to-face.
He reviewed his prepared plans and talking points over and over, refining and polishing them to ensure no oversights.
Time ticked by until seven o’clock, when Dai Linxuan opened his eyes again and let out a light breath.
He thought for a moment, then opened his phone to find last night’s surveillance footage.
The audio pickup was good; the sound of palms slapping flesh was extremely clear.
Dai Linxuan fast-forwarded through that part and saw that after he returned to his room, Lai Li remained in the same position for a long time without moving.
He recalled and confirmed that last night’s force wouldn’t have left Lai Li half-paralyzed.
Half an hour later, Lai Li finally stirred. He rolled onto his back. His eyes might have been stung by the light; he raised his arm to shield them, blocking his expression too.
He must have been furious.
Lai Li hadn’t endured such humiliation in at least twelve years. Besides, getting spanked at ten and at twenty-two were entirely different; the former hurt the body, the latter the pride.
In the footage, Lai Li never returned to his room.
Dai Linxuan dragged the progress bar to an hour ago; Lai Li was still lying on the sofa, pose unchanged.
He had spent the entire night in the living room.
Dai Linxuan exited the recording, and the live feed popped up. He was caught off guard, locking eyes with a pair of pitch-black ones—
Lai Li was kneeling in front of the liquor cabinet, staring right at this not-particularly-hidden camera.
“…” Dai Linxuan’s heart inevitably skipped a beat, then steadied. He watched Lai Li on the monitor quietly.
They stared at each other across the void, the timestamp in the bottom left ticking forward second by second.
Dai Linxuan’s fingertip glided over the screen, rubbing Lai Li’s face for a moment, then lightly scraping over his eyes, nose bridge, and finally the lips turned crimson by the camera filter.
Dai Linxuan remembered clearly: the first hint of misunderstanding arose when Lai Li was sixteen.
Due to childhood malnutrition and poor development, Lai Li didn’t experience his first wet dream until sixteen. That day, they slept together as usual, around this same dim dawn hour. His biological clock woke Dai Linxuan, who sensed something off behind him. He reached back and felt a sticky wetness.
Dai Linxuan found it somewhat amusing and planned to pretend not to know and get up first, to spare Lai Li embarrassment upon waking—wet dreams were pretty private for a teenage boy.
But before he could move, Lai Li woke up.
Dai Linxuan froze, unsure whether to get out of bed right then. But Lai Li was far bolder than he imagined; he actually started busying himself right behind him.
Dai Linxuan could only feign sleep, helplessly waiting for his audacious little brother to finish his manual task.
Until Lai Li pressed his forehead against his back and murmured lowly, “Bro…”
Dai Linxuan thought his pretense was busted. His mind raced for how to respond without embarrassing Lai Li. The next second, Lai Li drawled again, “Dai Linxuan.”
Lai Li’s voice was soft and slow, laced with suppressed panting, as if afraid of waking something.
Only then did Dai Linxuan realize something was off.
He didn’t call him out, tolerating the teenage Lai Li’s verbal “blasphemy.”
Later, he figured Lai Li’s exposure to people was too limited. He even had private tutors for school, knew no peers except Dai Yi, and had no friends to share dirty sites with.
So Dai Linxuan introduced him to his friend’s younger brother—Jing Deyu, just a year older, outgoing with lots of friends, perfect for quickly expanding Lai Li’s social circle.
For a long time after, nothing unusual happened, and Dai Linxuan gradually forgot the incident.
The second misunderstanding came on Lai Li’s eighteenth birthday.
As an adopted son, Lai Li didn’t get a lavish coming-of-age ceremony. Dai Linxuan was willing to throw one for him, but he refused.
Lai Li said, “A coming-of-age only happens once. I want to spend it alone with you. Can’t I?”
Dai Linxuan wasn’t dense; he sensed something subtle. But considering Lai Li’s excessive clinginess since childhood, it felt normal.
Friends led by Jing Deyu bombarded them with calls, saying they’d set up a birthday party for Lai Li. He replied he wasn’t going and shut off his phone.
Dai Linxuan made a cake by hand, sang happy birthday, and Lai Li mimicked Dai Yi’s birthday ritual, making a wish to the cake.
Dai Linxuan turned on the light, leaned against the wall with a smile. “If it’s a material wish, better to ask me than pray to the gods.”
“It’s not.” Lai Li glanced up, said softly, “But you could make it happen.”
Dai Linxuan followed up unguardedly. “Tell me.”
Lai Li whispered, “I hope you like me.”
Dai Linxuan froze. The image of sixteen-year-old Lai Li masturbating against his back flashed back. For once, the man who never let the mood sour couldn’t respond promptly, torn between overthinking it and fearing an improper reply would hurt the boy’s feelings.
Lai Li soon dropped his gaze to the cake, silent.
Dai Linxuan pulled out a chair and sat, probing, “What? Think I didn’t like you enough before?”
Lai Li looked up after a moment, hummed. “I want you to like me forever… only me.”
Dai Linxuan teased deliberately, “Then what about Dai Yi?”
Lai Li frowned, said there was no way.
…
At the time, Dai Linxuan thought Lai Li had taken the out he gave, steering this “like” toward familial affection. But now, he realized Lai Li had no other intent; he’d overthought it.
All Lai Li wanted to possess was “big brother.”
But back then, Dai Linxuan didn’t know that. He even pitied Lai Li’s “restraint.” Afterward, he probed several times, wanting to clarify and guide properly—maybe Lai Li confused dependence with adult love, and letting it fester could hurt him.
He asked if Lai Li liked anyone. The answer was firm: “No.”
His expression and tone showed no suppressed or restrained emotions.
Dai Linxuan buried his doubts. Months later, returning from an out-of-province business trip, he got off the plane to a message from Jing Deyu: Lai Li was blackout drunk.
Entering the bar, Dai Linxuan realized it was a gay bar. Dusty from travel, he reached the booth unprepared and was pushed onto the sofa by the “unconscious” Lai Li.
Lai Li tore his suit, leaned down to lick and kiss his neck and collarbone.
Jing Deyu stood by, stunned, muttering, “Was there hallucinogenic in today’s drinks…?”
Dai Linxuan was speechless. It took effort to carry Lai Li to the car, arrange another ride for Jing Deyu home, and remind him: if Lai Li didn’t bring it up, don’t mention tonight.
Back home, while helping Lai Li remove his outer clothes, Dai Linxuan was pulled down onto the bed again.
With bedding cushioning, Dai Linxuan wasn’t worried about injury. He shoved him aside, pinned his shoulders, and asked, “Do you even know who I am?”
Lai Li didn’t answer, just called “Bro.”
Dai Linxuan flicked his forehead, smiled helplessly. “You know I’m your bro and still go wild on booze?”
“I don’t go wild on anyone else…” Lai Li slowly, tentatively, removed Dai Linxuan’s hands from his shoulders bit by bit, then hugged him, burying his face in his neck and licking lightly. “Bro, I like your scent.”
Dai Linxuan shuddered all over, clearly feeling his heart skip a beat.
That was the beginning of sin.
Outside the monitor, Lai Li shifted.
Dai Linxuan pulled his thoughts from memory and heard twenty-two-year-old Lai Li say in a forbearant, suppressed tone through the feed, “Dai Linxuan, had enough sleep?”
It sounded like he wanted to settle scores.
“Nine hours.” Lai Li seemed to have waited exactly that long. “Slept enough? Come out.”
Dai Linxuan ignored him, went to the bathroom for a shower. When he emerged wrapped in a towel, Lai Li had somehow snuck in and was sitting on the edge of his bed.
“…” Looked like amnesia.
Dai Linxuan calmly returned to the bathroom, wrapped a bathrobe properly, then came out. “Picked the lock?”
Lai Li said, “Spare key.”
Dai Linxuan bent to grab his phone, intending to play last night’s recording for him. But as soon as he touched it, Lai Li gripped his waist and flung him onto the bed.
Again.
Dai Linxuan’s brows and eyes tinted with faint weariness and annoyance; he didn’t want to say another word. He’d just opened last night’s voice message to play it when Lai Li swatted the phone off the bed with a thud.
Dai Linxuan frowned. “Lai Li?”
Only up close did he notice the terrifying red veins in Lai Li’s eyes, the rims reddened from an all-nighter.
So shaken by a spanking?
But Dai Linxuan couldn’t think of a better way to punish. Slapping the face hurt feelings too much, the body not satisfying enough, tools too violent—spanking was just right.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you.” Lai Li stared down at him condescendingly. “I didn’t black out. I remember everything.”
So it wasn’t that he blacked out every time he got drunk.
“What am I disappointed about? Good that you remember.” Dai Linxuan felt like Lai Li hadn’t listened to a word he’d said. He pointed at the door. “This is your last chance—get out.”
Lai Li didn’t move.
Dai Linxuan waited ten seconds, his patience completely exhausted. “Doesn’t your butt hurt anymore? Then let’s do something else.”
Out of nowhere, Lai Li spoke up. “I have a camera. I’ve been looking for it for a long time and can’t find it.”
Dai Linxuan froze mid-motion but didn’t say anything.
Lai Li watched Dai Linxuan’s expression intently. “Bro, do you know where it is?”
Dai Linxuan released Lai Li, letting his arm drop into the bedding. He answered calmly, “It’s with me.”
Lai Li asked, “Why is it with you?”
Dai Linxuan narrowed his eyes, as if recalling. “Do you remember the two days before I left the country—”
Lai Li said, “It was your birthday.”
“. . . Yeah.” Dai Linxuan continued, “We went to a vacation manor. We were hiking during the day, so you brought your camera to take some photos. That night when we got back, you got drunk . . . The next day when we left, you forgot to pack the camera, so I put it in my bag, planning to give it back to you at home. Later, I forgot about it too and accidentally took it with me—bag and all—when I went abroad.”
He apologized without any sincerity. “I didn’t know you cared about it so much. You never asked me about it either.”
Lai Li looked at him for a moment before stating, “On your birthday, it was just the two of us.”
As the most favored youngest member of the Dai Family, every year Dai Linxuan held a birthday banquet or not was recorded clearly in the news and papers—anyone could check.
Dai Linxuan’s twenty-eighth birthday was the first time in his life he hadn’t held one. The reason given was that he didn’t want extravagance and waste, aligning with policies on environmental conservation and thrift.
Dai Linxuan lowered his eyes and hummed in acknowledgment.
Lai Li unconsciously clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.
—Dai Linxuan was lying to him, or at least hiding something.
Lai Li knew himself well. If the camera was a recording device, he absolutely wouldn’t have gotten drunk while carrying it, let alone let it fall into anyone else’s hands besides his own.
Either Dai Linxuan was making up nonsense, or Dai Linxuan mistakenly thought he’d gotten drunk that day.
Lai Li leaned toward the latter. After all, Dai Linxuan didn’t know he “had a problem,” and making up lies would be easy to see through.
So, the only thing that could reasonably make Dai Linxuan think he didn’t remember—and thus hide it—was what happened after he “got drunk” that day—
A ridiculous thought suddenly popped into Lai Li’s mind. He took a deep breath and exhaled softly. “Bro, did we . . .”
Before he could finish, Dai Linxuan grabbed Lai Li’s arm and flung him into the bedding beside him.
“Lai Li, don’t take what I said last night as a joke.” Dai Linxuan got out of bed, his voice laced with coldness. “I’m very busy lately. I don’t have time to mess around with you.”
Dai Linxuan adjusted his bathrobe and left the bedroom without looking back.
Some faint sounds came from outside. The apartment door opened, and Lai Li tensed, just about to get up when he heard voices at the entryway—muffled, probably someone delivering fresh clothes.
The door closed again soon after. Dai Linxuan headed toward the guest bathroom, his slippers tapping against the floor with dull “tap, tap” sounds through the wall. Each step synced with Lai Li’s heartbeat, stirring ripples of palpitation and repression.
A buzz came from the pocket against his thigh.
Lai Li slowly unclenched his fists, revealing crescent-shaped blood marks in his palms.
An email from an unknown address had arrived on his phone, with an attachment.
[You have to see this. You won’t regret it.]
Lai Li opened the attachment expressionlessly, and his pupils suddenly contracted—
A DNA Paternity Test Report.
