Chapter 27: Amber

Their bodies pressed close, their noses mere inches apart.

Pei Zhen lowered his eyes, hearing a soft chuckle beside his ear. Han Fu had tucked his phone back into his pocket and raised his free right hand, his fingertips gently brushing the still-damp tips of the man’s hair by his cheek.

The little wolfdog had reverted back to “that voice.”

That voice that had appeared once before, in the restaurant when they’d encountered Yi Changqing—a little hoarse, not quite like him, like a bad boy’s slightly matured tone.

“Zhenzhen, don’t you think… my luck is pretty good?” he said with a smile, a bit smug.

“With Redberry’s recommendation slot in hand, I won’t have to go up against the Sixth Level Class people in the finals anymore. That means, until the PA starts in autumn, we can both take it easy, right?”

“You’ve been working pretty hard lately. How about taking next week off and going to the beach together?”

“Or, just stay home, curled up in bed, not coming out for days, how about that?”

Pei Zhen: “…”

When the little wolfdog spoke these words, his eyes were fixed solely on him the entire time.

Tender as water, as if no one else existed.

Of course, with only three people in the room, the earlier scandalously described scenario was obviously meant for whom to hear—crystal clear.

“…”

The familiar scent, the warmth of his body, the reassuring wet citrus fragrance, all mingled together in the hotel room tinged with a hint of cold sandalwood.

Pei Zhen secretly sighed, his chilled body beginning to heat up.

After all, both were already soaked, so neither had to worry about making the other even wetter. The already nearly nonexistent distance was further encroached upon by Han Fu’s presence, their noses lightly brushing together, tender and affectionate.

The man appeared to be lowering his eyes and sinking into the moment, but his heart was actually quietly beating a drum. This kind of public display of affection that completely disregarded the third person present truly… even if deliberately performed for someone to see, was for an older man unbelievably embarrassing.

…

Besides, was the little wolfdog’s strenuous declaration of sovereignty in front of someone else really meaningful?

The guy was straight. Seeing such a scene would likely only cause discomfort, make him think they were sick. Did Han Fu seriously expect that sweet, loving affection between men could sting him into jealousy and burning rage?

Impossible.

Ah…

Actually, back then, if Yi Changqing had just made things clear from the start—said he simply couldn’t accept men, could never fall for a man—then he, Pei Zhen, might indeed have been upset for a while. But he definitely wouldn’t have let love turn into hate, nor would he have been cruelly discarded entirely.

He would definitely still have treated him like any other talented newcomer in the industry, respected his wish to become a professional perfumer, continued to admire and cultivate him. Even if they couldn’t be lovers, they surely could have become decent friends or partners.

So why did he have to lie?

In the end, everyone ended up aggrieved.

As his spirits sank, his nose was nuzzled a few more times. The little wolfdog seemed to really have mind-reading powers, gently biting down at the exact moment he needed comfort most. With the soft touch of their lips, his heart instantly melted into warmth.

Suddenly, everything stopped feeling so tangled.

Because that kiss was incredibly sweet, carrying a faint, tingly, numbing little shiver. This was enough, completely enough. Other matters, anyway, regrets were too late—why bother about them anymore?

He just threw his arms straight around Han Fu’s neck.

If Yi Changqing wanted to look down on them, let him. He’d just unabashedly kiss the adorable little wolfdog he’d bought home right in his face—the one who was handsome, talented, and a future star of the industry—and be sweet with him. What could he do?

Doesn’t feel good watching? Well, too bad—watch anyway.

…

In truth, if he’d truly possessed the mature, tough demeanor of a “bad man,” Han Fu would also have wished this could have been a carefully calculated, deliberate, in-your-face display of affection.

Then he could happily kiss his lover while leisurely savoring the enemy’s ugly expression, deliciously.

However, he was still too young, lacking composure.

Pei Zhen had once complained that he was too hot-blooded and impetuous, unable to keep his cool.

Han Fu had refused to admit it before, but today, he silently acknowledged it.

He was just impatient, just couldn’t keep calm. So the current possessive crushing and biting wasn’t gentle tenderness at all, but a clear declaration of dominance. Even that sweet kiss, which at this moment wasn’t the sweet reward he’d long anticipated, was instead a fruit of victory snatched by his own skill, right in front of the enemy!

He kissed, he held, and it never felt enough. He was even a bit vexed—why hadn’t he described his relationship with Pei Zhen in more unequivocally carnal and uninhibited terms, a more vivid mingling of souls and bodies?

Mentioning the bed was nothing. He should have thrown in a few highly acrobatic positions at Yi Changqing!

Because he must make this Yi character understand.

The world had changed long ago. Right now, in Zhenzhen’s world, you truly don’t have a single chance anymore.

…

In this world, many things can deceive people.

Voices, words, expressions, and postures can all lie, but the eyes rarely do.

When Han Fu rushed up to the room, he had only been frantic with worry that Pei Zhen might be begging Yi Changqing over the qualification issue. He hadn’t thought there’d be any little flirtation or spark between them; he just couldn’t bear the thought of his treasure bowing to Belle’s evil forces.

But the moment he entered, kicked Yi Changqing down, and the man raised his head, wiped the corner of his mouth, and looked at him with ferocity—the whole world changed.

That ferocity wasn’t merely anger at being suddenly kicked by an adult male for no reason.

It was a naked, unmasked hatred, resentment, and unwillingness that a male creature harbors when looking at a love rival.

Even though afterward, Yi Changqing strove to maintain his usual indifferent and aloof expression, the sharpness in his eyes could never be concealed.

So Han Fu was also stunned. On one hand, he instinctively tried to monopolize all of Pei Zhen’s attention, terrified he’d notice the trace in Yi Changqing’s eyes. At the same time, he was baffled—

This Yi should not love Pei Zhen.

Otherwise, his actions over the years couldn’t be explained. Pei Zhen had always believed he was straight.

Yet no matter how he looked at it, in the eyes of that once conceited, self-righteous man, he indeed saw naked jealousy, unwillingness, resentment, and murkiness.

He found it utterly absurd.

This person, could he have a mental illness?

Zhenzhen was originally so good, treated him so well. Yi Changqing would probably never know that someone who had always been trying but could never squeeze into their story had once, from a distance, envied and been jealous of him so much.

He completely couldn’t understand why he hadn’t cherished Pei Zhen. In the end, he’d ignored his life or death, leaving him so thoroughly broken that he no longer dared to trust anyone easily.

Yet four years later, he suddenly had a pang of conscience?

How was that possible? What kind of person had such a bizarre train of thought?

Han Fu felt this was absolutely not okay.

Whatever mental defect he had, he must protect Zhenzhen and decisively keep him hundreds of thousands of miles away from Yi from now on! The moment he finished kissing, he directly hoisted the thoroughly kissed-dizzy man over his shoulder.

Pei Zhen gasped a few times. “You…”

Han Fu patted him. Because of the carrying position, the pat landed right on his butt. “Be good, don’t catch a cold. Let’s go home quickly.”

Pei Zhen: “…” No, I gave you free rein to show off affection, but with the triple-whammy of head-patting, lifting high, and butt-patting, how are people supposed to see me after this?

Being patted and carried obediently, the profound, gloomy CEO persona he’d painstakingly maintained for so many years collapsed in an instant. Where would he put his old face?

But in this situation, he couldn’t directly resist.

His final choice: lie there lifelessly over the little wolfdog’s shoulder, feeling that for the rest of his life… he probably wouldn’t be able to lift his head.

…

…

Back home, Han Fu immediately filled the bathtub with warm water.

The CEO soaked in a warm, bubble-filled bath. The mirror was misted with an orange-red glow. Reaching over the bath gel shelf, he picked up a golden screaming duck.

Yes, a screaming duck.

Likely a cheap knockoff of a screaming chicken, a freebie from an online bath salt order.

Since it was a little duck, when he unwrapped it, he glanced at his own little duck at home and quietly kept it.

The bathroom door creaked softly.

Pei Zhen hurriedly fussed, making sure the bubbles fully covered his body. “Come in.”

The professional bath attendant had arrived.

Yeah, he paid him, so it wasn’t excessive servitude. With that much salary each month, the only services he actually enjoyed daily were breakfast and bath assistance. Not too demanding!

As for the flashy little black briefs and the extremely pleasing young body… well, let’s call it a bonus perk.

…

Actually, washing yourself wasn’t exactly a tiring task.

But as the saying goes, it’s easy to go from frugal to extravagant. Bathtubs were truly comfortable, and once comfortable, you got too lazy to move. At such times, having someone lift your arms and legs out to wash and scrub—plus a scalp and neck massage while washing your hair—was honestly quite enjoyable and relaxing.

However, the little wolfdog usually chattered away while serving.

Today was uncharacteristic: not talking, not even humming a song.

Pei Zhen held it in for a moment. “What’s wrong?”

“Not happy.”

“Zhenzhen, when Yi Changqing said earlier that I had ulterior motives toward you, you didn’t even help defend me.”

When they’d left Ruijing Hotel, Yi Changqing had somehow chased them downstairs: “Young Master Pei, this person… you can’t just casually trust him. His motives for being around you aren’t pure. Who knows what kind of agenda he has.”

Pei Zhen, though never raising his head to look at Yi Changqing’s face, had secretly really wanted to roll his eyes, because there were just too many things wrong with that statement.

Han Fu had reacted faster, retorting on the spot: “Do you think the whole world is like you?”

Pei Zhen felt it had been quite effective. It hit the nail on the head, and Yi Changqing had gone silent afterward.

“Didn’t you already snap back at him yourself?”

“But snapping back myself… it lacks confidence,” the little wolfdog said, his fingers laced with shampoo gliding through his hair. “Next time, Zhenzhen, you have to help stand up for me. Otherwise, it makes me look so unrequited. Promise me, okay?”

Pei Zhen felt a bit dazed and nodded.

For some reason, a sudden pang of heartache. That he even had to pitifully ask for such a small dignity—had he been too neglectful of the little wolfdog usually…

No.

No! As the sugar daddy, from day one of their arrangement, he’d been quite strict with Han Fu. And from his observations, the little wolfdog, though habitually skilled at performing pitiful grievance, actually had a very strong psychological endurance!

In that previous situation, he wouldn’t have been suffering and brooding over whether his sugar daddy had backed him up.

So…

“Do you have something you need to be honest with me about?”

Han Fu froze, then his dark eyes instantly filled with little stars. “Zhenzhen, how come you’re so smart? How do you always guess before I even say anything? Can you teach me this ability someday?”

Pei Zhen: “Cut the sweet talk, get to the point!”

“Actually, there’s one more thing… Redberry’s recommendation slot wasn’t given to me casually by Lister. He said there’s a condition.”

Pei Zhen stiffened. He knew it—that annoying little mixed-blood wouldn’t be so kind!

He wasn’t going to demand Han Fu commit to Redberry later, was he? He wouldn’t let him go! Instantly, a series of images flashed in his mind: Lister as a big-tailed wolf holding a piece of cake, trying to lure away his little wolfdog.

“He said he’s giving me two weeks. I have to make my own original fragrance within one week, then put it on the market, and within the following week, I have to sell a thousand bottles. Not wholesale to stores or distributors—every single bottle sold to a customer. He’ll check the detailed retail receipts then.”

“As long as I can do it, he’ll send me the recommendation slot.”

Pei Zhen laughed in anger. “Two measly weeks, selling a thousand bottles? Isn’t this deliberately making it impossible for you?”

“He’s the young master of Redberry. How could he not know that any fragrance takes a huge amount of time from development, bottling, promotion, filing, to market launch? He expects you to have nothing in hand and launch in two weeks, then sell a thousand bottles in a week?”

“China may have 20% of the world’s population, but its fragrance market sales are only 1% of the global share! Does he think this is London, where his Redberry can just casually throw out any haphazard thing and people follow to buy it that easily?!”

Han Fu silently swallowed.

Actually, Lister might have considered this situation, because originally he had said… four hundred bottles.

The thing was, he’d gotten carried away teasing that tsundere over the phone and had straight-up retorted: “Oh-ho? Four hundred bottles? Do you think this is your Great British Empire, where you can walk ten miles without meeting half a person? Wanna try one thousand?”

Lister: “Fine, one thousand it is. Deal.”

Talk about digging your own grave. Definitely couldn’t let Zhenzhen find out.

…

Pei Zhen sighed. The screaming duck let out a series of “Quack! Quack! Quack!”

No matter how difficult or how absurd the task, since it was already agreed upon, complaining further was meaningless.

“Then let’s analyze and design a plan. How to turn an impossible mission into a possible one.”