Chapter 38: Temptation

Ji Zhi watched as Fu Huixu’s furrowed brows relaxed slightly. Clearly, the man believed his words.

Ji Zhi let out a quiet sigh of relief in his heart. Then he pressed on relentlessly. “I didn’t block your contact. This afternoon, I was studying in the library the whole time. In between, I did tidy up my contact list a bit, so I might have accidentally deleted you then.”

“I was wondering why you hadn’t sent me any messages all afternoon. But then I remembered how busy you’ve been lately, and I didn’t dare message you and disturb you…”

Ji Zhi took off his glasses and took a proactive step forward. He took Fu Huixu’s hand and looked up at him cautiously. “I’m sorry…”

Fu Huixu said nothing as he gazed at Ji Zhi’s apologetic expression and felt the warmth radiating from his body.

Ji Zhi kept watching Fu Huixu’s face closely. When the man’s brows remained stubbornly furrowed, he began to wonder if he’d chosen the wrong approach—which was why Fu Huixu showed no reaction.

He really should try a different tactic…

Ji Zhi’s mind raced with frantic brainstorming as he pondered what to say next.

But just as he started to loosen his grip on Fu Huixu’s hand, the next second, he felt his own hand gripped tightly in return.

Ji Zhi: ?

Fu Huixu pulled him straight into his embrace.

He could feel his chest pressed flush against Fu Huixu’s. Even through the layer of clothing, he sensed the man’s heart pounding fiercely beneath—a stark contrast to the cold demeanor he usually projected.

Fu Huixu lowered his head and buried his face in the crook of Ji Zhi’s neck. His nose greedily inhaled that familiar, soothing scent—

A faint fragrance of body wash mingled with the warmer, uniquely personal aroma of his skin. It was just like the feeling he’d had the first time he’d laid eyes on Zhi Zhi.

“Don’t do it again…” His hoarse voice was muffled against Ji Zhi’s neck, carrying a faint tremor of relief that was barely perceptible, like a survivor emerging from disaster. “…I can’t take it.”

Fu Huixu knew he was prone to anxiety and possessiveness.

From a young age, his parents had drilled into him that everything he possessed belonged to the Fu Family, not to him personally. This had gradually fostered his obsessive nature. For anything he liked, he wanted to clutch it tightly in his palm, to make it belong to him alone.

After meeting Zhi Zhi, that feeling had only intensified.

The red exclamation mark and the unanswered calls had felt like a dull knife, repeatedly sawing at his nerves as he struggled to stay composed.

Maybe he should do as the butler had suggested and install tracking software on Ji Zhi’s phone. That way, he could monitor his whereabouts at all times.

Right now, holding this warm body so tangibly, feeling Ji Zhi’s pulse throbbing under his lips, he tightened his arms around that supple waist. It was as if he wanted to merge the man completely into his own flesh and blood, to fuse them into one so they could never be separated. Yet the unease and panic in his heart still refused to be fully quelled.

Ji Zhi could feel Fu Huixu’s scorching breath on his vulnerable skin, sending shivers through him. But because he felt guilty, he didn’t try to push him away like he might have before. Instead, he cautiously raised a hand, intending to pat Fu Huixu’s shoulder in comfort.

But the moment Ji Zhi’s hand lightly touched Fu Huixu’s shoulder, it acted like yet another catalyst.

Ji Zhi felt the arm around his waist tighten even more. He could even sense the muscles tensing under Fu Huixu’s clothes, which sparked an ominous premonition deep in his gut.

At the same time, Fu Huixu’s other hand firmly yet gently grasped his chin. His fingertips applied slight pressure, forcing Ji Zhi to tilt his head up and meet his gaze.

Their eyes locked suddenly, their breaths mingling at such close range.

The alarms in Ji Zhi’s mind blared at full volume. He hurriedly spoke up. “Um…”

But Fu Huixu didn’t give him a chance to finish.

A lingering wave of aftershock and deep-seated desire churned in Fu Huixu’s eyes, like an unfathomable whirlpool. Without the slightest hesitation, he dipped his head and claimed those slightly parted, rosy lips.

Ji Zhi’s pupils contracted as he realized Fu Huixu was kissing him.

Fu Huixu seemed to need this to confirm Ji Zhi’s presence, to erase all the shadows of doubt. His tongue pried open Ji Zhi’s teeth and delved inside, ravaging every corner without mercy, greedily drawing in every trace of his scent and warmth.

Ji Zhi let out a muffled whimper at the sudden assault. Instinctively, he tried to pull back, but the hand on his chin and the iron band of an arm around his waist held him fast. Fu Huixu’s kiss grew deeper, more lingering, carrying an irresistible force. Yet amid the grinding of lips and teeth, it betrayed a hidden thread of fear and the tremor of having reclaimed what was lost.

Ji Zhi had harbored some doubts when Fu Huixu claimed he’d never been in a relationship before. Now, experiencing the kiss firsthand, he believed it.

Even with his own lack of experience, as the recipient, he could tell Fu Huixu’s technique was clumsy.

Ji Zhi had no idea how long the kiss lasted. He only knew that Fu Huixu finally released his lips just before he started running out of air.

Fresh air rushed in, and the faint flush on Ji Zhi’s face gradually faded.

He instinctively glanced at Fu Huixu and noticed that the man’s furrowed brows had finally eased. Those usually cool, detached eyes now rippled like a deep pool disturbed by a stone, layers of dark, ambiguous waves spreading outward.

Fu Huixu’s breathing was still heavy, their warm breaths intertwining in the scant space between them.

Rather than releasing his hold right away, Fu Huixu used the pad of his thumb—slightly roughened by calluses—to slowly, almost erotically, rub over Ji Zhi’s lower lip, freshly ravaged.

Ji Zhi’s lips were already naturally pink, but now they were swollen and glistening from the rush of blood, quivering faintly under his fingertip with a watery sheen.

The gesture carried an intimacy and possessiveness at odds with Fu Huixu’s usual aloof demeanor. His gaze was fixed intently on that small patch of skin beneath his thumb, as if admiring a reclaimed treasure or confirming the mark left by their intense kiss.

But Ji Zhi’s attention wasn’t on Fu Huixu’s little action. He was focused on the man’s expression.

Good. It looked like the incident was finally behind them after the kiss…

Wait—no. He and Fu Huixu had kissed!

Ji Zhi’s pupils trembled.

And right then, Fu Huixu spoke again. “I’ll take responsibility for you.”

In the cafeteria, Chen Xingwen listened in shock to Ji Zhi recounting what had happened a few days earlier. If Ji Zhi hadn’t reminded him to keep it down, Chen Xingwen might have jumped out of his chair. “So you two kissed?!”

Chen Xingwen’s suddenly raised voice made Ji Zhi tense up. Though the man hadn’t named names, Ji Zhi still glanced around guiltily to make sure no one had reacted before nodding.

Chen Xingwen: “You didn’t throw up, did you?”

Ji Zhi: “No, not at all…”

At the time, shock had taken over, and Ji Zhi hadn’t even registered any disgust. By the time he’d fully come to his senses and was about to react, Fu Huixu’s words had left him dizzy and reeling.

He’d wanted to tell the man it wasn’t necessary, but Fu Huixu clearly had his mind made up.

At least the matter of deleting him from the alternate account was water under the bridge.

Fu Huixu had gone back to the company, while Ji Zhi had stuck to a routine between school and the dorm for the past few days. Only now, when both he and Chen Xingwen had some free time, had he finally gotten the chance to meet up and fill his friend in.

Chen Xingwen shot him a sympathetic look and pitying words as Ji Zhi let out an involuntary sigh. “Don’t be sad. What you lost probably wasn’t your first kiss anyway.”

Ji Zhi: ?

Chen Xingwen: “I remember when you were little and fell off the swing in the park. You must’ve kissed the ground.”

Ji Zhi: “Hearing you say that makes me feel better… Yeah, right.”

“I definitely didn’t kiss the ground…”

As the person involved, Ji Zhi still had some memory of the incident.

Chen Xingwen: “No worries. Just redefine your first kiss—only count it if it’s with the opposite sex. So yours is still intact.”

Ji Zhi: “Don’t try to comfort me. Actually, I’d already gotten over it.”

His sigh had come from thinking about Fu Huixu’s declaration of responsibility. It felt like shaking him off had just gotten a step further away.

Chen Xingwen was powerless to help with Ji Zhi’s troubles, of course. But to prevent a repeat, he created a WeChat alt account and added Ji Zhi’s alt. That way, if something similar happened again, Ji Zhi could use his account as a proxy to do the deleting.

Hearing Chen Xingwen’s solution, Ji Zhi regretted not thinking of it himself sooner.

After saying goodbye to Chen Xingwen, Ji Zhi returned to his dorm.

Fu Huixu had already messaged earlier that he’d be staying overnight at the company, so Ji Zhi took his time with his evening routine, mulling over what to do tomorrow.

Until his phone rang.

Ji Zhi hurried over to check. The screen showed an incoming call from Duan Zhao.

Maybe it was because the last few calls he’d received had all spelled trouble, but seeing Duan Zhao’s name made his eyelid twitch. He immediately racked his brain, wondering if he’d slipped up again lately.

Still, Ji Zhi quickly answered.

Duan Zhao’s voice came through, calm and measured as always. “Little Ji, how have you been lately?”

Ji Zhi: “Not bad.”

He fell silent after that.

After all, Duan Zhao wouldn’t call without some reason, big or small. The best-case scenario was probably like before—just checking if he’d thought about moving out…

As Ji Zhi pondered, Duan Zhao spoke up promptly. “I’ve got a banquet to attend this week…”

According to Duan Zhao, the banquet allowed plus-ones.

Ji Zhi picked up on the invitation, but he had zero interest in banquets—let alone attending one with Duan Zhao. He instinctively wanted to decline.

But before he could voice the refusal, Duan Zhao continued. “Grandmaster Lan Yu of the translation world will be there too.”

“If I remember right, he’s the one who compiled your department’s textbooks. The school once tried to invite him for a symposium but failed. He’s attending this banquet, so I could introduce you…”

Ji Zhi stammered, “No need… Who?!”

His words of refusal caught in his throat. He could no longer reject the offer as cleanly and decisively as he had before.

This temptation was enormous for him. After all, Ji Zhi wanted to build a lasting career in the translation industry. The chance to network with an industry titan—even if it meant leaving only a faint impression—would greatly aid his professional development.