Chapter 45: Confession

Although he felt a sense of relief in his heart upon seeing Fu Huixu and Duan Zhao separated, Ji Zhi quickly realized, upon meeting Duan Zhao’s gaze, that he had missed his last chance to escape.

Ji Zhi’s body stiffened. He had no idea what he should say at that moment.

Duan Zhao didn’t ask a single question. He simply gripped Ji Zhi’s wrist and left the room.

To avoid being seen by the other guests at the banquet, the two of them slipped out the back door and headed straight to the parking lot.

All the way there, Ji Zhi racked his brain wondering what Duan Zhao might ask and how he should explain himself. By the time he snapped out of it, they were already sitting in the car.

As the vehicle glided smoothly along the road, Duan Zhao remained silent beside him. He kept his head down, staring at his phone. The quiet in the car only made Ji Zhi more and more on edge.

This unease grew especially acute when Ji Zhi noticed that the passing scenery didn’t look like the route to school. After they passed an intersection and turned onto a road heading completely in the opposite direction, he finally couldn’t hold back any longer. “This doesn’t seem like the way to school…”

Duan Zhao didn’t look at him. “We’ll head back to school after we sort this out. I’ll handle explaining your overnight absence to them.”

“For now, we’re going somewhere else.”

He had no desire to return to the house near school, so he directed the driver to the nearest property from the banquet venue.

Ji Zhi: !!!

This was far from good news in Ji Zhi’s ears.

He had already realized that this matter wouldn’t just blow over. The other man had likely already set people to investigate him.

After a brief silence, Ji Zhi finally spoke up. “The thing between me and Fu Huixu…”

“There is some connection between us…”

He understood the principle that confession brings leniency. He just hoped Duan Zhao would remember that too.

Duan Zhao’s gaze finally shifted from his phone screen to Ji Zhi. He said nothing, but Ji Zhi knew it was a signal to continue.

He hesitated for a moment before pressing on.

Since Duan Zhao might easily uncover Jiang Yaolin’s existence—or even check his phone—Ji Zhi decided to come clean about Jiang Yaolin as well.

Ji Zhi carefully chose his words as he explained how, during summer break, he’d been short on cash and had streamed on another platform, where he’d gotten to know Fu Huixu and Jiang Yaolin. He figured that even if Duan Zhao investigated, it would be hard to dig up their chat logs. For the sake of his own physical well-being and Duan Zhao’s mental health, he chose to skip those details.

Though his voice grew quieter as he spoke, the enclosed space of the car carried it clearly to Duan Zhao.

All the while, he stole glances at Duan Zhao’s expression.

Duan Zhao remained silent throughout, his straight lips the only hint of his emotions.

Even after Ji Zhi finished speaking, Duan Zhao didn’t respond right away. Ji Zhi began to wonder if time itself had frozen—why else would Duan Zhao seem so perfectly still, from his expression to his movements? It unnerved him far more than outright rage would have.

After what felt like an eternity, Duan Zhao’s voice finally broke the silence. “Since you’ve already met them, what else did you do with the other two besides kissing?”

Ji Zhi: “…”

He felt like he’d completely guessed the wrong question.

“There was nothing else…”

It sounded like an excuse, but this time it was the absolute truth. He hadn’t spent much time with the other two to begin with, and he’d always been on high alert, so nothing more had happened.

Duan Zhao: “Is that so?”

He could feel the thin thread of his rationality fraying once more.

Earlier, realizing a fight might break out, Duan Zhao had called over the banquet host to have Fu Huixu escorted away. He’d forced himself to come up with a solution. Fu Zhen would probably arrive soon after getting the news. Duan Zhao had already figured out how to explain things to him, but his arrival would inevitably interrupt their time alone.

Duan Zhao had originally planned to investigate Ji Zhi directly, but Ji Zhi had confessed on his own instead.

His emotions were a tangled mess.

On one hand, a strange flicker of relief stirred within him—Ji Zhi had chosen to open up to him. That fragile, hasty trust was like a sliver of light piercing through the gloom, tempting him to cling to it and believe the situation hadn’t spiraled into utter chaos.

But the next instant, Ji Zhi’s words unleashed a surging undercurrent that swallowed that light whole.

Another platform. Another Top Fan…

Duan Zhao’s mind instinctively latched onto the keywords. He wanted to assess the truth in Ji Zhi’s words, but jealousy burned through his reason like wildfire.

The other name Ji Zhi mentioned felt vaguely familiar, but Duan Zhao could barely string his thoughts together anymore.

During the silence, he forced himself not to dwell on it and to steady his emotions first. He tried several times but failed.

Ji Zhi could hear the skepticism in Duan Zhao’s tone. He realized his credibility in the other man’s eyes was hanging by a thread.

Duan Zhao wouldn’t… check again, would he?

Remembering the previous inspection, Ji Zhi tensed up immediately. The sensation of being thoroughly examined lingered in his mouth.

He wanted to say something, but Duan Zhao’s fingertips had already settled on his waist.

Though the pads of his fingers carried a slight warmth, the unfamiliar temperature of another person’s body still made Ji Zhi shiver faintly.

Duan Zhao didn’t linger there. With undeniable force, he began undoing the buttons of Ji Zhi’s shirt one by one.

The faint click of cool metal buttons slipping from their holes echoed endlessly in the deathly still car, hammering at Ji Zhi’s taut nerves.

Ji Zhi instinctively wanted to curl up, but his wrist was pinned down by Duan Zhao’s other hand, pressed firmly into the soft leather seat. He couldn’t move an inch.

“Don’t move.”

Duan Zhao’s voice was low and steady, betraying no emotional fluctuation—as if he were conducting a meticulous, uninterrupted scientific verification. His gaze swept over Ji Zhi like the most precise scanner, inching across the newly exposed, warm skin as the shirt parted.

The sudden brush of cool air against his heated chest raised a faint layer of goosebumps. Ji Zhi turned his head away in embarrassment, his eyelashes fluttering wildly. His cheeks and neck flushed deep red, but he didn’t dare struggle further.

He realized what Duan Zhao intended. Since he couldn’t stop it, Ji Zhi thought that going along might make it end sooner.

With that in mind, his shame eased a little. He forced himself to relax his body.

Duan Zhao noticed, but it did little to improve his mood. Instead, he couldn’t help wondering if Ji Zhi acted this open in front of others too.

Duan Zhao’s fingertips trailed slowly over the center of Ji Zhi’s collarbone, as if checking whether anyone else had lingered there, kissed it, left another person’s mark.

In truth, he’d already seen Ji Zhi’s body when he’d changed clothes earlier. But now, with his thoughts in turmoil, only this could barely soothe his agitation.

Ji Zhi felt Duan Zhao’s hands continue downward, gliding over the gentle rises of his chest. When they reached his heart and felt the wild, erratic pounding beneath, they pressed down—not too hard, not too soft—sending a strange tingle of numbness and an indescribable shame through him.

Ji Zhi finally couldn’t hold back a sound, his voice trembling slightly. “There’s definitely nothing here…”

His ear tips burned as if they might drip blood. He had no idea why Duan Zhao would check there.

Who would even be interested in that spot?

Duan Zhao ignored him. His palm slid warmly over the subtly undulating plane of Ji Zhi’s waist and abdomen, feeling the muscles tense and quiver under his touch. His fingertips deliberately lingered in the delicate, sensitive hollows of his waist, pressing and kneading repeatedly. It forced Ji Zhi’s body to twitch involuntarily, like a fish compelled to bare its softest underbelly, with nowhere to hide.

The inspection didn’t stop. That hand, with its unyielding strength, ventured lower, slipping into the edge of his waistband. The cool cufflink on his wrist grazed the feverish skin by accident, sparking another intense shiver.

Ji Zhi simply squeezed his eyes shut, telling himself to endure it. It was better than getting hit.

But when he realized his other senses sharpened with his eyes closed, he opened them again, deciding a beating might be preferable—at least it would be over quickly.

He endured as best he could. But when he felt that hand sliding all the way down to his pants, as if the next moment it would breach the final barrier and verify whether the deepest parts remained untouched, Ji Zhi’s pupils contracted in instinctive alarm. Why wasn’t he checking the front? Why assume the back had been touched?

He couldn’t accept an inspection there either, but it was still better than the back…

That wasn’t the point anymore. As the danger crept perilously close to his rear, the previously compliant Ji Zhi finally thrashed in earnest. The expensive leather seat creaked dully under his frantic movements.

If not for Duan Zhao’s hand still pinning his wrist, Ji Zhi probably would have tumbled right off the seat.

He kept his wits about him, aware that the driver behind the partition was Duan Zhao’s man. He didn’t waste breath crying for help but looked straight at Duan Zhao instead.

“Really, nothing happened… I swear…”

“It’s true… I know it better than anyone…”

This time, there was no acting—just raw sincerity. He wished he could etch “Believe me” into his eyes for Duan Zhao to see clearly and let him go.

Duan Zhao’s breathing grew heavier, but it stemmed from all his forced composure twisting into a bowstring pulled to its breaking point.

He desperately wanted to ask why Ji Zhi would swear to it right now if nothing had happened—but he couldn’t get the words out. He just needed to check, and fast.

After all, he could no longer take Ji Zhi’s words at face value.

He leaned down, his nose nearly brushing Ji Zhi’s neck, but pressed down even harder to quash the last of his struggles completely.

After realizing that his words had no chance of stopping Duan Zhao, Ji Zhi grew even more anxious. “Duan Zhao, I’m a straight guy—how could I possibly get with another man?!”