“You think so too? Judging by the look on your face just now, you seemed to agree with what he said.”
Chi Zhan immediately denied it, of course.
Zhou Yanxing let out a cold snort, his expression unreadable, before stepping aside to make room.
“Come in.”
Zhou Yanxing’s room had large windows facing the sun. Standing by them, one could take in an unobstructed view of the sea. Even in winter, the sunlight was clear and warm as it fell across the room—pleasant and comforting.
He pressed the service bell and ordered some food.
“The bedroom outside is yours.”
A short while later, the food was delivered—char siu buns, shrimp dumplings, siu mai, steamed ribs, sticky rice chicken, and water chestnut cake. The aroma was mouthwatering.
“Have a bite or two. You won’t be eating much later tonight.”
…For some reason, Zhou Yanxing suddenly being this considerate made his skin crawl.
They sat down at the dining table. Zhou Yanxing ate quickly, while Chi Zhan took his time. By the time Zhou was finished, Chi still had three char siu buns and two siu mai left on his plate.
Chi Zhan always ate with meticulous care. His stylist had deliberately tousled his hair into soft waves, and his long lashes caught the sunlight, casting a golden tint. His side profile was gentle yet sharply defined.
“By the way, President Zhou, the entertainment division is planning an idol show. The proposal and budget sheet have already been sent to you.”
He’d rarely eaten alone with Zhou Yanxing before, and such quiet moments between them were rarer still. It felt a bit awkward, so he racked his brain for a work-related topic.
“I’ve seen it. No issues,” Zhou replied offhandedly.
“…Okay.”
Chi Zhan went back to quietly eating his char siu bun.
He always took small bites, puffing out his cheek slightly when he chewed—like a hamster hoarding food.
“Did you finish all the chicken soup?” Zhou Yanxing asked suddenly, eyes fixed on Chi.
Chi Zhan felt like a subordinate under inspection. He instinctively put down his chopsticks and answered reflexively.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
Zhou raised an eyebrow.
“…Mm.”
He was feeling extremely guilty.
In truth, over the past few days, he really couldn’t stomach it anymore. The chicken soup came in massive containers—generous to a fault. At first it had been delicious, but eventually he just couldn’t take it. He’d ended up giving Tao Ran a few bowls.
Tao Ran had raved about it, praising the flavor like it was divine nectar. He was genuinely puzzled how Chi Zhan could be living such a luxurious life that he’d grown tired of something so good.
To that, Chi Zhan had only one thing to say: human joys and sorrows are never truly shared.
“You’re lying to me.” Zhou said, tone sharp, not even phrased as a question.
Chi Zhan’s whole body tensed in alarm.
Wait—he actually figured it out?! But how?
Zhou’s gaze swept over him and landed on his wrist. He clicked his tongue.
“With all that tonic, you’re still this skinny.”
“……”
Chi Zhan nearly choked on his own breath.
Zhou Yanxing’s words turned out to be prophetic. After that meal, he didn’t get another bite for the rest of the evening.
The banquet’s true purpose was a business gathering. As soon as Zhou Yanxing entered, he became the center of attention—thanks to a high-profile investment in gold that had recently made headlines. Chi Zhan followed him around, navigating various potential partners.
Chi was a fresh face, attending as Zhou Yanxing’s companion, and his striking looks naturally drew attention. He drank glass after glass, making rounds through the entire room.
By the time the event neared its end and the lights dimmed for the ball to begin, he was already lightheaded.
Then came the opening dance.
This was the highlight of Bai Gongzi’s entire banquet.
There was no doubt he’d be inviting Zhou Yanxing.
Chi Zhan’s head was spinning. He mumbled something to Zhou before heading to the restroom to splash cold water on his face.
But the scent in the restroom was overpowering—too much incense, making him even dizzier. He had to brace himself against the sink to steady his footing.
He thought he heard the door open faintly—yet no footsteps followed.
…Probably just his imagination. Too much to drink.
The water stopped. Chi Zhan kept his eyes shut as he wiped his face, but in the next moment, hot breath grazed his ear, and a hand suddenly covered his eyes.
Everything went dark.
The cool droplets on his skin clashed sharply with the heat of the hand covering him.
“—Don’t move.”
The voice was deliberately low—husky, deep, and completely unfamiliar.
With alcohol clouding his mind, Chi Zhan’s reactions were a bit sluggish. It took him a few seconds before instinct kicked in. He lifted his elbow and drove it back toward the person’s chest.
Despite his delayed response, his move was fast, precise, and forceful—difficult for most to dodge. But the other reacted with lightning speed, immediately seizing his wrist. With one hand alone, they pinned him in place. No matter how Chi Zhan struggled, he couldn’t break free.
Then a firm hand on his shoulder shoved him back—into one of the stalls.
***
Chi Zhan’s shoulders hit the cold tiled wall. The chill shocked some clarity back into him. He tried to focus on the voice, to discern the intruder’s identity, but it had been lowered too much—no discernible pitch or accent.
Was it a stranger… or someone he knew?
What did they want from him?
The hand covering his eyes rested there lightly—almost casually—just enough to prevent him from seeing. But the grip on his wrist hadn’t relaxed at all. Chi Zhan fought back with all his might, only to end up panting, exhausted. It was useless.
…With this kind of strength, this was no ordinary thug.
Under normal circumstances, the shrewd and capable Secretary Chi would’ve already considered a dozen possibilities. In the world of ruthless business dealings, malicious tactics weren’t unheard of—this could very well be one of them.
“You’re—mmph!”
He had just opened his mouth to try probing for clues when the person abruptly covered it with a hand.
The hand over his eyes was removed. Chi Zhan turned his head instantly, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruder’s face.
If his hunch was right—if they had gone so far as to blindfold him from the start—then they were definitely worried about being recognized. That ruled out any ordinary hired muscle.
