Crap. I think gege’s mad.
Truth be told, Chu Xingxiao hadn’t planned on doing anything that night. The drinking was a result of spiraling anxiety—he’d gone overboard without even realizing it.
Alcohol had a way of magnifying the desires buried deep in one’s mind, while simultaneously casting aside all hesitation and reason.
The restless unease of his cousin’s impending transfer to Province A, the gnawing frustration that Chi Zhan would surely distance himself after learning his true identity, and the tangled mess of longing and nerves that had been building up day after day—all of it exploded the moment Chi Zhan raised his glass.
His lips were so soft. Like the cotton candy Chu Xingxiao had adored as a child—fluffy like clouds, sweet to the core. One taste wasn’t nearly enough.
He didn’t regret it.
His first kiss had to go to gege.
But now… would he still get another chance?
If only he could make that cousin of his break up on his own.
The thought crept into Chu Xingxiao’s mind out of nowhere.
If they broke up, he could swoop in—wouldn’t that be the best of both worlds?
Chu Xingxiao busied himself cleaning the living room, taking out the trash, airing out the place, spraying air freshener. Only when everything was done did he finally collapse under the covers and drift into a hazy sleep.
His dreams were full of elaborate “breakup plans.”
When the alarm started blaring, Chu Xingxiao irritably shut it off. Once. Twice. A third time. He silenced every single one, and the apartment fell quiet again. He kept sleeping.
By the time he woke up and glanced at the clock—10:30.
He jolted upright. The sofa had been uncomfortable all night, and the blanket had long since fallen to the floor. No wonder he felt chilled to the bone. He’d planned to go out and buy breakfast… but had somehow slept right through the morning!
He dashed to the bedroom, intending to wake Chi Zhan—only to find the room empty.
Chi Zhan was gone.
“……”
Shit. He really is mad.
The realization hit hard.
What now… can I still coax him back?
“Good morning, Secretary Chi.”
“Secretary Chi, you’re back! Thank god.”
“You’re finally back, Secretary Chi—we missed you like crazy!”
When Secretary Chi returned to the office, he was greeted with open arms. Nearly everyone who saw him looked on the verge of tears, as though they were ready to put him up on an altar.
“What happened?”
Xiao Wang, who’d once gone on a business trip with him, felt especially close and answered immediately.
“Secretary Chi, while you were away, Demon King Zhou went on another rampage. His temper’s blown through the roof—we have to check and double-check every single report a dozen times before we dare let President Zhou see it.”
“Hasn’t he always been like that?” Chi Zhan said with a chuckle.
“No, this is different.” Xiao Wang’s face was grim. “I don’t know what happened, but it’s like someone stole his wife or something. He’s not just mad—he’s lashing out under the flimsiest pretext!”
There was more than a little exaggeration in Xiao Wang’s words, so Chi Zhan made no comment. He’d just returned, and there was a mountain of work to catch up on. He opened his laptop and began coordinating with several colleagues. After a few days away, he was a little rusty on the current workflow.
As he focused on his tasks, a sudden burst of commotion drew his attention. He glanced at the clock—it was time for the morning meeting.
Others had been handling meeting minutes in his absence. As Chi Zhan closed his laptop, he suddenly remembered something.
He had… forgotten to make Zhou Yanxing’s coffee.
Ever since starting the job, Zhou Yanxing had followed a strict routine—every morning, without fail, he drank a cup of coffee. But today, Chi Zhan had woken up late and gotten caught up in a thousand things. The task had completely slipped his mind.
Chi Zhan shot to his feet. A quick glance showed that Zhou Yanxing’s office was already empty, but his coffee cup still sat on the desk.
Had no one made it for him?
Chi Zhan frowned slightly and checked his watch, hoping it wasn’t too late.
He quickly prepared a cup, using the usual ratio of milk and sugar, then rushed to the conference room. The senior execs had all arrived. There was one minute left before the meeting began. Zhou Yanxing was speaking to someone beside him.
Sweat beaded down Chi Zhan’s back. He strode briskly to Zhou Yanxing and placed the coffee at his right hand.
Zhou Yanxing didn’t look at him, continuing his conversation. Chi Zhan took his seat at the secretary’s spot and pulled up the agenda list.
Today’s meeting was a standard month-end report. December was winding down, and with the Lunar New Year approaching, company affairs had begun piling up.
As the meeting started, executives gave their reports one by one. Chi Zhan listened intently, taking detailed notes.
As usual, Zhou Yanxing didn’t interrupt much during the reports, only occasionally interjecting with a question. Chi Zhan’s gaze flicked across his profile—and for some reason, today… Zhou Yanxing looked especially striking.
From his hairstyle to his outfit, there’d been subtle changes.
Normally, Zhou Yanxing wore black dress shirts to work. Today, he had on a deep wine-red shirt under a black suit, with the top few buttons undone. A modest, elegant lapel pin sat on his chest, adding an understated touch of luxury. He exuded his usual composure, but there was something… different about him.
His hair was usually slicked back, projecting a sharp, icy aura. But today, his bangs were casually tousled, with a few strands falling over his brow—softening his features ever so slightly.
That usual frosty detachment had faded. In its place was something a little more… flamboyant.
Still, why the sudden style shift?
Chi Zhan recalled a saying:
When a man suddenly changes his style, he’s either cheating—or something drastic has happened in his life.
“……”
President Zhou’s love life hadn’t even gotten on the rails yet—what rails was he supposed to derail from?
And nothing in his life seemed to warrant any “drastic changes,” either. The company was running smoothly, far from bankruptcy, and already a giant in Province A. There wasn’t exactly room for dramatic leaps forward.
“…That concludes the year-end gala proposal,” the executive wrapped up, turning to look at Zhou Yanxing.
Zhou Yanxing flipped through the proposal in silence.
The room fell deathly quiet. Everyone had cold sweat beading on their foreheads. This was already the third time the proposal had been sent back for revisions. If it didn’t get approved today, their performance bonuses were on the chopping block.
Only Chi Zhan remained lost in thought—still trying to figure out what the hell was going on with Zhou Yanxing.
