Including that recording.
The voice in the audio was worlds apart from Chu Xingxiao’s usual tone, but the investigation notes clearly stated—Chu Xingxiao had studied voice acting.
Could there really be such a coincidence in this world?
Zhou Yanxing said coldly, “Take off the wristband.”
Chu Xingxiao didn’t move.
“Why?”
“You know why.”
Bite marks didn’t fade that quickly—especially not when Chi Zhan had deliberately sunk his teeth in hard enough to leave a trace. Even if only faint marks remained now, they were more than enough.
Chu Xingxiao’s hand hovered over the wristband but hesitated, unmoving.
Zhou Yanxing leaned back in his office chair, waiting with all the patience of a hunter.
The lounge door had been left ajar, never fully shut. At first, Chi Zhan had been on the verge of dozing off, but the moment Chu Xingxiao’s voice reached his ears, confusion took hold. Why bring Chu Xingxiao to the office for a check-up?
Only after hearing this exchange did Chi Zhan suddenly realize Zhou Yanxing’s true intent.
…Could Zhou Yanxing actually suspect that the mysterious man on the yacht that night—was Chu Xingxiao?
How could that be possible?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chu Xingxiao finally spoke again after a long pause, his voice genuinely puzzled. Then came another light cough.
Still putting on the act. Zhou Yanxing sneered inwardly. Fine—let’s see how long you can keep up the pretense. Let’s show Chi Zhan exactly what kind of manipulative little creature you really are.
Seconds ticked by. Chu Xingxiao still didn’t move. The standoff dragged on, until—
Cen Chi returned.
“I had someone bring over a few packs of cold medicine,” Cen Chi said gently. “Chronic coughing might point to heat in the lungs. This should help—”
“It’s time. Give me the thermometer,” Zhou Yanxing interrupted.
At that, Chu Xingxiao seemed to exhale in relief. He bent his head and handed over the thermometer to Cen Chi.
Cen Chi accepted it with one hand—while the other deftly clasped Chu Xingxiao’s wrist. Before he could react, the wristband was slipped off.
A classic misdirection.
Chu Xingxiao clearly hadn’t expected that. Even less did he anticipate that this seemingly mild-mannered doctor was in cahoots with Zhou Yanxing.
“Deception’s not exactly the most admirable tactic,” Cen Chi said with a polite smile. But the moment his gaze dropped to Chu Xingxiao’s exposed wrist, he froze.
Beneath where the band had hidden lay a tattoo.
A butterfly entwined with silk ribbon, fluttering among blossoms.
Nothing else.
Or rather—even if there had been other marks, they were long gone or too faint to notice.
“I told you—I don’t know what you’re all talking about.”
“……”
After a long silence, Zhou Yanxing said coolly, “You’ve certainly exceeded my expectations.”
Chu Xingxiao didn’t respond.
“Well, if this was all a misunderstanding,” Cen Chi said, stepping in with a calm tone, “let’s all sit down. You’ve got a slight fever—it’d be best if you went home and rested early.” He handed the wristband back to Chu Xingxiao, who turned it over in his fingers, then turned his head to cough a few more times.
He’d technically won—but for some reason, he felt incredibly uneasy.
He quickly brushed off the discomfort like a stray feather and let a triumphant smile curl his lips.
“Got it. Thanks for the concern.”
Chu Xingxiao stood, preparing to leave. Cen Chi called after him and handed over the packet of medicine.
“Don’t forget to take this.”
“Okay,” Chu Xingxiao replied tersely. He adjusted his scarf, then suddenly asked, “It was Secretary Chi who told you about my cold, wasn’t it? After all… this scarf was a gift from him. Really warm.”
With that veiled jab, Chu Xingxiao exited the office. His smile gradually faded—something about that whole interaction felt… off. Especially that doctor.
Men were born with a sixth sense for romantic rivals. Chu Xingxiao could tell the moment he’d mentioned the scarf, the doctor’s gaze had turned glacial.
Clearly not so innocent when it came to Chi Zhan.
Was he the one who sent Chi Zhan that keyboard? Could he be the “second person” Chi Zhan had mentioned?
He didn’t quite fit the image in his mind, but… They definitely shared the same intentions.
More importantly, the doctor and Zhou Yanxing clearly knew each other—and not just casually. That only made it all the more suspicious.
Was this a case of unrequited love for his friend’s lover?
But then Chi Zhan had said—he wanted him to pretend to be his boyfriend. What on earth had gone down between those two?
The more Chu Xingxiao thought about it, the itchier his heart felt—like a kitten clawing around inside his chest. He just wanted to track down Chi Zhan and make him explain, once and for all, what kind of relationship he had with Zhou Yanxing.
But he couldn’t.
So he just kept spiraling.
Frustrated, Chu Xingxiao opened Chi Zhan’s chat. He wanted to thank him—but words felt too shallow, too stiff. Better to wait until they walked home together tonight and thank him in person.
Maybe he could prepare a little return gift too.
His gege clearly loved gaming. That’s why he’d chosen such a thoughtful gift. But a keyboard had already been given—sending another would just be redundant.
A gaming computer, on the other hand… that felt too over-the-top.
Too conspicuous.
Gifting was tricky. It couldn’t be too expensive, but it had to show sincerity.
As he walked, Chu Xingxiao reached a quiet corner. It was an out-of-the-way spot, not often used—perfect for private calls. He sat on the stairs against the wall, long legs bent, and dialed a number.
Beep… beep… beep… beep…
An agonizingly long prelude.
Chu Xingxiao was used to this. You couldn’t just text this guy—he could go a whole week without even glancing at his phone. Even calls often went unanswered because the thing was always on silent.
This time didn’t seem any different.
In today’s world, people who ignored their phones were practically extinct. He was one of the last.
Like some hermit from a cave a few thousand years ago.
Chu Xingxiao was just about to hang up—when the call connected.
“You actually picked up?” he said, clearly shocked. “Guess I really caught you at the right time today.”
On the other end came a voice like frost—cold and distant, like wind off a snow-capped mountain. The chill hit the moment you heard it.
“What is it?”
“That limited-edition WT commemorative gift box,” Chu Xingxiao cut straight to the chase. “The one that comes with the console—do you still have a spot?”
