Chi Zhan remained calm.
“There’s no need for President Zhou to worry about these things. Whoever I’m with won’t affect my work. Isn’t that enough? Now, can you let go of me?”
Zhou Yanxing’s grip wasn’t particularly strong, but it was deliberate—so well-placed that Chi Zhan couldn’t break free. He struggled, but Zhou didn’t budge an inch, leaving Chi Zhan exhausted for nothing.
In the darkness, Zhou Yanxing said nothing for a long moment.
“What do you even like about him?” he asked abruptly. “Are you just like the others—shallowly obsessed with his face?”
“What’s wrong with liking someone for their looks? He’s young, obedient, easy to be around. It’s relaxing with him. And he’s talented—he can sing and dance. That alone makes him more than enough.”
“……”
Young. Obedient. Was Chi Zhan deliberately stabbing him where it hurt?
“You’d rather get your bonus docked than break up with him. Chi Zhan, do you really like him? Look me in the eye.”
Lying is always hardest when you have to make eye contact. It’s too easy to look away or let your expression slip. Chi Zhan tried to meet Zhou Yanxing’s eyes, but the sheer intensity of his gaze made it impossible. The second their eyes met, Chi Zhan looked away.
He looked undeniably guilty.
“You’re being unreasonable. President Zhou, it’s the middle of the night. You barged into your secretary’s room to ask something like this—I really don’t understand what you mean.”
A clumsy attempt to change the subject.
Moonlight spilled in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft beam across Zhou Yanxing’s face. Half of his chiseled features faded into shadow, while the other half was sharply outlined in light—cold and striking. But his eyes… they were clouded, making it impossible for Chi Zhan to read him.
“You’re not just a secretary to me,” Zhou said bitterly. “Why do you think I’m doing this? You really don’t know?”
Of course I do.
Pretending not to understand while actually knowing full well—never an easy game to play.
But Zhou Yanxing was no fool. He saw right through it.
“Chi Zhan, you know.”
“Know… what?”
He was certain Zhou wouldn’t say it outright. The man was too proud—he was never the one to speak first. That was his way. Always scheming, always calculating. He’d never make a move until the moment was right.
It was that same patience and strategic thinking that had taken Zhou Rui Group to the top of the industry.
And Secretary Chi’s skill at playing dumb had clearly leveled up.
“You know I’m not worried about your work at all,” Zhou said with a wry smile, though there wasn’t a trace of amusement in his eyes. His fingers brushed lightly along Chi Zhan’s cheek as he murmured, “You know exactly why I’m angry. You grabbed the first person you could just to fool me—because you didn’t want to hear me say it. You thought that would make me give up. Is that it?”
His grip tightened slightly as he stared deeply at Chi Zhan. Something about his look made Chi Zhan’s heart skip—Zhou seemed on the verge of saying something earth-shattering.
Zhou raised his eyes.
“Chi Zhan, when I, Zhou Yanxing, love someone—I love them for life. It doesn’t matter who they are, or whose boyfriend they belong to. If you really think I’d give up that easily, then you don’t know me at all. Maybe it’s time you learned a little more.”
There it was—earth-shattering, indeed.
The sheer force behind those words left Chi Zhan momentarily stunned. His eyes darted away, flustered.
He hadn’t expected… Zhou would actually say it.
Even if he hadn’t come right out with the word, the implication was crystal clear. You’d have to be an idiot not to get it. And it wasn’t just “like” either—it was…
Aren’t romance targets supposed to have boundaries? What the hell, Zhou Yanxing? Saying something like “I don’t care whose boyfriend he is”?!
Where the hell is your bottom line?!
Zhou, ever composed, guided Chi Zhan’s hand to his chest. Beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, his chest was solid and burning hot.
“Listen. Every time I see you, my heart beats faster.”
Chi Zhan was completely stunned. Beneath his palm, Zhou’s heartbeat pulsed—strong and steady like a drumbeat, shaking his entire world to its core.
It was just… too direct.
Secretary Chi’s brain short-circuited. He could only stare at Zhou Yanxing, utterly speechless.
The next second, a knock came at the door.
Both men froze.
Chi Zhan jerked his hand back like he’d been shocked, snapping out of it. Zhou, by contrast, looked unbothered, his lips quirking faintly. Chi Zhan’s bathrobe had come undone; he scrambled to fix it, but his hands were a mess, his thoughts even worse. No matter how he fumbled, he couldn’t tie it properly.
Zhou finally stepped in with a sigh, tying the robe deftly in just a few movements.
“Secretary Chi,” Zhou drawled, “it seems you have a lot to learn beyond just tying neckties.”
No matter the situation, Zhou Yanxing’s flair for sarcastic jabs was ever-present. Chi Zhan coughed lightly and said diplomatically, “President Zhou, maybe you should find a place to hide? It’s a bit… awkward, you being here.”
“This is my room. How else could I have gotten in? You think I picked the lock?”
“……”
Honestly, he had thought that.
Given Zhou’s destructive capabilities when pissed off, nothing would surprise him. The last time he’d gone on a rampage, it had cost the company a pretty penny in damaged office equipment. But… who the hell had arranged for him and Zhou Yanxing to share a room without telling him?! Chi Zhan wanted nothing more than to hunt them down and beat the truth out of them.
Zhou flipped on the light. The room flooded with brightness—at the same time, his voice rang out softly beside Chi Zhan’s ear.
“Close your eyes.”
Chi Zhan obeyed instinctively. As his eyes shut, a pair of hands shielded him from the glare. His lashes swept across Zhou’s palm in a soft arc, like little fans—like they’d brushed across Zhou’s heart.
You’re taking advantage of the fact that I love you… just to torment me again and again.
Zhou thought to himself.
With the lights on, the charged, ambiguous tension between them snapped like a thread. Chi Zhan quickly stepped away, heading straight for the door—desperate to reestablish some kind of social distance.
