"Good morning, Vice President."
Looking intrigued at the two seemingly close men before her, Ye Zi remained unmoved by her boss's cold expression. At home, Lucky always had this sullen, unappealing look whenever they made a mistake; she'd seen it all before. This situation was far more interesting—her first time seeing real gay men.
Well, actually, it's quite... pleasing to the eye to put two handsome guys together.
Seeing right through what this stupid woman was thinking, Pei Zaiyu disgustedly shook off Fang Weiyang's hand, his eyes narrowing with gritted teeth. "Vice President Fang, come in here for a moment. I have something to discuss with you."
Damn it, he had never hated being used by his friend as much as he did now. It was all this woman's fault!
Fang Weiyang looked embarrassed. Oh no! He had forgotten that this woman and the tomboy were close friends. Now he was doomed. The tomboy would definitely think he was a sissy.
Oh... what a run of bad luck! I'm so frustrated I could cry.
"Vice President, the General Manager is waiting for you."
Ye Zi's ambiguous reminder and "I understand, I support you" expression made Fang Weiyang realize even more that he had no hope of turning things around. Sigh, there's still that villain Pei waiting inside... sigh...
Dejected, Fang Weiyang strode into the general manager's office. The first thing he saw was Pei Zaiyu's dazzlingly white teeth. A chill ran through him, and he quickly opened his mouth—
“Pei…”
Bang! The door slammed shut.
※※※
He knew who she was.
After Ye Zi worked for him for a week.
That noon, he suddenly craved the ramen from that time-honored restaurant two blocks away, but an urgent business call kept him busy, so he sent Ye Zi to buy it. When she returned, it was raining, and her clothes and hair were soaked. She took shelter in the small meeting room, took off her hair, tilted her head slightly, and gently combed it with her fingers, waiting for it to dry. Meanwhile, after satisfying himself, he wanted a cup of coffee. Stepping out of his office, he unexpectedly caught sight of her graceful profile, and froze.
The troubles that had plagued him for days were suddenly resolved. He was overjoyed to connect the loneliness in her eyes that day with the profile that had haunted his dreams, and he remembered that night seven years ago...
※※※
"Here's the money you wanted." He took her back to his residence and immediately wrote a check for 300,000.
His feelings that night were complex. The pity and tenderness he felt upon first seeing her still lingered, but for some reason, a sense of anger had crept in—anger that she had sold herself for money, while he needed money to possess her. This filled him with self-loathing, but what angered him even more was realizing that the reason he had hurt her was because of jealousy…
Yes, he was jealous!
They are clearly the same lonely souls, so why can she so confidently sacrifice everything for the one she loves, and do it so calmly and composedly, while he cannot?
“I only need 210,000.” After looking at the check, she handed it back to him, her attitude firm and composed. “I’m not a prostitute, I just need 210,000.”
"You?!" he exclaimed angrily, almost wanting to utter insults at her, but in the end he couldn't bear to. He took back the check, wrote out a new one, and handed it to her for 210,000.
As if the situation were already settled, a faint smile, both sorrowful and joyful, even bloomed on her lips, so beautiful it dazzled him. He couldn't help but step forward and reach out to touch that smiling face. She didn't move, letting him do as he pleased, until he tried to kiss her, at which point she hastily retreated.
“I… want to take a shower,” she said.
So he told her to take a bath, and the thought of her using his bathtub, his shampoo, his shower gel, and even wearing his bathrobe sent a shiver down his spine.
This dizziness far surpassed the shock he had experienced when he hastily fled back from Switzerland. After all, the shock was initially unacceptable to him, but upon reflection, it seemed perfectly natural. This realization, however, brought a sense of delightful satisfaction. Had he fallen in love too?
Sure enough, when she put his knee-length bathrobe on as a long robe, clutching the oversized V-neck, and appeared before him delicately and fearlessly, his body immediately became excited like that of a naive young man. He almost impulsively wanted to rush forward and fiercely mash her into his own flesh and blood, never letting anyone else see her alluring beauty, but he restrained himself.
A warning seemed to whisper in his mind that the story had more to come. He didn't want to frighten her, so he used the excuse of taking a shower, actually hoping to calm the turmoil within him so he could treat her gently, so... she could forget their transaction and have a good beginning, a good future...
Just before he came out of the bathroom, he heard a pleasant ringtone, the final section of Vivaldi's "Sicilian Dance." It was her mobile phone ringing, because he heard her exclaim in surprise when she answered.
In that moment, he realized it was all over. She no longer needed his money, and naturally, she wouldn't want him either. There would be no beginning or future for them. He regretted not having... but then he despised his own thoughts. After struggling for a long time, he opened the door and walked out.
As he expected, she had changed back into her own clothes and stood in front of the door, struggling with the choice between leaving without saying goodbye and facing him again. Seeing that she hadn't left, he breathed a sigh of relief and thought to himself with a self-deprecating smile that perhaps his impression on her wasn't too bad after all.
Upon seeing him, her face flushed red, and she didn't know what to say. After a moment of silent staring at each other, he spoke: "You should leave."
She looked at him, her fair face showing respect. "Thank you," she said, bowing deeply before leaving.
He returned to the bedside and found the no-longer-needed check on the low cabinet. He figured she must have gotten the money from someone else, someone who wouldn't ask her for her body in return.
He sat on the edge of the bed lost in thought for who knows how long, when the sudden ringing of the doorbell startled him back to reality. He went to open the door and was surprised to see her return, her face still bearing fresh tear stains.
"Do you still want me?" she asked, her voice filled with a captivating tenderness.
Yes! How could I not want it?
You can't blame him for taking advantage of her vulnerability. Perhaps the ecstasy of regaining what he had lost clouded his judgment, or perhaps he had already lost his heart when he saw her wandering like a lost soul outside the pub.
He pulled her into his arms, answering her with actions, pressing his lips to hers urgently yet tenderly, sucking and lingering, wanting to dispel the sorrow in her heart and share his warmth with her.
Finally, when her lips were no longer cold, she passionately opened them to allow him to penetrate her. Everything spiraled out of control, the increasingly frenzied passion driving him almost mad, and the ever-increasing lust ultimately consumed them both...
When kisses and caresses could not alleviate the loneliness and thirst in his heart, he carried her to the bed and reverently removed their restraints. For a moment, she opened her tightly closed eyes, stared at his eyes with confusion and helplessness, and shed crystal tears. He trembled slightly with nervousness, thinking that she regretted it or wanted to beg him to stop, but the next second, she climbed up his neck and hugged him tightly.
He wasn't a saint; he couldn't, in this situation, question why she had returned, or for whom those tears were shed. He didn't ask; he simply followed her choice, devoutly and purely…
Afterwards, she dragged her aching body to take a shower, while he, overwhelmed with mixed emotions, stared at the bloodstains on the sheets. She wasn't a promiscuous girl; he thought she knew that, but… she wouldn't let go, insisting on having her. But this virginity—was it meant for her future husband or her beloved lover? Why did she give it to him, a stranger she'd only met once…?
"I've prepared water for you."
After her bath, she put on his bathrobe again, still looking as graceful as ever.
"Mmm," he replied, walking past her naked, but what he really wanted was her promise—a promise not to leave quietly...
No one knows what kind of fear and unease he felt while taking a bath. Several times, he wanted to open the door to make sure she was still there, but his outstretched hand—could not.
Finally, when he ended this inhuman torture, his hands trembling, he opened the door. Overwhelmed with joy, he watched her comb her hair with fascination, just as he had at that moment, feeling so happy that he couldn't speak for a long time...