“You’re not seriously expecting me to service you, are you?”
The look in Xue Bao Tian’s eyes was dangerously sharp. The lighter spun once between his fingers before settling into his grip like the handle of a knife. He raised a brow.
Zhang Chi wisely chose not to provoke him directly. Pulling him closer instead, he answered tactfully, “Either way works for me.”
“Either way?” Xue Bao Tian bit down on his cigarette while looking around for something suitable to use as a weapon. “Your family registry must be a damn animal encyclopedia, otherwise something like you couldn’t have been born.”
Laughing, Zhang Chi plucked the cigarette away. He couldn’t bear to throw it out, so he tucked it into his own pocket instead. Then, with obvious fondness, he planted a loud kiss on Xue Bao Tian’s lips and hugged him hard enough to pin him against the wall.
“Two Hundred, your brother-in-law’s name is Wei Hua?”
Xue Bao Tian had been about to either explode or back down, but hearing Wei Hua’s name immediately distracted him from the increasingly heated problem trapped between them. Frowning, he asked, “How do you know that?”
“Huang Song’s secretary was holding a file the whole time. While we were playing cards, I found a chance to glance at it. I saw Wei Hua’s name on it. Since I remembered you calling him ‘Dog Wei’ before, I paid extra attention.”
“What was written on it?”
“I couldn’t understand it.”
“Fuck.” Xue Bao Tian’s expression twisted viciously. “So what exactly were you paying attention to?”
A warm, dry hand slipped beneath his shirt, rubbing slowly downward along the curve of his waist. “That depends on what Master Xue is willing to teach me.”
“You threatening me?” Xue Bao Tian bent one leg upward, trying to cripple Zhang Chi. “You little brat haven’t even fully grown yet and you dare threaten me?”
Zhang Chi dodged easily and pinned him more firmly against the wall. “How would I dare threaten Master Xue? I’m just humbly asking for guidance.”
Before Xue Bao Tian could start cursing again, Zhang Chi continued persuading him. “Huang Song failed to record any compromising videos of you, so he’ll definitely use that file against you instead. Don’t you want to know what’s in it? Then you could strike back properly and slap him across the face with it. Wouldn’t that make you look impressive, Master Xue?”
When Zhang Chi deliberately lowered his voice, its perfect rasp carried a lingering intimacy like the aftermath of passion. Leaning against Xue Bao Tian’s ear, he tempted him slowly. “I couldn’t understand the file, but I took photos of it on my phone. Master Xue wants to see them?”
Xue Bao Tian’s thick lashes trembled twice. After a long silence, he patted Zhang Chi’s shoulder, asking for a little space.
Zhang Chi indulged him, stepping back half a pace and straightening up, though his hand still rested possessively against the smooth skin of that narrow waist.
Lighting another cigarette, Xue Bao Tian lowered his eyes and took two deep drags. What came out afterward sounded both helpless and bleak. “Zhang Chi, I’m really a straight man. Sleeping with you? Fine. I close my eyes and mentally recite the ‘Song of Endurance’ for a while and I can survive it. But what you’re asking for today? Absolutely not.”
“Song of Endurance?”
“‘Endure, endure, endure—the word endure has a blade hanging over its head.’” Xue Bao Tian pulled the cigarette from his lips and laughed breathlessly. “It’s fucking useful. It’s practically become my hype song now.”
Zhang Chi laughed along with him, finally withdrawing his hand from inside the shirt to rub Xue Bao Tian’s hair. “Two Hundred, sometimes you’re really adorable.”
“Get lost.” Though he cursed, Xue Bao Tian wasn’t actually angry. Instead, he started bargaining. “What if I use my hand? With our relationship, can’t you compromise a little?”
Zhang Chi’s hand slid from his hair to the back of his neck, rubbing slowly in a controlling manner. Every forceful, rude movement suppressed an overwhelming amount of desire. How could Xue Bao Tian not understand? Swallowing hard as his throat bobbed, he steeled himself and hooked a hand around Zhang Chi’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss.
Zhang Chi was shameless—he neither took initiative nor cooperated. He let Xue Bao Tian put in all the effort before finally leaving his lips and kissing his way toward his ear. His lazy, low voice slipped inside. “Two Hundred, I can’t compromise on this. No hands.”
It took Xue Bao Tian a moment to realize he’d been tricked. Instantly furious from embarrassment, he snapped, “Zhang Chi, how the fuck did garbage sorting forget you? You belong in the green waste bin—at least then you could be recycled into fertilizer or something.”
Zhang Chi couldn’t care less which trash bin he belonged in. Pressing forward step by step, he asked, “Between us, it’s flirting. Between you and Huang Song, it’s victory or defeat. Which does Master Xue choose?”
The cigarette remained loosely held between his fingers. Xue Bao Tian brought it back to his lips for a long drag, then half-squinted as he turned his head and exhaled smoke. Flicking the cigarette butt away in one smooth motion, he finally answered:
“I choose the idiot.” He raised his eyes. “Take your pants off.”
Zhang Chi lowered his gaze, desperately suppressing the groan threatening to escape his throat. At last, he understood why some people were obsessed with this sort of thing. The half-kneeling submission, the redness at the corners of the eyes, the tear tracks during intense moments, and the unique mixture of grievance, pitifulness, unwillingness, and resentment that belonged only to Xue Bao Tian—all of it endlessly stirred the most primal, direct urge within a man to conquer and possess.
“Two Hundred,” Zhang Chi rasped while stroking the top of Xue Bao Tian’s head, “you’re not teaching well enough. Put more effort into it.”
His hand pressed downward, and the sound he had suppressed for so long finally slipped free from his throat.
Sure enough, Huang Song later produced a file. Looking at Xue Bao Tian, whose eyes still carried traces of redness, he said, “Young Master, are you interested in investing together? It’s extremely profitable. Ordinary people wouldn’t even know how to get access.”
Xue Bao Tian glanced at Zhang Chi before opening the file in his hands. At first he skimmed casually, but then he read more carefully. Several times his expression shifted with excitement, though in the end he thought for a long while before finally closing it.
“It really is a good project. Very profitable too. Thank you, President Huang, for thinking of me.” His voice sounded unusually hoarse, as though steeped in strong liquor—rich and smooth all at once. “But the risks are too high. My assets can’t compare to yours, President Huang. I don’t dare take such a gamble.”
Huang Song shrugged. “No problem. Earning a little is still earning. Money accumulates slowly, doesn’t it?”
Xue Bao Tian took the tea Zhang Chi handed him to soothe his raw throat. “Trading digital currency is illegal in this country. I’m timid, so I won’t be playing along with President Huang.”
“We have insider information. Guaranteed profit, zero loss. Young Master really doesn’t want to try? I heard your brother-in-law acts very arrogantly in your company. Even though you’re the legitimate heir, your brother-in-law apparently has more authority there than you do.”
Smiling faintly, Xue Bao Tian replied, “Thank you for concerning yourself with my family matters, President Huang.”
When both threats and temptation failed, Huang Song brought out his final trump card. Beckoning to his secretary, he took a blue folder and waved it lightly. “I think Young Master would be very interested in this. It concerns your brother-in-law Wei Hua’s… ambitions.”
Holding his teacup, Xue Bao Tian pretended to blow away the floating tea leaves and answered gravely, “And what does President Huang want in exchange?”
Huang Song had already dismissed everyone else. Now only the two parties involved in the matter remained in the reception room. Slowly pushing the blue folder across the coffee table until it sat directly before Xue Bao Tian, he said, “Young Master surely knows what I want.”
Tea steam curled upward, misting over thick lashes. Xue Bao Tian curved his lips faintly. “Let me guess—inside is information about Wei Hua planning to collude with outsiders to cheat my father out of his shares?” He looked up at the confident man opposite him. “Am I right, President Huang?”
Huang Song’s eyes widened abruptly. “You… how did you…”
“How did I know?” Setting down his teacup, Xue Bao Tian began showing off. “If President Huang can investigate it, then it can’t be that difficult to uncover. And please rest assured—with me around, Wei Hua absolutely won’t succeed.”
He shot Zhang Chi a look. “Give President Huang the item.”
Zhang Chi placed a USB drive in front of Huang Song before returning to stand behind Xue Bao Tian.
Sitting with one leg crossed over the other, Xue Bao Tian radiated dominance. “This contains the thing President Huang has been desperately trying to get. No exchange necessary—I’m giving it to you. That’s why I came here in the first place. Unfortunately, President Huang repeatedly hurt my feelings. But none of that matters now. I sincerely want to be friends with President Huang.”
Watching Huang Song’s ashen face, Xue Bao Tian stood up. “Same as always—if others don’t provoke me, I won’t provoke them.” His lips moved lazily in perfunctory thanks. “Thank you for the hospitality, President Huang. It’s getting late, so I’ll be leaving now.”
He had barely taken two steps before a sinister voice stopped him.
“Young Master, how do I know you didn’t keep a backup?”
Xue Bao Tian slowly turned back around, feigning concern. “Good point. How would President Huang know whether I kept a backup or not? Looks like you’ll just have to gamble on whether I’m a kind person.” After enjoying Huang Song’s miserable expression to the fullest, he finally restrained his arrogance and said seriously, “No backup. President Huang doesn’t need to waste any more effort on me in the future.”
Opening the door, he stepped outside—but Zhang Chi did not follow immediately. Instead, he returned to the tea table and reached beneath the solid wood surface. Feeling around briefly, he seemed to find something and yanked hard downward.
A pinhole camera landed in front of Huang Song. Zhang Chi’s tone remained gentle. “President Huang, there are twelve cameras like this in the living room, dining room, and this reception room combined. I suggest you clear the storage backend. If the footage leaks, you and those other bosses from earlier will all end up being invited to tea by the police.”
He walked over and refilled Huang Song’s tea. The stream of tea poured steadily into the cup. Even after it overflowed, he didn’t stop. Brown tea spilled over the rim and spread slowly across the table.
Amid the clear sound of pouring tea, Zhang Chi looked directly into Huang Song’s eyes and said:
“And one more thing. Don’t touch my boss.”
Futile Devices Scans 
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