The Domineering CEO's Vain Trophy Husband 19

The elevator doors opened once again, but no one paid attention.

Through the gradually closing gap, the young man stood with his head slightly bowed, his waistline outlined by his shirt, fitting perfectly against the man's palm.

The confined space of the elevator gave a sense of suffocation, its inorganic silver seeming to compress everything within.

"Mr. Ming, you're hurting me."

Lin Zhi had a beautiful pair of lips that seemed to carry a slight upward curve even without expression, often giving people the impression he was smiling.

When those lips uttered words of grievance, each syllable carried a tone like pollen concealing toxins, entering one's body like mist, clouding the senses.

Ming Yao did not let go. He executed his intentions with near-ruthless precision, moving from measuring the waist downward toward his next destination.

His heart, simultaneously swollen and compressed to the point of near-collapse, felt as though thorny vines were tightening around it — producing something akin to pain while simultaneously delivering immense pleasure.

The elevator walls clearly reflected their silhouettes. The young man's black hair fell obediently across his forehead, and his face, like a spring flower, wore a vivid smile.

Feeling is a strange thing — difficult to describe clearly, impossible to target with precision.

In his previous life, and even in this world, Lin Zhi had encountered men who expressed interest in him and met his standards, yet each had been missing something in the way they made him feel.

The first time Lin Zhi laid eyes on Ming Yao, he found him pleasing to look at, but it had only been a slight stirring of interest — nothing that gave Lin Zhi any sense of urgency. And so he had played this game of intimacy with Ming Yao at a leisurely, unhurried pace, fully in control.

But just now, Ming Yao's expression, his tone, his voice — they had truly provoked something in him. A stirring unlike any he had felt before sent a tremor through him. It was a pleasure distinct from the purely physical; his mind had been occupied by a single thought, undiluted by any other consideration.

And yet... What a pity. This was outside Lin Zhi's plans. The day he had been scheming toward was deeply significant — a conquest that would be nothing short of an offering.

So it could not be now, could not be here, and besides, it was not at all convenient.

Ming Yao murmured Lin Zhi's measurements against his ear. The young man's shirt and trousers had long since been thoroughly wrinkled.

Lin Zhi laughed softly, a little breathless: "As accurate as I expected."

His eyes were bright. Ming Yao pressed a kiss to the corner of his eye, then grew momentarily lost in his own action.

Lin Zhi didn't mind. He even closed his eyes.

It was an excessively yielding gesture — almost the feeling of giving Ming Yao free rein to take whatever he wished.

Yet Lin Zhi's hand was pressed against his chest, and when Ming Yao leaned in for another kiss, Lin Zhi pushed the stop button.

"Good night, Mr. Ming."

Lin Zhi opened his eyes and said goodbye with a gaze full of warmth.

After standing still for a long moment, the elevator doors were pressed open again.

Ming Yao maneuvered his wheelchair aside, watching Lin Zhi straighten his clothing inside the elevator.

Lin Zhi unhurriedly fastened his buttons, examining the kiss marks on his collarbone in the mirror-like elevator wall, then covered them with his clothes. He was presentable enough to walk straight into a business meeting without issue.

The elevator doors gradually closed, cutting off Ming Yao's line of sight and casting him out from that dreamlike, hazy world.

His heart was still beating wildly, reluctant to release the pleasure of the moment before.

Lin Zhi was like an excessively sweet bursting candy — one bite between the teeth could easily break through the outer shell and reach the sweetness within. This sweetness was cumulative and time-bound, driving one with desperate urgency to explore further inward toward the ultimate source, to plumb the limits of that sweetness — yet before reaching some unknown destination, the sweet reverie dissolved.

Ming Yao made a deliberate effort to steady his breathing, his gaze falling heavily on his own legs.

If he could move as he once had, he would have held onto him.

When Lin Zhi returned to his room, the restless feeling had not yet subsided. He took his little toy in the bathroom.

It was a bit of a shame that he could not simply do as he pleased, but when he thought about what he was going to do next, his mood lifted somewhat.

Lin Zhi had never forgotten the mission. Everything he did served as groundwork for it — even taking priority over his own preferences — because it was tied to whether he could continue living.

He would not be overly tense, but he would not take it lightly either.

He had simply grown accustomed to not showing how seriously he took things, because that made it too easy for others to seize upon his weaknesses.

The thing gradually warmed to his body temperature, dividing his body from his consciousness, and in a certain moment they blurred and intertwined.

The shower was turned on. Hot water sent mist curling through the air, fogging the mirror.

Lin Zhi raised his hand and wrote a date on the mirror, his eyes growing soft and vacant.

When the final moment arrived, Lin Zhi's fingers gripped the edge of the vanity, his slender neck tilting slightly upward.

He switched off the device by remote, then combed the scattered strands of hair from his forehead back with his hand — though the hair was soft and soon fell forward again.

Lin Zhi leaned slightly toward the mirror, looking at the numbers on it.

— 9.23

The marks he had written were being reclaimed by the mist, growing slightly blurred as droplets ran down the mirror's surface.

This was Ming Yao's birthday. According to his investigation, on this day eleven years ago, Ming Yao had been in a car accident. His legs were injured, and his mother died as a result.

His mother's death anniversary and his birthday fell on the same day. This day must carry extraordinary weight for Ming Yao.

Lin Zhi raised his hand and wiped the date from the mirror, then pulled the device free by its cord, disinfected and cleaned it before finally bathing.

He still needed to pay Grandfather a visit and gather more information.

The next day, after finishing a business meeting at another company, Lin Zhi stopped by Grandfather's place.

The weather was rather pleasant today — neither cold nor hot, the temperature just right.

After taking his medicine, the old man's coughing had clearly improved considerably. He still coughed occasionally, but not often.

"What are you doing back again?"

The old man wasn't displeased, merely curious.

A radio on the table was playing the Yue Opera Butterfly Lovers, its melody hauntingly beautiful, lending the autumn day an added chill.

"Came to check whether Grandfather has been taking his medicine properly."

Lin Zhi sat down beside him, watching the old man's happy yet awkward muttering with a soft curve of his eyes.

"Grandfather, shall I find you a new bird? What do you think?"

Lin Zhi glanced at the empty birdcage not far away. He had noticed it yesterday, but yesterday had not been the right time to bring up something potentially sorrowful.

"No need. We'll talk about it come spring — otherwise the poor thing would only suffer."

The old man sighed lightly, keeping time with his fingers and humming along with his eyes closed: "Yingtai is not a heartless one... A heart of sincerity like Jade... Before me stands the mountain terrace... After parting today, when shall we meet again?"

Lin Zhi listened quietly for a while before speaking: "Grandfather, is Ming Yao's birthday coming up?"

The old man's eyes snapped open, and the gaze he fixed on Lin Zhi held a sharpness unlike anything before.

Lin Zhi knew what the old man was suspecting and guarding against, and met his gaze openly and without flinching.

"When I was in Ming Yao's room the other day, I happened to see his identification by accident, but I wasn't sure whether the date on it was correct, so I wanted to ask you."

There was a difference between accidentally seeing something and deliberately prying. The old man had lived to this age and was even more prone to suspicion than Ming Yao himself — he worried about far more things, and Lin Zhi knew this perfectly well. He had come prepared, and when he lied, he did so without the slightest trace of guilt.

Having said it, he wasn't afraid of the old man seeking to verify it. Besides, the old man most likely wouldn't go and ask Ming Yao directly. Lin Zhi had been inside Ming Yao's room and had taken photos of him — things the old man already knew — and the old man would naturally assume some romantic feeling might be developing between them.

The old man's expression returned to normal. He said: "Why are you asking about this?"

In that brief moment just now, the old man had indeed been sizing up Lin Zhi's intentions. He did not want Lin Zhi to have ulterior motives and end up hurting Ming Yao.

He didn't particularly doubt Lin Zhi's explanation — partly because Lin Zhi's manner was composed, and partly because of how Ming Yao had behaved yesterday.

When he had spoken his words of encouragement, Ming Yao had not said anything like 'the true nature of marriage' the way he had the last time.

"To prepare a birthday gift for Ming Yao."

Lin Zhi smiled with a hint of embarrassment, carrying the bashfulness of a young person newly in love.

The old man sighed: "There's no need. He doesn't celebrate his birthday. Hasn't celebrated for a long time."

The old man looked at the empty birdcage. Just a few days ago, a little creature had been chirping away inside it — and then, just like that, it had fallen ill and died.

"...Parted on the terrace, now parted forever. In this mortal world, fate denies us growing old together."

The radio kept singing, and the old man's expression grew increasingly forlorn.

Lin Zhi allowed a silence that conveyed quiet understanding to settle at the right moment, and after a good while, spoke again: "Then let this be the year it starts again. Some things always have to be walked through eventually, don't they?"

"Your heart is good, and I would not want your good intentions to be wasted in the wrong place. Let him be alone on that day. Celebrating would only make everything seem absurd — it would only make him more heartbroken."

Lin Zhi asked gently: "Is it related to his father and mother?"

The old man nodded. His lips moved slightly, as though he wanted to say something, but in the end only sighed: "Fate is a cruel thing."

The Butterfly Lovers on the radio continued: "Your sorrow and hatred shall become legend for a thousand ages; I, alone and solitary — how am I to live!"

The old man raised his hand and switched off the radio, saying quietly: "Sometimes even that may not be for the best."

Lin Zhi watched him in silence. The old man seemed to have said nothing, and yet seemed to have said everything.

Clearly, Ming Yao's knot of the heart was tied to his mother's death — and the root cause that had made it into a knot was very likely his father.

Had his wife died, and so he came to resent the child?

Could it be that Ming Yao had been the cause of the accident? That Ming Yao, as a minor, had been driving and caused a crash that killed his mother?

No — that wasn't right. He had seen the accident reports from that time. The records were difficult to find, but he had managed to locate photographs.

On a rainy day, the car had lost control and rolled. Ming Yao had been carried out from the back seat.

Lin Zhi suppressed the thoughts turning over in his mind. Even if his speculation was correct — even if this were truly the reason Ming Yao refused to stand up — he had no way to easily undo it.

Empty words urging Ming Yao to let go would be completely useless. Ming Yao could only find his own way through.

What he could do, naturally, was provide some external impetus — to inspire him to stand up. After all, he was here to redeem him.

Lin Zhi stayed to have dinner with the old man before leaving. In the car on the way back, he opened his phone app and checked the camera feed in Nuonuo's collar.

In the few days he had paid Ming Yao no attention, Ming Yao had apparently gotten along quite well with Nuonuo.

At the very least, now that Nuonuo was circling around his legs, Ming Yao no longer shooed him away with a word — and occasionally even had the servants feed Nuonuo some food.

From Nuonuo's perspective, Ming Yao's expression had softened considerably.

Though every so often Ming Yao would absently glance toward somewhere else, as if waiting for something.

Lin Zhi smiled softly. Did Ming Yao know he wore that unconscious expression?

Lin Zhi closed the app and sent Ming Yao a message.

[Lin Zhi]: I just left Grandfather's. He's much better — the coughing wasn't as bad as yesterday. I'm heading home now.

Ming Yao, currently in the office, saw the message, gestured for the meeting to pause for a moment, read Lin Zhi's message again, and sent a considered reply.

[Ming Yao]: Okay.

The people on the conference call had no idea their boss had paused for several minutes to send a single character. After Ming Yao nodded to them, the meeting resumed.

Lin Zhi didn't particularly care what Ming Yao replied and went back to handling his own affairs.

Most banquets were held in the evening, and the one Ming Yao and Lin Zhi attended together was no exception.

The custom-made suit was ordered that afternoon had already been delivered to Lin Zhi — flawless in every regard.

The situation this time was much the same as the last. Since Lin Zhi, as Ming Yao's companion, came across as remarkably approachable, those who found Ming Yao difficult to speak to all gravitated toward Lin Zhi to make conversation.

Ming Yao did not have Lin Zhi deflect drinks on his behalf; rather, he kept an eye on Lin Zhi and told him to drink less.

When Lin Zhi went to get some food, Ming Yao parked himself in a slightly more secluded spot to decompress and avoid the constant interruptions.

Perhaps others had the same idea about finding a quiet corner — just around the bend, two people were speaking.

"Do you know him? Send me his contact details."

There was something insufferably flirtatious in that voice. Ming Yao recognized it — the third son of some conglomerate, a man with no shortage of tabloid scandals.

"Don't make trouble. He's married."

That voice belonged to Qiu Qingrong.

Ming Yao's brow furrowed involuntarily. He had a fairly good idea of who they were talking about.

"Married? So what? I'm exactly into that type — and he's not wearing a ring, so it's probably a loveless marriage, or he's deliberately out here looking for fun."

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Author's Note:

President Ming: Bankruptcy warning [cold-face.jpg]

[Note]: The opera lyrics are sourced from Butterfly Lovers.