Chapter 1: The air was thick with an intimate haze. Two men's heavy breathing intertwined passionately, as if about to ignite the very space around them. One sounded like a man finally finding relief after a long drought, his voice alternating between high-pitched cries and soft whimpers; the other remained far more restrained, his occasional gasps laced with suppressed desire.

Finally, after a low, satisfied groan, silence returned to the room. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed. The heated atmosphere had completely dissipated; were it not for the lingering unusual energy filling the space, any casual observer would have assumed nothing had happened at all. Morning had just begun to break. Ming Huai woke up—completely naked. He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the slivers of light filtering through layers of gauzy curtains. Ming Huai's eyes were large and bright, framed by long, dense lashes; the faint crimson lingering at the corners added an unexpected flush to his otherwise clear and handsome features. He seemed lost in a void, thinking of nothing, doing nothing, simply resting quietly against that broad, powerful chest. About ten minutes later, Ming Huai's brow furrowed slightly. His body was far from comfortable, especially his lower back and certain unspeakable areas, which throbbed painfully.

He knew clearly this was no hangover aftermath; in fact, every cell in his body screamed, declaring what kind of absurdity he had experienced last night. Lowering his gaze, he saw a tanned, muscular arm stretched across his pale chest. Ming Huai closed his eyes briefly, feeling a headache coming on. Things had deviated drastically from what he had expected, yet last night's circumstances had truly been beyond his control. Reflecting on this, Ming Huai suddenly recalled the overwhelming pleasure of the previous night. He thought to himself that he certainly hadn't come out disadvantaged in this affair. Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, a deep, magnetic voice sounded beside his ear, striking like thunder and jolting Ming Huai abruptly back to reality, leaving him momentarily unable to think.

"Who are you?"

The man's tone revealed no specific emotion, but it certainly wasn't pleasant. Ming Huai reached out, grasping the other's tanned arm, and chuckled softly. Then, maintaining that position, he turned his body. His expression remained perfectly composed, as if two old friends were merely chatting in bed.

"Mr. Ji, I'm Ming Huai. Good morning."

Ming Huai looked exceptionally handsome when he smiled. A small dimple appeared on his left cheek, and his eyes sparkled so brightly they were almost dazzling. However, none of this fell within Ji Tingqian's concern. His expression was neither good nor bad, simply indifferent. His deeply chiseled, handsome features were veiled by a layer of cold detachment, and the light in his eyes appeared sharp and piercing—he certainly didn't seem like an easy person to get along with. Ji Tingqian withdrew his arm and sat up. Looking down at Ming Huai from above, he lowered his gaze and asked, "What do you want?"

A flicker of ambiguous light passed through Ming Huai's eyes. He clicked his tongue and sat up as well. Due to his movement, the blanket slid down significantly, pooling around his waist. Immediately, numerous erotic kiss marks scattered across Ming Huai's pale skin, along with purplish bruises on both sides of his waist, were fully exposed to the air. Ming Huai seemed largely unconcerned. He propped one long leg up, rested his cheek against his hand, and replied teasingly, "What does Mr. Ji think I want?"

After speaking, Ming Huai fell silent, fixing his beautiful eyes steadily on Ji Tingqian, waiting patiently for the other man's answer. Ji Tingqian had always kept others at a distance and maintained impeccable personal conduct. Therefore, despite his outstanding conditions, no one had ever dared to make advances toward him. This was the first time he had encountered such a situation. But encountering something for the first time didn't mean he hadn't heard of it. Having spent many years in the entertainment industry, he knew clearly that those who climbed into beds did so solely for fame and profit.

"Resources or money?" Ji Tingqian asked, his thin lips parting slightly.

Ming Huai smiled again. He straightened his body and, catching Ji Tingqian completely off guard, threw himself into the other man's embrace.Ji Tingqian was slightly taken aback, yet instinctively caught the person who threw themselves at him. Then he felt something soft brush against his lips. By the time he realized what had happened, Ming Huai had already pulled away, leaving his arms suddenly empty. Ji Tingqian looked up to meet Ming Huai's gaze, which held an ambiguous glint that made him distinctly uncomfortable.

"Mr. Ji,"

Ming Huai licked his lips and said, "Don't overthink it. I'm not expecting anything."

Ji Tingqian finally furrowed his brows, but Ming Huai continued, "We were both heavily drunk last night. We're adults; let's just treat it as an accident, shall we?"

Ming Huai appeared perfectly composed, convincing Ji Tingqian that he genuinely didn't care. Yet precisely this indifference provoked Ji Tingqian into frowning again. Combined with certain rumors he'd heard about Ming Huai, a subtle flicker of irritation stirred within him. Ji Tingqian knew of Ming Huai; they belonged to the same company but had never collaborated. Within the industry, Ming Huai's reputation in certain aspects was far from favorable. Just as they faced off silently, a ringing phone shattered the room's quiet. It was Ming Huai's phone. The situation turned truly awkward now. Last night, neither had shown much restraint; before even reaching the bed, clothes had been scattered everywhere. Now, the ringing phone lay buried beneath that pile on the floor. The quilt was their only remaining cover; beneath it, neither wore anything. Ming Huai wanted to retrieve his phone, but Ji Tingqian watched him unblinkingly. Previously composed, Ming Huai now found himself unable to move.

After the first ring cycle ended, Ming Huai still hadn't gotten out of bed, and Ji Tingqian hadn't looked away. Soon, the phone rang a second time. Ji Tingqian gave Ming Huai one deep look, then finally shifted his gaze. The next moment, he threw off the quilt and stood up boldly. His tall, powerful frame was bathed in an ambiguous warm yellow light. Under such visual impact, Ming Huai nearly forgot how to breathe. Without saying a word, Ji Tingqian walked straight toward the bathroom. Once Ji Tingqian disappeared from sight, Ming Huai vigorously rubbed his ears, then flipped out of bed and quickly located his phone, answering just as the ringing neared its end.

"Hello? Ancestor, you finally answered!"

A woman's anxious voice came through the line. Ming Huai tightened his grip on the phone and explained, "Sister Lan, I had some alcohol last night and wasn't feeling well, so I asked the front desk for a key and slept too deeply."

"Slept too deeply? You scared me half to death!"

Yu Fanglan rubbed her temples. Last night had been a charity gala attended by many famous artists. She had only let Ming Huai slip away briefly; when she went looking for him again, he had vanished.

"How dare you be so reckless? Running around while drunk—don't you know how many people are watching you?"

Glancing toward the bathroom, Ming Huai sidestepped the topic.

"Sister Lan, most reporters should have left the hotel by now, right?" Yu Fanglan replied,

"Probably some are still there. By the way, I'm also at the hotel. Which room are you in? I'll come pick you up."

Ming Huai's heart instantly jumped to his throat. He declined, claiming he was already home drinking honey water. Trusting Ming Huai, Yu Fanglan didn't suspect anything, merely reminding him once more to be careful before hanging up. Ming Huai had no intention of facing Ji Tingqian again for any further conversation. He set his phone aside, picked up his clothes from the floor, and within three to five minutes had dressed himself in the wrinkled garments. Thus, when Ji Tingqian emerged from the bathroom, he found the room completely empty. Ming Huai had entered the entertainment industry over two years ago. Thanks to his exquisite looks and exceptional acting skills, he rose to fame rapidly. Of course, beyond these two factors, Ming Huai's ascent to such prominence was inseparable from the significant resources倾斜 (tilt/investment) devoted to him by his company.Just how good were Ming Huai's resources? So good that his very first role after debut was the male lead in a major television production.

When Ming Huai first burst onto the scene, many voiced their criticisms; yet his superb acting skills quickly silenced some of those detractors. Still, idle gossip persisted. Ming Huai hardly cared—let others say what they wished; as long as he lived well himself, that was enough. By the time Ming Huai arrived home, it was already half past seven. The residence was a split-level apartment, warmly decorated with soft, warm tones. Several plush toys rested on the fabric sofa, and upon closer inspection, one would notice that nearly all the furniture in the house lacked sharp edges. Leaning against the wall at the entryway to change his shoes, Ming Huai supported his lower back. As he stood up, he couldn't help but frown and let out a pained groan. It had been far too long since his last intimate encounter; such sudden exertion left his body truly unable to cope.

Just as Ming Huai was rubbing his lower back to ease the discomfort, a middle-aged woman's voice suddenly called out, "Xiao Huai, you're back!"

Following the sound, a kind-faced middle-aged woman appeared before him. As she drew nearer, she immediately noticed Ming Huai's slightly pale complexion. Before he could offer any explanation, she hurriedly said, "Look at how much you've drunk! Your face looks terrible. Go take a shower right away; Auntie Chen will brew some hangover-relief tea for you."

With that, Auntie Chen gently pushed Ming Huai further into the house. Ming Huai pleaded softly, "Auntie Chen, I really didn't drink that much."

Auntie Chen widened her eyes, about to say more, but Ming Huai quickly changed the subject: "Is Dudu awake yet?"

"Still asleep," she replied, her voice softening.

"Last night he insisted on waiting for you. He refused to sleep until very late, and only finally dozed off when he simply couldn't stay awake any longer."

A flicker of guilt passed through Ming Huai's eyes. Such was the nature of his profession; naturally, the time he could spend with his child was limited. Dudu wasn't particularly clingy, yet he was only three years old—an age when a father's presence was especially needed.

"I'll go up and check on him," Ming Huai said.

Auntie Chen sighed.

"Make sure you wash off that smell before you see Dudu. You don't want to overwhelm the child."

"Alright, alright," Ming Huai replied with a smile.

After bathing, much of his physical fatigue eased. Changing into comfortable loungewear, Ming Huai headed toward Dudu's room. Dudu's bedroom was located very close to Ming Huai's own. Whenever Ming Huai was home, Dudu would usually sleep beside him. According to Auntie Chen, because Dudu hadn't been able to wait for Ming Huai last night, the child had thrown a small tantrum, declaring he no longer wanted to sleep with his daddy. Ming Huai pushed open the door and stepped inside quietly. The room was dimly lit. On the small bed in the center, two tiny bumps could be seen beneath the covers. Ming Huai guessed that Dudu must have cuddled his large stuffed dolphin tightly in his arms. The child on the bed had exceptionally long eyelashes, fair cheeks with a touch of baby fat, a delicately upturned nose, and rosy, plump lips. He was sleeping soundly, yet his small hand firmly clutched a plush toy.

What an adorable child. Gazing at him, Ming Huai's heart filled with tenderness. Any lingering irritation or melancholy swiftly vanished. This was his precious treasure.