One week later.
The quiet of the penthouse was broken only by the soft hum of ambient lighting and the distant sounds of Shanghai's night. Qin Yu stood by the floor to ceiling windows, a glass of water in his hand, wearing a charcoal gray robe loosely tied at the waist. He wasn't expecting company. He didn't invite anyone. And yet-
A soft chime echoed through the room.
Not the doorbell. Not the intercom.
The private elevator.
Qin Yu's eyes narrowed instantly. His penthouse was accessed only by a private lift, one that required a keycard and thumbprint authentication. Shen Wenlang had both. So did he. No one else. No one else should.
He didn't move at first, simply waiting, shoulders tensed.
A. As if he kind of knew who it was hehehehhe
He heard the faint whoosh of the elevator doors opening, then the sound of deliberate footsteps measured, unhurried, assured. Like the owner of the place returning home.
And then, through the shadowed entryway, he appeared.
Yan Rui.
Again.
Qin Yu didn't speak. His expression didn't betray much, but internally, sparks flew irritation, curiosity, something darker curling around his ribs.
Yan Rui said nothing at first either. He walked in slowly, clad in black: crisp shirt unbuttoned at the throat, tailored trousers, no tie. Casual, dangerous elegance. His eyes, dark and unreadable, moved over Qin Yu like a man surveying something that already belonged to him.
"You have a habit of breaking into people's homes?" Qin Yu finally asked, his tone flat but edged.
"No," Yan Rui replied. "Only yours."
Qin Yu's jaw tightened. "I'm not in the mood for games."
"Then let's not play," Yan Rui said, walking further in without permission. "I needed to see you."
His voice wasn't rushed. It was smooth, deep completely at odds with the chaos it stirred inside Qin Yu. For reasons he couldn't explain, this man invaded every corner of his calm. Like he knew how to poke at something long buried.
Qin Yu set the glass down, slowly. "You came uninvited. Again."
"Do you want me to leave?" Yan Rui asked, his eyes steady now, unreadable.
That was the real question.
Because the right answer was obvious. Of course, Qin Yu should throw him out, demand answers about how he bypassed security, and maybe call the police. But the truth settled thick in the air between them. The truth stood in the way he hadn't moved-not even an inch to stop Yan Rui.
"You shouldn't be here," Qin Yu said quietly.
"But I am." Yan Rui took one more step forward. "And I don't think you mind."
The silence stretched, heavy and charged. Qin Yu didn't speak. Neither did he step back when Yan Rui closed the distance between them, only a breath apart now. Heat radiated off both of them like friction waiting to erupt.
Yan Rui reached out slowly not to touch, not yet but to skim the edge of the marble counter beside him, his hand brushing against Qin Yu's glass. His voice dropped lower.
"You feel it too."
Qin Yu's eyes flicked to him, sharp and stormy. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You do." Yan Rui's lips curled into something between a smirk and a promise. "You've felt it since that flight. Since the first glance."
A flash of memory those sharp obsidian eyes on the plane, the feeling of being seen too deeply, too fast. Qin Yu hated that he did remember.
A. Ah, those memories 🤤
"I don't get involved with strangers," Qin Yu said, more to himself than to him.
"I'm not a stranger," Yan Rui replied softly. "Not anymore."
Qin Yu's throat tightened, pulse fluttering. Every warning in his body said to end this. Every instinct screamed that Yan Rui was trouble in the most seductive form. A man like that didn't just walk into your life-he moved in, rearranged it, burned it down if he had to.
And still, he didn't stop him.
Yan Rui stepped even closer. He didn't touch. Not yet. But he was right there, in his space, his scent dark spice and danger invading Qin Yu's senses.
"I won't touch you," Yan Rui said, voice rougher now, "unless you want me to."
His words weren't just confident they were true. He wasn't forcing this. He wasn't pleading either. He was waiting. For Qin Yu to give permission. Or to push him away.
Qin Yu didn't move.
And then-
A single touch.
Fingers grazed the edge of his jaw. Just a whisper. But it burned. It seared through every defense he'd spent years building.
Qin Yu didn't breathe.
Yan Rui tilted his head slightly, leaning in, lips brushing near his ear but not quite touching.
"I'll come again tomorrow night," he said. "Unless you tell me not to."
And just like that, he stepped back, walked past him, and disappeared into the elevator.
Gone.
Leaving only the heat, the echo of his breath, and the storm still boiling beneath Qin Yu's skin.
Come back, don't go!