That slender figure disappeared through the doorway. Zhou Yang straightened up, stubbed out his cigarette, and followed her. The hotel lobby was well air-conditioned; cool air rushed toward him. Ahead, the woman’s pale back was faintly visible, partly hidden by her hair, swaying gently with each step.

 

Earlier, Assistant Lu had sent Su Hao a message on WeChat. Her room key had been left at the front desk, so she went straight there to pick it up before heading toward the elevators. Just then, an elevator arrived. The doors opened, and Su Hao stepped inside, pressing the button for the eighth floor.

 

When she looked up again, Zhou Yang had entered as well.

 

Perhaps it was the change of environment, or perhaps Kyoto itself—with its extravagance and decadent charm—but Zhou Yang seemed even more striking here. Even dressed simply in a shirt and slacks, he radiated an easy, roguish allure, far stronger than he ever had back in Li City.

 

He looked exactly like a carefree, world-weary playboy.

 

Handsome, wealthy, and clearly someone who knew how to have fun—he fit perfectly into the city’s luxurious atmosphere. Su Hao took two steps back and lowered her head, fiddling with her phone.

 

Another woman entered the elevator. The moment she saw Zhou Yang, her eyes lit up. She was wearing a red slip dress, the design creating soft folds along her thigh that accentuated her long, fair legs. Her makeup was exquisite, her hair styled in loose, voluminous waves. She was completely different from Su Hao, who looked pure and understated even in a slip dress, her face bare of makeup.

 

Standing beside Zhou Yang, the woman actually looked quite compatible with him. They seemed to belong to the same world, making Su Hao appear oddly out of place.

 

The woman brushed her hair back, hesitated, then took out her phone, opened her WeChat QR code, turned slightly, and held it out toward Zhou Yang.

 

Zhou Yang lifted his eyes to glance at her. She smiled sweetly. He smiled back—but didn’t move. Instead, he turned his head and met Su Hao’s gaze.

 

Su Hao was clearly enjoying the show.

 

Caught off guard, she shrugged and looked away.

 

Zhou Yang narrowed his eyes slightly. “……”

 

The woman noticed their exchange and finally took a closer look at Su Hao. Su Hao wasn’t looking at Zhou Yang, but the man standing there with one hand in his pocket had his gaze fixed on the woman in the black slip dress the entire time. Even without speaking, the atmosphere between them felt… off.

 

Seeing this, the woman quietly withdrew her phone. Fortunately, the elevator soon reached her floor. She stepped out.

 

The doors closed again.

 

From the eighth floor to the eighteenth took only a moment. The eighteenth floor housed only three suites—and tonight, only Su Hao and Zhou Yang were staying there.

 

The floor gleamed under the lights, and the room numbers were written in English. Su Hao took out her key card and walked toward her room.

 

Just as she was about to swipe the card, Zhou Yang suddenly grabbed her wrist—right where Shen He had held it earlier. Su Hao froze and turned back to look at him.

 

One of his hands gripped her wrist; the other was braced against the wall. His collar was slightly open, and he smiled casually.
“You’ve got the wrong room. Yours is next door.”

 

Su Hao glanced at the door.

 

 

She looked down at her card.

 

 

“Sorry,” she said, pulling her hand free and turning toward Room 1802. Zhou Yang was left standing there, arms crossed, watching lazily.

 

Just as she swiped her card, he stepped forward again, grabbed her wrist once more, and spun her around.

 

She was pinned against the door.

 

The card fell to the floor. Her hand was pressed flat against the door as Zhou Yang leaned down, close to her ear, and asked softly,
“Did you drink?”

 

Once again, he was gripping the exact spot Shen He had touched.

 

A strong scent of alcohol filled her nose—sharp and heavy. Su Hao frowned and struggled, twisting her wrist until her fair skin flushed red.

 

“You’re the one who’s been drinking,” she thought. Is he drunk?

 

Her light, clean scent enveloped him, seeping into his senses and straight into his bones. Zhou Yang chuckled softly.
“I did drink. Quite a lot. But I’m not drunk.”

 

Even as he said it, his body swayed slightly.

 

His other hand pressed down on her free hand—deliberately casual—pinning her completely against the door, like a flower ready to be plucked.

 

The desire hidden in his eyes surged like wildfire, though his expression remained composed. Pretending to be drunk, he murmured,
“I’m really not drunk.”

 

“Let go of me. You are drunk,” Su Hao said, struggling.

 

“Don’t move. I’m a little dizzy.” Zhou Yang lowered his forehead against hers, still acting drunk, his thumb brushing over her wrist once… twice.

 

As if trying to erase the trace Shen He had left there.

 

Su Hao kicked at him several times. “If you’re dizzy, go back and rest!”

 

“I really am dizzy—and you’re kicking me,” Zhou Yang frowned, looking at her.

 

“What’s wrong with you, grabbing people like this?” Su Hao’s expression was calm. She’d seen her father’s drunken antics before, so she assumed this kind of behavior was normal for a drunk man.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with me. Don’t kick me.” Zhou Yang dodged her foot with a grin, his gaze falling on her red lips. His eyes darkened slightly.

 

He wanted to kiss her.

 

Very badly.

 

Desperately.

 

But he didn’t dare.

 

The smile faded from his face. His grip tightened, his expression turning grim.

 

Why did he have to be just a friend?

 

This man changed moods like a chameleon. Su Hao noticed the shift and had no idea what a drunk person might be thinking.
“Zhou Yang, if you don’t let go, I won’t be polite.”

 

Hearing that, Zhou Yang curled his lips into a lazy, wicked smile.
“And how exactly do you plan on being impolite?”

 

“How about having a one-night stand with me?”

 

Su Hao frowned—and in the next second, kicked hard at his lower body.

 

Zhou Yang’s eyes sharpened as he dodged swiftly. He yanked her toward him, gripping her wrist and pulling her into his arms, then pinched her chin and lifted her face.
“What are you kicking at, huh?”

 

With one hand free, Su Hao slapped him across the face. It wasn’t especially hard.
“That’s what you deserve.”

 

He didn’t dodge the slap. It landed cleanly.

 

He froze for a moment, then laughed. By then, Su Hao had already stepped out of his arms.
“Go back and take some hangover medicine. I’ll ask the front desk to send some up later.”

 

She bent down, picked up the card, swiped it, and went inside.

 

Leaving Zhou Yang outside.

 

Drunk men were really too much.

 

Back in her room, Su Hao immediately called the front desk and also messaged Assistant Lu, asking him to come check on Zhou Yang.

 

Assistant Lu had booked a suite on the seventeenth floor. There were clearly empty rooms on the eighteenth, yet for some reason he hadn’t booked one there.

 

When Assistant Lu saw the message, he froze.

 

President Zhou wouldn’t get drunk…

 

His alcohol tolerance was excellent.

 

Still, since he’d received the message, he hurriedly put on his glasses, slipped into his slippers, and went upstairs. When the elevator doors opened, he immediately saw Zhou Yang standing by his door, stubbing out a cigarette in a beautifully designed hidden ashtray. One hand rested loosely in his pocket, his eyes lowered, lost in thought.

 

Assistant Lu approached carefully.
“President Zhou?”

 

There was a faint smell of alcohol.

 

Zhou Yang lifted his eyes and glanced at him. “Why are you here?”

 

“Are you drunk?”

 

“Do I look drunk to you?” Zhou Yang rubbed the corner of his mouth and countered.

 

“No.” Assistant Lu let out a sigh of relief—then noticed the red mark at the corner of Zhou Yang’s lips, as if he’d been slapped.
“President Zhou, your lip—”

 

His gaze drifted involuntarily toward Su Hao’s door.

 

Zhou Yang asked coldly, “What are you looking at?”

 

Assistant Lu snapped his gaze back, meeting Zhou Yang’s eyes—and saw the jealousy hidden within them.

 

Cold sweat broke out instantly.

 

I can’t even look? Should I wear an eye mask whenever I see Miss Su from now on?

 

“Nothing. I was just wondering if Su Hao had come back.”

 

Zhou Yang laughed, leaning against the wall.
“Who are you kidding? Wasn’t it her who called you up here?”

 

Assistant Lu: “……”

 

It really wasn’t fun when he exposed things so directly.

 

Just as he was about to speak, the elevator doors opened again. The front desk had brought up the hangover medicine. Zhou Yang took it and gestured for them to leave. Seeing his condition, Assistant Lu knew perfectly well that he wasn’t drunk at all. He turned and went back downstairs with the front desk staff.

 

Zhou Yang swiped his card and entered his room. The door closed, and the hallway returned to silence.

 

Su Hao took her pajamas into the bathroom. Hot water cascaded over her as she stood beneath the showerhead, noticing the red mark around her wrist. She scrubbed it hard.

 

Her skin took after her mother’s—easily marked. After scrubbing for a while, it only became redder, so she gave up. Her thoughts drifted elsewhere.

 

Originally, she’d wanted to clarify things with Shen He tonight. But perhaps it was a woman’s intuition—ever since getting into the car, she’d sensed his hesitation. So she hadn’t brought it up. If he had too many concerns, then maybe they really weren’t meant to walk the same path.

 

She lowered her head, letting the hot water wash over her back.

 

Her long hair spilled over her shoulders, clinging to her skin.

 

She wasn’t in a hurry.

 

But she couldn’t keep Shen He hanging forever either.

 

After her shower, Su Hao sat on the windowsill, drying her hair. From the eighteenth floor, the view was high and wide—the city glittered brilliantly at night.

 

Lights stretched endlessly in every direction.

 

She pushed the window open slightly, letting the breeze in.

 

After drying her hair, she went to bed. Shen He hadn’t messaged her, so she sent him a good night.

 

It wasn’t until after 1 a.m. that her phone buzzed—Shen He had replied with “Good night.” By then, Su Hao was already fast asleep.

 

She slept until morning. When she woke and saw the message, she scratched her head and replied with one hand.

 

Su Hao: Morning.
Shen He: Morning, Haohao. Want me to drive you to the office?
Su Hao: No need. The office is nearby—I’ll walk.
Shen He: Okay.

 

He replied quickly this time. They exchanged a few more messages. Su Hao got up, washed, changed into an A-line skirt and a simple top, tied her hair up, grabbed her work bag, and headed out.

 

Zhou Yang’s door was still closed. She glanced at it once, then went downstairs.

 

Assistant Lu had sent her the location for Feijie. It was just across one traffic light. Su Hao had breakfast in the hotel restaurant before heading over.

 

The Kyoto branch mainly handled livestream operations. There weren’t many staff, and most of them were young. The one who received Su Hao was the cashier—a pretty, gentle-looking girl who even called her “sis.” Unlike the one in Haicheng, she didn’t ask excessive questions or probe. She simply prepared all the necessary materials.

 

Su Hao didn’t even need to ask.

 

They sat down to reconcile the accounts, working smoothly and efficiently. Su Hao felt that this branch really was as they’d said—built later by Zhou Yang, with far fewer messy issues. The cashier didn’t even ask about personnel changes at headquarters, focusing solely on her work.

 

No wonder their performance was so strong—within just two years, they’d surpassed the long-established branches in Dong City and Haicheng. Even at a glance, Su Hao had seen many beautiful women around—content creators cultivated by Feijie. Though she didn’t watch short videos or browse Weibo much, she recognized several of them.

 

They ordered takeout together for lunch. By a little after four in the afternoon, everything was done. After saying goodbye to the cashier, Su Hao received a call from Shen He.

 

“Haohao, I’m downstairs at your company. Let’s go eat.”

 

Su Hao smiled. “Okay.”

 

She entered the elevator, rode it down to the first floor, and walked into the lobby, where she saw Shen He’s car parked outside. He was leaning against the door, waiting.

 

She quickened her steps.

 

When he saw her, Shen He immediately stood up straight, smiling at her. Su Hao stepped out—and just then, a Bentley pulled up. Zhou Yang got out of the car. When he saw the two of them, he paused briefly, then unbuttoned his coat and walked over, his gaze casually sweeping over them.

 

“Where are you headed?” he asked with a smile.

 

Shen He opened the car door. “Going to eat.”

 

After a brief pause, he suddenly smiled.
“Brother Zhou Yang, want to join us? Su Hao and I will treat.”

 

Zhou Yang replied slowly, “You and Su Hao… treating me?”