We Are Not Dating! - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Fine Night

Because Jiang Zhiyu failed to show up for the dinner party, the partner grumbled in regret for a while, but he was soon distracted by other matters and ceased chatting with Qi Shu.

Qi Shu skimmed through the resumes from Puyin. The secretary reported the progress, stating they had pre-selected several interpretation experts and would communicate further later.

“Who are the ones you’ve selected?” Qi Shu asked.

The secretary looked up the records and called out the names. Qi Shu listened patiently, tapping his fingers against the edge of the desk.

He remarked, “Jiang Zhiyu didn’t come from a linguistics background and doesn’t have sufficient conference experience. Why is he on the list?”

The secretary paused. “Although his experience is limited, he performs very steadily every time. I’ve listened to his simultaneous interpretation at meetings; his foundation is no weaker than the others.”

She then speculated, “President Qi, do you want to cross him off?”

Qi Shu had no such intention. “As long as Yang Muchuan hasn’t been so bewitched that he’s abandoned his morals to chase someone—it would disgrace Songcheng’s reputation.”

Yang Muchuan was that boisterous partner with a rather profligate lifestyle, a fact the secretary knew all too well.

The secretary explained with a sense of relief, “It has nothing to do with President Yang. Puyin’s side is strictly professional, and he has maintained his professional standards accordingly.”

Qi Shu had no further questions. He shut down his computer and walked out of the office. While taking the elevator, he received a call from his mother.

“Did Xiao Ming let it slip, so you’re intentionally not coming back?” Mother Qi asked, sounding accusatory.

Qi Shu took the blame for his brother. “I guessed it myself. Other than financial management and blind dates, I don’t seem to have any other function in your eyes for now.”

Mother Qi said, “You haven’t even agreed to go once. This time, someone specifically came to ask if you were single…”

Qi Shu interrupted, “I just got off work, I really don’t have the time, nor do I have any thoughts of getting married.”

Mother Qi’s mind took a sharp turn. “Are you into men?”

Qi Shu answered coldly, “I don’t like my life being disrupted by others.”

“A-Shu,” Mother Qi said, “What can you do if you go back to your apartment now? No one is waiting for you. Don’t you ever feel bored living alone?”

Qi Shu was practically invulnerable. “I’ve lived alone for so many years; I don’t need anyone to wait for me. I feel quite comfortable.”

The mother and son failed to reach an agreement. Mother Qi gave up on trying to mold this “stone,” reminding him that the temperature difference between day and night was large lately and he should keep an extra layer of clothing with him.

Qi Shu acknowledged her and glanced at the suit jacket he was carrying. He had long been used to being independent; he didn’t need reminders to take care of himself.

However, he responded faintly, telling his mother to also take care of her health. After hanging up, he remained silent for a moment and then opened his “Moments.”

His younger brother had just posted photos to show off his birthday celebration, having received a whole wall of gifts this year. He was about ten years younger than Qi Shu, a half-brother, but this reconstituted family didn’t have any melodramatic conflicts. Both sides were reasonable intellectuals, and they got along warmly and stably—which instead made Qi Shu feel somewhat superfluous whenever he was among them.

Fortunately, Qi Shu had a mature and complete personality; he wasn’t a sensitive boy. With a flourishing career of his own, he had no time to dwell on such common social nuances. He looked at the gift photos for a while and then turned off the screen.

Plenty of people broke their necks trying to please Qi Shu but couldn’t even cross his threshold. A wall of Gundam models looked like a kindergarten playhouse to him.

However, Qi Shu tossed his car keys. Looking at the empty underground garage and the quietly lurking supercar, he inexplicably didn’t want to return to his apartment. Indeed, there was nothing to do once he got back.

The area was a cluster of large enterprises, and the supporting nightlife was rich; places of luxury and revelry were blossoming everywhere. Across from the company, a new nightclub seemed to have opened, but Qi Shu disliked such chaotic places.

He went to a nearby quiet bar—not his first time here tonight. He habitually sat alone by the window and ordered a Black Label whisky.

“We’ve changed to the summer drink menu. Would you like to try something?” the bartender asked.

Qi Shu nodded slightly and added a new sampler set. Though he usually had social engagements, he rarely drank, and he certainly wasn’t greedy for more. On the occasional times he came to a quiet bar to kill time, he would stop after a few.

Tonight, Qi Shu paired alcohol with the Nasdaq index. The estimated trend was showing high-level volatility; the Federal Reserve’s policy stance was wavering, a combination that was quite irritating. He couldn’t help but drink a few more glasses, though he felt his mind was still clear.

But he definitely couldn’t drive. Qi Shu checked his watch and ordered a designated driver, filling in the car model and home address.

Soon, the platform called him. The customer service representative explained, “Is your car a Huracán? The driver on duty has no experience driving supercars and doesn’t dare take the order. They can’t afford the responsibility if something happens.”

This was a bustling area; even at midnight, one had to queue for a taxi. Qi Shu didn’t feel like the hassle and simply decided to get a room nearby.

The five-star hotel had a sophisticated VIP management system. When the front desk saw Qi Shu’s information, they automatically provided the best suite.

“1301,” the receptionist announced the room number. Immediately after, she added politely, “We have a 24-hour kitchen. Feel free to call the extension at any time if you have needs.”

Qi Shu took the room card. As he went upstairs, he felt a bit dizzy and stuffy, knowing he was likely drunk. Since he could walk and talk normally, the intoxication wasn’t too severe, so he didn’t think much of it.

However, Qi Shu’s attention was too scattered; he forgot to confirm if the door was tightly shut. He heard a thud when he closed it behind him, but in reality, it remained open by a tiny crack. It wasn’t enough for someone to peek inside, but the problem was that the door would open with a simple push.

Jiang Zhiyu stumbled out of the elevator. In just a few minutes, he had gone from barely maintaining balance to feeling like the world was spinning. At first, he hadn’t felt bad, but the delayed effects of the alcohol were now surging with great force.

He specifically rubbed his eyes and saw the “1301” number plate. Without thinking, he took out his room card. The machine made a “beep-beep” error sound. Jiang Zhiyu lowered his head in confusion, only to find the door had already opened automatically.

So, he entered, closed the door behind him, leaned against the wall, and lay down on the sofa.

He vaguely felt something hard poking him. Jiang Zhiyu paused warily at first, then felt around carefully, confirming it was a jacket. He couldn’t think about why there was a strange suit in his room. His nose caught the scent on it—a refreshing yet steady woody perfume.

Then, like a small animal building a nest, he huddled the nice-smelling, nice-feeling clothes into a pile and sprawled over them, drowsy and dazed.

When Qi Shu came out of the bathroom, he saw a slender figure lying in the room, his face obscured from the side view. Drinking too much can sometimes cause hallucinations, but Qi Shu didn’t think he was that confused.

“Are you in the wrong room?” he asked distantly.

The other person didn’t seem to hear him and let out a soft, pained hum. Qi Shu walked over reluctantly to take a look and saw a familiar face.

“Jiang Zhiyu.” He remembered the name and saw the 1307 marked on the room card the other had dropped.

So he’s nearsighted?

He sneered: “Wake up. I’ll have the front desk take you back to your room.”

A strange voice rang in his ear. Jiang Zhiyu’s reactions were slow now, and he sensed no danger at all. He found the man too noisy and buried his head into the jacket.

Seeing his suit being used as a pillow, Qi Shu ground his teeth and reached out to pull his clothes away. However, Jiang Zhiyu curled up; his body lines were light and soft, and his posture had a hint of pitifulness, as if he could be picked up entirely.

Qi Shu had originally intended to pull Jiang Zhiyu away, but before his fingers could touch skin, he withdrew them.

“I’m going to call the internal line.” Even though they were both men, his gaze instinctively avoided the other.

Jiang Zhiyu, in his muddled state, poked his head out from the clothes and saw a blurry silhouette. A crisp, solid-colored shirt and suit trousers—the kind of look someone with a “finance allergy” would react to immediately. Normally, Jiang Zhiyu would choose to walk the long way around, but today he felt spirited.

“Where did you come from? You’re not allowed to leave. Explain clearly who you are,” Jiang Zhiyu spoke fuzzily, preparing to pass judgment with great gravity.

Qi Shu turned his head upon hearing this, only to hear the other person’s confusion: “I only failed to rush a draft for Songcheng tonight; did they send you to enslave me?”

Hearing his company’s name, Qi Shu suddenly became interested. He stopped in his tracks and didn’t rush to call the hotel staff.

“So what if I’m from Songcheng?” he inquired.

Jiang Zhiyu curled his lip and threw a stumbling tantrum.

“Calling me to make me go to a dinner party—is that how you people do proper business? And what kind of speech did Qi Shu write? Sending an email just to make me do translation!”

Fragments of memory regarding the draft surfaced. He muttered: “I was supposed to have romantic luck today, but it was all washed away by his currency analysis. Now I can only sleep on the sofa like a curse…”

Qi Shu refused to take the blame: “Does he have that much power?”

His tone was habitually cold and hard. Jiang Zhiyu froze for a moment in a daze, feeling as though he had been suddenly snapped at. He lowered his slender neck and buried half his face in the man’s clothes, looking very heartbroken.

Qi Shu had no experience in coaxing people. Seeing the other with red-rimmed eyes and remaining silent, he suddenly didn’t know how to end the scene.

Not making an appointment in advance and asking Jiang Zhiyu to come to dinner last minute was indeed disrespectful. But that was Yang Muchuan’s doing—was he supposed to share the blame?

Qi Shu planned to call Yang Muchuan over and said to Jiang Zhiyu: “An apology will be given for the mistake. Tell me, what compensation do you want?”

Jiang Zhiyu was half-asleep and half-awake. Feeling a bit hot in the room, he unfastened two buttons. He spoke with some grievance, but the content was that of a rogue: “You people pay me back a husband.”

Qi Shu: “…”

He had already opened the dialing page for Yang Muchuan, but after Jiang Zhiyu’s stunt, he thought about it and closed his phone wordlessly. Jiang Zhiyu was clearly a total mess from drinking. If he just stuffed him back into 1307 next door and something happened, it would be impossible to explain.

Was he supposed to watch him himself?

Qi Shu found it absurd. What if the other person clung to him the next day?

The more he thought, the dizzier he felt. Qi Shu stopped his train of thought and decided to take a shower first. Fearing Jiang Zhiyu might wander off and get injured by tripping, he looked the other over and then pulled out a striped tie.

When Jiang Zhiyu wasn’t speaking, his image looked very obedient, even somewhat deceptive. Seeing Qi Shu walk over, he even shrank back a bit.

He said ignorantly: “Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t ask for ‘payment in kind.'”

Qi Shu wasn’t very sober either. He said, almost like a command: “Hands.”

Jiang Zhiyu’s subconscious was very hesitant, but unfortunately, his brain was currently like mush, and he couldn’t perceive anything wrong. He only reached out his right hand, and subsequently, he was tied to the sofa armrest by Qi Shu.

Now that Jiang Zhiyu couldn’t move freely, Qi Shu was satisfied.

Jiang Zhiyu was confused by this, not understanding why he had to be tied up. His sore eyes filled with moisture again. Such an expression easily moved people. Qi Shu reflected on himself—had he gone too far?

Less than two seconds after this thought appeared, Jiang Zhiyu spoke with what he thought was a fierce tone.

“Just as expected from someone out of Songcheng—the company atmosphere is problematic, and you bully people in private… I bet Qi Shu is just as annoying as you.”

Qi Shu looked at him in silence for a while, then smiled. “Since Qi Shu is so hard to get along with, why do you still want to provoke him? Cooperation is a two-way choice; you can always retreat in the face of difficulty.”

Jiang Zhiyu bragged casually: “I don’t care about others, I’m going to take him down regardless.”

Qi Shu glanced at him, and Jiang Zhiyu burrowed into the suit jacket again.

Too lazy to continue entangled with a drunkard, Qi Shu went to take a shower. When he came out, Jiang Zhiyu had his eyes closed, his breathing very shallow. Qi Shu walked up to him to confirm if he was truly asleep. Jiang Zhiyu was easily startled; he opened his eyes with confusion and caution.

The man was wearing a hotel bathrobe, his eyes dark and quiet. There was a mist of moisture at the ends of his hair as he also studied him.

Jiang Zhiyu was stunned. It was as if he hadn’t seen him just now, nor had he argued with him. With a change of clothes, he couldn’t recognize him at once.

Playing the “innocent rabbit” was useless now. Qi Shu directed heartlessly: “You go to the bed. I’m sleeping on the sofa today.”

Jiang Zhiyu couldn’t understand what he was saying at all. He murmured: “I want to go to the bathroom, I’m about to melt.”

He had been plied with a lot of alcohol tonight. At first, he hadn’t felt much, but now he felt restless. His heart rate accelerated uncontrollably, and his whole being was enveloped in heat.

Initially, Qi Shu thought he wanted to bathe. After running the water in the bathtub and coming back out, he saw Jiang Zhiyu fidgeting with his legs pressed together. Qi Shu stiffly realized—not only did Jiang Zhiyu seem drunk, but his own intoxication didn’t seem to have fully dissipated either.

Without following that thought deeper, Qi Shu picked Jiang Zhiyu up.

“Jiang Zhiyu, you reek of wine.” He turned on the shower. “You’re so energetic—you didn’t take any ‘enhancers,’ did you?”

Jiang Zhiyu half-closed his eyes, leaning softly against the man. The bathroom had no air conditioning. He couldn’t help but unfasten his buttons, and since his hands and feet were clumsy, he cast a look for help toward Qi Shu.

Qi Shu, getting drenched by the hot water along with him, said sluggishly: “Maybe we should record a video as evidence, lest you extort me tomorrow morning.”

Jiang Zhiyu was on a different frequency: “How are you so tall? I can put my chin on your shoulder… No, I can’t stand steadily… Where did these abs come from? I want to train them too.”

Qi Shu wanted to make him shut up, but as Jiang Zhiyu spoke, his warm breath unintentionally brushed against Qi Shu’s neck, causing a tingly, numbing sensation. So he wanted to push Jiang Zhiyu away again. Amidst the pulling and tugging, the two were completely soaked.

Jiang Zhiyu’s cheeks were flushed with a thin layer of sweat. His gaze lacked focus for a long time; his whole being was moist and blurred.

It was stuffy. It was so hot.

He wasn’t the only one who thought so. In the rising steam, Qi Shu realized late that he had been made dizzy by Jiang Zhiyu’s antics. He knew that a too-hot environment accelerated metabolic circulation and made it easier for someone to get more drunk, which was why he had used cool water when he showered earlier.

He hadn’t accounted for it this time; the two were now drenched. And Qi Shu only remembered this because he was feeling very lightheaded. In the quiet bar, several drinks had been mixed together, and the ingredients were unclear. At this moment, in addition to the afterglow of the alcohol, a sense of heat was born. It had been suppressed before, lurking in his blood, but it was hard to ignore upon awakening.

Jiang Zhiyu knew nothing of the current situation. Seeing Qi Shu stop moving, he curiously rubbed against the other’s Adam’s apple. They leaned against the corner, as if snuggling intimately. Jiang Zhiyu, his center of gravity swaying, didn’t forget to push his luck, pressing even closer.

The next second, powerful fingers pinched his chin. As he lifted his head, the pad of a finger slowly rubbed across the corner of his lips. It was a highly suggestive and possessive action.

Jiang Zhiyu tilted his head slightly. Without any flinching, he lowered his head and bit down on Qi Shu’s fingertip.

A numbing sensation came with the pain. Qi Shu looked down at him, while Jiang Zhiyu pushed his luck, biting harder. Jiang Zhiyu could feel the other’s gaze, but he didn’t understand the specific meaning of the expression—intense and deep, it made him feel very awkward.

He bared his claws and teeth, wanting to raise his thorns: “What are you staring at me for? You want to make me hurt too?”

As he spoke, his blurred vision finally found focus, landing on Qi Shu’s face.

It stayed there for about two or three seconds. In the instant his eyelashes trembled, Qi Shu leaned in.

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