Chapter 75

Chapter 75

The air was silent as the two men faced each other, neither backing down. Finally, the ferocity in Zhao Zhi's eyes gradually faded.

In its place was self-mockery, confusion, and an overwhelming sense of pain and guilt that he couldn't suppress.

Instinctively, he raised his hand to rub his face forcefully.

"I'll call my partner," he said, pulling out his phone.

Ye Zhiqiu remained silent, waiting quietly.

As Zhao Zhi made the call, he turned away, his voice becoming gentle and relaxed again.

"Honey, play with the baby for a while longer," he said. "A colleague needs to talk to me about a project; we'll go to the coffee shop downstairs."

"Okay," he added. "I'll come up later."

After hanging up, Zhao Zhi turned back to Ye Zhiqiu. "There's a coffee shop downstairs. The coffee is average, but it should be quiet at this hour. If you don't mind, let's go there and sit for a bit?"

Ye Zhiqiu smiled and nodded, and they descended the stairs one after the other.

Indeed, there were only a few people in the coffee shop, especially in the dimly lit corner where many seats were empty.

They sat across from each other, each ordering a drink before getting straight to the point.

"What do you want to know? Go ahead," Zhao Zhi said, raising his hand to rub his cheek forcefully again. A self-mocking smile curled the corners of his lips. "But I'll tell you honestly: unless you're done with this industry, it's best not to provoke Zhou Lang."

If you count Qin Weian, Zhou Lang can be considered a veteran of Q.L.

Moreover, every year, he contributes numerous high-quality works to society.

Not just within Q.L, even in the domestic fashion circle, his influence is significant.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have so easily found such a good position for Zhao Zhi.

"How so?" Ye Zhiqiu smiled, taking a sip of his coffee.

It wasn't very good. He lowered his eyes and put the cup back down.

"Mr. Zhao, are you suggesting that I gather strength and wait until the future to act?"

"Otherwise?" Zhao Zhi said, draining his cup of coffee in one gulp and frowning at the bitterness. "Do you really think I'm doing this for Zhou Lang?"

With the mask torn off, Zhao Zhi no longer pretended.

When mentioning Zhou Lang's name, his eyes filled with hatred and disgust, dark and terrifying.

"It's been over a decade," he said. "Since graduation, I've dreamed of entering Q.L and working under Zhou Lang, but I've wasted years, and now everything has been lost."

Ye Zhiqiu looked at him, momentarily speechless.

Because the expression and tone on Zhao Zhi's face were too weathered.

Weathered and bitter beyond what his current age should warrant.

But Ye Zhiqiu knew well that sometimes, age doesn't mean everything. Some people, despite their youth, have already been through hell.

"I once heard," Ye Zhiqiu said calmly, "that to enter Zhou Lang's team, one must have exceptional professional skills to stand a chance."

"Of course," Zhao Zhi laughed coldly. "How else could one feed him inspiration?"

"In fact, over the years," Zhao Zhi continued, "Zhou Lang's creativity has long since diminished. The reason he still produces so much is because he constantly appropriates others' ideas and work."

There are many people in Zhou Lang's group, yet no one has dared to resist over the years, which is why he has become increasingly arrogant.

"Now, seeing those young people fighting to join Zhou Lang's team, it's truly..." Zhao Zhi sneered.

Truly courting disaster.

If he had been lucky enough not to catch Zhou Lang's eye back then, he would have countless works of his own by now.

If fortune favored him, he might even have had a breakout hit.

Then, his status and connections...

He wouldn't be in such a dire situation, having to negotiate terms with Zhou Lang to get into a small brand like Obei.

Q.L has always offered good benefits, and few designers have left over the years. Almost all who did could leverage their influence to find better positions.

Only he relied on Zhou Lang.

Originally, he could have done it on his own.

If things had progressed normally, a company like Obei would have been within easy reach.

All of this was caused by Zhou Lang.

"So, you're using this opportunity to completely break free from Zhou Lang's control?" Ye Zhiqiu asked.

"Yes," Zhao Zhi said bluntly. "Such immoral deeds, once exposed, would ruin one's career, which is why I dared to demand this condition in exchange."

Ye Zhiqiu nodded, indicating understanding.

"Actually, when I saw you had backups, I secretly breathed a sigh of relief," Zhao Zhi said, smiling again. "I wonder if you believe me."

"I do," Ye Zhiqiu said. "Why wouldn't I?"

Hearing this, Zhao Zhi secretly sighed in relief, his tense back relaxing.

As he relaxed, the vitality seemed to dissipate from him immediately, making him look somewhat pitiful.

But Ye Zhiqiu was not moved.

"After all these years," he asked, "you must have some evidence related to Zhou Lang, right?"

"Evidence?" Zhao Zhi laughed at this. "Do you think Zhou Lang is a pushover who would let anyone keep evidence?"

He paused for a moment.

"Although I don't know who provided you with the information," he said, "I admire their courage, which I lack."

Ye Zhiqiu remained silent, looking at him with a half-smile.

Under normal circumstances, when someone hates another person so much, it's impossible for them to have no desire for revenge.

No one understood this better than he did.

Sure enough, under his clear gaze, Zhao Zhi slowly lowered his eyes.

"For so many years, I do have something in my possession, but it's far from enough to take down Zhou Lang."

In the past, he had indeed thought about going down with the ship more than once, and that was the reason for collecting those things.

But now, having finally escaped, he only wanted to stay out of it.

The life or death of others meant nothing to him.

"Hand over your evidence," Ye Zhiqiu looked at him.

"You?" Zhao Zhi looked at him as if finding it amusing. "Indeed, the young are fearless."

"It has nothing to do with age," Ye Zhiqiu said calmly.

"Then," Zhao Zhi asked, "do you know why I didn't dare to resist for over a decade? And why do you think the others in Zhou Lang's group, who are all shrewd, never dared to stand up against him?"

Ye Zhiqiu, of course, knew.

Without absolute certainty, anyone who stood up could be completely silenced by Zhou Lang using his position and influence in the circle.

Most people who entered this industry and joined Zhou Lang's group had some talent in this aspect.

None of them wanted to ruin their future so easily.

Moreover, as time passed, many had invested and lost so much that they became even less courageous.

But Ye Zhiqiu saw no need to explain this to Zhao Zhi.

"For past matters, considering the mother and daughter earlier, I can let bygones be bygones," Ye Zhiqiu said, "but on the condition that you hand over your evidence."

Mentioning his family, Zhao Zhi's expression darkened.

And to him, Ye Zhiqiu's words sounded like a threat.

Seeming to know what Zhao Zhi was thinking, Ye Zhiqiu lifted his eyes indifferently.

"Don't think you can give me anything trivial," he said. "If there's nothing substantial, I can't guarantee that I won't make public what I have."

Hearing this, Zhao Zhi chuckled after a while.

"Alright," he said, "but I have my own conditions."

"Go ahead," Ye Zhiqiu said indifferently.

"I can give you the evidence I have, but in the future, whatever happens between you and him, I hope it will have nothing to do with me."

Seeing a faint smile flicker in Ye Zhiqiu's eyes, Zhao Zhi instinctively defended himself.

"It's not that I'm selfish," he said, "you saw, I have elderly parents and young children depending on me; I can't afford to lose my job."

Though he spoke confidently, Zhao Zhi knew deep down that his words lacked any persuasive power.

Whether it was destroying Ye Zhiqiu's exhibit for his own future or handing over his evidence for Ye Zhiqiu's, it was all about self-preservation.

He didn't care about Ye Zhiqiu or his colleagues; he simply didn't care at all.

He was not only selfish but also cold-hearted.

However, Ye Zhiqiu did not say much.

Hearing this, he smiled ambiguously, "Fine."

As he spoke, he raised his hand to borrow a pen from a waiter, took a napkin, and wrote an email address on it.

"Send it to this email when you get home," he smiled. "I hope to receive it tonight."

"And your evidence," Zhao Zhi said, "shouldn't you give it to me for fairness?"

"No," Ye Zhiqiu looked at him matter-of-factly. "If I give you what I have, you can easily determine the identity of the person who filmed it based on the angle."

Indeed, Zhao Zhi thought, it must be a video.

"But isn't this unfair to me?" Zhao Zhi asked.

"The choice is yours," Ye Zhiqiu smiled. "Either you give me your evidence, and only Zhou Lang will be exposed, or you don't, and I'll release what I have, and then both you and Zhou Lang will go down together. You choose."

Zhao Zhi: "..."

He clenched his fist, then relaxed it after a moment.

"Okay." Clenching the napkin with Ye Zhiqiu's email in his hand, Zhao Zhi stood up. "Can I go now?"

"Mm." Ye Zhiqiu nodded.

Watching Zhao Zhi leave in a hurry, Ye Zhiqiu sat there for a moment longer.

Recalling his bold bluff just now, his heart began to race belatedly.

Instinctively, he reached into his coat pocket and took out the candy again.

The wrapper gleamed under the light, dazzlingly brilliant.

Ye Zhiqiu pursed his lips. After a while, he peeled off the wrapper and put the candy in his mouth.

The sweet peach flavor instantly filled his mouth, spreading from the tip of his tongue to his heart.

It finally calmed his restless heart.

After sitting there with the candy in his mouth for a bit longer, Ye Zhiqiu glanced at the time.

It was already nine o'clock.

He got up and, instead of going upstairs to look for more candy, he left directly, got into his car, and drove home.

The drive from there to his residence took no more than ten minutes.

Parking the car in the garage, Ye Zhiqiu got out, retrieved another box of tools from the trunk, and carried it back to his place.

Once upstairs, he didn't bother organizing his tools but placed the toolbox on his workbench and turned on his computer, connecting it to his tablet.

Several design drafts were saved on the computer, two of which were completed, prepared for Qi Yun.

In addition, there were a few half-finished ones, belonging to Q.L.

The cursor paused slightly over the two completed designs.

In fact, these drafts had been finished two days ago. Under normal circumstances, he should have given them to Qi Xin then.

But he hadn't.

Whether it was hinting to Tao Ruoqing over the phone that he was working on designs for Qi Xin or later telling Qi Xin himself that he was designing new models for him, his sole purpose was to control Qi Xin.

Any reason would do, as long as he wanted it.

Even using "Qi Xin breathing is wrong" as an excuse to make a fuss wouldn't matter.

Still, this time, fate seemed to be on his side.

Qi Xin's illness and Qi Ruichang's call provided him with the perfect catalyst.

Reopening his email, Ye Zhiqiu created a new message, attached the two drafts, and saved it as a draft.

Then, he closed the email, opened his tablet, and logged into the email address he had given Zhao Zhi at the café.

Carrying the tablet out of the workspace, Ye Zhiqiu returned to his bedroom.

The script he had been reading earlier was still on the single sofa on the bedroom balcony. Ye Zhiqiu bent down to pick it up and couldn't help but glance at the familiar window in the neighboring complex.

The window was dark; Qin Jianhe hadn't returned yet.

Ye Zhiqiu wasn't surprised.

Anyone could guess that dining with company executives wouldn't be just a simple meal. There must be important matters to discuss or prepare for.

Flipping open the script, Ye Zhiqiu continued reading.

When only a thin third of the script remained, he couldn't resist looking up again at the distant window.

Most of the surrounding windows were lit, making that particular one appear even darker.

Subconsciously, Ye Zhiqiu checked the time—it was already 10:30 PM.

Not too late, he thought, lifting his eyes casually.

As if to surprise him, in the brief moment he looked away and back, the small window across the way was filled with warm, soft orange light.

The pen in his hand spun smoothly, drawing a fluid arc. Ye Zhiqiu pursed his lips, a smile unconsciously appearing in his eyes.

But soon, the light went out again, leaving the window dark once more.

Ye Zhiqiu: "..."

The spinning pen stopped, and Ye Zhiqiu was momentarily stunned.

He stared at the window for a while, gradually accepting that the light might not come back on anytime soon.

His eyelashes lowered, concealing the emotions in his eyes, Ye Zhiqiu resumed reading the script.

This time, he was exceptionally quiet, not looking up again.

After an unknown amount of time, about three pages into the script, his doorbell suddenly rang.

Ye Zhiqiu was a bit puzzled, but then, his eyelids twitched, and he quickly stood up.

It took only a few seconds to get from the bedroom to the door, and the doorbell had just stopped ringing when Ye Zhiqiu hurried his pace.

He pulled open the door, and along with the cool night air came a faint smell of alcohol. Qin Jianhe's tall figure blocked his view.

"How did you..."

"Ye Zhiqiu..."

Both spoke at the same time, then paused in unison.

The air suddenly fell silent, leaving only the two standing face to face.

Qin Jianhe raised his hand and ruffled Ye Zhiqiu's hair, then stepped inside.

"Why are you here?" Ye Zhiqiu asked.

Qin Jianhe didn't answer, only gave him a faint smile and said, "I drank a bit too much tonight."

Ye Zhiqiu: "..."

For some reason, just this one sentence made it impossible for him to ask his previous question anymore.

"If you drank too much, go to bed early." Ye Zhiqiu said, helping Qin Jianhe take off his windbreaker, then reached up to loosen his tie.

Just as he was about to remove the tie, his hand was caught by Qin Jianhe.

He pressed Ye Zhiqiu's hand against his chest and leaned down to kiss him.

The warm woody scent mixed with the faint alcohol aroma, and even though Ye Zhiqiu hadn't had any alcohol, he began to feel slightly tipsy.

"Why are you here?" he finally asked again.

"I felt lonely at home alone," Qin Jianhe said, holding him in his arms and touching foreheads with him.

"Your light was on," he added.

Ye Zhiqiu was slightly taken aback and suddenly widened his eyes.

Then he realized that the one standing by the window waiting for the distant light to turn on wasn't just himself.

So, how did Qin Jianhe feel when he stood by the window looking over here?

Was it the same as how he felt watching his window?

Expectation, tension, joy, disappointment, or something else?

But Ye Zhiqiu didn't ask anything, only subconsciously tightened his grip on the tie.

The silk fabric, which had been chilled from outside, was quickly warmed by his fingers.

Like his heart, which had long been cold, was now being invaded by something warm.

"I'll run a bath," he said, "you should sleep early after drinking?"

"What about you?" Qin Jianhe asked, "together?"

"The bathtub is so small," Ye Zhiqiu couldn't help but laugh, looking up at Qin Jianhe, "haven't I learned my lesson from last time?"

Last time, he almost got killed by that thing.

Everything about it was too strong.

His dark phoenix-like eyes lowered, Qin Jianhe leaned down to kiss him, "I'll be gentler today."

"Who would believe that?" Ye Zhiqiu dodged, avoiding his kiss, and playfully winked at him.

Qin Jianhe took a step forward and pulled him back into his arms.

"After seeing you at the restaurant, I started missing you," he said.

"Where did you miss me?" Ye Zhiqiu asked, teasingly.

Hearing this, the corners of Qin Jianhe's lips curled up slightly.

He didn't say anything, just held Ye Zhiqiu quietly for a while before letting go.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said.

Qin Jianhe went into the bathroom, and Ye Zhiqiu picked up the script again, his previously uneasy heart finally calming down.

The tablet beside him emitted a slight bubble sound, indicating an incoming email.

Ye Zhiqiu opened it and saw an email from Zhao Zhi.

The email contained several attachments.

There were records of several sets of costumes, from initial drafts to final versions, all signed.

However, the evidence chain was incomplete.

This involved several designers from Zhou Lang's team, including Zhao Zhi himself.

These materials were indeed useful, but using them to bring down Zhou Lang wouldn't be easy.

Ye Zhiqiu quietly lowered his head, slowly organizing his thoughts.

When the sound of water in the bathroom stopped, he turned off the tablet and picked up the script again.

Qin Jianhe walked over, still wiping his wet hair with a towel.

Because of his movements, the collar of his pajamas had come undone slightly, revealing a strip of firm muscles on his chest—young, supple, and full of strength.

Almost instantly, Ye Zhiqiu imagined what that skin would look like damp with sweat.

"How much have you read?" Qin Jianhe came over, bending slightly beside him, carrying a faint scent of orange blossom from his shower gel.

Ye Zhiqiu looked up at him.

He felt an unusual sense of intimacy.

"Here." He raised the script in his hand to show Qin Jianhe and asked, "Did you read the script beforehand?"

"Mm." Qin Jianhe nodded, "We need to evaluate the script before investing."

Then he smiled slightly, "Do you need to discuss the script with me?"

"Not yet," Ye Zhiqiu said, "I want to finish reading it myself first, or I might be swayed by your opinions."

"Hey, Ye Zhiqiu," Qin Jianhe responded with a slight threat, ruffling his hair gently but firmly, "Who's biased here?"

Ye Zhiqiu laughed and dodged to the side, looking up at his damp hair.

Just out of the bathroom, Qin Jianhe's brows and hair were darker and more lustrous from the moisture, especially his eyes, which seemed warmer with the dampness.

When he smiled, there was even a hint of gentleness.

"I'm biased," Ye Zhiqiu quickly said, calling him obediently, "Brother~"

Qin Jianhe: "..."

He pursed his lips, his dark phoenix-like eyes deepening.

Ye Zhiqiu hurriedly pointed to the script in his hand.

"You go ahead," Qin Jianhe said, averting his gaze, his Adam's apple moving slightly, "Finish early so you can rest."

"Mm." Ye Zhiqiu nodded quickly, holding the script and phone as he sat down on the footstool beside the bed, watching Qin Jianhe climb into bed.

Qin Jianhe lay down, but his dark eyes remained fixed on Ye Zhiqiu's face.

"Why are you staring at me?" Ye Zhiqiu smiled.

"This is the first time someone has stayed by my bed to keep me company," Qin Jianhe said, seemingly amused, his lips curving slightly.

Nie Fengjun was a single mother and later busy with her career, so she didn't have time to accompany Qin Jianhe, which was quite normal.

Qin Jianhe didn't seem to feel any particular way about it; he was merely stating a fact.

But Ye Zhiqiu couldn't say anything like, "Don't worry, I'll always be here for you."

He smiled and met Qin Jianhe's gaze, blinking his beautiful eyes.

"Qin Jianhe, this is also the first time I've stayed by someone's bed to keep them company," he said, "You're really getting a lot of firsts from me. Come on, let's count how many firsts you've taken."

The smile in Qin Jianhe's eyes grew deeper, and he subconsciously tightened his grip on Ye Zhiqiu's hand.

Ye Zhiqiu lifted his other hand and covered Qin Jianhe's eyes.

"Sleep," he said.

Qin Jianhe usually had boundless energy, but tonight, when he arrived, Ye Zhiqiu saw a moment of fatigue for the first time.

He must have been truly tired.

Sure enough, after a short while, the lashes brushing against Ye Zhiqiu's palm slowly drooped.

Ye Zhiqiu moved his hand away.

Qin Jianhe was asleep.

Thin lips, high nose, black eyelashes...

The man's features were sharp, even in sleep, exuding a cold and dignified air.

Ye Zhiqiu watched him quietly for a moment before returning to the script, turning the pages very gently.

At this moment, his heart was calm and full, and he read the script faster and more attentively.

His phone beeped softly, startling Ye Zhiqiu, who quickly switched it to silent mode.

But Qin Jianhe seemed affected, his eyelashes fluttering as if about to open.

Holding the phone tightly, Ye Zhiqiu didn't even check the message, his eyes fixed on Qin Jianhe's face.

Fortunately, he didn't wake up, and his breathing gradually became steady again.

Unaware of it himself, Ye Zhiqiu's smile deepened.

Just as he was about to look at the message, Qin Jianhe stirred slightly and murmured softly.

That voice was low, like a lingering sigh, but still clearly reached Ye Zhiqiu's ears.

"Ye Zhiqiu~" Qin Jianhe whispered, calling his name very softly.