Chapter 7: Could It Be a Double Adapter?

Chapter 7: Could He Be a Switch?

"I'm no damn urologist!"

Lin Cheng, arms crossed in the passenger seat, replayed today's 'walking into a trap' in his mind, growing angrier with each thought.

"Couldn't your Young Master Qiao find someone else to treat him? I bet he’s already scoured the whole world for specialists. If even those 'genital experts' can’t fix it, what makes you think I can?"

"He just wants to shackle me for life, work me to death."

Ding Shu, hands on the steering wheel, remained silent, focused solely on driving.

Noticing Lin Cheng's incessant ranting and tightly crossed arms, Ding Shu quietly nudged up the untouched air conditioning.

The sky was overcast. By the time they stopped at a red light, a light drizzle began—so faint it was inaudible, mist-like against the car windows, fine and dense as confectioners' sugar.

The windshield wipers automatically activated, and the damp scent of rain quickly permeated the car through the air circulation.

"Lin Cheng, count your blessings. You owe a hundred million," Ding Shu said. "You shouldn’t have taken on the Wei family’s debt."

"Wrong," Lin Cheng wagged a finger. "It’s one hundred and fifty million. Fifty million was covered by three properties and a Cayenne."

"It wasn’t your burden to bear," Ding Shu repeated.

Lin Cheng: "..."

"That Cayenne of yours isn’t even enough to cover a year’s interest on a hundred million." Ding Shu signaled left—they were now heading to Lin Cheng’s place.

"The Weis have been skimming profits from the Qiao Group for years. You had no idea, yet their business performance tanked. Young Master Qiao had to resort to unconventional tactics for a purge. The Qiao Group isn’t short on heirs—things can flip on a dime."

"Stop." Lin Cheng’s voice dropped. "I have zero interest in your high-society dramas. None of it concerns me. I just need to mind my own business."

"It’s too late for that now." Ding Shu smiled faintly, a hint of sorrow in his eyes. "Lin Cheng, you’re already in. Don’t kid yourself thinking you’ll stay dry from the splashes."

"I’m an outsider," Lin Cheng said, though deep down, he knew Ding Shu was right.

Secretary Ding was probably cut from the same cloth as him, which was why he offered this well-meaning advice.

"Even if we stretch the imagination," Ding Shu sighed softly, "even if you paid off Wei Qing’s debt right this second, the Weis would still fall. You know that, don’t you?"

Lin Cheng stayed silent.

Of course he knew. After all, this was Young Master Qiao—if he wanted something, he got it.

"Wei Qing might be innocent, but his brother was the real wastrel who squandered the fortune," Ding Shu said. "So why did you insist on paying the Wei family’s debt? It doesn’t make much difference."

"I..." Lin Cheng faltered.

"I didn’t want to owe Wei Qing."

He finally admitted it—to someone he’d only met twice.

The air grew quiet, filled only by the subtle hum of the S-class sedan's engine.

"Then... you don’t resent me?" Ding Shu asked, puzzled but sincere. "I tricked Wei Qing, used Young Master Qiao’s identity to fish for intel from him, about..."

"Why would I resent you?" Lin Cheng cut him off. "You were just doing your job. Working late, sending late-night texts, making marathon calls." The thought almost made Lin Cheng laugh—though it was a bitter laugh. "You probably didn’t enjoy it either. Might’ve even felt awful."

As if struck by Lin Cheng’s words, the silence returned.

"Lin Cheng, you’re good at taking care of people," Ding Shu said. "Young Master Qiao wasn’t wrong to pick you."

Lin Cheng: ...Oh, *bless* you, you bite the hand that feeds you!

"Next turn’s yours. Do we need to register at the gate?" Ding Shu asked.

"Nah, I can just use face recognition. The guards know me." Lin Cheng grinned, raising a playful eyebrow. "Just say it’s my brand-new Maybach, and you’re my driver."

Ding Shu: "...It’s a company-issued car. Only for Young Master Qiao."

"Yeah, yeah~ Don’t be so rigid."

"Wait." Lin Cheng suddenly realized something important.

"What?" Ding Shu asked.

"My bike." Lin Cheng had ridden his motorcycle to the company to confront Qiao Yuhe. "I left it outside..."

That bike was his baby. Though he’d had it for years, he wouldn’t let a speck of dust near it. Rain might as well be acid!

"It’s fine," Ding Shu said. "Keys?"

Lin Cheng patted his pockets. "Got ‘em."

"I’ll have my team pick it up today and drive it over for you."

"Drive it where?" Lin Cheng was confused. He only knew Ding Shu was taking him home to get the divorce papers—he had no clue about the next steps.

"Young Master Qiao’s place, of course," Ding Shu said. "You’ve only got a six-hour window. You need to pack. We’re on a tight schedule."

Lin Cheng: ...The hell?

"Pack? I’m moving in with that Qiao bastard?" Lin Cheng was stunned.

"Yeah," Ding Shu replied. "Got a problem?"

A huge one.

Wasn’t it just 'on standby'? Didn’t he say no 'live-in servant' duties?

Unless...

"Can’t I just rent a place nearby?" Lin Cheng tried to bargain.

"You can’t afford the rent there."

His hope was mercilessly crushed.

"Uh, do you live at Young Master Qiao’s place too?" Lin Cheng ventured again.

"No," Ding Shu said matter-of-factly. "I have my own place."

Then why did *he* have to live there? Lin Cheng couldn’t help but overthink.

The rumors weren’t baseless—he’d heard plenty at last night’s victory banquet.

Lin Cheng clenched his jaw, but the answer screamed in his mind, a battering ram thrashing to break free.

Was this... a sugar daddy arrangement?

"Trophy boy, a rich man's plaything?!"

"Me? A 182cm tall, six-pack abs, 70kg bench-pressing, scar-faced, dark-skinned, total top—a canary?!"

A full-body cringe wracked Lin Cheng as he physically shook his head, ridding it of the tacky soap opera nonsense flashing through his mind.

What the fuck... Does that Qiao guy have such fucked-up tastes?

No way.

Absolutely no way!

Think of other possibilities, think, damn it... Come on, brain!

Wait.

If Qiao is impotent but still likes pretty men, and now wants to keep someone like me... Could he be a switch?

BINGO! That fits!

Even though Young Master Qiao is cold and quirky, he’s certainly good-looking with a great physique, and he’s paying him... When it comes down to it, it’s not a bad deal. Worst case, he could just close his eyes and think of something else to power through.

After all, he’s already signed the contract—he can’t back out now.

No wonder... A debt of a hundred million yuan wouldn’t be cleared so easily.

Let’s just hope he can rise to the occasion when the time comes.

...

"We’re here." The car slowed to a stop, and the window rolled down.

"Lin Cheng, we’ve arrived."

Lin Cheng jolted back to reality, awkwardly licking his lips. "Huh? Oh, we’re here."

After a quick nod to the security guard, the car started again and drove into the neighborhood.

Following Lin Cheng’s directions, they inched through the villa area, which, despite being upscale, was somewhat dated. The roads were narrow, lined with parked private cars and electric scooters, making it a tight squeeze for the Maybach.

"How much do houses here cost?" Ding Shu asked.

"Why? Is Young Master Qiao planning to buy?" Lin Cheng grew wary.

"Just making conversation." Ding Shu chuckled. "Why the third degree?"

Lin Cheng: "..."

"Of course I’m tense. Houses here aren’t prime real estate—they don’t fetch high prices and are hard to sell. Wouldn’t want Young Master Qiao to make a money pit," Lin Cheng quipped.

Ding Shu missed the dig and plowed ahead, "Then why don’t you live in your downtown place? This is so far from your workplace."

"Wei Qing liked it here—it’s quiet," Lin Cheng said. "Besides, the two downtown properties command better rent. It doesn’t matter where I live, and this way I get to ride my motorcycle more often."

"Oh, I see." Ding Shu went quiet for a beat, then suddenly added, "I like listening to you talk, Lin Cheng."

Lin Cheng: "...Huh?"

Secretary Ding’s abrupt remark left Lin Cheng floored.

"You’re easy to talk to," Ding Shu smiled at him.

"Oh... okay." Lin Cheng felt awkward but also a little pleased. "Well, you can chat with me more often then. Serving Young Master Qiao must be stressful—you need an outlet. Don’t worry, I’m a vault."

Ding Shu didn’t reply, just nodded.

Soon, they arrived.

After unlocking the electronic gate via his phone, the Maybach parked in the overstuffed backyard. It was cluttered with potted plants, mechanical parts, and other odds and ends.

Thanks to Wei Qing’s very public cheating, the past month had been rough, and Lin Cheng hadn’t had the chance to clean the yard in ages.

The garage door required a swipe card. Just as Lin Cheng was about to get out, a familiar figure came around the corner from the side path.

It was Wei Qing.