Chapter 49: Really Gonna Do This?

Chapter 49: Is This Really Necessary?

Seizing the opportune moment, Lin Cheng finally posed the question that had long puzzled him: Why did Qiao Yuhe choose to act? It was exhausting and stressful, and no matter how high the pay, it paled in comparison to what "Little CEO Qiao" could earn. It seemed like choosing hardship for no reason. Was it truly out of passion?

Qiao Yuhe fell silent for a moment before slowly replying, "It was my eldest sister’s idea. She wanted to see me make a fool of myself."

"Huh? Why?" Lin Cheng had pondered countless possibilities but never anticipated this answer.

"She loves a spectacle more than anyone," Qiao Yuhe smirked. "So when she drugged me before, I wasn’t surprised."

"The same goes for Langri Group. If she hadn’t stirred the pot back then, Qiao Rongli would never have handed Langri to me. It’s like she wields a cattle prod for dogfights—she zaps things whenever they get too peaceful. She doesn’t actually care whether Qiao Er or I win or lose, as long as it’s entertaining." Qiao Yuhe scoffed, his tone laced with palpable disdain. "What a sad, empty way to live."

"This time is no different. It’s a deal between us: if I can surpass one of her ex-boyfriends, win Best Actor, and break his winning streak, she’ll tell me the truth about my mother’s death."

"Your mother didn’t…?" Wasn’t it suicide? And this kind of deal—wasn’t it too childish?

"The coroner ruled it a suicide. I was there at the time; I couldn’t have been mistaken," Qiao Yuhe said. "But I still want to know, so I agreed."

"Of course, she never thought I’d succeed. The bet was just another way to mock me and provoke my father. If she truly wanted revenge on that actor, ruining his career—or even making him vanish permanently—wouldn’t be difficult. She didn’t need to involve me. But after returning to the country, she suddenly changed her mind and said she’d invest in Lixin Entertainment, adding another betting clause to make me lose it to her."

"Did you agree?" Lin Cheng pressed.

"No," Qiao Yuhe chuckled. "I’m only suited to be the boss. I have no interest in working for someone else."

"..." Lin Cheng, the actual employee, felt that dig deep.

"Anyway, it’s not some big secret. Were you worried I wouldn’t tell you?"

"Not really..." Lin Cheng averted his eyes. The question felt intrusive, as if dismissing all of Qiao Yuhe’s hard work. He hadn’t asked earlier because he didn’t think their relationship was close enough yet.

"Next time, just ask me directly," Qiao Yuhe mussed his hair. "But this was just a trial run. Next time, remember to pay—with this."

A large hand suddenly squeezed his backside. "…Qiao Yuhe!" Lin Cheng flushed crimson again.

With filming nearing its end, they wrapped early that day and returned to the hotel by sunset.

True to his word, Qiao Yuhe only had the stylists remove his wig, keeping the on-screen battle scars—an unmistakable invitation to Lin Cheng.

Lin Cheng didn’t hesitate either. The moment they entered the room, they were tangled together, so frantic they nearly forgot to close the door—though the entire floor was reserved for them, the hotel being part of Qiao Group’s Ronglv chain.

"Stop tearing! I’ll take it off myself." Lin Cheng didn’t want his clothes ruined, but Qiao Yuhe was acting like a wild animal, desperate to rip away anything in his way. "Since when are you so impatient? Don’t—!" Just as Lin Cheng shed his thick sweater, Qiao Yuhe pinned him to the bed before he could remove his shirt, biting and sucking at his neck hungrily.

"Since when?" Qiao Yuhe panted. "Since I found out how good you feel inside. Stay still."

…Once a predator got a taste, there was no going back. Knowing he couldn’t win this fight, Lin Cheng obediently stopped resisting—only for his shirt buttons to pop off under Qiao Yuhe’s grip, finger-shaped bruises blooming on his hips.

Qiao Yuhe’s bedroom dominance was absolute, and Lin Cheng happened to love it. The bruises felt like love letters inked into his skin, filling him with a profound sense of security.

Qiao Yuhe had long recognized this side of him, knowing exactly how much he enjoyed it. The humiliation of being so transparent amplified every touch, to the point where a single hushed "baby" had him melting into a pliant, shuddering wreck.

Lin Cheng thought it was utterly shameless. In his twenties, he’d never known he could cry so easily—whether from overstimulation or tenderness, even from a single well-placed kiss. Only with his lips occupied could he muffle his cries, though choking on Qiao Yuhe’s unyielding tongue wasn’t much better.

Qiao Yuhe was a bottomless pit of desire, and Lin Cheng indulged him unconditionally. At times, Lin Cheng questioned whether his indulgence had gone too far, letting Qiao Yuhe erode his boundaries until he was reduced to this debauched version of himself who arched and begged for more.

And Qiao Yuhe had the audacity to coo about how adorable he was—claiming his dazed expression blended naivety with obscenity, a wanton treasure meant only for him.

So Lin Cheng blacked out from pleasure yet again, waking only when the meeting had already started.

The room was dimly lit, Qiao Yuhe seated on the carpet with a laptop on the low table, a video conference in progress.

Lin Cheng had no idea what excuse Qiao Yuhe had given for his absence, but joining mid-meeting was out of the question. So he stayed wrapped in the nest of blankets, listening from just out of the camera’s view.

With gold-rimmed glasses perched on his high nose and a teardrop mole glinting under his eye, Qiao Yuhe looked unbearably sexy in work mode—especially when speaking French or Italian, languages Lin Cheng couldn’t understand but adored hearing.

His Qiao Yuhe was undeniably exceptional—handsome, wealthy, brilliant, and physically formidable. The only flaw was his questionable morals, but even that didn’t make Lin Cheng jealous.

"Aren’t you cold on the floor?" Qiao Yuhe suddenly asked, turning from the screen to look at him.

Lin Cheng startled, pointing between the laptop and Qiao Yuhe in alarm.

*The call is still on!*

"Don’t worry, I muted it." Qiao Yuhe smirked. "Come closer. I’ll warm you up."

Lin Cheng ran cold, his hands and feet always icy.

"...The carpet’s fine," he mumbled, but still shuffled over in his blanket cocoon, peeling open like a clam to collapse into Qiao Yuhe’s lap, head resting on his thigh.

The blanket’s sudden movement went unnoticed in the meeting, mistaken for Qiao Yuhe rearranging his blanket.

To stay hidden, Lin Cheng kept himself tightly wrapped, not even peeking out as he slid icy fingers beneath Qiao Yuhe’s shirt to feel his abs.

*So warm.*

Through the blanket, he could hear the discussion—Qiao Yuhe seemed displeased with overseas progress, some environmental group protesting resource development, causing delays.

Lin Cheng’s language skills had improved enough to grasp the gist.

Just as he focused, a hand slid under the blanket to squeeze and knead his cheeks.

While Qiao Yuhe spoke coolly into the call, his thumb pressed past Lin Cheng’s lips, prying his mouth open unannounced. Lin Cheng tensed, his tongue trapped, forced to suck obediently.

Qiao Yuhe held his jaw lightly, savoring the wet heat. It wasn’t intensely stimulating, but the sense of control and possession was intoxicating.

Lin Cheng sucked on the digit like a needy kitten for half a minute, but when Qiao Yuhe didn’t escalate, he grew restless, aching for something larger to stretch him.

Qiao Yuhe’s healthy habits left him tasting clean—Lin Cheng might even be addicted, despite the sore cheeks afterward.

If not for the meeting, his face would’ve been shoved down by now. The thought had barely formed when the finger withdrew, only for his hair to be seized, something scorching pressing against his cheek through the fabric, the musky scent dizzying.

*No way. Are we really doing this?*

Fantasy was one thing, but Lin Cheng didn’t want to disrupt the meeting. He kept his mouth shut, rubbing his face like an affectionate cat instead.

Bad move. The grip on his head tightened, forcing him into a rhythm, the rigid length dragging over his nose and cheekbone, bumping against his scarred eyelid until he had to shut one eye, the scarred lid burning.

Just as Lin Cheng struggled silently, the meeting was interrupted by a call.

He emerged from the blanket, flushed and disheveled, only to see Qiao Yuhe’s stormy expression.

"That’s enough for today. Meeting adjourned." The laptop snapped shut.

"What happened?" Lin Cheng asked.

"Family matter. The pregnant woman—she’s dead."

"What?" Lin Cheng froze. "But—her baby? Wasn’t she nearly full-term?"

"Details are unclear. We’ll find out when we get back." Qiao Yuhe cupped his head, kissing his forehead lightly. "Pack up. We’ll catch sleep on the flight."

Lin Cheng nodded, still groggy.

The plane landed at Jinhai Airport at seven in the morning, and they hopped into a waiting car right after disembarking.

The car stopped in front of a private hospital. "Alex, take Secretary Lin home first, then come pick me up later," Qiao Yuhe said.

"Why does Lin Cheng need to go back?" Suddenly, with a sharp slap, a hand rested on the lowered car window. Qiao Yunshen bent down, peering in with half his face visible as he grinned at the two occupants.

Lin Cheng was startled and instinctively grabbed Qiao Yuhe's sleeve beside him.

Qiao Yunshen’s gaze was unwavering as he stared at the hand Lin Cheng had placed on his younger brother Qiao Yuhe, his smile deepening. "Father already knows, my dear little brother."

Lin Cheng looked at Qiao Yuhe, totally lost by what Qiao Er was saying.

Qiao Yuhe remained silent, his face his usual impassive self.

"I’ll head over first, then." With that, Qiao Yunshen straightened up, patted the car door, and walked away.

An heavy silence filled the car for a long moment before Qiao Yuhe finally squeezed Lin Cheng’s hand and spoke. "Come in with me."

"Go in? The hospital?" Lin Cheng was still confused.

"Yes," Qiao Yuhe said gravely. "If you get angry afterward, I’ll completely understand."

Lin Cheng’s heart suddenly sank. The happiness of the past month felt like a balloon slipping from his grasp—hissing as it rapidly deflated before dropping lifelessly to the ground.

"...Qiao Yuhe, are you keeping something from me?" Lin Cheng asked.

"I’ve hidden many things from you," Qiao Yuhe answered bluntly.

...