Chapter 120 Day 11 of Transmigrating into a Vintage CEO Novel

Chapter 120 The Eleventh Day of Falling Into an Old-School CEO Novel

An Yi has found something amusing to toy with.

He appears to truly regard Gu Mingzhi as a novel "toy," with a subtle yet distinct shift in his attitude.

He no longer avoids Gu Mingzhi's presence, and even occasionally actively appears before him.

But his gaze is no longer icy disdain or polite distance—it carries a kind of playful, appraising interest, as if sizing up a curious collectible, thinking about where to cut first.

Gu Mingzhi, sharp as ever, almost immediately detects this change.

He knows full well that An Yi hasn't suddenly changed his opinion of him; behind that seemingly relaxed demeanor lies a deeper intent to toy with him.

However, rational understanding can't stop the emotional and instinctual vortex of being irresistibly drawn in.

That evening, snow falls again in fine, dense flakes.

Gu Mingzhi finishes a lengthy transoceanic video conference, rubs his brow, and leaves the study. As if on a whim, he circles back to the corridor leading to the annex.

The studio door is ajar, giving off warm light and a strong scent of turpentine.

He moves closer and sees An Yi standing with his back to the door, in front of an easel.

He's changed into a loose black turtleneck, making the contours of his neck and profile appear even more delicate and refined.

He seems to be mixing colors, his arm moving slowly and rhythmically, focused and quiet.

Gu Mingzhi doesn't make a sound; he just leans against the doorframe, watching quietly.

In this moment, An Yi, stripped of all thorns and pretense, exudes an almost sacred, pure artistic aura immersed in creation—a stark contrast to the wicked man who said, "Be my dog."

This intense contrast is like the deadliest poison, making Gu Mingzhi's heart pound uncontrollably.

Perhaps the gaze is too intent; An Yi, sensing something, turns his head slowly.

Seeing it's Gu Mingzhi, he shows no surprise. Instead, he gives a very faint, shallow smile: "Uncle, is something the matter?"

Gu Mingzhi straightens up and walks into the studio.

His eyes sweep over the easel—a new painting. Large patches of dense, dark red and black intertwine, as if depicting some fiery yet suppressed inner storm. Completely different from the covered blue painting, yet equally impactful.

"Just taking a walk," Gu Mingzhi says flatly, but his eyes rest on An Yi's fingers, smudged with a bit of magenta and titanium white paint. "What are you painting?"

"Just doodling." An Yi mimics his tone, setting down the palette and picking up a soft cloth to wipe his hands leisurely, each move exuding a kind of lazy elegance. "Still not satisfied, Uncle?"

Gu Mingzhi steps closer, stopping beside him at a distance neither close nor far—just enough to feel each other's body heat. "I'm more curious about you."

He says bluntly, his gaze locked onto An Yi. "For instance, what scheme are you plotting in your head right now?"

An Yi pauses in his wiping, looks up at him, those beautiful eyes shimmering with subtle light under the lamp. "What scheme does Uncle think I'm plotting?"

He raises his hand and slowly, deliberately, smears the remaining red paint from his fingers onto Gu Mingzhi's cheek.

Gu Mingzhi's senses follow the touch of An Yi's fingers, burning straight into his heart.

He wants to reach out and grab An Yi's wrist, but An Yi withdraws his hand just before Gu Mingzhi can, leaving him grasping at air.

"I think you're figuring out how to embarrass me more." Gu Mingzhi's tone is calm, even carrying a hint of self-mockery.

Hearing this, An Yi suddenly lets out a low laugh, clear and melodious.

He leans forward, closing the distance to a dangerously ambiguous range. He can clearly see his own reflection in Gu Mingzhi's pupils.

"Embarrass?" he breathes, his voice dropping to a low, seductive murmur. "That would be too dull. I was thinking..."

His gaze slowly traces over Gu Mingzhi's lips, then returns to his eyes. "Whether Uncle's mouth, besides saying annoying things, could also... be used for something else?"

The implication is too obvious, almost a tease.

Gu Mingzhi's Adam's apple bobs violently, his breath catching abruptly.

He knows clearly that An Yi is toying with him—those eyes gleam with pure, almost naive mischief, not affection.

But his body's instinctive reaction overpowers his reason; a wave of heat courses uncontrollably through him, tensing his muscles.

Comments:

"OMG OMG! What is An Yi doing?!"

"Openly flirting with Uncle?! Who can handle this?!"

"Gu Mingzhi: My reason tells me he's playing me, but my body won't listen!"

"An Yi: Hey, just having fun~"

"Uncle's Adam's apple moved! He moved! He's stirred! (screaming)"

"This isn't flirting—this is straight-up taming!"

"Does An Yi teach classes? I'll kneel to learn!"

"..."

Just as Gu Mingzhi is on the verge of losing control completely, about to make some irreversible move driven by instinct, An Yi lightly, with an unidentifiable soft laugh, straightens up and calmly steps back, closing the distance as if the person who had just emanated deadly allure and spoken provocatively wasn't him at all.

He turns, picks up a clean brush, spins it deftly between his long fingers, and says in a relaxed tone: "Just a joke. Uncle didn't take it seriously, did he?"

Gu Mingzhi watches him instantly revert to that cloud-light, carefree attitude as if nothing happened. A stifling, restless anger surges from the depths of his heart, scorching his reason but with no outlet, choking in his throat.

He has indeed been played—provoked blatantly and effortlessly by the other, who now acts as if he's the one who can't take a joke.

This complete loss of emotional control, so unfamiliar to Gu Mingzhi who is used to commanding and controlling everything, is both foreign and captivating.

He takes a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the agitation inside, his voice tinged with a barely perceptible hoarseness: "An Yi, do you really find this so interesting?"

"Hm?" An Yi raises an eyebrow, noncommittal, those eyes still brimming with playful amusement. "Doesn't Uncle find it interesting?"

Gu Mingzhi falls silent.

Uninteresting? Quite the opposite.

This feeling of teetering on the edge of losing control, heart racing, completely led by the other's emotions—it's damn exciting.

He has to admit, he's addicted.

And his silent reaction seems to please An Yi.

The curve of his lips deepened, like a cat that had finally succeeded in toying with its prey, satisfied and smug, lazy and dangerous.

Just then, the faint sound of a muffled argument drifted from the main building, breaking the tense atmosphere in the studio.

It was Gu Xinghui and Meng Nianwei.

An Yi: ...

Gu Mingzhi: ...

Perfect timing.