Chapter 122 Day 13 of Transmigrating into a Vintage CEO Novel

Chapter 122: Day Thirteen of Transmigrating Into an Old-School CEO Novel

The smile on An Yi's face froze slightly, then he burst into laughter as if he had heard something utterly hilarious, shoulders trembling, the sound carrying far across the snow.

"I see..." He drawled, the amusement in his eyes nearly overflowing.

"So... is this you trying to say you like me?"

Gu Mingzhi's ears turned visibly red, a blush spreading quickly, though the night and moonlight helped hide it.

His Adam's apple bobbed, but his gaze remained locked on An Yi without a hint of retreat: "Yes, I like you."

An Yi shrugged exaggeratedly, then leisurely, with a look like he was appraising a piece of merchandise, scanned Gu Mingzhi from head to toe, several times over. Finally, he clicked his tongue twice, his tone dripping with regret: "Too bad..."

He lifted his eyes, refocusing on Gu Mingzhi, those beautiful eyes now filled with nothing but cold, undisguised indifference: "I don't like you."

He repeated, clearly and distinctly: "What I said before was serious. You really are... infuriating."

"There's no way I'm having a relationship with you." He paused, as if considering, then slowly, with pure malice, added: "Unless..."

He dragged out the word, savoring the sudden tension in Gu Mingzhi's expression, before finally finishing slowly: "...you be my dog."

Gu Mingzhi's eyes darkened instantly, his lips pressed into a cold, hard line. He was silent for several seconds before forcing out two words from between his teeth: "Really?"

An Yi, watching his reaction, couldn't help but laugh again, this time his laughter filled with unguarded mockery and delight: "Kidding—"

He dragged it out, enjoying the subtle shift in the other's expression, then slowly, cruelly, delivered the final blow: "Even as a dog... you're not qualified."

Comments section:

"Uh..."

"Ever since I got three shots of Sinovac, I love this kind of stuff!"

"Gu Mingzhi: I worked up the courage to come out and confess. An Yi: Oh, I hate you, get lost. (I love this!)"

"So intense! (Shaking)"

"An Yi, don't be so petty! Just let him be your dog!"

"Yeah, what's wrong with letting him be a dog? Let him lick!"

"Lick? Where?"

"Anywhere is fine!"

"Right, An Yi can let him lick and then slap him afterward!"

"Isn't that a reward? (Outraged)"

"An Yi: Drink some hot water! Gu Mingzhi: What did you put in the water? It's so hot?! An Yi: It's just water. Want something else? Add it yourself."

"..."

An Yi: ...

He gave up.

Gu Mingzhi stood there, snowflakes landing on his shoulders and melting into the dark wool of his coat, mirroring how those words had stung him: "Kidding—even as a dog... you're not qualified."

An Yi's laughter still lingered in the cold air, filled with merciless mockery, but he had already turned, stepping through the snow, strolling toward the annex. His retreating figure was as carefree as a kid who'd just pulled off a prank, content and satisfied.

Gu Mingzhi did not follow.

He just stood there, watching that figure disappear into the warm yellow light of the porch. His jaw was clenched tight, the last blush on his ears had long since gone pale from the cold, replaced by a cold, almost fierce obstinacy.

"Heh." After a long while, a low, deep laugh rolled out of his throat, tinged with self-mockery, but even more with a stirred-up, unyielding desire to win.

Disgust?

Not acceptable?

The things Gu Mingzhi wanted had never been "impossible."

----------

The next morning, the light snow had just stopped.

An Yi woke a bit later than usual. When he walked slowly into the main house's dining room, almost everyone else was done with breakfast.

Only a few stray utensils were left on the long table, along with Old Master Gu, who sat at the head reading a newspaper, and... Gu Mingzhi, sitting at his right hand, taking slow sips of his black coffee.

Gu Chengzai glanced up at An Yi, acknowledging him with a brief nod, then went back to the financial section.

An Yi gave a slight nod, walked to his usual spot at the far end of the table, and sat down. A servant soon brought him warm milk and delicate breakfast items.

He ate quietly, his posture graceful, as if the scathing, spiteful, and alluring person from the snowy night had only been a figment of Gu Mingzhi's dream.

Gu Mingzhi set down his coffee cup, the porcelain base making a crisp sound against the saucer.

Without looking at An Yi, his gaze seemed to fall on the snow-covered garden outside, he said flatly, as if in passing: "The temperature is low today. If the studio's heating isn't enough, have the butler see to it."

An Yi, who was picking up a slice of toast, didn't pause, just slightly raised his eyes, glanced at Gu Mingzhi, and gave a perfectly polite, flawless smile: "Thank you for your concern, Uncle. The studio is very warm."

Distant, polite, easily brushing off any attempt to get closer.

Gu Mingzhi's fingers holding the cup tightened almost imperceptibly. His gaze finally returned from the window to An Yi's flawless gentle mask, a flicker of irritation deep in his eyes.

Just then, hurried footsteps and stifled sobs approached from a distance.

Meng Nianwei, her eyes red and swollen, ran into the dining room, not even noticing that Old Master Gu and Gu Mingzhi were present, and rushed straight toward the staircase.

Immediately after, Gu Xinghui, looking irritated, chased in. Seeing the scene in the dining room, he paused for a moment, his expression growing even worse.

"What are you making a fuss about now!" Gu Chengzai put down his newspaper, scolding in a deep voice, with the authority of the family patriarch.

Gu Xinghui gritted his teeth and said stiffly: "Nothing, Grandpa. Just a small matter."

He glanced toward the staircase where Meng Nianwei had disappeared, his tone impatient and tinged with a hint of self-pity: "She's just too sensitive. She overthinks every little thing and starts crying."

An Yi spread butter on his toast leisurely, as if the drama before him had nothing to do with him. He picked up the warm milk beside him and took a sip, his posture relaxed.

Gu Xinghui glanced at An Yi, wondering why he wasn't defending Meng Nianwei anymore.

Gu Mingzhi, on the other hand, picked up his coffee cup again, his gaze coldly sweeping over his nephew. His tone was flat: "If you can't handle it, you shouldn't have brought her back in the first place. The Gu family isn't a place to deal with your relationship drama."

This remark was quite blunt. Gu Xinghui's face instantly flushed red. He seemed about to retort, but under his uncle's cold, heavy gaze, he swallowed his words, pressing his lips together in resentment.

Gu Chengzai frowned slightly, seeming a bit displeased with his youngest son's bluntness, but ultimately said nothing. He just waved his hand: "Enough. Both of you say less. Gu Xinghui, go upstairs and check on her."

He was, in fact, pleased with what he was seeing.

Let the fuss continue. When Gu Xinghui realized it, he would know that the marriage candidate they had chosen for him was far better.

Gu Xinghui, as if given a reprieve, immediately turned and quickly went upstairs.