“Young master — what is your choice?”
“I know you care about Sang You. But if your identity is exposed — if you can’t even protect yourself — no one will be able to protect him.”
·
·
Faced with the threat, Gong Ze thought of his teacher.
In a vast, white memory, a man with smile lines at the corners of his eyes — a man of exceptional gentleness — turned around.
“Xiao Ze, remember this: no one can win forever.”
His eyes held a faint glow as he spoke to his proud young student.
“The first lesson I want to teach you is: when you think you have complete control over the situation — that is when you must be most careful.”
·
[Host…]
The system’s voice was worried. [Are you okay?]
[I’m sorry — this is my fault! Who would have thought that Wang Liben, a minor cannon fodder who barely had any lines in the plot, would turn out to be the long-lost biological son of the hidden big boss, Yan Cheng?]
Besides, in the original plot, they never recognized each other!
Probably because the original villain Gong Ze, despite taking control of the company, hadn’t displayed any particularly impressive skills — so Yan Cheng and Qin Chuan’s father never took him seriously.
But after Gong Ze took over, wanting to train Sang You as quickly as possible, he had subdued the board of directors in just one month — something that would have otherwise taken a year or two.
This made Yan Cheng wary and prompted him to test Gong Ze in person.
The butterfly flapped its wings — and Wang Liben happened to flutter right in front of Yan Cheng.
Sigh!
What rotten luck!
[This is our mistake. Wait a moment, Host! I’ll report this to the Main God right away and see if we can void this mission!]
“No need.”
After a long silence, Gong Ze spoke up and stopped the system.
“It’s fine. Don’t report it to the Main God.”
[But…]
“It won’t do anything.”
In the Main God’s eyes, Wang Liben’s demand wasn’t even a threat — it was practically a pleasant surprise.
After all, if Gong Ze agreed to Wang Liben, Wang Liben would help Gong Ze carry out his revenge. From a mission perspective, wouldn’t that be even better?
Heh…
This wasn’t a bug — this was ‘good fortune.’
If Gong Ze refused Wang Liben, and Wang Liben told Yan Cheng about the original character’s true identity, it would likely trigger a failure ending, causing the mission to fail.
In the past, Gong Ze wouldn’t have cared. Let it fail, so what?
But now — in this world — he had someone he couldn’t leave behind.
If the mission failed, he would be forcibly ejected from this world — which was very different from the script he had planned. What would happen to Sang You?
Sang You was still too immature. If Gong Ze wasn’t there, Sang You wouldn’t be able to support the Sang family or protect himself.
…Damn it!
He couldn’t expose Sang You to the Main God.
Otherwise, Sang You would likely become leverage for the Main God to use against him. Reporting this would do Gong Ze no good at all and wouldn’t solve his problem.
After a moment of silence, Gong Ze looked at the pawn standing before him — the one he had never taken seriously, the one he had let off lightly and was now regretting.
His thumb rubbed against his index finger. His nail slowly dug into the flesh.
The pain kept him clear-headed.
“This was my mistake…”
“Agree to his terms.”
It was his own arrogance that had caused this trouble.
Anger and humiliation were useless.
He had to deal with Wang Liben himself, continue the mission, and protect Sang You.
So even if Wang Liben’s demand disgusted him — he had to agree.
Gong Ze quickly calmed down and immersed himself back into the role. ‘He’ wore a twisted, venomous glare as he stared at his former dog, as if ready to tear Wang Liben apart.
But the current ‘Gong Ze’ didn’t have the power to go up against Yan Cheng.
No matter how angry or disgusted he felt, he had no choice but to bow his head in humiliation amidst the stalemate.
After a long time, ‘Gong Ze’ ground his teeth audibly and squeezed out a single word from between them: “Fine.”
Once Yan Cheng was dead, he would definitely kill this disobedient dog!
‘Gong Ze’ thought hatefully in his heart.
Hearing this, Wang Liben’s head snapped up. His face lit up with the brightness of sudden joy.
“Young master…” He slowly walked toward Gong Ze, his fingers trembling with excitement.
He bent down, reverent and humble, to kiss Gong Ze’s lips. Just as he drew close, Gong Ze turned his head away. Wang Liben’s lips only touched his cheek.
Wang Liben was unsatisfied.
He raised his hands, cradling Gong Ze’s cold, expressionless face, eager to catch and bite Gong Ze’s lower lip — but was again avoided.
“That’s enough.”
Gong Ze turned his face to the side, staring at him, his tone icy: “Wait until you prove you’re not just talking big — that you can actually help me kill Yan Cheng. Then we’ll talk.”
“Alright. I’ll go contact him right away.”
After a moment of hesitation, Wang Liben immediately agreed. He couldn’t wait to leave and find Yan Cheng.
After he was gone, Gong Ze expressionlessly stubbed out his cigarette on a document. The force in his fingertips betrayed the storm of violence raging within.
He raised his hand and wiped the spot on his face where he had been kissed.
That look in his eyes made the system tremble in silence.
Even though Wang Liben had been the one below, this was a rare moment of humiliation for Gong Ze.
The system knew that his mood was at rock bottom. It shrank its neck like a frightened chick, not daring to make a sound.
Murderous rage surged within him. The feeling of violence and fury was almost enough to make him burst.
Gong Ze lit one cigarette after another, sitting alone in the study for a long time. Then, he stubbed out the last cigarette, rose, and went to Sang You’s room.
Sang You was sleeping restlessly.
The young master had grown accustomed to falling asleep in Gong Ze’s arms. Even when Gong Ze wasn’t there, he only slept on one side of the big bed, leaving the other side empty.
Gong Ze sat gently on the edge of the bed and looked at his sleeping face.
He watched as Sang You turned over, his hand instinctively reaching toward the empty space. The moment his hand found nothing, he jolted awake. His eyes still held traces of panic and drowsiness.
“…Gong Ze?”
Gong Ze let out a low, soft laugh. He suppressed all his negative emotions and took Sang You’s hand.
He bent down, touched the young master’s face, and softened his voice. “I’m right here. It’s okay. Don’t be scared.”
Sang You relaxed. Like a kitten just waking up, he purred and rubbed the tip of his nose against Gong Ze’s face, then wrapped his arms around Gong Ze’s neck and back.
Suddenly, he wrinkled his nose.
“You smell so much like smoke. Why did you smoke so much?”
Sang You frowned at the man in the darkness, pressing his soft lips against Gong Ze’s slightly cool lower lip.
“I told you not to smoke so much. It’s bad for you,” he grumbled. When Gong Ze parted his lips and kissed him deeply, Sang You frowned and hummed, “Your mouth tastes so bitter too.”
“Then I’ll go wash up and come back to kiss you.”
“Hey, don’t—”
Sang You grabbed Gong Ze’s hand, his heart aching. “You’ve been busy all day. It’s fine that you smell like smoke — I like the smell of tobacco on you.”
It was Gong Ze’s scent.
Not the disgusting, stale, mixed-with-bad-breath cigarette smell Sang You sometimes caught from coworkers. It was the unique, sharp scent of burning tobacco clinging to the collar of his clothes, then swept by cold wind.
It was a scent full of security — the mark of a mature man that made one’s heart race.
He loved it.
Shyly, Sang You stroked the man’s face. But his fingertips felt a tight tension in the skin beneath them. He asked, puzzled, “Have you been working too hard? You feel strange — like you’re unhappy.”
The perceptive young master tried to make out Gong Ze’s expression in the darkness.
Finding he couldn’t see clearly, he reached for the switch of the bedside lamp.
“Don’t.” Gong Ze smiled and stopped his hand. “Leave it off. It’s better without the light.” He didn’t want Sang You to see the poorly concealed emotions on his face, so he said this deliberately.
“…What feels better…”
Hearing this, Sang You was taken aback. His heart began to pound. The faint suspicion that had been stirring in the depths of his heart was like a stone dropped into a lake, now disturbed by new ripples.
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