Chapter 23: Dionysus (3)

The sudden cohabitation of Wen Mingwei and Tan Zhao did not cause any discomfort to the two involved; rather, it was those around them who struggled to adapt.

The first was Gu Jing. As Wen Mingwei’s closest confidant and literal personal bodyguard, he had previously been required to stay as close to his boss as possible, on call twenty-four hours a day. Now, whenever Tan Zhao was home, Gu Jing could not get too close to Wen Mingwei. To put it positively, he had more time to rest; to put it negatively, he was facing an unemployment crisis—the Young Master wanted to fire him.

The second was the family chef. Previously, Wen Mingwei had no specific dietary preferences; as long as the food was well-prepared, he would eat anything. His menu was generally designed for health, tailored to the medication he was taking at the time, giving the chef great freedom. Now, there was a new master in the house. Tan Zhao did not have time to give instructions himself, so Secretary Han stepped in on his behalf, thoughtfully presenting a list of "Our President Tan's Daily Dietary Requirements." It detailed Tan Zhao’s likes and dislikes, noting not only his alcohol allergy but also specific, meticulous restrictions—for instance, one dish could not contain chopped scallions, while another absolutely required them. The chef was overwhelmed, his stress levels skyrocketing.

The third was the butler. Being a butler for Wen Mingwei was not taxing. The work mainly involved interior arrangement, purchasing daily necessities, and garden maintenance. While it seemed like a lot, the high degree of freedom Wen Mingwei granted made it easy for the butler, provided he didn’t cross any of his employer's boundaries. Things changed after Tan Zhao moved in. The Young Master implicitly considered this his home with Wen Mingwei as well. He would not allow anything that didn't suit his aesthetic to exist under his nose. From major furniture pieces down to the patterns on the tablecloths, he would find time in his busy schedule to exert control, insisting things be changed until he was satisfied. The butler not only saw his workload increase but also had his aesthetic judgment questioned, leaving him with grievances he could not voice.

If one were to compare the lives of Wen Mingwei and Tan Zhao to a palace intrigue drama, Wen Mingwei would be the Emperor, the villa the inner palace, and Tan Zhao like a favorite concubine who had become arrogant and overbearing the moment he gained power, making enemies everywhere and showing no restraint—theoretically not surviving past three episodes. However, given Emperor Mingwei’s indulgent attitude, he wouldn't be sent to the cold palace within "three episodes," so naturally, no one else dared to express dissatisfaction; regardless of their feelings, they had to wear a smile and obey the Young Master.

On the evening of August 19th, the fourth day of their cohabitation, the fourth "victim" appeared—Jian Xinning. It was a workday, and when Jian Xinning arrived, Tan Zhao had not yet returned. Wen Mingwei was in the study, painting with ink and wash. Wen Mingwei’s skill was average; he hadn't studied it seriously and was strictly an amateur, but it was enough to fool those who didn't understand art. Jian Xinning thought his paintings were exceptional and would sincerely praise them every time she saw them. Wen Mingwei would then take the opportunity to give them to her, and over time, she had accumulated countless "masterpieces" of his. Today’s painting was of a plant—the Dieffenbachia in the living room downstairs.

Having been by Wen Mingwei’s side for a long time, Jian Xinning was under significant pressure and was particularly sensitive, habitually analyzing his psychological state based on his behavior. For instance, if she saw him painting a certain flower, she would subconsciously ponder its language, whether it had a special meaning, and why Wen Mingwei chose it as a subject. But she couldn't immediately recall the symbolism of the Dieffenbachia. Seeing Wen Mingwei’s expression, he didn't seem to be painting seriously either; the screen of his phone on his right was lit up, and he was actually on a call with Tan Zhao.

When Jian Xinning walked in, she was unaware of this and called out "Brother" as usual. The moment she finished speaking, a voice came from the phone on speakerphone: "Who is that?"

"..." It was Tan Zhao's voice. Jian Xinning froze.

Wen Mingwei picked up the phone and said, "I have a guest. You should focus on driving. I'm hanging up."

If things had ended there, Jian Xinning would hardly be called a "victim." She had learned about Wen Mingwei and Tan Zhao’s cohabitation from Gu Jing, but because the secretary was tight-lipped and never discussed private matters behind their backs, she was unaware of the details of their daily interactions. Seeing Wen Mingwei hang up, she breathed a sigh of relief and was about to start discussing business when she suddenly heard a rhythmic rolling sound behind her. Jian Xinning didn't understand and instinctively looked back.

A household robot, about half a person's height, suddenly burst through the half-open door of the study. It let out a mouse-like "squeak," came straight to her side, brazenly opened its camera, and began recording her and Wen Mingwei. Jian Xinning looked at Wen Mingwei in a daze, not understanding what was happening. Wen Mingwei set down his brush, showing a look of annoyance and helplessness, and said to the robot, "Tan Zhao, aren't you going a bit too far?"

The robot was a monitor, not a phone, and could not reply. But as if anticipating his reaction, the "little mouse," controlled remotely by its master, triggered a pre-set command, saying in a mechanical voice: "Wen Mingwei, you have violated Article Twelve: meeting with others behind my back."

Wen Mingwei: "..."
Jian Xinning: "..."

"Indescribable" was not enough to sum up Jian Xinning's expression. Fortunately, Wen Mingwei quickly turned off the robot and tossed it into the hallway. This wise move bought them twenty minutes of private time.

Twenty minutes later, Tan Zhao returned from work. It was as if the robot thrown out of the door were the Young Master himself—he was very unhappy. The moment he got home, he knocked on the study door, still smelling of the office and wearing his suit. Two "thumps": "Wen Mingwei, I'm back."

"..." Inside the room, Jian Xinning was in the middle of explaining her and Zhou Jiwen’s new ideas for the Renxin Bridge project. Being interrupted halfway through, she expressed her speechless evaluation of Tan Zhao with silence. Wen Mingwei sat at the desk, running his fingers through his long hair to press against his head, and said in a low voice, "Come in."

The Young Master, who considered the knocking to be polite enough, strode in and glanced at the stranger across from him: "Who is this?"

"Jian Xinning, my foster sister," Wen Mingwei said, downplaying the situation. "She helps me manage the company. She’s here to report on work today; we are discussing business." The implication: Don't be jealous for no reason.

Tan Zhao understood. He wasn't truly that jealous; he simply enjoyed the satisfaction of knowing that no matter how much he acted out, Wen Mingwei would tolerate him. He was addicted to it, and even though he knew it wasn't right, he didn't want to stop. But the thought of it being "wrong" only flashed through his mind for a second; the Young Master would not reflect on himself.

Tan Zhao politely said "Hello" and gave a slight nod to Jian Xinning, who returned a smile. Before the conversation could continue, Tan Zhao’s gaze suddenly paused.

"Miss Jian," he stared at Jian Xinning’s face, feeling inexplicably familiar, "have we met before?"

"..." Jian Xinning was subtly silent.

Tan Zhao realized belatedly: "You look—we look a bit alike?"

Wen Mingwei was also silent. He then stood up and said, "Xinning, you should head back. I'll call you tonight."

Upon hearing this, Jian Xinning didn't stay a minute longer. She grabbed her bag, said a brief goodbye, and left decisively.

Tan Zhao did not notice the secret factors floating in the air. He didn't take this small episode to heart at all. He loosened his tie, walked behind the desk, kicked aside the obstructing chair, and pressed Wen Mingwei against the desk. Today, Wen Mingwei was wearing a simple white shirt, and Tan Zhao recognized it immediately—it was his own. After moving in together, they had switched to a larger wardrobe, and their clothes were hung together, but not so mixed that they couldn't tell them apart.

"Did you do that on purpose?" Tan Zhao inexplicably caught the scent of himself on Wen Mingwei, even though there was nothing there but the fresh fragrance of his shampoo.

Wen Mingwei was forced to lean back, his long hair spread across the desk. Two buttons at his collar were suddenly bitten open, and there was a sudden warmth at his collarbone—a firm, forceful kiss.

"Do you want it that much? Using these tactics to hint at me?" Tan Zhao left a trail of marks on his neck, his tone restrained. "It’s not that I don't want to satisfy you, but we’re moving too fast. Shouldn't we slow down the pace?"

"..."

Wen Mingwei laughed, his long hair trembling like water, his voice also slightly shaking: "I just put on the wrong shirt."

"Really?" Tan Zhao didn't believe him. "You had such a strong reaction when you kissed me last night."

"Wasn't it you who had the strong reaction?"

"You were the one who started it. I was just acting in self-defense and happened to launch a counterattack."

"..."

The conversation drifted after only a few sentences, with everything from last night replaying in his mind. Not just last night, but the night before as well—these past few days had been the same. Every night after the lights were turned off, they would kiss deeply and uncontrollably, over and over, yet they never took the next step. Perhaps Tan Zhao was acting with restraint because he was nervous. If one had to say, it was indeed Wen Mingwei who was more eager for him.

This desire contained a somewhat complex experimental complex, rather than a purely physical urge. For Wen Mingwei, sex, like medication, could be used as a means to control the body. While indulging in it, he observed his own reactions from a god's-eye view, as if recording a carefully conducted experiment.

However, the purpose of this experiment was hard to explain. Perhaps it was to verify that the essence of existence was void, or to find evidence that could break through that void and provide a sense of tangible reality. Wen Mingwei had thought recently that if he did it with someone he liked, the experience might exceed the "effect of the medicine" and provide him with an emotional shock.

But he had no opportunity to verify it, nor could he imagine what it would be like to sleep with Jian Qingzheng. The person in his memories was either shy and timid or silent and sorrowful, lacking any trace of desire. He could only imagine Tan Zhao’s face.

Judging by his personality, Tan Zhao might be a bit rough in bed, lacking skill, caring more about his own pleasure, and failing to look after the other person's emotions. Wen Mingwei was actually the same. If he treated himself as an experimental subject, then the one cooperating with the experiment was at best a tool, with even fewer human rights. That was why he eventually stopped liking to conduct experiments—it was meaningless.

—But Tan Zhao was different.

Wen Mingwei pushed down the suddenly drifting thoughts, closed his eyes, and shared a lingering kiss with Tan Zhao. They didn't know what average couples did when they were alone, but in the few days they had been in love, they didn't know if it was because they had just started and everything was filled with passion, but they couldn't help kissing whenever they had the chance. It wasn't clear who initiated it; it just started the moment their eyes met.

Tan Zhao was a very fast learner in this regard. In just a few days, he had evolved from having only momentum and no technique to being able to kiss Wen Mingwei until he was defenseless and oxygen-deprived. He liked Wen Mingwei to be weaker in their intimate relationship, and Wen Mingwei cooperated with him, letting him take the initiative and do as he pleased.

Besides that, Tan Zhao might have had some special quirks. Having only kissed for a moment, he suddenly remembered something. He pulled Wen Mingwei up from the desk, held him in his arms, and said, "By the way, we are together now. Shouldn't we change how we address each other?"