Chapter 49: The Lion (9)

Not long after Tan Zhao left, Wen Mingwei woke up.

His brief sleep was born of exhaustion following intense intimacy, and he hadn't truly fallen into a deep slumber. Keeping his eyes closed, he felt Tan Zhao withdraw, press a kiss to his forehead, drape a light blanket over him, and dress beside the sofa. Then, the footsteps faded into the distance as Tan Zhao went upstairs.

Wen Mingwei tossed the blanket aside and sat up. His long hair cascaded down to veil his bare back, though it could do nothing to hide the constellation of dense, dark kiss marks scattered across his collarbone and neck. Completely indifferent to them, he stared blankly into space for a few seconds.

When Gu Jing entered the room, Wen Mingwei was sitting motionless like this, his expression as placid and unreadable as ever. His quiet gaze was fixed on a random point in the void, seemingly lost in thought.

Gu Jing walked closer, not daring to peer too closely at the marks marring the other man’s skin, and lowered his gaze. "Mingwei, our people stationed in Pubang managed to pry some information out of Dan Wei."

"Go ahead," Wen Mingwei said, reaching out to pull a garment over his shoulders.

Gu Jing reported, "Dan Wei crossed paths with Wen Mingzhe mid-year. At first, he was clueless about Wen Mingzhe's true background, but as their interactions continued, Wen Mingzhe kept dropping hints about his identity to buy his trust. According to Dan Wei, Wen Mingzhe not only wants to unify the borderlands, but also dreams of returning to the Alliance to restore the former glory of the Wen family."

"Delusional," Wen Mingwei remarked coldly. "His mind isn't clear."

"Dan Wei thought so too," said Gu Jing. "Yet Wen Mingzhe hinted that Dan Wei would only need to provide capital without doing any of the heavy lifting. In return, Wen Mingzhe promised to help him expand his business and bring his casinos directly into Alliance territory."

...

Establishing casinos within Alliance territory was difficult, but not entirely impossible.

The Alliance's bans on gambling and firearms had been enacted during the same era, both spearheaded by Zheng He. Yet, the rigor with which the two decrees were enforced varied vastly.

The Marshal harbored deep psychological scars regarding the gang factions led by the Wen family, making the control of firearms his absolute top priority. While the gambling industry was also socially harmful, it simultaneously generated immense wealth—particularly because several cities renowned as "gambling meccas" relied entirely on the trade to sustain their economies. Local capitalists had resisted the anti-gambling decree tooth and nail, repeatedly inciting protests to force government concessions.

Weighing the pros and cons, the Marshal went with the flow, carving those gambling cities out of the anti-gambling decree's jurisdiction and redesignating them as "Special Economic Zones," where "entertainment venues" could operate legally.

On the surface, the Marshal appeared forced into a helpless compromise, but in reality, it was a calculated exchange of interests. Those same capitalists later transformed into his behind-the-scenes financial backers, supplying him with political funds.

Gu Jing added, "Dan Wei acted as though he didn't recognize our people, but I could tell he saw right through it. He's intentionally trying to forge a connection with us."

Wen Mingwei said, "He can pass information to us, which means he can turn around and feed it to Wen Mingzhe just as easily."

He then asked, "Has Wen Mingzhe shown his face over the past few days?"

"No," Gu Jing replied. "As expected, ever since he escaped last time, he has gone deep into hiding without leaving a single trace. I estimate he won't venture out for any activities anytime soon, at least not for the next few months."

"He isn't in a rush, and neither are we."

Wen Mingwei finished dressing and stood up, glancing down at the sofa. "Have someone clean that up."

His body felt uncomfortable, faintly lingering with the scent of Tan Zhao, which stirred up memories of the intertwining scenes from just moments before.

The sheer, overwhelming pleasure had been enough to numb one's nervous system, especially when he felt a profound need for the other person. The impact Tan Zhao exerted upon him amplified in tandem; with just a single blink, he could vividly recall Tan Zhao's contours, thrusting so deep within him that it felt as though Tan Zhao had become an integral part of his own flesh and blood. It was an imprint far deeper and more enduring than any drug.

Wen Mingwei drifted off in thought for a fleeting moment. Glancing toward the stairs, he abruptly asked Gu Jing, "By the way, did you check the communication and internet logs for Tan Zhao's phone like I asked? Turn up anything?"

His topic shifted so abruptly that Gu Jing paused for a split second before answering, "His call logs show no anomalies. He hasn't logged into his social media apps much lately. There are some encrypted emails in his inbox, but since he uses his corporate email, most messages involving commercial secrets are heavily encrypted with hidden key details, making it impossible to determine anything definitive."

Wen Mingwei nodded, offering no further comment. As he reached the entrance of the stairs, he paused in his tracks, turned his head, and instructed, "Tell Xining to come over tonight. I have some questions for her."

"Understood."

***

When Wen Mingwei returned upstairs, Tan Zhao had already finished dealing with the messages that couldn't see the light of day. He was sitting in the chair by the window, reviewing company documents on his laptop.

Tan Zhao had just taken a shower, his hair still damp. He didn't seem tired in the least, capable of plunging straight back into work without needing rest—truly belonging to the type of person who grew restless when idle.

Wen Mingwei had once experienced a similar state of mind and knew that the essence of being "restless when idle" was a profound lack of security, a desperate urge to take action in order to alter the status quo.

Hearing footsteps approach, Tan Zhao looked up. "You're awake?"

"Mhm."

Wen Mingwei walked toward the bathroom. Tan Zhao stood up, followed him to the doorway, and asked, "Do you need any help?"

He had finished inside earlier, and it might not be the most comfortable thing to clean up on his own.

Instead, Wen Mingwei replied, "No need. Go back to your work."

Though they were currently in a state of "starting over," if Wen Mingwei were to cast aside all pretenses and date purely according to his own instincts, he honestly had no idea how to go about it.

Whether it was romantic love or simply building friendships, to ordinary people, these were social interactions—a process of achieving a mutually pleasant state through various forms of interaction, rooted fundamentally in mutual service.

Yet Wen Mingwei did not socialize. He only had needs.

Anyone or anything he needed, he kept. Whatever he didn't need had no reason to exist.

Nor did he care about the balance of giving, or who liked whom more; none of those concepts held any meaning for him.

However, he knew that Tan Zhao cared.

He closed the bathroom door and, through the frosted glass, saw Tan Zhao leaning against the doorframe, listening to the sound of his shower, refusing to leave.

"Are you being a bit too clingy today?" Wen Mingwei chuckled softly. "It's almost as if you did something wrong behind my back and are trying to make up for it elsewhere."

[...]

Tan Zhao choked back a retort, remaining silent.

"Take a rest for now," Wen Mingwei said. "Xining is coming over tonight. You can sit in and listen when I hold a meeting with her."