Chapter 6: The Veil of Maya (6)

In the stifling heat of a summer afternoon, the woods were mottled with shifting light and shadow. The human-shaped moving targets, circling along their tracks, stood like a silent audience, watching the two figures locked in a standoff from afar.

Although Wen Mingwei’s gun was still pressed against Tan Zhao’s neck, the balance of power had already shifted. Tan Zhao, with calm indifference, pushed his throat forward, his hand firmly gripping the wrist holding the gun.

"Speak," Tan Zhao said, his tone bordering on arrogant. "Do you like me?"

"..."

Wen Mingwei did not pull away, but under that interrogation-like gaze, his wrist trembled, causing the muzzle to slip down by a centimeter.

This tiny loss of control seemed to confirm Tan Zhao’s suspicion. The young master’s aura grew even bolder. "Did I misjudge you? Too afraid to admit it?"

"No," Wen Mingwei smiled, trying to ease the tension. "Don't talk nonsense."

"Oh, nonsense," Tan Zhao nodded. "So that look you gave me just now wasn't you wanting to kiss me, but me being too narcissistic and misinterpreting things?"

"..."

Wen Mingwei remained silent, his expression unreadable, yet his gaze uncontrollably swept over Tan Zhao’s neck, jaw, and lips before he bashfully lowered his eyes, leaving a distinct shadow of lashes upon his face.

"Wen, Ming, Wei," Tan Zhao said with a straight face. "I'm leaving. Go play by yourself."

It was a threat—a suitor always has the leverage to be threatened. Tan Zhao let go of the pistol and turned to walk away.

Wen Mingwei chased after him immediately. "—Don't go."

The person in front didn't slow his pace by even half a step. Wen Mingwei seemed slightly nervous, yet he tried to maintain his usual composure, covering his unease with a laugh. "Don't go so early; there are still many guns you haven't tried yet."

"I don't want to play anymore."

Tan Zhao turned back. "Like is like, and dislike is dislike. I hate ambiguity. People like you make me feel that you’re insincere, uncomfortable, and I don't want to be with you."

Wen Mingwei paused. "Am I that annoying?"

"Yes," Tan Zhao lifted his chin and cast a sidelong glance at him.

As expected, the smile on Wen Mingwei’s face faded, revealing a hint of vulnerability. "Tan Zhao, I didn't mean to."

"Oh?"

"I heard you don't like being confessed to, so..."

Wen Mingwei’s expression was quiet, and he looked at him earnestly as he spoke. It was clear he really wanted to kiss him; he could hold back once or twice, but it was hard to hide it when the impulse struck repeatedly. Like a form of addiction, his body unconsciously leaned toward him, and he murmured his name: "Tan Zhao—"

The tone wasn't unusual, yet it sounded startlingly obsessive. Tan Zhao felt a numbness at his earlobes. Wen Mingwei had already pressed close to him, returning to the previous intimate posture, even closer than before. "May I confess to you?"

It wasn't a simple question; it was almost a plea. "Will you hate me even more?"

"..."

Tan Zhao didn't answer. For a moment, he felt an adrenaline rush, a pleasure that was entirely unexpected.

Before he could figure out the source of that pleasure, Wen Mingwei spoke again: "Actually, I have liked you for a long time. Even when you didn't know who I was, I..."

The second half was difficult to voice, but unavoidable. "...I have always been secretly in love with you."

"Really?" Tan Zhao was surprised. "When did it start? What do you like about me?"

Wen Mingwei, who had likely praised him countless times in secret, answered without hesitation: "Everything. You’re smart, academically excellent, so handsome, have a great physique, and you have strong morals and keep yourself clean. Although you have a bit of a temper, you’re even cuter than those who don't. Who wouldn't like you?"

Tan Zhao: "..."

Tan Zhao remained silent for a full half-minute, his ears turning a strange shade of red.

But a young master with countless suitors would not be moved by such low-level sweet talk. He chilled his face and said, "Is that all? You’re so superficial, only looking at the surface."

"Because I don't know you well enough yet," Wen Mingwei smiled. "If you are with me and give me a chance to get to know you deeply, I’ll know how to compliment your soul."

Tan Zhao glanced at him. "That doesn't seem appropriate, does it? I don't know you at all."

"It's not too late to get to know me now," Wen Mingwei said. "What do you want to know? Just ask me directly."

"..."

Tan Zhao hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to show any interest in Wen Mingwei, but he was indeed curious.

Lowering his voice, he maintained the tone of interrogating a prisoner. "In that case, give an account of your family background, your real profession, and your past relationship history."

Wen Mingwei was very cooperative. "Which one should I start with?"

Tan Zhao said, "In order. No stalling."

"Hmm... let me think." Wen Mingwei led him back to the SUV, moved the obstructive guns aside, and sat in the backseat with him.

The atmosphere of chatting in an open-air but confined space was very different. Inside the car, it felt more tense and private; once the doors were closed, no one would see even if something happened.

Yet, Tan Zhao’s deliberately cold face clearly read, "Nothing is going to happen."

Wen Mingwei smiled and asked before beginning his account: "Do you have any guesses about my background?"

"I have some, but I’m not sure." Tan Zhao looked down at the guns beside him.

—When seeing a person named Wen associated with firearms, anyone’s first reaction would be to think of the "Wen" family from New Continent.

Wen Mingwei happened to be from New Continent.

Tan Zhao looked at him suspiciously, and Wen Mingwei provided the confirmation. "That’s right. I am from that Wen family."

His phrasing was subtle, avoiding introducing whose son he was. "I grew up in Dragon City, practiced shooting since I was a child, faced heavy academic pressure, and lived in a tense family atmosphere, but other than that, there was nothing special."

"..."

The words were spoken lightly. Even if Tan Zhao didn't know the Wen family well, he understood that he had glossed over far too much.

After all, the Wen clan that once dominated New Continent was a notorious criminal syndicate. It was the head of all gangs within the Alliance and the largest arms smuggler—though "smuggling" hardly described it. Everything the Wen family did was out in the open; they monopolized maritime trade routes and prominently carved the "Black Iris" family crest onto the prows of their ships, leaving the Alliance government helpless.

However, things turn into their opposites at the extreme; even the most prosperous family can collapse in an instant.

Later, the members of the Wen family either died or fled. The towering structure crumbled into dust, and not even the basic story of its rise and fall was left behind, leaving no room for speculation.

Later, the generally accepted explanation was that the fall of the Wen family was plotted by the government, because only after that did the Alliance truly have laws. The gun ban followed immediately, and arms smuggling became a much more severe crime. The Wen family was like the chicken killed to warn the monkeys; once it died, all potential criminals in the Alliance behaved themselves.

If he were listening to this as gossip, Tan Zhao would inevitably comment, "They deserved it." But this wasn't gossip; it was Wen Mingwei’s family history.

He thought to himself that regardless of Wen Mingwei’s status in the family back then, it was impossible for him to have any power now. The only reason he could still operate a private shooting range and play with the latest guns from last year was, at best, because he was a fallen aristocrat with a few remaining connections.

—How pitiful.

"It’s my fault," the young master thought, and for the first time, he was uncharacteristically considerate. "I shouldn't have asked about your family and stirred up bad memories, right? Let's change the subject. What do you do now? Do you really run a pharmaceutical company?"

"That's right," Wen Mingwei said, seven parts false and three parts true, downplaying the situation. "But I don't run it well. I don't make much money, and it might go bankrupt by the end of the year."

"..."

The way Tan Zhao looked at him became even more pitiful. He said speechlessly, "Wen Mingwei, you look quite capable; why are you such a facade? You can't even manage a small company?"

Wen Mingwei was not ashamed but proud. "That’s why I want to be a kept man."

He leaned toward Tan Zhao from the side, resting his chin on the other man’s shoulder, and whispered with a laugh: "Don't reject me, okay? Where would I find someone even richer if I miss out on you?"

Tan Zhao’s face darkened. "I’m rejecting you right now."

"Just kidding." Wen Mingwei laughed, his breath ragged. His long hair fell onto Tan Zhao’s lap, covering a certain spot below his waist, flicking back and forth with the owner’s movements.

Tan Zhao uncomfortably grabbed the mischievous lock of hair and said in a low voice, "Can you control your hair?"

Wen Mingwei gathered his long hair to the other side upon hearing this.

Tan Zhao: "Continue. What about your relationship history?"

"..."

Wen Mingwei suddenly fell silent. Catching his expression, Tan Zhao scoffed, "What, an ex you can't forget?"

"No," Wen Mingwei said. "I’ve never been in a relationship. You won't believe me if I say it."

"You know I don't believe you, yet you’re still making it up?"

"It’s true."

Wen Mingwei sighed helplessly. "I only had one experience of liking someone before, but I never dated him."

"Who was it?"

"A friend," Wen Mingwei paused and said, "...a good friend who grew up with me."

Tan Zhao stared at him coldly.

"It was a long time ago."

Wen Mingwei’s voice was soft and airy. "Back then—my family’s actual situation was even more intense than what I just told you. For some complicated reason, I was often beaten as a child. Everyone around me just watched, but only this friend stood up for me, took the beatings in my place, and took care of me..."

Tan Zhao frowned. "You liked him since you were a child?"

"No, I wasn't enlightened when I was young. My mind was full of ambition, and I didn't think of anything else. Although he was the best to me, he was just a friend."

"..."

"Later, when we both grew up, I realized I liked him, but I didn't know if he liked me. Theoretically, I could have tested the waters back then, but unfortunately, I was too busy. I had so little sleep every day that I didn't have the energy to date."

"And then?"

"And then," a tremor slipped through Wen Mingwei’s restrained voice, "I didn't expect that on the very day I finally had the energy and courage to decide to confess to him, he suddenly—"

He stopped speaking with difficulty.

Tan Zhao added, "Got together with someone else?"

Wen Mingwei didn't answer. Tan Zhao took it as an admission and felt it was a delight to see. "It seems your taste isn't that great, and you have a habit of being delusional."

Wen Mingwei smiled indifferently, bringing his momentarily drifting emotions back on track. "In any case, it was only after that that I realized if you like someone, you should pursue them early, keep them by your side, and don't let the opportunity slip away."

His gaze returned to Tan Zhao. "If I could have a chance to start over—"

"You still want to pursue him?"

"No, it's you."

Wen Mingwei said, "The person I like now is you, Tan Zhao. Will you be with me?"

"..."

Tan Zhao sat upright, but Wen Mingwei leaned closer and closer, hanging on his shoulder. It seemed his addiction to wanting to kiss him had flared up again; even knowing it wasn't dignified, he didn't care—he just wanted to force himself upon him.

The displeasure Tan Zhao felt from the previous story subsided a bit, and he decided to give Wen Mingwei a chance to be "forced."

"You know I don't like dating," Tan Zhao ran his hand into Wen Mingwei’s hair, learning on instinct how to enjoy a sense of control, and pressed down on the back of his head. "But since you like me so much, I’ll give you a chance to pursue me—I won't agree to you without you even trying, alright?"