"Take it off."

Rumble—!

A muffled clap of thunder exploded across the sky, as if it meant to split the entire city in two. Immediately afterward, raindrops as large as beans came crashing down without warning, weaving an impenetrable curtain of water that blurred the dim yellow glow of the streetlights.

Ji Mian's movement froze just as he was about to turn and step down the stairs. He stared at the sudden downpour that had swept over them in an instant, as if even the air were splashing with droplets. The only source of light in the alley flickered through the rain, casting his pale face in an increasingly indistinct light.

He turned around. Cheng Yan was still standing behind that open, paint-peeled iron door, like a silent sculpture steeped in shadow. He hadn't closed the door, nor had he said a word. He simply fixed his unfathomably deep eyes on Ji Mian, his gaze carrying a nearly cruel scrutiny, as if savoring a caged bird whose escape route had just been abruptly cut off.

Ji Mian's fingers curled inward involuntarily. Today he was wearing a well-tailored light-colored casual suit made of expensive fabric that simply couldn't withstand such a violent downpour. More importantly, he couldn't return to the Ji family in such a disheveled state—couldn't let anyone see him coming out of a place like this.

"I..." He opened his mouth, wanting to call the driver to pick him up, but swallowed the words halfway. In this narrow, dilapidated alley, a Ji family car driving in would only draw more attention.

The rain showed no signs of letting up; on the contrary, it grew fiercer. The wind whipped rainwater into the doorway, and the cold, damp air instantly soaked through the hems of Ji Mian's trousers and his shoes. He couldn't help but shiver—a wholly unfamiliar discomfort, wrapped in moisture and chill.

Cheng Yan finally moved. He didn't look at Ji Mian, but instead turned sideways, clearing the passage behind the door. His voice was low, as if steeped in the rain: "Come in."

Those two words carried no emotion. They weren't an invitation; they were more like a command that brooked no argument.

Ji Mian bit his lower lip. He had no choice. Lowering his head, he quickly stepped across the threshold and entered this cramped, unfamiliar space that belonged to Cheng Yan.

The door slammed shut behind him, cutting off the raging storm outside and completely severing Ji Mian from every familiar environment he relied on to survive. The room was so small that Ji Mian could almost touch the opposite wall with an outstretched hand. The air was thick with that particular smell unique to cheap lodgings—a blend of dampness, cigarette smoke, and disinfectant—making his temples throb.

He was dripping from head to toe. His expensive suit jacket clung tightly to his body, outlining his slender shoulders. Water droplets slid down his soft black hair, past his pale cheeks, and fell onto his slightly trembling eyelashes. He looked like a beautiful, fragile creature drenched by the storm, utterly out of place in this rough, shabby room.

Cheng Yan didn't turn on the light. Only a dim bedside lamp illuminated the room. He walked over to the table, picked up an enamel mug, and poured himself a glass of cold boiled water, never once glancing at Ji Mian again.

This silent stillness was more oppressive than any interrogation. Ji Mian stood by the door, unsure what to do with his hands or feet. He knew Cheng Yan was doing this deliberately. From the moment he'd appeared at the construction site, to being brought here, to this perfectly timed rainstorm—every step felt like stepping into the other man's invisible net. He had tried to pacify this Wild Dog with money and a house, only to end up delivering himself into the beast's den.

"Take it off." Cheng Yan finally spoke, his tone impossible to read.

Ji Mian's head shot up, his eyes full of wariness.

Cheng Yan leaned against the edge of the table, his long legs casually crossed. The dim light cast deep shadows across his face, making his gaze appear all the darker. "Want to catch a fever in wet clothes and have me take you to the hospital?" He curled the corner of his mouth, the smile carrying no warmth—only mockery. "Young Master Ji, I can't afford your medical bills."

The humiliation stung Ji Mian like needles. He understood that Cheng Yan was reminding him, in this way, of the unbridgeable gap between their social classes. Here, everything Ji Mian prided himself on was utterly useless.

He lowered his eyes and silently began unbuttoning his suit jacket. His fingers were stiff from the cold and tension, fumbling several times before getting it right. He could feel Cheng Yan's gaze on him like a tangible weight, sizing him up without any pretense, as if appraising an interesting trophy.

Jacket, shirt... When he was down to just a thin white T-shirt clinging to his body, he stopped. The T-shirt was soaked through as well, plastered to his skin, vaguely revealing the color of his skin and the delicate contours of his frame.

"The bathroom's over there." Cheng Yan jerked his chin toward the corner. "There's only one towel. Make do."

The so-called bathroom door was nothing more than a thin plastic folding door printed with long-outdated, cheap patterns. Ji Mian took a deep breath and practically fled inside, quickly pulling the door shut.

The bathroom was even narrower than he'd imagined—he could barely turn around. The grout between the wall tiles was dark with grime. A rust-stained faucet stood over the sink, and a foggy mirror hung on the wall. The only light source was the dim yellow glow seeping in from outside.

He picked up the towel hanging from a hook. It was old, washed stiff, but still fairly clean, carrying a scent of sun-dried laundry mixed with soap. He roughly wiped his hair and body, the coarse fabric against his cold skin raising a fine flush of red.

Just then, the plastic folding door was yanked open from the outside with a clatter.

Ji Mian's movements froze instantly. He turned back in terror.

Cheng Yan's tall figure filled the doorway, blocking nearly all the light. One hand still rested on the door; the other held Ji Mian's soaked shirt. He looked at him expressionlessly.

"You..." Ji Mian's voice trembled slightly with fright. Instinctively, he covered his chest with the towel.

"You're getting water everywhere." Cheng Yan's gaze swept over the wet floor at Ji Mian's feet, his tone flat, as if stating a simple fact. He casually tossed the shirt onto a chair outside the door, then stepped inside.

The cramped space became unbearably crowded with a second person's intrusion. Ji Mian was forced to step back until his back hit the cold tile wall—nowhere left to retreat. Cheng Yan's presence enveloped him overwhelmingly, carrying that unique, rough scent of dust and sweat, forcefully invading all of Ji Mian's senses.

"I-I'll do it myself..." Ji Mian's voice was hoarse.

But Cheng Yan paid him no attention. He pulled the towel from Ji Mian's hands. His movements were forceful, brooking no refusal. Ji Mian felt his wrist tighten, and his only cover was taken away.

"Don't move." Cheng Yan commanded, his voice low.

He took the towel, draped it somewhat roughly over Ji Mian's head, and began vigorously rubbing his wet black hair. Ji Mian was forced to lower his head, his forehead nearly pressing against Cheng Yan's solid chest. Through the thin layers of fabric, he could clearly feel the heat radiating from the other man's body and the steady, powerful beat of his heart.

This was an entirely unfamiliar closeness—aggressive and invasive. Ji Mian's whole body went rigid. He could feel Cheng Yan's knuckles brush deliberately or unintentionally against his scalp, the shell of his ear—every touch carried a faint electric charge that made his scalp tingle.

Cheng Yan finished drying his hair but didn't stop. He draped the towel over Ji Mian's shoulders and, with the towel as a barrier, began wiping the water from his neck and collarbones. His hands were large and rough, the warmth of his palms searing through the stiff towel, making Ji Mian's skin shiver.

This wasn't help. It was scrutiny. It was violation.