You Said No… But You Still Came

Ye Zhiqiu looked up, meeting Qin Jianhe’s eyes for a moment, then looked down, idly pushing the leftover shrimp around his bowl with a spoon.

The chair opposite moved slightly, making a faint sound. Qin Jianhe stood and went back to the kitchen.

Soon, he returned with two cups of coffee, placing one in front of Ye Zhiqiu.

“You didn’t sleep well last night,” he said. “Want some?”

“With sugar?” Ye Zhiqiu asked.

“One cube.” Qin Jianhe looked down at him. “Enough?”

“Make it two,” Ye Zhiqiu said, not holding back.

Abandoning the shrimp, he began stirring his coffee with a spoon.

“Okay.” Qin Jianhe chuckled and returned to the kitchen. A moment later, he came back with a small saucer holding two sugar cubes and a few chocolate cookies.

“You like sweets,” he said, a smile playing at his lips. “Maybe you’ll like these too.”

Ye Zhiqiu did like them, but he maintained his composure, glancing at them dismissively. “They’re alright.”

He said they were alright, but Qin Jianhe smiled. “Glad you like them.”

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

Fine. He did like them.

Placing the sugar cubes into his coffee one by one with the small tongs, he picked up a cookie and took a bite.

The rich chocolate flavor burst in his mouth. He looked up. “You don’t like sweets?”

“Not too many. But sometimes, when I don’t have time for a proper breakfast, I’ll have a piece or two for energy.” As if he found Ye Zhiqiu’s question amusing, he paused, then added, “Everyone has their own preferences.”

“Me too,” he said.

“Like roses?” Ye Zhiqiu asked, glancing at the framed rose on the windowsill.

Seeing his curiosity, Qin Jianhe retrieved the frame and placed it in front of him.

“This way you can see it better,” he said with a smile.

Ye Zhiqiu took it.

The frame was clean, almost spotless. But roses were all similar. Ye Zhiqiu couldn’t see how this one was different from any other.

Not as fresh, he thought. At least a fresh one had better color and fragrance.

“What else do you like besides roses?” he asked, genuinely curious about the preferences of someone like Qin Jianhe, who seemed to have everything. “MMA?”

“It’s a way to relax. To burn off energy and stress.” Qin Jianhe smiled. “If you want to call it a hobby, I suppose it qualifies.”

“So, the puzzle games are also for stress relief?” Ye Zhiqiu found it amusing. Seeing the colorful toys, he’d almost thought there was a child hidden inside Qin Jianhe.

“Yes,” Qin Jianhe said. “One works the mind, the other the body.”

He gave Ye Zhiqiu an unreadable look.

Last night, Ye Zhiqiu’s scratching and clawing had reminded him of a kitten without its teeth.

“I like cats,” he said.

“Hey,” Ye Zhiqiu laughed. “Besides fighting, your hobbies don’t really fit the image of a cold, aloof CEO.” He set down his cup. “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay? It’d ruin the image.”

“Okay.” Qin Jianhe laughed, also setting down his cup. “I’m going to change.”

He was wearing casual clothes, looking young and bright, not much different from an ordinary college student.

“What about you?” he asked, looking down at Ye Zhiqiu. “I have some clothes from when I was younger that might fit you.”

“I already changed.” Ye Zhiqiu tugged at the sweater he was wearing. It fit well and smelled faintly of flowers. He realized. “These are from when you were younger. How old were you?”

“Fifteen or sixteen.” Qin Jianhe pressed his lips together, unable to hide a smile.

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

Getting angry wouldn’t help. He pressed his lips together and endured.

“We ordinary people just change our clothes. We’re not like you, changing everything from top to bottom, inside and out, every day.”

He couldn’t resist a little sarcasm.

“From top to bottom, inside and out…” Qin Jianhe repeated softly, his gaze suddenly intense.

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

Somehow, he understood exactly what Qin Jianhe meant.

“Hey,” he said, putting on a brave front. “No being inappropriate.”

Qin Jianhe didn’t say anything, but his throat moved. His gaze fell on Ye Zhiqiu’s lips, which looked particularly red and soft.

He leaned down and gently caught his lower lip.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice low, instinctively parting his lips.

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

He says he knows, but…

Still, he obediently tilted his face up, instinctively matching Qin Jianhe’s rhythm.

When the kiss ended, Qin Jianhe straightened. He looked down, his thumb pressing against his lips.

“Wait for me,” he said, his voice husky. “I’ll change.”

Ye Zhiqiu pressed his lips together, his face inexplicably warm.

So much for the aloof image. He was just a kissing fiend.

He changed his mind when Qin Jianhe returned.

A well-fitted grey suit enhanced his already perfect figure: broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs.

Especially that waist…

Ye Zhiqiu pressed his lips together, remembering the sight from last night, dim light, a sheen of sweat, the flex of muscles.

His nose tingled. He looked away.

“Ye Zhiqiu.” Qin Jianhe handed him a tie. “Know how to tie this?”

Ye Zhiqiu had never heard of a fashion designer who didn’t know how to tie a tie. He was definitely doing this on purpose.

“No,” he said.

“Tie it for me.” Qin Jianhe laughed.

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

His competitive spirit stirred. He was particular. Why should he tie Qin Jianhe’s tie? Even if it was playful, he didn’t want to. They weren’t dating.

He stayed still.

Qin Jianhe moved to stand beside him. Sunlight caught his hands, long-fingered, holding the tie loosely. The strength in them made the casual gesture strangely attractive.

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

He couldn’t help thinking of the night before.

Damn.

Just as he was about to protest, Qin Jianhe’s amused voice came from above.

“I’m asking,” he said quietly. “Please?”

Ye Zhiqiu stood and took the tie.

“How are you asking?” he asked.

“Whatever you want.” Qin Jianhe looked down, watching Ye Zhiqiu’s fingers move.

Ye Zhiqiu thought for a moment, then couldn’t decide what to ask for.

“I’ll hold onto it,” he said. “When I think of something, I’ll collect.”

Qin Jianhe seemed to laugh, but didn’t answer.

Ye Zhiqiu focused on tying the tie, feeling the warmth of Qin Jianhe’s gaze.

Who said Qin Jianhe didn’t know how to do anything? He was very good at this.

If it were someone else…

He thought of Li Ling.

“Let me off a block away,” Ye Zhiqiu said, changing the subject.

“When the garage is empty,” Qin Jianhe said.

“No,” Ye Zhiqiu said. “I’m going in by myself. I don’t want to sneak around.”

He thought for a moment. “A hundred meters up. There’s a bar. It’s empty in the morning. No one will see.”

Qin Jianhe didn’t answer. He picked up his coat, a shade darker than his suit, and shrugged it on.

Something about him shifted. He seemed more imposing.

“Get dressed,” he said, handing Ye Zhiqiu his jacket, scarf, and hat.

Ye Zhiqiu did.

As he was wrapping his scarf, Qin Jianhe placed the hat on his head, tucking stray hairs behind his ears.

His fingers were warm, moving gently. It wasn’t suggestive. It was warm and safe.

Ye Zhiqiu felt a strange sensation. Like he was a child, being dressed for kindergarten.

It was unfamiliar. He remembered being young.

Tao Ruoqing bought him nice clothes, but no one fixed his shoes when they were on the wrong feet, or his buttons when they were mismatched.

Teachers would notice, would kneel and help him fix them.

He was the first in his class to dress himself perfectly, and was often praised.

But he noticed later, when Ye Zhixia started school, Tao Ruoqing helped him.

Maybe it was part of her plan, to make him feel insecure.

Or maybe she just didn’t care.

Why was Qin Jianhe so careful?

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice when Qin Jianhe took his hand. In the elevator, he saw their reflection: Qin Jianhe holding his hand and his bag.

He pulled his hand away. “You look like a parent taking a kid to school.”

“Admitting you’re a kid?” Qin Jianhe’s low voice held a hint of a smile.

“At most, I’m a younger brother,” Ye Zhiqiu said. “You’re not that much older.”

“Six years.” Qin Jianhe paused. “You called someone else ‘brother’ yesterday.”

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

Who had he called brother?

Then he remembered. On the phone with Qi Xin, he’d said sarcastically, “Brother, my work, my career mean nothing. I’m just here for you, sir?”

That counted?

The elevator reached the garage. Ye Zhiqiu grabbed his bag and stepped out without a word. Qin Jianhe followed, the corner of his mouth lifted.

* * * *

The morning traffic in the central business district was always bad. The ten-minute drive took half an hour.

At the bar, Qin Jianhe pulled over. Ye Zhiqiu checked the area before getting out.

A hundred meters was nothing. He was at the office quickly. Crossing the street, he looked back.

Qin Jianhe’s car was still there, stuck in traffic.

He laughed. It felt good. Lighter than it had in a long time.

Despite the short night, he felt energized. He worked efficiently.

* * * *

At noon, he went to the café across the street.

Qi Xin was already there, looking out. He stood when he saw Ye Zhiqiu.

“You must be tired, Xiaoqiu.” He smiled as the server brought coffee. “I asked them to add extra sugar.”

“Thanks.” Ye Zhiqiu smiled.

He was tired, but not from work.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Qi Xin was pleased with the rare kindness.

The server brought the coffee. It was safe.

Ye Zhiqiu looked around, saw familiar faces from work, and relaxed.

“Ye Zhixia called me,” Qi Xin said. “He said you and his boyfriend…”

He hesitated.

Ye Zhiqiu’s moods were unpredictable. He knew he had no right to question him.

Ye Zhiqiu looked at him, but this time, he wasn’t angry.

“Gao Wenye? That old man?” He laughed dismissively. “Does Ye Zhixia think everyone wants his trash?”

He showed Qi Xin his phone, the messages from Gao Wenye.

Qi Xin’s face darkened.

“How dare he bother you?” he said, trying to control his anger.

“What can you do?” Ye Zhiqiu smiled. “He just texts.”

“So you believed him?” Ye Zhiqiu asked.

“I… no,” Qi Xin said, feeling guilty. “Of course not.”

“Good.”

Ye Zhiqiu’s eyes were warm, brown like honey in the light.

Qi Xin’s heart raced. He felt warm inside.

He was more attentive during the meal.

Knowing Ye Zhiqiu wasn’t interested in Ye Zhixia’s crush was a relief.

He thought of the bottle.

Ye Zhixia was vicious. But he couldn’t help looking at Ye Zhiqiu.

He seemed softer today. His lips were redder.

“Qi Xin,” Ye Zhiqiu said, noticing his gaze. “What does it take to really win someone over?”

“Marriage?”

Ye Zhiqiu smiled, shaking his head.

“For me,” he said, “they have to be good to me.”

“I’ll be good to you, Xiaoqiu.”

“A marriage certificate means nothing,” Ye Zhiqiu said, ignoring him. “s*x means nothing. Someone who is good to me, who doesn’t betray or scheme against me, might earn my trust.”

He laughed. “Gao Wenye? He’s just a dog. He’s not loyal to anyone.”

Qi Xin didn’t hear the rest.

A marriage certificate means nothing. s*x means nothing.

It hit him like a weight.

He broke out in a cold sweat.

If he kept his arrangement with Tao Ruoqing secret, Ye Zhiqiu wouldn’t know. But the bottle…

He had thought about using it.

He had to get rid of it.

* * * *

On Thursday afternoon, Zhou Hui came for her fitting.

She was tall and thin, looking listless. In the red gambiered silk dress, she lacked presence. But her figure was perfect.

She wasn’t satisfied with herself.

Her life and career hadn’t been smooth. She lacked confidence.

After the fitting, she spoke up.

“Teacher Ye, maybe you should find someone else.”

She’d never walked in a show this big. She did small shows, wherever she was needed. She’d never even done a major domestic show.

This was a dream, but she lacked the courage.

“Be confident,” Ye Zhiqiu said. “Let’s try with makeup.”

She looked at Wang Ru, who was also uncertain after her experience with Wei Tingjin.

The makeup artist arrived. Ye Zhiqiu explained what he wanted, based on her future style and the dress.

She wasn’t meant to be famous yet.

In her past life, Zhou Hui’s confidence had come later.

The artist, used to show makeup, created a bold, innocent look.

The gambiered silk was elegant, even in red. The boldness of the makeup balanced her uncertainty.

“Try again,” Ye Zhiqiu said.

She went to change.

The dress was beautiful, like a piece of sunset. She had never seen anything like it.

She was careful, afraid of ruining the makeup.

When she came out, she looked at Ye Zhiqiu and Wang Ru.

Ye Zhiqiu’s expression hadn’t changed much, but Wang Ru’s eyes lit up.

She looked at Ye Zhiqiu, but his expression was serious.

“Teacher Ye,” Zhou Hui said.

“Look in the mirror,” he said.

She turned.

The skirt moved like clouds. She looked at herself.

She felt, for the first time, that she was beautiful.

Her shoulders were straight, her waist small, her legs long. The red silk suited her.

If she could be more at ease…

“Why aren’t you confident?” Ye Zhiqiu asked. “You see yourself. You’re beautiful. Talented.”

She felt tears.

“I’ve never done a show like this,” she said. “Mostly department store shows. I’ve worked hard, but…”

“Are you like this at department store shows?” he asked.

She shook her head. That was familiar.

“Then treat it the same,” he said. “The ground is the same. The runway in Paris is just like the one at the mall.”

“If you’re nervous,” he smiled, “pretend it’s a department store show.”

She closed her eyes, thinking.

Wang Ru watched. She saw the change.

The stiffness left her body. Her posture relaxed. Her expression calmed.

She was beautiful.

How did Ye Zhiqiu see it?

“Good,” he said. “Find someone to work with her before the show.”

Wang Ru nodded, confident now. After Zhou Hui changed, she took her to a teacher.

Ye Zhiqiu lit a cigarette, his hands steady.

In his past life, Zhou Hui’s fame had come later. He’d seen her success, not her struggles.

She was talented. She learned quickly. She was insecure but stubborn.

He believed she would do well.

It was a reminder. He couldn’t rely on his past knowledge. He needed to see clearly.

The phone rang.

“Ye Zhiqiu,” Qin Jianhe’s voice said.

His hand jerked, ash falling on his shirt.

“President Qin.” His voice was steady, but his heart raced.

“Come to my office.”

“Business or personal?” he asked.

A low laugh.

“Both.”

“You’re making things up,” Ye Zhiqiu said. “I’m busy.”

He hung up. Then he stubbed out his cigarette and went upstairs.

At Qin Jianhe’s office, he realized what he’d done.

Zhou Tongxin came out.

“Teacher Xiao Ye,” he said. “Here to see the boss?”

“I wanted to talk about the show,” Ye Zhiqiu said, keeping his expression professional.

“Good timing,” Zhou Tongxin whispered. “The boss has been in a good mood. He was just on the phone, smiling.”

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

Zhou Tongxin had never seen him smile like that.

He went in.

The door opened before he knocked.

Qin Jianhe’s eyes were dark, burning. Ye Zhiqiu’s mind went blank.

He was pulled inside. The door clicked shut. Locked.