Business Matters

"Mr. Jiang wants you to help him in court. Wen Jie will make things difficult if he does it alone," Song Yuhang explained, his voice steady.

Liang Minghao leaned back in his chair, swirling the whiskey in his glass before taking a slow sip.

"Hold up." His brow furrowed slightly. "If the documents don't belong to Yanxu, why does he want them? That's illegal."

He chuckled before he added, "I always thought he was obsessed with honor, not wealth. This isn't absolutely his style."

Song Yuhang shook his head. "I don't know his true motives, Mr. Liang, to be honest. But knowing he has a plan—besides, Wen Jie may not be just any lawyer—his track record proves he's ... cunning."

Liang Minghao let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, I get it. That bastard has a reputation." He exhaled, smoke curling from his lips as he studied Song Yuhang. "But that still doesn't answer my question, though. What does Yanxu really plan?"

Song Yuhang remained silent. Jiang Yanxu hadn't given him the details—just a direct order and a warning about trusting Wen Jie. And from what he had learned over the years working for the Jiang family, when Jiang Yanxu said he didn't trust someone, it wasn't a casual remark. It was a calculated statement that always signaled something deeper, urgent.

Liang Minghao sighed, rubbing his temples, trying to get a straight answer out of Song Yuhang was pointless.

With a flick of his fingers, Liang Minghao signaled one of his men to hand him his phone. He pressed the button and brought the phone to his ear. The dial tone barely rang before the call was answered.

"Are you planning to handle this in court, or do you prefer something less legal?" Liang Minghao asked, his tone edged with amusement.

Jiang Yanxu's response was swift and certain. "I sent Yuhang because I trust you to make a good choice for me. Don't mess this up."

The call ended.

Liang Minghao stared at his phone for a second, then laughed under his breath. He turned to Song Yuhang with a smirk. "Your boss is the same as ever. He always manages to back me into a corner in the most unique ways."

Song Yuhang's face remained unreadable. He knew the comment wasn't meant for him—it was Liang Minghao's way of voicing his frustration with Jiang Yanxu's relentless methods.

With a sigh, Liang Minghao stood. Song Yuhang followed him.

Tilting his head slightly, Liang Minghao smiled—a slow, knowing curve of his lips. "Fine. I'll help him. But tell your boss to behave himself this time, okay? Let him know that, for once, Minghao is the one calling the shots."

With that, Song Yuhang gave a polite nod before leaving, his footsteps disappearing down the hall.

Back in his bedroom, Liang Minghao found the boy still sprawled on the bed. His slender body barely covered by the sheets. The dim lighting cast soft shadows over his smooth skin, highlighting the delicate contours of his youthful body.

For the past thirty minutes, he had waited—his body flushed, his breathing uneven, still trembling from the abrupt interruption. He had been so close, his body strung tight with anticipation, only to be left stranded on the edge.

As soon as Liang Minghao entered, the boy's eyes lit up with a mix of longing and impatience. He stretched out languidly, his every movement deliberate, an unspoken invitation laced in the way he arched his back ever so slightly.

But Liang Minghao didn't take the bait. Instead, he looked exhausted, frustration simmering beneath his usually composed expression. The fire from before—the hunger—was gone.

The boy frowned, propping himself up on one elbow. "Are you not interested in me anymore?" His voice was quiet, laced with insecurity.

Liang Minghao let out a low sigh and dropped onto the bed beside him. "We can continue another time. I'm not in the mood tonight."

The boy scoffed, rolling onto his side to face him. "You were in the mood before you left." His fingers trailed lightly over Liang Minghao's arm, his touch featherlight but insistent. "What happened?"

Liang Minghao tilted his head, looking up at the ceiling. "Business happened."

"Business always happens," the boy muttered, resting his chin on Liang Minghao's shoulder. "And it always ruins everything."

Liang Minghao chuckled, though there was little amusement in it. "Not everything." He turned his head slightly, eyes meeting the boy's. "Just tonight."

The boy sighed dramatically. "So what am I supposed to do now? Just sit here and suffer?"

"You could try sleeping."

"You could try touching me."

Liang Minghao smirked. "Tempting."

"So do it," the boy murmured, his lips dangerously close to Liang Minghao's ear.

For a moment, there was silence—charged, electric. Then, with an exasperated groan, Liang Minghao reached out, tugging the boy close, but only to bury his face in his hair. "You're impossible."

"I'm adorable."

"You're insufferable."

The boy grinned, but it faltered when Liang Minghao didn't take things further. His fingers curled against his chest, his voice smaller now. "Will you at least hold me?"

Liang Minghao exhaled slowly. Then, without another word, he wrapped an arm around the boy, pulling him against his chest. The boy sighed into his warmth, his earlier frustration melting into something softer, something almost content.

Even if his body still ached with unmet desire, at least this—being in Liang Minghao's arms—was enough. For now.