Set Up

Xuan Zhe was used to Western breakfasts because they were convenient. Ever since moving out, hardly anyone had made him Chinese food. Pumpkin porridge, cold side dishes, and steaming buns—Wen Shuang had no idea what time he had gotten up, but he had laid out a table full of food, fragrant enough to make one's mouth water.

"I saw there wasn't much in the fridge, so I just made a few things. Give them a try, President Xuan." Wen Shuang naturally untied his apron, completely unaware of how striking that little pink number looked on him.

Xuan Zhe swept him a discreet glance before looking at the breakfast spread. "I haven't worked out yet."

Worked out? The term was far too distant and unfamiliar to Wen Shuang. Why did people need to exercise to stay alive? Wasn't it wonderful to be a salted fish lying around in peace?

"Skipping one day won't hurt." Wen Shuang was starving and did his best to persuade Xuan Zhe. "Really, President Xuan, hurry up and eat. We still have to go to work afterward."

The meal looked incredibly appetizing. Xuan Zhe put on his shirt and sat down at the table. He barely made any noise while eating, carrying the refined elegance and propriety cultivated by an aristocratic upbringing. Even Wen Shuang was influenced by him and did not dare make a sound.

It really did taste good. The porridge was soft, glutinous, and sweet; the side dishes were refreshing; and the meat buns were delicious as well. Xuan Zhe wiped his mouth with a napkin, his expression ordinary, but inwardly he was thinking about what he had investigated before. Since first appearing in the public eye, Wen Shuang had seemed weak but was actually full of schemes. He had none of a young master's fate but all of a young master's ailments. Put simply, if no one treated him, Wen Shuang either ate out or ordered takeout. So when had he developed such impressive cooking skills?

Something just didn't add up.

Xuan Zhe got up and went upstairs to change. By the time he came back down, Cao Nanyu had arrived as well.

There was another person in the front passenger seat: an elderly man in his sixties. He was rather thin but full of vigor, smiling with narrowed eyes the whole time. Then he saw Xuan Zhe and Wen Shuang walk out of the house together, and the words he had been saying caught in his throat.

Cao Nanyu hurriedly explained, "Vice President Qian, that is President Xuan's newly hired translator, Wen Shuang. It was already very late after he parted ways with Mr. Dilanda last night. Wen Shuang didn't have his keys, and his phone had died, so he ended up staying at President Xuan's home."

"Assistant Cao..." Vice President Qian looked as though he had too much to say. "Doesn't the phrase 'ended up' burn your tongue?"

Cao Nanyu: "...Honestly, I'm starting to question my whole life too."

Even if Wen Shuang somehow "ended up" in a jail cell, there was absolutely no way he should have "ended up" at Xuan Zhe's house. Xuan Zhe had an extremely strong sense of territory and found it very difficult to accept unfamiliar people or objects. Wen Shuang had only been at the company for a few days.

Though he had a hundred thousand questions in his heart, Vice President Qian was no fool. Once Xuan Zhe and Wen Shuang got into the car, he immediately resumed his smiling expression as if he knew nothing. Cao Nanyu dropped Wen Shuang off at the company entrance, then drove Xuan Zhe and Vice President Qian to a meeting. By sheer coincidence, several people saw Wen Shuang getting out of the black Bentley. Rumors began spreading that very morning, and after Vice President Qian returned, they took a sharp turn.

Wen Shuang probably never could have imagined that Vice President Qian, one of Power One's shareholders and Xuan Zhe's father's right-hand man in his younger days, had one greatest hobby in life: gossip.

The moment Vice President Qian entered his office, he said to his confidant, "Hey, hey, did you know? That new translator, called... Wen Shuang! Right, Wen Shuang stayed at President Xuan's house last night."

He did not mention why Wen Shuang had stayed there. Following his superior's example, Vice President Qian's confidant was just as loose-lipped. The moment he stepped out of the office, he could not wait to share the news.

"Hey, hey, the new guy Wen Shuang moved into President Xuan's house."

"Hey, hey, Wen Shuang lives at President Xuan's house. They're in that kind of relationship!"

"Hey, hey, you didn't know? President Xuan is Wen Shuang's boyfriend. No wonder Wen Shuang was assigned to President Xuan's side the moment he arrived."

"Hey, hey, President Xuan is so possessive. You'd better keep your distance from Wen Shuang from now on!"

"..."

Wen Shuang knew nothing about this. He only noticed that coworkers passing by kept giving him furtive glances.

"Holy shit, no way!" Fang Su clutched her phone and gossiped excitedly with her bestie—Feng Tao, the head of the talent management department, an openly gay man who loved dyeing his hair, adored pink shirts, and was Power One's most flamboyant big brother.

When Feng Tao had first joined the company, he had fantasized about Xuan Zhe for quite some time. Then, after making a mistake at work, he had been blasted expressionlessly by Xuan Zhe for over twenty minutes during a meeting. He came out feeling like his soul had left his body, deeply traumatized. Once he recovered, he completely gave up on the untouchable flower that was President Xuan. Still, that did not stop Feng Tao from admiring Xuan Zhe's face and continuing to fantasize about him with other people, especially the company's male artists. Of course, Xuan Zhe kept himself clean, so Feng Tao was usually only entertaining himself. Who would have thought a dark horse would suddenly appear? The moment Feng Tao got the news, he went to HR and pulled up Wen Shuang's file.

Even by the ultimate test that was an ID photo, Wen Shuang's face stood out. His employee ID photo showed him with a faint smile, striking straight into Feng Tao's heart!

Feng Tao immediately sought out his bestie Fang Su, and the two of them let out high-pitched squeals in the tea restaurant.

"What kind of divine plot is this?" Feng Tao's eyes shone as he furiously tapped at his phone, joining the rest of the company under an anonymous account to build up a thread on the forum.

Fang Su responded with a smile, but a trace of worry flashed through her eyes.

Wen Shuang poured himself a cup of coffee and came out of the break room, only to run into Zhao Jiaqing from his department.

Zhao Jiaqing had previously asked Wen Shuang to print some documents and been refused. Wen Shuang had thought their relationship was doomed, because Zhao Jiaqing clearly looked like someone who held grudges. Yet when he came back, he acted as though nothing had happened. He even greeted Wen Shuang warmly whenever they met, making it seem as if they had known each other for over a decade.

Wen Shuang did not want to judge others maliciously, but something about it felt strange.

"Getting coffee?" Zhao Jiaqing struck up a conversation with Wen Shuang.

He was standing right in front of the water dispenser, with no intention of moving aside. Wen Shuang assumed he had not noticed and chatted with him anyway. But midway through the conversation, Zhao Jiaqing suddenly frowned and went, "Hm?" Then he picked up his phone and swiped at it. "Hello?" After a brief pause, he sighed. "But I still need to go downstairs to get something later. Is it urgent? Fine, I'll ask a coworker for help and come over right away."

Alarm bells instantly went off in Wen Shuang's mind.

Sure enough, Zhao Jiaqing waved his phone at Wen Shuang, looking apologetic. "Wen Shuang, I have something urgent to deal with right now. Could you help me pick something up downstairs?"

Wen Shuang firmly shook his head. "Ask someone else. President Xuan wants a translated manuscript from me right now."

At the mention of Xuan Zhe, Zhao Jiaqing hesitated, but he still would not give up. "Right now?"

"Yes, right now. Going down and back would take at least five minutes. President Xuan would scold me even if I were one minute late." Wen Shuang deftly squeezed through the gap beside Zhao Jiaqing and pointed toward the office. "I'm heading back first. Otherwise, you know what President Xuan's temper is like."

Zhao Jiaqing said nothing more. Once Wen Shuang disappeared from view, his expression immediately changed. He said coldly, "President Xuan this, President Xuan that. You're so afraid people won't know you're with him. A man with another man—disgusting!"

After returning to his desk, Wen Shuang wiped away his sweat. He had perfectly avoided a minefield. It was not that he refused to help Zhao Jiaqing; the man's acting had simply been too stiff. When he took out his phone just now, the screen had been black. No one had called at all. He only wanted Wen Shuang to go downstairs, and who knew what was waiting for him down there?

Near the end of the workday, Wen Shuang received a WeChat message from Fang Su: [Help me bring up a file from the basement level. There's a car waiting for you, license plate XXX.]

Wen Shuang did not think much of it. He trusted Fang Su completely and assumed she might be busy with no time to spare, so he took the elevator to the basement level. The area was divided into two halves. On the left was the refrigerated storage area. Power One was simply too large, with so many mouths to feed. Not only did it need daily drink supplies in the increasingly hot weather, but the cafeteria's vegetables and meat also required substantial stockpiles. Without a cold storage facility, there would be nowhere to keep it all. A short distance to the right was the parking garage.

When Wen Shuang came out, the elevator on the right side was under maintenance, so he could only take the left one to the cold storage area first. It was only a few minutes' walk.

But as he passed a cold storage room with its electrical gate open, a fierce force struck from behind. Caught completely off guard, Wen Shuang toppled inside. Before he could hit the floor, the sound of the gate slamming shut rang out. Ignoring the pain in his palm, Wen Shuang sprang up and lunged back, but the gate had already closed. No matter how hard he pounded on it, it was useless.

Wen Shuang's face turned pale. He had been set up.