A toast to Director Feng

This was not just a resemblance. They looked absolutely identical.

Everyone there stared wide-eyed, comparing the photograph with Pei Yang standing before them in disbelief.

The effeminate floor manager, frantic just moments ago, looked at Pei Yang as though he had found a priceless treasure. He could not bear to take his eyes off his face for even a second. He eagerly grabbed Pei Yang's hand, his delight plain to see. "Sweetheart, which club are you from? Who brought you here?"

Pei Yang coldly pulled his hand free. "Please take me to see 'Young Master Wei.'"

"Of course, of course. Right this way!"

The manager treated Pei Yang like a treasure. He was a walking money tree, after all. As he led him along, he explained the rules of being an escort. "Sweetheart, let me tell you, Young Master Wei, the man you'll be serving tonight, is one of our most honored guests. He never spends less than a hundred grand a visit!"

He pointed ahead. At the end of the corridor stood a large private room with double doors, with a whole group of neatly dressed staff waiting outside-a clear indication of how important this "Young Master Wei" was.

"Young Master Wei personally oversaw the work on this room. It's exclusively his! Not many people get to go inside. I've known him for so long, and this is the first time I've seen him put so much effort into finding someone. You look exactly like the person in that photo! You were born to make a living with that face..."

"Let me put it this way. Keep Young Master Wei happy, and even a casual tip from him will be enough for you to..."

"I get it," Pei Yang interrupted impatiently. "Can you walk faster?"

"Sure, sure. Remember to smile more when you see him." They stopped outside the private room, and the manager gave an order. "Open the doors."

Two attendants pushed the double doors open, one on either side. Music spilled out, and then Pei Yang heard a voice he suspected belonged to "Young Master Wei." "Well? Have you found him? It's been half an hour. If you still can't..."

"We found him! We found him!" The effeminate manager waved his arms like an old palace matron, lacking only a handkerchief to complete the picture. "You'll be absolutely satisfied."

"Bring him in. Let me see."

Feng Wanting sat in the middle of the sofa with his legs spread, elbows resting on his knees and a half-full glass in his hand. The two boys beside him competed to top up his drink. He said nothing, utterly uninterested in the "substitute" about to come inside.

"Come on, sweetheart. Come in and let Young Master Wei have a look."

Pei Yang glanced curiously around the private room. Its layout and furnishings were vulgar in the extreme, without a trace of beauty. It felt like a nouveau riche man desperate to wear every last asset he owned for everyone to see.

A row of people sat on the long sofa, and it was obvious who mattered and who did not. The first person Pei Yang noticed was not Young Master Wei, but Feng Wanting.

"..."

His pupils contracted sharply as his eyes met Feng Wanting's, surrounded by several male escorts.

Feng Wanting's grip tightened around his glass, and he instinctively sat up straight.

"Holy shit! Where did you find him? He looks so fucking alike!" Wei Ziyun jumped up in excitement and hurried over to Pei Yang, huffing as he went. Bending forward, he studied him up close for a long while before marveling, "He's gorgeous..."

Pei Yang deliberately avoided him, lowering his eyes and taking a step back.

"Wanting!" Still oblivious, Wei Ziyun casually pinched Pei Yang's face to show him off to Feng Wanting. "What do you think? Looks enough like him, right? God, they could be twins."

Feng Wanting dug his fingertips into his palm. His eyes had never left Pei Yang.

He was still grappling with the unbelievable possibility that Pei Yang moonlighted as an escort after work when Pei Yang suddenly flung Wei Ziyun's groping hand away and snapped, "Don't touch me."

"Wh-what?" Wei Ziyun had never been treated like this by an escort. He drew out an indignant "Hey!" before demanding, "What's your problem?! Where did you find this guy? Doesn't he know any manners?"

"Th-this..." The manager was scared half out of his wits and joined Wei Ziyun in scolding him. "Who's your boss? Which club sent you over? Didn't anyone teach you how to..."

"Did I ever say I was an escort?" Pei Yang demanded, looking at him.

"You..."

"You're not an escort?" Wei Ziyun froze. Then, realizing something, he hurriedly looked at Feng Wanting's expression.

Feng Wanting remained silent, his gaze lifting to stare unblinkingly at Pei Yang.

Wei Ziyun had never seen that look in his eyes before. It held so many complicated emotions, nothing like the response anyone would have to an escort he had never met.

Pei Yang's Adam's apple bobbed, and his eyes prickled. He had never imagined Feng Wanting could have anything to do with this scene. Feng Wanting was gentlemanly, refined, and understated. Though he lived in a large three-story villa, its decor was nothing like this decadent den of debauchery. Nothing about him gave the impression of a rich heir or a spoiled young master, and that had naturally made Pei Yang feel there was little distance between them.

The reality was otherwise.

But Pei Yang quickly figured it out. Including tonight, this was only the fourth time he had met Feng Wanting. How could he possibly see someone for who he truly was after just four brief encounters? Besides, what kind of relationship did they have? A physical one born of their inability to control their urges?

Seeing Feng Wanting surrounded by male escorts made Pei Yang deeply uncomfortable, but he knew he had no right to feel that way. The only reason it bothered him was that he had thought too highly of Feng Wanting and forgotten he was a young master who had been born into the spotlight, adored and indulged from the start.

So drinking, partying, and living a debauched life were only to be expected.

Every flattering illusion he had held about Feng Wanting shattered in that instant. Pei Yang looked at him and smiled. "I was wondering who had such twisted tastes, using my photo to find a 'substitute.'"

"So it was Director Feng."

Feng Wanting: "..."

Wei Ziyun panicked. He reached out, grabbed the manager by the back of the neck, and lowered his voice. "Fuck! I told you to find a substitute. How did you bring the actual guy here?!"

"The actual g-guy?!" Understanding dawned on the manager. "No wonder he looked so alike! Isn't the real thing even better?"

Wei Ziyun angrily smacked the back of his head, then turned and hurried toward Pei Yang with an apologetic smile. "You... you're Pei... Pei Yang, right?"

He laughed awkwardly. "I-I arranged all of this on my own. It has nothing to do with Wanting. Absolutely nothing. Don't get the wrong idea."

Frantic, Wei Ziyun made faces at Feng Wanting, signaling for him to say something.

But Feng Wanting lowered his eyes, ignoring Wei Ziyun's signals. He leisurely swirled the glass in his hand, the ice clinking with the movement. His long fingertips traced circles around its rim. His face remained expressionless, his mouth closed, as though he had no intention of explaining anything.

Pei Yang's fingers curled unconsciously. His back was ramrod straight, like a string stretched to its limit that still refused to snap. The corner of his mouth twitched, as though he wanted to force a smile, but all he managed was a faint curve.

"Since I'm here, I can't spoil the evening for you two young masters." Pei Yang took a few steps forward and picked up an opened bottle of liquor from the low coffee table. Kneeling on one knee, he turned an exquisite glass upright from where it sat upside down on the table and poured.

Seeing things take a bad turn, Wei Ziyun warned him, "...Th-that liquor is very strong."

Pei Yang ignored him. He filled the glass to the brim and raised it toward Feng Wanting with both hands. "A toast to Director Feng."

Wei Ziyun reached out to stop him, but Pei Yang was too fast. The moment the words left his mouth, he began pouring the liquor down his throat. The faintly bitter drink was hard to swallow, but he frowned and forced it down, mouthful after mouthful.

Something flickered in Feng Wanting's eyes.

Pei Yang drank too quickly. Liquor ran from the corners of his mouth, down into his collar, soaking his clothes.

After draining the glass, Pei Yang staggered to his feet. Wei Ziyun wanted to steady him, but a glance at Feng Wanting's dark expression made him withdraw his hand.

Pei Yang carelessly wiped his mouth with his sleeve. His gaze was full of mockery as he said, "Enjoy yourselves, young masters."

He slowly stepped forward on his long legs, turned, and left.