“Ah! Mr. Duan…”
“Mr. Duan…”
“It’s been a while, you’re still as charming as ever…”
Almost the moment Duan Xiubo stepped into the venue, the big shots from various industries began to swarm toward him.
In recent years, Duan Xiubo had been taking on fewer and fewer projects in the entertainment industry. After reaching the peak of his career a few years ago, he had begun to show signs of wanting to step back. Luo Ding had once asked him why he didn’t continue climbing higher like he did. Duan Xiubo’s answer was that he wasn’t as passionate about acting as Luo Ding was.
He certainly enjoyed the work, but the truth was, he had initially chosen to enter the entertainment industry simply because it was a shortcut to success. Back then, he was young and didn’t have the resources to pursue other paths. His natural adaptability allowed him to stick with it once he realized how well-suited he was for the job.
Now, Duan Xiubo no longer had to worry about such things. The earnings from his acting and endorsements had been invested into various ventures, yielding significant returns. Even if he were to step away from the spotlight and move behind the scenes, it would be entirely feasible.
Thus, he now had even more reasons for people to curry favor with him.
Luo Ding had initially wanted to go over as well, but after taking just one step, he saw Duan Xiubo being surrounded by a crowd of guests. He chuckled and gave up on the idea of approaching him.
Zhong Jinjiang, now in his seventies and having spent nearly half his life in a wheelchair, was as thin as a stick. His legs, hidden under a thin blanket, looked like two withered branches. But the sharp glint in his eyes ensured that no one in the room dared to underestimate him. Whether it was his “glorious” past of wielding knives in his youth or his later years of dominating the market with the same ferocity, this old man was almost flawless—except for his physical condition. Oh, and perhaps one other thing.
Luo Ding was specially invited out from the inner circle of guests. Zhong Jinjiang held his hand and rambled on, asking about his health, work, and family—typical old man concerns.
Luo Ding smiled and answered gently, his tone not exactly humble but clearly respectful.
Duan Xiubo stood in the inner circle. He had no prior connection with Zhong Jinjiang and had only attended because of the invitation. He was somewhat surprised by how warmly Zhong Jinjiang treated Luo Ding.
A nearby official from the anti-corruption department leaned over and whispered, “Old Mr. Zhong really doesn’t bother hiding his fondness for beauty.” It had always been this way. If a celebrity was good-looking, Zhong Jinjiang would inevitably strike up a conversation. If they weren’t, unless they were a cash cow for his company, he couldn’t be bothered. Now, even in his old age and unable to do much, he still loved to admire beauty, regardless of gender or age.
Duan Xiubo’s expression darkened slightly. Seeing Luo Ding completely oblivious and just humoring the old man, he couldn’t help but feel irritated. As they walked, he heard Zhong Jinjiang ask, “How old are you now?”
“Mr. Zhong, I’m thirty.”
“Call me Uncle Zhong, why so formal?” Zhong Jinjiang looked at Luo Ding with admiration and blurted out, “Thirty is the age to establish oneself. Why aren’t you married yet?”
Luo Ding couldn’t help but glance back at Duan Xiubo with a smile before turning to answer, “I’m not planning to settle down so soon.”
Zhong Jinjiang clicked his tongue, clearly disapproving. “How is that soon? You’re not young anymore. It’s time to start a family! My granddaughter is twenty-seven, beautiful, a Harvard graduate, and a huge fan of your movies and music. I think you two would be a perfect match!”
This wasn’t the first time Luo Ding had encountered such matchmaking attempts, so he knew exactly how to handle it. He smiled and patted Zhong Jinjiang’s shoulder, then moved behind the wheelchair instead of walking beside him.
When he turned around, he met Duan Xiubo’s amused gaze. Luo Ding knew the man was jealous again.
The birthday banquet followed the usual routine. After the birthday boy’s speech, the meal began. Since the birthday boy was from the entertainment industry, there were also performances by famous singers.
The room was filled with the clinking of glasses and the murmur of people urging each other to drink. Luo Ding didn’t drink, but he couldn’t resist the pressure, so he excused himself to go to the restroom.
After making a few work-related calls in the restroom, Luo Ding sighed and sat on the sink, examining the corners of his eyes in the mirror.
When Zhong Jinjiang had brought it up, he realized he was already thirty.
Although, by modern standards, thirty was still considered the prime of a man’s life, Luo Ding knew all too well that he was inching closer to old age.
He didn’t have any regrets, though. There probably wasn’t another person in the world who had been given the chance to relive their youth like he had. Getting to experience his twenties again meant that everything after thirty was a bonus. If he weren’t satisfied with that, he’d be struck by lightning.
Lost in thought, he suddenly noticed the door opening. Before he could jump off the sink, Duan Xiubo walked in.
Duan Xiubo closed the restroom door behind him.
Luo Ding’s tense muscles immediately relaxed. He leaned against the mirror and tilted his head, smiling at Duan Xiubo. “How long has it been since we last saw each other, and you’re already jealous?”
The smile on Duan Xiubo’s face had long since disappeared, replaced by a look of grievance. He walked over to Luo Ding, towering over him.
The short-haired man’s features were sharp, his gaze resolute, but at times like this, Luo Ding always felt the urge to ruffle his hair.
And he did just that, reaching up to pat Duan Xiubo’s head. Duan Xiubo lowered his head to make it easier, but when the patting didn’t seem enough, he simply lifted Luo Ding off the sink and locked him in a tight embrace.
Luo Ding hugged him back, still a head shorter. The faint scent of men’s cologne lingered in Duan Xiubo’s neck—he had always been fond of such fashionable, luxurious things.
Fingers rubbing the short hair at the nape of Duan Xiubo’s neck, Luo Ding asked softly, “Still upset?”
“Zhong Jinjiang’s granddaughter has a horse face and narrow eyes. I’ve seen her once.”
Luo Ding burst out laughing. “Where’s your gentlemanly demeanor?”
Duan Xiubo let go of him and looked straight into Luo Ding’s eyes. “Let’s get married.”
“Huh?” Luo Ding didn’t follow his train of thought.
Duan Xiubo immediately got angry. “Did you forget?!”
“…” Luo Ding blinked, watching as Duan Xiubo’s slight annoyance turned into a furious dinosaur. Before he could voice his confusion, the furious dinosaur opened its mouth and pressed down on his.
Their lips and tongues instantly intertwined. Luo Ding tilted his head back slightly, the familiar scent filling his nostrils and making him unable to resist. The older Duan Xiubo got, the more childlike his temper became. Luo Ding was used to indulging him. Besides, Duan Xiubo knew his limits. No matter how angry he got, he would never do anything truly excessive.
Duan Xiubo wrapped his arms around Luo Ding’s waist, unsatisfied, then moved up to grip his shoulders. Still not enough.
He simply lifted Luo Ding and placed him back on the sink, then leaned down to kiss him thoroughly.
Luo Ding’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt his tie being loosened and the top buttons of his shirt undone. Duan Xiubo’s short, coarse hair brushed against his cheek, and gentle sucks trailed down his neck.
“Don’t leave marks… ah!” Luo Ding frowned and grabbed Duan Xiubo’s head, but the man had already moved down to his chest and started biting him.
Luo Ding’s eyes glazed over, his legs trembling involuntarily. Glancing at the mirror, he reached out to pull Duan Xiubo’s ear. “Hey…”
Knowing that Luo Ding would get angry if he continued, Duan Xiubo reluctantly let go, using his fingers to play with the small thing that was swollen from his gnawing.
He fiddled with it left and right, pressed it down and rubbed it, then reluctantly lowered his head and took a few more bites.
Only then did he say unhappily, “You promised me something, but you don’t even remember. Did you forget what you said? You said that if we were still together when you turned thirty, we’d go get married.”
“…” Luo Ding was unsure. “I said that?”
Duan Xiubo paused, straightened up, and stared into Luo Ding’s eyes for a few seconds before turning to leave.
His hand on the doorknob, he turned back, buttoned up Luo Ding’s shirt, and retied his tie, smoothing out the wrinkles on his jacket. Then, as if adding an afterthought, he let out a cold snort and walked out the door.
Luo Ding was stunned for a moment, feeling that the snort meant, “I’m not playing with you anymore.”
Duan Xiubo was really angry.
He quickly jumped off the sink and chased after him. Duan Xiubo wasn’t at the door, so he grabbed a passing waiter. “Excuse me, did you see Mr. Duan Xiubo leave this way?”
The waiter looked up, startled by Luo Ding’s face, and blushed, taking a step back as he stammered, “N-no…”
“Thank you.” Luo Ding sighed, fished out some bills from his pocket, and placed them on the tray before continuing his search.
The waiter stood frozen for a while, only snapping out of it when someone called for him. He stared at the money on the tray, then couldn’t help but look back at Luo Ding’s retreating figure.
The image of Luo Ding from earlier flashed in his mind—his fair skin tinged with pink, his eyes slightly red as if he had just been kissed, his lips glistening with moisture. The way his mouth moved as he spoke somehow reminded the waiter of the phrase “a feast for the eyes.”
Luo Ding tried to remain calm as he searched the venue. When he reached the edge of the room and still hadn’t found Duan Xiubo, he began to worry.
Now he remembered—that promise did exist, though he couldn’t recall exactly when he had made it. Was it one morning or evening? Regardless, he had agreed, and forgetting about it was his fault.
He tapped the shoulder of a nearby guest, who looked slightly surprised when they saw his face. This had happened several times tonight.
Just as he was about to ask if they had seen Duan Xiubo, a strong hand gripped his arm and pulled him aside.
The guest who had been pulled away kept staring at Luo Ding’s face, their expression turning strange. Seeing Luo Ding being led away, they quickly followed. “Mr. Luo? Are you drunk?”
Luo Ding was startled when someone turned him around and pressed his head against their shoulder.
Duan Xiubo’s voice came from behind, calm and unhurried. “I accidentally made him drink a few too many glasses. This is bad—Mr. Gu is going to scold me.”
The guest stared at Luo Ding’s back for a moment, about to say something, but Duan Xiubo had already waved goodbye and led Luo Ding toward the elevator.
Once inside the elevator, Duan Xiubo let go, his expression gloomy, like a child who had declared victory only to trip and fall flat on his face—utterly humiliated. “Why were you running around like that?!”
Luo Ding was a bit confused. Duan Xiubo’s anger seemed misplaced, so he reached out to pat his arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to forget.”
“Who’s talking about that?!” Duan Xiubo frowned and looked frustrated. After staring at Luo Ding for a while, he suddenly reached out and began vigorously rubbing Luo Ding’s face.
Luo Ding: “…”
Duan Xiubo’s hands were large, almost able to cover Luo Ding’s face without spreading his fingers. His palms had calluses, giving them a rough texture.
Luo Ding was baffled as his face was rubbed. When Duan Xiubo finally let go, Luo Ding noticed that his mood had improved.
Duan Xiubo thought about the anger he had felt when he saw Luo Ding’s eyes glistening as he spoke to others. He realized that storming off in a huff had been idiotic. He was the one who had made Luo Ding look like that, yet others had gotten to enjoy the sight. Earlier, he had been sulking in the shadows by the wall, but the moment Luo Ding appeared in his line of sight, he had been struck dumb. Though Luo Ding’s expression had seemed a bit helpless, there was still a lingering hint of spring in his eyes. When he occasionally glanced around, his gaze was like a hook, reeling people in.
Hadn’t those bastards been practically drooling as they surrounded Luo Ding?
May they all go blind tomorrow.
Exiting the venue, they quickly passed through the main hall. Duan Xiubo didn’t hesitate at the door, pulling Luo Ding into a half-embrace and preventing him from looking up.
Paparazzi were waiting outside, and when the flashes went off, Duan Xiubo didn’t flinch. He simply waved toward the light.
Luo Ding sighed. Perhaps possessiveness was innate. He didn’t find Duan Xiubo’s occasional antics annoying; in fact, he felt a deep sense of indulgence.
Duan Xiubo shoved Luo Ding into the car, then got into the driver’s seat and sat there, staring blankly.
Luo Ding sighed and patted his back. “Don’t be mad.”
Duan Xiubo grabbed his hand. “Will you marry me or not?!”
Luo Ding was silent for a moment, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Are you proposing to me?”
Duan Xiubo puffed out his chest confidently. “Yes.”
No flowers, no diamond ring, not even a cake. The two of them sat facing each other in the cramped car, having just had a spat.
But Duan Xiubo was being stubborn, and when Duan Xiubo was stubborn, Luo Ding was helpless.
Fine, Luo Ding thought. At this age, still chasing romance—his brain must have been slammed in a door.
“Alright, alright,” he waved his hand, unsure of what to feel. Agreeing to the proposal felt like he was coaxing a child. “If you want to get married, we can. I don’t have any openings in my schedule for the next two months. If we need to go abroad to get the certificate, it’ll have to wait until Christmas.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he looked at Duan Xiubo.
Duan Xiubo looked back at him.
After a long while.
Duan Xiubo: “…Oh.”
Author’s Note:
Duan Xiubo: “Which little b*tch was eyeing my Luo Xiaoding? Hand over your eyes!”
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