After ninety-nine online romances, I finally met my ex in person when school started.

It was a deep kiss filled with both absolute comfort and possessiveness. The only sounds in the office were their rapid, intertwined breathing and the soft rustling of their clothes against each other.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the blinds, casting dappled shadows on the two people embracing.

Gu Qinghan was captivated by the domineering yet reassuring kiss, her hands unconsciously gripping Zhu Xunchuan's white shirt collar tightly.

After a long while, the two slowly separated.

Gu Qinghan's cheeks were burning hot, so red they looked like they were about to bleed. She was panting, her chest heaving violently.

She climbed off Zhu Xun Chuan's lap and straightened the slightly rolled-up hem of her black skirt. She turned away, not daring to look Zhu Xun Chuan in the eye.

She reached out her hands and gently straightened Zhu Xun Chuan's collar, which she had just messed up, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles on his shirt.

She looked like a virtuous and gentle little woman, with not a trace of the dean of students' authority.

"There will be a lot of trouble dealing with the Zhao family's affairs later," Gu Qinghan said softly while straightening his collar. "Xia Wanying has been overseeing the deal at the company these past two days, trying to take over the Zhao family's southern market. Jiang Yao is at home sharpening her old knife every day. When you get back, make sure to reassure them."

She was reminding him that there were two powder kegs in the large apartment that could explode at any moment.

"Are you jealous?" Zhu Xun Chuan casually pinched her cheek.

"No." Gu Qinghan turned her head away, stubbornly denying it, then picked up her gold-rimmed glasses from the table and put them on again. "There's a department meeting this afternoon. Since you've checked off leave, go to class. Don't wander around campus."

With her glasses on, she once again donned that aloof and restrained counselor's coat.

Zhu Xun Chuan smiled at her starkly different demeanor. He didn't push his luck. This knowing when to advance and when to retreat, this sense of proportion, was the highest level of maintaining a relationship.

"Yes, Teacher Gu." Zhu Xun Chuan stood up.

He walked to the door, turned the lock, opened the door, and walked out of the office.

Walking into the corridor of the administration building, Zhu Xunchuan went down the stairs.

As soon as I stepped out of the glass doors of the administration building, my encrypted phone in my pocket started vibrating violently.

Zhu Xunchuan took out his phone. An unread voice message appeared on the screen; the sender was Jiang Yao.

He opened the voice recorder and put it to his ear.

"Brother, I heard from the guys down there that you went back to Peking University to submit your leave request?"

Jiang Yao's voice was filled with an intense, almost palpable, jealousy, and there was even the sound of a dagger tapping on the table in the background.

"Were you going to submit a sick leave slip, or did that icy vixen hold you up? I was waiting for you in the penthouse in the China World Trade Center. Less than half an hour later, I smashed the window!"

Zhu Xunchuan turned off the screen.

The autumn wind blew by, swirling up a few yellow leaves.

He put his phone back in his pocket and shook his head helplessly.

Top floor penthouse in the core area of ​​Guomao.

The fingerprint lock made a crisp "click" sound.

Zhu Xunchuan pushed open the door and entered. The motion-sensor floor light in the entryway turned on, dispelling the chill of the late autumn evening.

Shen Tianxi and Meng Wanqing were still catching up on sleep in the guest room. Their intelligence work had been incredibly demanding these past few days, taking a toll on their energy. But at this moment, the large, open-plan living room was anything but peaceful.

The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder. Not the smoke of actual gunfire, but the extreme exclusivity created by mixing two top-tier perfumes.

Zhu Xun Chuan changed into slippers and looked up.

In the cool gray-toned decor of the large apartment, two women sat on a six-meter-long Italian minimalist leather sofa.

On the left, Xia Wanying.

The richest woman in North China is holding a bone china coffee cup in her hand and has the latest iPad Pro on her lap.

The screen flashed financial statements showing how Dinghe Group had taken over the Zhao family's southern market. She wasn't wearing her usual imposing jewelry; her hair was casually pinned up with a hairpin, with a few stray strands falling beside her fair neck.

On the right, Jiang Yao.

The heiress of the Northern underworld wasn't sitting cross-legged; instead, she sat there with an air of authority. She held her ever-present butterfly knife in her hand, the metal blade flashing between her slender fingers, while a velvet cloth for wiping her hands was casually tossed onto the coffee table.

These two have completely opposite auras. One is a domineering CEO who kills with capital, and the other is a rebellious girl who draws blood with a knife.

But at this moment, they surprisingly reached a bizarre consensus.

Neither of them was wearing their own clothes.

Xia Wanying took off her priceless burgundy silk trench coat. Jiang Yao also threw away her wild black leather jacket.

They were all wearing oversized white men's shirts that Zhu Xun Chuan had kept in the dressing room.

Zhu Xun Chuan is 1.88 meters tall with a broad frame. When the shirt was worn by the two women, it created the illusion of them not wearing anything underneath.

Xia Wanying's legs were long and straight, showing the firmness of her long-term Pilates training. She crossed her legs, her toes casually hooking the edge of a red-soled high heel, seemingly about to slip off.

Jiang Yao's legs exude power and wildness. Years of martial arts training have resulted in extremely well-proportioned thigh muscles, without an ounce of excess fat, and a healthy pinkish hue against her fair skin.

Two identical white shirts. Two pairs of legs, vastly different yet equally stunning.

On the surface, tensions are high, but in reality, they are all secretly vying to see who is more at ease in Zhu Xun Chuan's territory.

"Miss Jiang." Xia Wanying's gaze remained fixed on the tablet. Her red lips parted slightly, and her voice carried the languidness of someone in a superior position. "The metallic glint is blinding me. This is the top floor of the China World Trade Center, not your Northern Territory's underground boxing gym. Put away your fighting tricks."

"I'm happy to." Jiang Yao flicked her wrist, the butterfly knife twirling beautifully in mid-air. "What, Mr. Xia spent a billion, and you can't even stand the sight of a blade? If it weren't for my brothers putting up big-character posters, your few low-quality articles and trending topics would have been suppressed by the Zhao family long ago."

"Barbaric." Xia Wanying snorted coldly and took a sip of black coffee.

"Hypocritical." Jiang Yao retorted, slamming the butterfly knife onto the coffee table with a "thud."

Hearing the noise, the two women turned their heads at the same time.

Upon seeing Zhu Xun Chuan standing in the entryway, their expressions instantly changed. The previous confrontation immediately transformed into a struggle for prey.

Jiang Yao was the fastest. She sprang up from the sofa, stepped barefoot onto the carpet, and rushed to Zhu Xun Chuan in a few strides.

She clung to Zhu Xun Chuan's arm without any hesitation, pressing her entire body against him. The wide collar of his white shirt was open, revealing his delicate collarbone.

"Brother, you've been gone for so long just to submit a sick leave slip." Jiang Yao looked up, her eyes blatantly jealous. "I don't care. I've been holding in this rage for days. You're coming with me to the private boxing gym in the underground parking garage to practice combat. I want you to work up a sweat with me!"

Xia Wanying put down her coffee cup and stood up slowly. Unlike Jiang Yao, who barged in headfirst, she walked with a cat-like gait, exuding an undeniable elegance, to the other side of Zhu Xunchuan.

Instead of taking his arm, she reached out and gently smoothed the wrinkles in Zhu Xun Chuan's collar, her fingertips lightly brushing against his Adam's apple.

"Mr. Zhu," Xia Wanying's voice softened, yet carried a forceful demand, "I've already sent people to take full control of the two prime plots of land the Zhao family owns in the southern part of the city. I can't oversee them all by myself, so I need you to accompany me to the site selection now to finalize the framework for the commercial complex for the next quarter."

One demands physical combat, the other demands commercial inspection.

On the left was a hot-tempered, fiercely protective young woman; on the right was a lavish, extravagant female tycoon. Both women looked up, their possessive eyes fixed on Zhu Xun Chuan, awaiting his choice.

If this were an ordinary man, he would probably be weak in the knees and at a loss right now.

But Zhu Xun Chuan only glanced down at the shirts he was wearing that belonged to the two of them.

He didn't offer any empty words of persuasion, nor did he hesitate or waver.

Zhu Xun Chuan raised both hands directly.

With his left index finger and thumb spread apart, he precisely pinched Jiang Yao's slightly chubby cheeks and applied a little force.

He closed his right hand around Xia Wanying's slender waist, the warmth of his hand passing through the thin fabric of her shirt.

"Ugh!" Jiang Yao's lips pouted as her face was pinched, her wildness instantly interrupted.

Xia Wanying felt a burning sensation in her waist, and an irresistible force came through her. She instinctively straightened her back.