I'll give you a chance.

After getting rid of that scumbag Ryan, Jonathan received a call from Wu Fangsi.

"Hey Janus, did you receive the clothes? This is my first time wearing the WANTON WU menswear line, so please show it off to me!"

"I've already put it on. There's a performance tonight. Is Designer Wu satisfied?"

“That’s so kind of you! I also included a lookbook with the package. I took the liberty of picking out what I thought would suit you. Take a look through the lookbook and let me know if you like anything else. I’ll have my assistant send it to you.”

“Those are already pretty cool,” Jonathan said, leaning on his phone and casually picking up a booklet from the low table on the sofa. He flipped through it, his fingertips tracing the faces of the young men in the photos. “Who’s this model? A new face, a newcomer from China?”

"A model? Oh, actually he's an actor, a very unique 17-year-old. He should be in Manel now, supposedly participating in some music competition. You might even run into him."

Jonathan flipped through a few more pages, then asked thoughtfully, "The actor, is he 17?"

"Your tastes have changed? Didn't you always like older men?... You're here? Go wait for me in bed." Wu Fangsi seemed to have a guest, her tone shifting from friendly warmth to a teasing command, but she wasn't in a hurry to hang up, continuing, "But this little one also has a proportionally enlarged older brother, do you want me...?"

The phone crackled with the sound of electricity mixed with the rustling of fabric. Jonathan didn't quite catch the second half of the sentence, then heard a crisp "snap." Jonathan held the receiver away from his earpiece, raised an eyebrow, and said knowingly, "I'm going on stage now. Enjoy."

Jonathan hung up the phone, got up and tossed the booklet onto the sofa, chuckling to himself, "I guess I only dream about it because it looks a bit like it."

-

Jiang Songhe left the "scene of their tryst" without changing his expression and went straight downstairs.

On the first floor, near the door, stood a row of ashtrays. Jiang Songhe dodged left and right as he walked against the flow to get there, took out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket, and watched as the red glow of the cigarette slowly approached the cigarette butt. His stagnant thoughts began to clamor.

Is the one below a man?

What kind of look was that kid giving me?

Those that dye their fur white are sure to produce nothing of value.

If you recruit Ni Haolang again, he'll be a dog.

I really shouldn't have brought Song Yun to Maner.

It should still be possible to withdraw Song Yun from the competition now.

...

Bang!

With a loud bang, pink smoke instantly bloomed in the sky above the dance floor.

The central stage was shrouded in smoke, forming a giant screen of turbulent undercurrents under the beams of light. Backlit hand shadows and screams stirred up the audience as they tried to catch the flying gold paper, creating a scene reminiscent of Resident Evil.

"Janus! Janus!! Janus!!! Ahhh——"

A sleek silhouette pierced through the ethereal mist and arrived at the edge of the stage. The silver-haired singer knelt on one knee, casually warming up the crowd with a microphone in hand, his words brimming with untamed spirit: "Hot night huh? Thanks for waiting…It's time for the best part, you ready?"

"Yes Janus yes!!!! (Yes Janus! Ready!!!!)"

Jonathan clicked his tongue and wagged his index finger, raising his voice: "I can't hear you! Try again, please? Now, tell me...you guys want to play?!"

The microphone was extended towards the audience.

“Yeah—(thinking—)”

"Wanna play?"

“Yeah———— (I want to————)”

Jonathan chuckled with satisfaction and praised her, "Good job." He then snapped his fingers toward the side of the stage, and someone immediately handed him a bottle of whiskey. He also gave a look toward the control room upstairs, and a spotlight immediately shone on the dance floor.

-

The phone kept vibrating in his pocket. Jiang Songhe snapped out of his daze, frowned, and took out his phone. The screen displayed "Producer Xu Yunhe".

Jiang Songhe answered the phone. The nightclub was too noisy, and Xu's voice was drowned out by the noise, but it was clear that he was in a hurry: "President Jiang... something happened... Yan Ge... the lead actress... paparazzi... riot..."

"What did you say?" Jiang Songhe stubbed out his cigarette for what seemed like the umpteenth time, instinctively pressing his ear down as he asked loudly.

"I want that one, yeah, show me his face."

The blinding white light struck Jiang Songhe's face without warning. Jiang Songhe squinted reflexively, and after adjusting for a moment, he shot a fierce look at the center stage.

He's everywhere; he's bad luck.

"It really is you. Are you that infatuated with me?" Jonathan rested the microphone on his lap, tilted his head, and asked, "Well, I'll give you a chance then—"

The two looked at each other from afar, and the crowd in the dance floor gradually fell silent because they couldn't understand the porcelain script.

"Come here." Jonah beckoned to Jiang Songhe with an air of certainty.

The crowd understood the gesture and followed Jonathan's gaze to look at Jiang Songhe. After seeing him clearly, they continued to scream and spontaneously made way for him.

Jiang Songhe brushed his tongue against his back teeth, gave a speechless chuckle, and ignored the attention on his face as he said into his phone, "I'll talk to you later, bye."

Then, breaking free of the aura, he left Diamond Ash without looking back.

This ungrateful act caused a commotion in the crowd, at which point a pair of jubilant hands appeared at the lower edge of the spotlight.

The spotlight shifted, and a boy covered in mermaid-like sequins excitedly volunteered: "I'm also from China! Pick me, Janus!!"

Jonathan suppressed his surprise, quickly curving his charming eyes again, and said nonchalantly, "Why not?"

The boy squeezed through the gaps in the crowd to the edge of the stage. Jonathan thoughtfully tidied up a tuft of messy hair on his head. The boy stared at him, his face turning red.

Jonathan's lowered gaze swept across the boy's face, then moved down to catch the mole beneath his deep V-neck.

The boy was grabbed by the wrist by Jonathan and spun around half a circle, then wrapped up in a soft embrace, knees and backs touching, facing the audience.

The audience erupted in cheers.

Jonathan lifted the boy's chin, and the boy instinctively looked up and opened his mouth.

"Don't choke, guest artist."

The amber-colored liquor flowed into the boy's pried-open mouth, then meandered down the corner of his mouth and into his collar, his small Adam's apple bobbing.

Jonathan looked down at the frowning, swallowing face, his narrow eyes gleaming strangely beneath his thick eyelashes, his middle finger lightly brushing across the mole on the boy's chest, which was damp with wine.

"Cute."

Before the boy could even grasp that ethereal, alluring whisper, it was swept away. Jonathan gripped the microphone again and retreated to the center of the stage, his long, slender figure resembling a silver snake. He adjusted his in-ear monitor, then raised his hand to count down—

"Three! Two! One! Merry Christmas!"

The familiar prelude then began, and cheers rose in waves on the dance floor.

"You think you can possess me, but now you're in my trap. I should taste your skin, I should leech your soul..."

A siren-like, seductive voice wafted through the microphone, clinging to a romantic and tender melody that bewitched the entire audience.

-

After thanking the foreign teacher on the online course page, Jiang Songyun glanced at the time and closed his laptop.

"It's past two o'clock and he's still not back?" Jiang Songyun got up from the coffee table in the hotel room, wanting to go next door to check, but after a few steps he stopped, turned around and went into the bedroom. "What else can he do when he goes out with Lang Ge besides eating, drinking and having fun? I don't care if he comes back or not."

He knew that Jiang Songhe would definitely come to his room to let him know when she returned to the hotel, and since no one knocked on the door, she must not have come back yet.

Jiang Songyun kicked the open suitcase to the ground and muttered irritably, "He's out there indulging in debauchery, and I'm here to be his obedient cash cow. Isn't that always been the case?"

The suitcase was neatly packed like Tetris blocks, a style of his obsessive-compulsive control freak older brother. The more he looked at it, the angrier he became, so he messed up the contents and threw them all onto the bed.

His brother is also a germaphobe; if he came back and saw this scene, he would definitely go crazy on the spot.

Jiang Songyun lay back on the messy bed with a secret sense of satisfaction, when suddenly something poked him from under him. He pulled it out and looked at it; it was a small medicine box.

“He won’t listen to me.” Jiang Songyun sat up again and opened the medicine box. “I know I lied to him about the asthma last time, why did you still bring me this…”

Jiang Songyun paused as he rummaged through the boxes of inhalers. He found a velvet pouch underneath, and below that was a photo of him and Jiang Songhe.

As a teenager, Jiang Songhe was bent very low, holding the hand of the toddler Jiang Songyun with a tense expression. Jiang Songyun has taken too many stills and posters, and he has no recollection of this photo at all.

Jiang Songyun took out the longevity lock from his purse, a lock that was no longer suitable for him to wear when going out. His eyes welled up with tears, but not because he was moved.

"'Chang'an Wu' (meaning 'long life of happiness and carefree living')? How ironic. If it weren't for you, would I have been born without parents?"