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Chapter 3
Fifteen minutes.
Zhong Qi gave a slight nod as she watched Horne Hui brace himself against the pillar and inch closer. She felt him gradually press in, slowly opening her entrance, filling her completely.
The moment she was fully enveloped by that firm intrusion, a faint shiver ran up Horne Hui’s spine. He clenched his jaw, forcing down the urge to thrust harder, and instead looked at Zhong Qi’s expression.
Zhong Qi’s eyes were half-lidded. Desire had already tinted the corners of her gaze a soft red. Her lips parted slightly as she spoke in a lazy murmur.
“I remember your name… Horne Hui?”
He slowly pulled back a little, then pressed forward again, unhurried and deliberate. “Yes.”
Zhong Qi said nothing more. She closed her eyes completely, her full chest rising and falling gently—an unspoken signal that she was comfortable, even pleased.
But that slow, measured pace was torture for Horne Hui.
Water-like sounds of friction filled the space between them. The air thickened with the scent of arousal. Without realizing it, he began to move a little faster. His grip on her calf tightened, making the undergarment looped there sway slightly.
His breathing turned rough.
And in a moment of lost control, what had been lingering just outside finally pressed fully in.
Zhong Qi had known from the beginning—Horne Hui was large, slightly more than any man she had been with before. She had been satisfied with his strength and rhythm, but in her brief lapse of attention, he had gone deeper than intended.
A sudden, sharp sensation made her body tighten instinctively. A soft sound slipped from her lips.
“…Mm.”
The sudden pressure sent a jolt through Horne Hui’s body. His mind went blank for an instant—like static exploding behind his eyes. A surge ran up his spine, and his body trembled violently as he lost control.
Zhong Qi blinked, a faint trace of surprise in her eyes.
So did Horne Hui.
But Zhong Qi’s expression quickly returned to calm. She only lifted her heel and lightly tapped his shoulder.
That small gesture snapped him back to awareness.
He looked down at their joined bodies.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Zhong Qi adjusted her dress, unhurried, as if nothing had happened. “Pick any room you like in this house. It’s getting late. Go rest.”
Horne Hui nodded stiffly, almost mechanically. He picked up his clothes and headed upstairs.
Before going up, he turned back once.
Zhong Qi was already seated on the sofa, opening her laptop, completely absorbed in her work.
Back in his room, Horne Hui checked his phone, then ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
Fifteen minutes.
She definitely hadn’t been satisfied.
And worse—he could sense it. Zhong Qi didn’t seem particularly interested in sex. With her wealth and condition, she could have any man she wanted. So why would she keep someone like him?
He paced the room uneasily.
Then, faint sounds reached him from outside.
He hesitated, walked to the window, and looked down.
Zhong Qi’s car was leaving the courtyard.
She had gone to the club.
At the entrance, Yu Qiuyang stood waiting. The moment she stepped out, he approached her.
“Chairman. The people from Aodan refused.”
Zhong Qi removed her leather gloves and casually tossed them to him. She smiled lightly, unconcerned.
“Jiang Yucheng is a hard bone. Not easy to chew.”
Aodan was the venture capital empire Jiang Yucheng had built over two decades—one of the most influential firms in Asia. In everything he did, he won. Never lost. A near-miracle in itself.
And coincidentally, Zhong Qi was also a miracle of the Zhong family.
She had long wanted to meet another “miracle” like herself. Hearing that Jiang Yucheng had recently arrived in the capital, she had extended an invitation—but he had declined politely, without committing.
She didn’t care. She hadn’t invited him to make friends.
Inside the private room, several people were already present—men and women who worked closely with her. They all stood when she entered.
“Relax,” Zhong Qi said with a smile as she removed her coat. “Sit down.”
Someone poured her a drink, but she gently pushed the glass away.
“My stomach’s not feeling great. You all drink.”
The man quickly apologized and drank three glasses in succession as penance, visibly embarrassed.
Through an ornate carved screen, Zhong Qi noticed another table glancing their way. She hadn’t paid much attention at first—but the man seated at the head of that table had an unusually heavy presence.
Calm. Controlled. Naturally dominant.
A presence that made everything around him feel subdued.
She had met many such figures in the capital—but not him.
Zhong Qi gave a small gesture. Yu Qiuyang leaned in.
“Find out who they are,” she said quietly.
He left without a sound.
Soon after, she received an email. She glanced at it, then tapped her screen lightly.
At the same moment, the man at the other table stood up.
Zhong Qi also rose. “I’m going to the restroom.”
She followed behind him into the corridor.
Thinking briefly, she took out her phone—not to call, but speaking softly as if to herself.
“Go ahead. Continue.”
“They can’t see it, doesn’t mean I can’t. AI will inevitably become mainstream. I’m doing this no matter what.”
As she spoke, her gaze remained fixed on the man ahead.
She noticed it instantly.
His steady steps paused—just slightly—right as she finished the last sentence.
The pause shortened the distance between them.
Zhong Qi acted as if she hadn’t noticed and continued forward, passing him naturally.
“Tell them this: electricity, steam power, the internet—every major technological shift has reshaped the global economy. If we don’t act now and wait until it becomes widespread, we’ll lose the advantage…”
As they brushed past each other, she felt the man tilt his head slightly.
His deep gaze swept over her—quiet, restrained, and unreadable.
