Chapter 3 - Parallel Lines

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

And, as I said before, if you wish to read ahead, you can head over to my Patreon to get early access to all the translated chapters.

The scene on the bed continued unabated. With every thrust of the man's hips, the soft, tearful moans of his partner echoed in the room, sweetly heartbreaking. The butler, calm as ever, had already departed.

 

Feeling slightly out of place, Shuai Zhaomin reflected on his impulsive tea choice. Dong Ding Oolong tea? Where in America can they even find decent Chinese tea? Most of it tastes like bitter swill.

 

"Ah… M-Master… Master…" The trembling cries could only be described as utterly entrancing, their intensity enough to erode one's composure. The man let out a low chuckle, his sculpted waist moving with precision. Each muscle in his upper body flexed under the glow of the setting sun, sweat tracing the elegant contours of his physique in dazzling rivulets.

 

Although Shuai Zhaoming had no particular interest in observing such an intimate tableau, leaving at this juncture would undoubtedly be perceived as a slight. It would only make his job more challenging. Sighing inwardly, he scratched his cheek, adjusted his glasses—still perfectly in place—and took a seat in the armchair near the window, choosing a vantage point that provided a side view of the bed.

 

It wasn't exactly a choice. The sprawling, high-ceilinged room was dominated by the enormous bed, which occupied nearly a third of the space. Aside from a few decorative furnishings, the armchair was the only place that could reasonably serve as a seat for guests.

 

Even from the side, Shuai Zhaoming couldn't clearly discern whether the figure beneath the man was male or female. Golden locks shimmered against the ivory bedding, and slender limbs trembled and twisted, clinging to the man's powerful frame in a contrast that exuded raw sensuality.

 

Suppressing a yawn, Shuai Zhaoming removed his glasses and closed his eyes for a brief rest.

 

After all, he'd been up since early morning, his workload taxing more on his mind than his body. Maybe he really should've smashed that monitor over his boss's head...

 

"Mr. Shuai, here is your tea and refreshments."

 

The butler's voice, formal yet detached, interrupted his thoughts. Shuai Zhaoming opened his eyes slowly, meeting the butler's stern gaze.

 

"Thank you very much." He looked down to find a small table to his left, neatly set with a celadon teacup and a matching plate. The refreshments were Japanese-style sweets with delicately layered hues of pink and white, their translucent appearance exuding a subtle elegance.

 

Had he dozed off, or was the butler truly so efficient that he'd arranged everything without making a sound?

 

As Shuai Zhaoming inspected the sweets, the butler quietly stepped away, retrieving a towel from a cabinet on the other side of the room. He stood at the foot of the bed, seemingly waiting for something.

 

Of course, whatever he was waiting for wasn't Shuai Zhaoming's concern. Hesitating briefly, he lifted the celadon cup. A faint but refined aroma wafted up, signaling quality tea.

 

Damn it, how much longer was this going to take?

 

"Ah! Ah! No, no, stop! I… I can't… I'll break…! M-Master… Master, please—have mercy!" The legs wrapped around the man's waist tightened suddenly. The broken, desperate cries made it impossible for Shuai Zhaoming to ignore the scene any longer.

 

The man's movements didn't falter; if anything, they grew deeper, heavier. The person beneath him was sobbing so hard it seemed they might run out of breath.

 

At this point, should Shuai Zhaoming marvel at the man's stamina or pity the exhausted figure beneath him?

 

Leisurely, he took a bite of the refreshment. The syrupy sweetness balanced perfectly against the slight bitterness of the tea—perhaps he should ask the butler where the snacks were sourced. He could recreate this pairing himself sometime.

 

The cries eventually softened to faint whimpers, akin to the sound of a small, defeated animal. If the man didn't stop soon, the person beneath him might actually pass out.

 

The once-tense limbs, which had clung to the man desperately, now hung limp. At moments like these, could one call this paradise—or purgatory? Shuai Zhaoming felt genuine sympathy for the one being so thoroughly dominated.

 

Finally, just as he finished his tea and snacks, Shuai Zhaoming was on the verge of nodding off when the man let out a deep groan, his waist snapping forward one last time before coming to a halt. His perfectly sculpted muscles quivered slightly.

 

Every man knew what had just transpired. Shuai Zhaoming exhaled a small sigh of relief, glancing at his watch—forty minutes had passed. Damn it, only ten minutes left.

 

The man didn't linger long in the afterglow. Rising swiftly from the bed, he turned his crimson-brown eyes, glinting with a wicked smile, toward Shuai Zhaoming, who returned the gaze with a composed look behind his glasses.

 

"Attorney Shuai*?" The man stepped closer, ignoring the butler entirely. His physique was flawless, every movement accentuating his strength. Between his powerful legs, his member—still glistening and imposing—swung slightly with each step.

 

[T/N: At this point, I should disclose that Zhaoming's surname "Shuai" can also mean "handsome". I always feel the gong is playing on the double meaning, calling him "handsome lawyer".]

 

Trimmed, huh... That was Shuai Zhaoming's first, involuntary thought.

 

Of course, this wasn't the time to dwell on his trimming habits. But faced with a figure so chiseled it rivaled a statue, it was difficult not to notice the more prominent parts.

 

"Yes, Mr. Brelini. I apologize for interrupting your… activities," Shuai Zhaoming said, keeping his tone neutral. Not that it changed the fact that his meeting time had been whittled down to ten minutes—damn it!

 

"Please, have a seat. No need to stand on ceremony." The man gestured to the spot where Shuai Zhaoming had been sitting moments ago, then motioned to the butler. "Gregory, I'll need a chair."

 

"Certainly." The butler placed the towel back in the cabinet and promptly exited the room.

 

Wait, seriously? Shouldn't he have handed over the towel to cover up this... reptilian display before fetching a chair? Tsk.

 

"My apologies, but if you don't mind, Mr. Brelini, I'd prefer we proceed swiftly. That leaves..." Shuai Zhaomin glanced at his watch, inwardly cursing. "Eight minutes and thirty seconds."

 

Fuck! What the hell can you accomplish in eight and a half minutes?!

 

"Haha! Hello, hello. So, tell me, was it during a moment of carelessness that you accidentally pulled the trigger?"

"Oh! It was like this... Bang! The bullet just fired!"

"Ah, what a shame!"

And... Time's up!

 

Damn it again! And there went another thirty seconds, wasted on his inner monologue.

 

"My sincerest apologies. I thought the guards would allow you more time." The butler reappeared, deftly bringing in a chair identical to Shuai Zhaomin's. His apology, however, was ambiguous, directed at neither of them in particular.

 

"Master, shall I prepare a new access card for Mr. Shuai?" The butler's tone was measured, devoid of warmth, prompting Shuai Zhaomin to respond with a polite smile.

 

"Perhaps Mr. Shuai has other appointments to attend to. We wouldn't want to seem inhospitable," the naked man interjected nonchalantly, sitting down with all the composure of someone in full attire. Every inch of his sculpted body seemed calculated for display, and his unrestrained posture made certain nothing was left to the imagination.

 

Fuck! It's you who decides anyway! Shuai Zhaomin's fingers twitched, betraying the surge of irritation within. Professionalism demanded restraint, but his patience was wearing thin.

 

He should have hurled the porcelain teacup at this shameless exhibitionist's head! Could he at least cross his legs? No matter how meticulously groomed the area might be, this was far from an acceptable way to greet a guest.

 

Anger surged belatedly, spurred by another glance at his watch. Five minutes remained, and not a single productive word had been exchanged. Worse still, the client seemed intent on dismissing him entirely.

 

"Mr. Brelini, let me remind you—our first court hearing is in two weeks. It's critical we reach a consensus before then." He needed more than just a surface-level understanding of his client; winning the case required both parties to exploit every possible loophole.

 

With a low chuckle, the man spread his hands, his trimmed beard accentuating the curve of his lips as they twisted into a mocking grin. "As you can see, I'm this kind of man."

 

The sharp snap of an imaginary string echoed in Shuai Zhaomin's mind.

 

"Mr. Brelini, I'm sorry. I can't take your case." His voice was calm, but inside, he was seething. Forty minutes of watching a damn stallion perform, and not even the courtesy of cleaning up afterward? What a joke!

 

Despite three remaining minutes, Shuai Zhaomin stood abruptly, determined to leave. His next step? Resigning and returning to Taiwan to start his own practice—and maybe look after his younger sister while he was at it.

 

"Is this what they call running away with your tail between your legs*?"

 

[T/N: "落荒而逃" (luò huāng ér táo) is a chinese idiom, implying that Shuai is abandoning the situation hastily and cowardly.]

 

"Running away...?" The man's Chinese was fluent but improperly nuanced. How could this be him running away?

 

"Let's call it refusing to bend for a mere pittance*." Shuai Zhaomin retorted smoothly in Mandarin.

 

[T/N: "不為五斗米折腰" (bù wéi wǔ dǒu mǐ zhé yāo), which literally translates to "not bending one's back for five bushels of rice." This idiom symbolizes holding onto one's principles and refusing to compromise dignity for material gain or trivial benefits.]

 

Rising from his chair, he fought to maintain his composure. "I'm sorry. Perhaps Adams would be better suited to represent you. At least you seem willing to speak with him."

 

"Attorney Shuai, do you even have any deep understanding of the Brelini family—or me, personally?" The man stood as well, the movement causing the muscles in his body to ripple with a sculptural elegance that even Shuai Zhaomin couldn't deny—though he really wished he could.

 

Did spotting that trimmed area count as a deep understanding? Shit, stop thinking about trivial things!

 

"I admit my research was lacking. It seems I'm not the right person for this case, Mr. Brelini. I suggest you seek someone more qualified." Shuai Zhaomin's ever-polished professional smile was on the verge of collapse. The stark contrast between the man's file and his reality had rarely been so egregious.

 

"Whatever you say must be followed through to the end." Since his earlier jab about him running away, the man had spoken exclusively in Mandarin, his low, slightly raspy voice weaving an oddly poetic cadence.

 

No matter how melodic it sounded, it didn't mask the ridiculing tone of his words. "Followed through to the end? Mr. Brelini, this concerns your future and reputation. Perhaps being too rigid isn't in your best interest."

 

"Attorney Shuai, tomorrow at 3 PM. I'll see you then." The man extended his hand, forcing Shuai Zhaomin to oblige with a brief, reluctant shake.

 

Tomorrow at three? You'll be waiting until judgment day!

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