On the top floor of the building, in a solemn atmosphere-filled office, a single pair of worn sheer stockings suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
They were held by a man, gently drooping in his palm, as his rough fingertips caressed the material slowly, as if he were trying to discern the person who wore them.
He wondered if the shapely calves would stretch the stockings, or if the elastic of the tights would leave some soft flesh pinched at the base of his legs, leaving behind a pitiful and obvious red mark for a while.
The man stroked the stockings as if he were grasping something extremely precious. The sheer stockings created a stark contrast against the expensive-looking watch on his wrist.
It felt a bit strange and somewhat out of place. This was a mature and assertive successful man who was carefully holding a pair of stockings previously worn by an unknown person. If no one was watching, one might think he wished to smell them a bit more.
After staring for a long time, Yan Chuan reluctantly recalled. He indeed had owned such a pair of sheer stockings—a pair he had worn once during a livestream and then removed in front of the audience, after which he had not paid any attention to it.
Then, the top donor in his livestream had requested them under the pretext of “exchange.”
Yan Chuan bit his lip. The top donor in his livestream had sent him some “clothes” and also confessed to him that he had fallen for him at first sight.
Yan Chuan didn’t understand what falling in love at first sight even meant; he only remembered the long speech followed by a declaration of affection.
Right, he had noted the top donor as Qi Yan.
Qi Yan—name associated with a certain group, twenty-eight years old, a man who was fit and healthy.
Given the name of the group and the age, they seemed to match; as for his health… Yan Chuan couldn’t tell, but this man in front of him was much taller. He was not someone as delicate as Yan Chuan, who could even be described as a pitifully thin little streamer.
[It feels like a real jerk.]
[I saw him stuff Yan Bao’s stockings into the pocket of his chest…]
[How despicable! I want my wife’s fragrant stockings too!]
[Wait, isn’t this the guy who said he fell in love at first sight, took his wife’s stockings, and then sent her a lot of lingerie?]
[I want to dive into the script of the escape variety show and be that NPC CEO, secretly making rules for my wife.]
Yan Chuan’s gaze slowly traveled upward, meeting the unfamiliar yet handsome face of the man.
“You…” he spoke uncertainly, his voice a bit small, “are you Qi Yan?”
This man had become the top donor in his livestream, had contacted him privately, and now flat-out asked if he could buy the worn stockings.
Yan Chuan struggled to reconcile how this impressively dressed and respectable man could be the same person as his top donor.
He couldn’t imagine someone like him staring at the screen, listening to him flirt with the audience in a soft voice and casually giving gifts.
And then, meticulously asking the pretty little streamer if he could purchase his worn socks from him. Perhaps at that moment, he had been in an important meeting, expressionless as he replied to the little streamer’s message.
Wasn’t that a bit perverted?
“I am,” the man affirmed confidently.
He seemed oblivious to Yan Chuan’s gaze, calmly folding the sheer stockings and placing them back into the small pocket of his suit jacket.
Only then did Yan Chuan notice that the pocket was slightly bulging; presumably, the other sock was inside.
His earlobes turned slightly red.
How… how could he carry such things on himself?
Yan Chuan’s cheeks felt hot; he couldn’t even figure out how to voice the contract questions with the assistant that led him here.
His face flushed and his earlobes reddened, he bit his lower lip, feeling flustered.
Putting aside the bizarre nature of the top donor being a pervert, he hadn’t expected to encounter this person while coming to confirm the contract.
Yan Chuan was completely unprepared. He had been contemplating how to contact the top donor, what excuse to use to arrange a meeting, wondering if it would be too abrupt.
Plus, what to say once they met; he needed to strike a balance. Enough to meet the requirements of their arrangement but not overstep, avoiding a situation like Evan’s, where it almost led him to meet the donor’s parents.
From what he remembered, the top donor was quite the pervert, and he couldn’t treat him like he had with Ke Li.
After all, Ke Li could still be considered a bit innocent; seeing him be close with Lian Zhan caused him to explode, but Qi Yan was different.
Before meeting Qi Yan, Yan Chuan had imagined him being that strong, difficult-to-approach type of man.
He seemed polite yet exuded an air of control that didn’t allow for dissent.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have so casually proposed sending him items in exchange for worn stockings, insisting the sizes were all a perfect fit.
Looking down at the “clothes” he had thrown to the side, Yan Chuan averted his gaze slightly.
This abrupt meeting truly reflected one’s character through appearance and bearing.
Feeling slightly embarrassed, he glanced at the clothes he wore.
The other man’s attire was impeccably tailored, with accessories carefully chosen—a deer antler brooch pinned at the collar—everything about him screamed sophistication.
While he, on the other hand, thought he was merely coming in to confirm the contract, had thrown on a simple white dress that reached his knees, styled too simply for comfort.
The short sleeves exposed his pale arms and slender legs, revealing expanse of white skin.
In this office, he felt like a little lost lamb that had accidentally wandered in.
Yan Chuan shifted back a step, a bit wary, creating more distance between himself and the man.
He wasn’t quite ready to converse with him just yet.