Li Yaru made a quick adjustment to her appearance before taking Liang Sijie out.
The Bentley sped straight toward one of the most historic and prestigious men’s tailors in Hong Kong Island’s Central District.
This particular shop was frequently visited by Zhuang Qiting. Aside from bespoke suits crafted by exclusive ateliers in London and Paris, this was the most distinguished local establishment.
Zhuang Qiting was a stern and dignified man who disliked indulgence and had no extravagant tastes for food or drink, but when it came to dressing, he was meticulous.
Although his daily work engagements called for the same three-piece suits on rotation, he ordered new custom designs every month, constantly updating his ties and accessories.
Li Yaru had once teasingly remarked that he only grew more stylish with age.
Whenever Li Yaru thought of a tailor, this was the only place that came to mind without hesitation.
Inside the shop was quiet; a weekday afternoon meant few customers.
The dark walnut wood decor was retro yet understated, exuding a gentlemanly atmosphere, while warm lighting illuminated rows of exquisite, carefully crafted suits.
The clerk was new, speaking standard Mandarin, and eagerly brought over two bottles of Perrier water. “Hello, are you here for a bespoke suit?”
Li Yaru replied, “Is Baxter here? I want to order a suit.”
The clerk immediately recognized the distinguished lady before him as a VIP client and quickly said, “The boss is upstairs taking measurements for another customer. Madam, may I have your name?”
“Eleanor. He knows me.”
“Alright, please wait here. I’ll be back shortly.”
The upstairs was the private bespoke area, even more luxurious than downstairs, filled with the scent of high-grade ebony wood.
Zhuang Qiting sat on a sofa wearing a loose shirt, bored as he flipped through a new button sample book— crystal, shell, 24k gold, pearl, malachite, and various other materials flicking past his eyes.
Lately, his appetite had been poor, coupled with the constant social engagements, and he’d lost quite a bit of weight. His current shirts no longer fit well.
With Yi Kunshan’s twentieth wedding anniversary coming up next Tuesday and Li Yaru attending, he didn’t want to appear worn down or haggard, so he came to get a new suit made.
“Baxter,” Zhuang Qiting glanced toward the curtain where Baxter was whispering with the clerk, seemingly sharing some gossip.
“Here he comes, boss,” Baxter called out, the two tips of his goatee curling upwards. A soft tape measure hung around his neck. “Cyrus, guess who just walked in?”
Baxter and Zhuang Qiting had a good relationship going back ten years, their families having known each other.
Years ago, when Baxter insisted on becoming a tailor but was economically blocked and forced out, Zhuang Qiting, seeing his genuine plight, generously invested three million to take over this shop for him.
Zhuang Qiting raised a brow, expressionless. “Who?”
Baxter sized him up carefully. He was indeed thinner than before. His naturally stern and sharp features now seemed even more chiseled and commanding. “It’s Eleanor. Your wife. I invited her here. Or wait, is she still your wife now?”
Recently, there had been plenty of rumors involving the Zhuang family. They couldn’t all be baseless; after all, no one dared spread false gossip lightly.
Zhuang Qiting’s face darkened instantly. “If I hear one more joke like that, tomorrow I’ll have a bulldozer flatten your shop.”
Baxter fell silent, not daring to provoke this grim reaper. “Boss, don’t be mad. You know I have a loose tongue.”
“You certainly do.”
Baxter shrugged, thinking this man only got meaner with age. “So, what’s going on with you and ‘Sister-in-law’ recently? I’m out of the scene these days, but even I’ve heard the divorce rumors.”
Zhuang Qiting had no intention of going out to meet Li Yaru yet. He stood and gestured for Baxter to continue with the measurements, casually saying, “No divorce.”
Baxter raised his eyebrows, half believing, half skeptical. In the past, the man would have dropped everything to see his wife first; now he acted indifferent, even reluctant to show his face.
“Wait, since she’s here, I should at least greet her. Or you want me to pretend you’re not here?”
Zhuang Qiting paused a moment. “Say I’m not here.”
Baxter gave an OK sign and left without closing the door, but wisely pulled the curtain tight.
Zhuang Qiting sat back down on the sofa, relaxed, crossing his legs and flipping through the button sample book again, though his mind was clearly elsewhere, focused on the thin curtain outside.
First, the sound of heels clicking on the wooden floor approached— slow and rhythmic— then came Li Yaru’s captivating voice.
It was lazy and delicate, revealing a good mood, which was typical; she was always in a good mood when speaking with anyone except him.
Zhuang Qiting furrowed his brows.
“Baxter, long time no see. How’s business? You look so well,” Li Yaru teased.
Baxter’s goatee twitched as he smiled, eyes narrowing shrewdly while glancing at the man behind Li Yaru. “What business? Just holding down this old shop. Lucky to have you two little gods of fortune watching over it, making a living.”
Li Yaru smiled. “Got time now? I want to order a suit. And I need you to take the measurements personally.”
“For whom?” Baxter asked, feigning ignorance.
“For my little housekeeper.” She nodded toward Liang Sijie.
Little housekeeper.
She actually personally brought her lapdog/housekeeper to order a custom suit—was this the same man who used to tailor for her legitimate husband?
Zhuang Qiting snapped the book shut and lifted his head.
A three-meter-tall full-length mirror faced him, reflecting his sharp profile, dark pupils, and the handsome musculature visible beneath his open shirt. Though thinner, he was still striking, yet the aura of jealousy had eroded his charm, casting a shadow over him.
“Not bad for someone who works for you! No wonder,” Baxter slickly flattered, waving the clerk to show Liang Sijie to another room. “Handsome, there are new shirts for measuring inside. Change into one first. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Liang Sijie nodded and glanced at Li Yaru. “Madam, I’ll go in first.”
“Mm, I’ll pick some accessories and ties for you.” Li Yaru reached out, admiring the firm muscles hidden under the housekeeper’s uniform. Indeed, he was well-built.
As the door closed behind him, Zhuang Qiting stood, took off his shirt, grabbed a small-sized shirt to cover himself, and walked out calmly.
“The shirt’s too small, Baxter.”
Li Yaru was choosing a tie when she heard that familiar deep voice. She instinctively looked up, catching sight of Zhuang Qiting’s nearly half-naked figure without any preparation.
How did she run into him here? Damn it.
The man’s eyes were half-lidded, expressionless as he looked down at her.
The too-small shirt made his arms look even more solid. The collar hung open provocatively, casually exposing large patches of light tan skin. His chest and abdominal muscles were still sensuous and full of desire.
It had been months since she’d seen this body… She used to see it every day, touch it every night— the intimate, tangled memories surged wildly in her mind, striking her eyes with force. She was stunned, her throat dry, almost unable to look away.
“……”
Zhuang Qiting squinted slightly, casually buttoning two buttons to just cover his abdomen, and gave Li Yaru a faint smile. “Miss Li is here as well. What a coincidence.”
Miss Li…
Li Yaru quickly snapped out of it, her cheeks warming as her gaze darted up to his face. The last time they met was New Year’s Eve, and twenty days had already passed.
Why did he look thinner? His features were even more defined. In her memory, Zhuang Qiting had never been thin or fat; his discipline was terrifying, always keeping his body weight within the range tailored by his management team.
“What a coincidence, Mr. Zhuang, you’re here too.” Li Yaru lifted a delicate smile.
Zhuang Qiting asked, “Where’s Baxter?” He didn’t respond to her greeting, seeming reluctant to interact.
“I went to the restroom.”
Zhuang Qiting nodded, indifferent. “Who is the suit for?”
Li Yaru tried not to look at his chest, maintaining a composed smile. “My housekeeper.”
“Following you now requires a bit of pampering,” Zhuang Qiting said flatly. “If needed, you can use the fabric I ordered.”
“????”
Li Yaru’s expression turned strange. That was an odd thing to say, coming from him… almost sinister.
Her thoughts tangled, unsure if this was some new ploy, or if her New Year’s Eve words had struck a chord and he was finally yielding.
“You’re too generous, Mr. Zhuang,” Li Yaru said, trying not to let her smile look odd. “If I need anything, I’ll let you know. I won’t be polite.”
Zhuang Qiting: “No need for politeness. It’s a small matter after all. We’ve been married for nearly ten years.”
Just then, Baxter returned from the restroom. Seeing the two chatting, he teased lightly.
Zhuang Qiting nodded politely to Li Yaru, exuding charm. “Miss Li, please.” Then he turned and walked leisurely into the fitting room.
Li Yaru stood there stunned, watching his departing back.
Is he crazy? Is he really crazy? Li Yaru almost reached out to check if he had a fever.
This change was too sudden. She couldn’t process it. The man who went crazy at Li Residence on New Year’s Eve was now willing to share his personal belongings with her… housekeeper?
Li Yaru picked up two ties, feeling dizzy as she made her way to Liang Sijie’s dressing room.
Liang Sijie had taken off his uniform but hadn’t yet put on a shirt when the door suddenly opened. He turned to see Li Yaru.
“Madam…” His voice was husky, eyes lowered.
Li Yaru’s mind was filled with images of Zhuang Qiting’s chest and antics. She suddenly felt restless and uneasy but froze upon seeing Liang Sijie’s lean, muscular half-naked form.
“……”
Before her was a clearly defined six-pack, chest muscles bulging and rising with each breath. His skin was pale and cool to the touch, elegant but with a hint of wildness.
Exactly like the three photos on his resume, but even more impactful, exuding youthful vigor and energy.
Not as overwhelmingly sexy as Zhuang Qiting’s body, but… still the big chest she liked. So pale…
Not the light tan skin that radiated desire from Zhuang Qiting’s.
Li Yaru blinked. Had she gone crazy for chests today?
Liang Sijie noticed Li Yaru’s silence and stared at his own body. He pressed his lips tightly, hurriedly bending down to get his shirt. “Madam, sorry, I forgot to lock the door.”
He started putting on the shirt.
“Don’t put it on yet.” A calm command slipped from Li Yaru’s red lips.
Liang Sijie froze halfway dressing, caught between putting it on and taking it off, the shirt now hanging awkwardly on his bent arm.
Seeing Li Yaru approach, his heart pounded fiercely. The rich, mature floral scent she wore surrounded him like a garden after rain.
Li Yaru extended her hand, thoughtfully tracing the white, clean chest.
Liang Sijie’s pupils contracted sharply. His muscles tensed completely, holding his breath, afraid to move. The woman’s feet were delicate, her hands white and slender, warm fingertips and soft pads sparking a surge of emotion.
Li Yaru looked intently at the sexy male form before her, fingers aimlessly gliding from chest to abs.
The skin beneath her fingertips was cool, very clean and fresh, youthful even— smoother than Zhuang Qiting’s body. His skin was more like a warm fireplace; placing a palm on it felt as if she’d melt.
No. Something was off. Too off.
Why was her mind obsessed with Zhuang Qiting’s body? What was so good, so attractive, so memorable about an old man’s body?!
Li Yaru was unwilling to concede. Playfully, she spread her palm, covering Liang Sijie’s chest, gently pressing down as if trying to grasp the firm, flexible muscle.
“Why is your body temperature so low? Do you need some red date and ginseng to replenish your qi and blood?” Li Yaru suggested seriously.
Liang Sijie’s breath tightened. His voice was low. “Madam, this is a normal man’s body temperature.”
Normal body temperature?
So Zhuang Qiting’s burning heat was abnormal?
Li Yaru was surprised and poked again. “Really?”
She had limited experience, never having touched anyone else’s chest muscles before. For ten years, it had been the same man; she’d practically worn out Zhuang Qiting’s chest muscles.
Liang Sijie let out a low hum through his nose, helplessly. “Really.”
Li Yaru withdrew her hand. “I see. Sorry, I was rude. I didn’t mean to harass you.”
“No problem, Madam.” Liang Sijie finished dressing, head bowed as he buttoned the shirt.
Li Yaru sighed, unsure what had come over her. She just suddenly wanted to touch other chests, to test if touching other men could make her mouth dry and heart race.
She couldn’t believe she only liked Zhuang Qiting’s body— that was terrifying.
Luckily, Liang Sijie’s chest felt good to touch, didn’t make her dry-mouthed, at least brought some shyness and blush.
That was a good sign.
She had to find a man who could replace Zhuang Qiting to satisfy her… desires.
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