SATC C8

Chapter 8 – Not Like an Act

Nighttime, Lichang, Aranya.

The Aranya district was located on the shore of Bohai Bay, under the administrative planning of Lichang County. The drive from the club to Lichang alone took more than an hour.

The grand opening party of this new nightclub was held right by the beach.

The person who had invited Ling Yibo was the vice president of a local shipping company on the island. The company was small in scale and eager to find a large shipping conglomerate to partner with for financing.

So, when word leaked that Ling Feng¹ was arriving at the island, this man seized the opportunity to network with Ling Yibo. He found out that Yibo would be staying for some time but wasn’t able to learn exactly where.

Ling Yibo sat separately with Xie Chongheng.

His bangs had grown long and were bothering him, so Yibo used a headband to push them back. His long legs crossed, he flicked his fingers lightly, sending a spark of crimson ash fluttering down from his cigarette.

The whitish-gray embers dropped at his feet.

Xie Chongheng slapped his arm. “Ling Er, you lit a cigarette but aren’t smoking. You burning incense or something?”

“You tell me, in what situation would someone who never smoked learn to smoke?” Ling Yibo responded with a question.

“When you’re frustrated? They say ‘one drink to dispel a thousand sorrows’², so usually people drink when depressed. But…” Xie touched his chin thoughtfully, “maybe when someone’s extremely anxious?”

But Yibo knew the man in question couldn’t drink alcohol.

“Right.”

Ling Yibo gave no further explanation, only tapped away another bit of ash before crushing the cigarette butt in his hand.

This booth was closest to the waves. The night sea breeze swept over them with a spray of mist, carrying away both the smoke and the fog from the dry ice inside the glass case.

The party began. The foreign DJ, muscular with bulging abs, was already so hyped up that he was down to just a tight tank top.

In such an environment — crowded and chaotic — there wasn’t need for too many bodyguards hovering closely, lest it kill the mood of the client.

Chu Yang handled it with ease, setting up a table nearby in a humane and discreet way, ordering a symbolic few drinks.

Added to the fact that it was already a high-energy, frenetic party, both he and Chen Jiali could stand and “play along.”

To say “play” — in reality, no one was more tense than Chu Yang during this outing. The bigger the crowd, the brighter the lights, the more eyes could secretly be following Yibo’s every move.

Ling Yibo wore rhinestone-studded shorts — all black crystals — paired with a solid black top, a sports headband, and a silver snakehead chain. The mix of boyish vigor and masculine maturity came together seamlessly…

It was still very much “Ling Yibo.”

His arm stretched lazily along the sofa, messy hair pushed back, sharp nose bridge and decisive lips — the aura he exuded was overwhelming.

Once again, Chu Yang deeply and vividly felt it — Ling Yibo had grown into a bona fide, fully mature Alpha.

“Brother Yang, you’re staring at his lower half,” Chen Jiali tilted his head back for a sip, “his shorts?”

Could he not breathe so heavily when he spoke?

“No.”

Chu Yang was helpless. He pulled at his freshly changed black shirt, unbuttoned it slightly at the collar, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Casually fishing out the slim cigarette Xie had given him, he lifted his wrist: “Jiali, don’t just stand there dumbly — get into it. Keep your eyes on the surroundings too.”

“But we can’t drink. I can’t even dance like this.” Chen gave a small, useless protest. “Not even just a bit of alcohol?”

“How much can you handle?”

“Limitless!”

Chu Yang didn’t care to indulge the banter. “How limitless?”

Chen thought hard. “Seven or eight liang³ of baijiu, no problem!”

“You can drink a little, but only a little.”

Chu Yang, however, couldn’t. If he got drunk later, he might as well pack up and stop working.

His alcohol tolerance was so poor that the only uncontrollable moment in his career had been because of it—

Once, the team hosted a private celebration for Ling Feng. Chu Yang had only two drinks and was drunk beyond sense, dizzy when someone told him: Second Young Master is looking for you.

Trying to force the intoxication down, Chu Yang took the call, slurring: “I’m on vacation today.”

Yibo replied: “So since you’re off duty, I’m covering your shift. Tell me where you are, I’ll come pick you up.”

Chu’s mind froze like a glitched chip, couldn’t compute. At the time, he somehow found Yibo’s logic — “the employee collapsed so the boss stepped in” — perfectly reasonable, even considerate.

So for the first time, Chu Yang sat in the backseat of Yibo’s Urus. Head drooping, woozily leaning onto Yibo’s shoulder.

The car didn’t move. He didn’t vomit, just mumbled, “I can’t drink at all… The first time you met me, you made me drink with you. Shameless.”

Then he felt his face pinched gently, heard that low voice with a helpless chuckle: “Such a small thing, and you still cling to it? Awake and still daring to call me shameless?”

About to say something more…

But drunk Chu Yang fizzled out, falling asleep.

Still, he vaguely remembered wanting to say: When it comes to you, I remember everything for a long time.

“Fine then — hey, how much is this bottle?” Chen Jiali sipped curiously from his glass.

“Over eight thousand,” Chu Yang answered, calm. “Don’t worry.”

All of it was charged to Second Young Master’s account. That man lacked love, lacked virtue, lacked common sense — but never lacked money.

No wonder it tasted so good.

Chen wasn’t sure whether to feel sorrow or joy, so he gulped more. “I’ll drink against these rich folk till the end!”

“You won’t win,” Chu Yang jabbed. “You’re his bodyguard, after all.”

Meanwhile, Zhou Du and Li Guanqi had gone to the central dance floor. Their role was like mobile players in a group battle — scouting each lane, filling gaps, circling back after, claiming it was “environmental assessment.”

Still, Chu Yang felt that these three men, working with him the past half month, were strung too tight — they needed to relax.

The longest, most critical watch — he would cover it himself.

Chu Yang toyed with a cigarette.

Holding it for a while, he thought the way he smoked was too proper, not convincing as someone accustomed to parties like this. So recalling how even more unruly Xie was compared to Yibo, he undid another shirt button, slipped the cigarette between his lips, leaned toward Chen with narrowed eyes: “Well?”

The narrow distance between his brows gave his gaze intensity, his nose bridge was thin not broad, his face narrow and small. His features aligned into a sharp, almost delicate beauty.

In this instant, his eyes resembled cracks opening in a sheet of ice in a frozen wasteland—

Out darted a vivid, living fish.

Chen had never seen this version of Chu Yang. The alternation between cool detachment and raw sensual tension created such a striking symmetry, it seemed unreal.

Staring dumbly, Chen remarked at last: “Not like acting.”

Elsewhere, the young heir who hosted tonight’s party was baffled.

The lighting rig was first-class, the rare beachfront location impeccable, the alcohol top-shelf, the atmosphere wild, DJs both male and female with sizzling bodies.

He’d even invited some of the most socially active locals to spice the scene. Why then was Second Young Master Ling so uninterested?

Spotting that Xie was more approachable than Yibo, the host eagerly clinked glasses with him: “Brother Heng⁴, forgive me if the hospitality is lacking — anything at all you need, just say the word!”

“Who? Who’s being polite with you?” Xie glanced around, ending the act with a grin. “I get it. When you’re out to play, if I’m unhappy I’ll just say it.”

Xie was a seasoned operator and caught on to the host’s meaning. When he sat again, he slapped Yibo’s thigh. But his palm smacked the rhinestones, and he winced in pain for several seconds.

Tilting down, his eyes nearly went blind from the glint.

Xie inhaled sharply. “Truly impossible to outshine you, Ling Yibo.”

No reaction. Odd.

Normally, Ling Er would never let a jab slide — yet tonight, nothing?

Xie tugged at the necklace on Yibo’s chest, smirking: “Fourth time!”

“What?” Yibo blinked, feigning awareness.

“We’re just on what, the fourth song? And already you’ve looked over at your Chu Yang four times.”

“…No I haven’t.” Yibo’s face couldn’t hide the blush.

“Four’s an understatement, isn’t it?” Xie chuckled.

“Well, didn’t you look at me four times too?” Yibo shot back, tactically chugging a sip.

“Wrong—hey, can you not—” Xie looked exasperated. “I’m talking about you.”

Meanwhile, the two bodyguards were diligently professional — they hadn’t sat once since the party began. Pretending to be wealthy hedonists while staying on duty was exhausting.

But Yibo, oblivious, hadn’t stood up to “play” either. With people pressing constantly through the narrow aisles, he just sat with chin tilted, in one fixed direction.

Yes, he’d only looked four times. But already five or six different strangers had tried approaching Chu Yang.

Men and women both — even one striking Omega. But Chu Yang had shown no response.

That cool disinterest Yibo appreciated — and it reassured him. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about the bodyguard ditching his post halfway through for some fling.

Though knowing Chu Yang’s professionalism, even if his heart stirred, he would never abandon his duty.

“You look like you’re thinking a lot.” Xie observed him.

“So?” Yibo downed another swallow.

“Call him over to hang out then,” Xie suggested shrewdly.

“He won’t relax during work.” Yibo dismissed.

“Then at least have him sit nearby. Right in your line of sight, then you won’t be unsettled anymore.” Xie winked.

Unsettled? Unsettled by what?

Unsettled.

…Unsettled.

After some inner circling, Yibo pressed his fingertip against the glass, swirling the condensation as melted ice watered down the liquor.

His casual reply: “Whatever.”

Xie knew the man’s mouth was stubborn — no strong objection meant wholehearted agreement. He stood, snapped his fingers, “Say no more, I’ll call him.”

Yibo acquiesced in silence, merely raising his glass for a distant clink. He tipped his head back, drained the rest.

True to his nature, Xie knew not to ask bluntly. If he directly invited Chu Yang to “come have fun,” Chu was bound to refuse, professional or not.

So he went brute force, leaning in close: “Ling Er says come join us a bit.”

He felt guilty for the trick — the more mesmerizing a man, the more dangerous too.

This strikingly handsome bodyguard, cold-faced and hard-hearted, had crossed his path a few times before, and he knew this one could fight.

Chu Yang looked up — locking directly with Yibo’s intent stare. The latter crooked a finger at him, casually.

Chu asked no further questions. He simply told Chen, “Stay here. Don’t drink too much. If you get drunk, say goodbye to this month’s salary.”

Startled, Chen immediately demanded soda water.

The beachfront VIP booth was the largest, the sofa curving into twin mirrored C-shapes like jade pendants embracing.

Yibo and Xie, as VIPs, had one side all to themselves. On the other side, six strangers clustered closer to the acrylic table at the midpoint.

Holding Xie back from shifting, Yibo gestured with a lift of his chin: “Sit opposite. Relax a while. Don’t stand there stiff all night. Nothing else going on.”

Nothing going on — indeed.

Chu had no idea what he was up to this time. Only replying softly, “Alright,” he sat among unfamiliar faces opposite.

Recognizing him from earlier, the host who had seen him trailing Yibo at the entrance now smiled with a flourish: “Come, come, sit with us — we’re all friends here. First have a drink!”

“Still on duty. Can’t drink.” Chu declined politely, twisting open his bottled water and clinking it lightly against the proffered wineglass.

“Not giving me face at all, eh?” the man grimaced.

“Apologies.” Chu did not.

Now that he was seated nearby, Yibo didn’t need to crane his neck anymore.

Still, he remained sprawled lazily, legs parted, glass hanging loose between his knees. His gaze, too casual to be blatant, kept flitting over to Chu again and again.

But strangely… seeing this aloof, untouchable figure of his surrounded by all this ostentatious debauchery—

It didn’t feel triumphant.

It wasn’t like seeing a white rose dragged into the mud.

Instead, watching those others inch close to him… made Yibo increasingly displeased.

Footnotes:

1. Ling Feng (淩沣) – Likely Ling Yibo’s elder brother, an important figure in the family shipping conglomerate.

2. “One drink to dispel a thousand sorrows” (一醉解千愁) – A traditional Chinese saying implying people drink alcohol to ease heartbreak or grief.

3. Liang (两) – A traditional Chinese unit of weight, here referring to alcohol capacity. One liang is ~50 grams, so “seven or eight liang” means around 350–400 ml of strong baijiu — very high-proof liquor.

4. Brother Heng (珩哥) – Addressing Xie Chongheng respectfully and familiarly, adding “哥 (ge)” indicating older-brother-like respect.