Kang Haichi was still inside, probably jerking off to his memory. He was more energetic tonight—he’d even gone so far as to finger Xiaokai as he sucked him off, his fingers searching without success to find Xiaokai’s prostate, but Xiaokai pretended he did and shuddered around him.

He was exhausted.

He overdid it.

At the very least, he hadn’t shown any of the scars Hu Yongzhu left him—the ones on his chest were covered by his shirt, and most of the wounds on his legs were either on the back, which had been pressed to the sheets for the entire meeting, or low enough that they’d still been covered by Xiaokai’s pants.

He found his driver outside and for a moment just sat in the back and breathed.

It was technically true that Kang Haichi could request an appointment at any time. He was on the List, and such things were allowed. But Xiaokai had been enjoying his ignorance for a while.

Oh well. At least Kang Haichi wasn’t as demanding as some of the people he had to meet.