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墨書 Inktalez
Zhou Yinkun sat in the back seat, while A Yao glanced at the rearview mirror. "Brother Kun, are we going back to Mumbai?"
The man in the back seat lit a cigarette and scoffed at the question. "What’s the point of going back? Just to be a stepping stone for them? Damn Zhou Yaohui."
He had spent a whole year in Mumbai, working to secure resources and factories. Just as everything was set, he attended a banquet, only to return and find that the Mumbai government had already signed a deal with Zhou Yaohui. His older brother, lounging in Thailand, had done nothing but rely on being the heir chosen by their father, effortlessly snatching everything away.
Their father hadn’t even bothered to say a word, claiming it was all family business—whoever did the work was still doing business, and brothers shouldn’t hold grudges over such things.
Zhou Yinkun agreed and immediately flew back to kick Zhou Yaohui several times in the head, then grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the safe. The blood he drew was photographed and sent to their father—
It was just a normal brotherly fight; no need to dwell on it.
Their father, Sai Peng, had built his empire on drugs. In his youth, he smuggled through Myanmar and gradually learned the ropes. After decades of ups and downs, he became one of the most untouchable figures in the Golden Triangle. But Sai Peng wasn’t from Myanmar or Laos; he was a Thai-Chinese whose ancestors hailed from Hong Kong, originally named Zhou Peng.
Zhou Peng never married but had two mistresses, both Chinese women. One was named Zhang Sha, who had been with him since her teens and bore him his eldest son, Zhou Yaohui. The other was He Jingting, a girl he met in Hong Kong who later followed him to Thailand and gave birth to his younger son, Zhou Yinkun.
Zhou Yinkun was twelve years younger than Zhou Yaohui—youthful, strong, and reckless. In his early years, Sai Peng formed an armed group, throwing both sons into the fray. Zhou Yaohui dropped out midway while Zhou Yinkun took over the Kokang United Army in Myanmar. This was seen as recognition of his abilities; however, less than a year later, Sai Peng handed most of his drug business over to Zhou Yaohui.
On the surface, it seemed like both brothers were managing their father’s business well. In reality, though, the most dangerous dealings fell to Zhou Yinkun while the most profitable ones went to Zhou Yaohui. So while Zhou Yinkun flew around Southeast Asia dodging bullets, Zhou Yaohui sat in a grand villa in Bangkok counting money.
Zhou Yinkun shared his late mother’s stubborn nature; he preferred doing things his own way. Whatever Sai Peng forbade him from doing, he did it all anyway.
"What about Miss Kana's villa?"
"Yeah." Zhou Yinkun closed his eyes, feeling an inexplicable scent of ice cream in the car.
It was sweet yet creamy.
Zhou Yinkun opened his eyes. "Let’s go to that place—the one with the long-haired girl."
“......” A Yao pondered for a moment, “Miss Lainey?”
“No, not that one. The girl with glasses, the one whose voice is so soft you can barely hear her.”
With that hint, A Yao immediately knew who she was talking about.
Last year, Zhou Yinkun had met a working girl outside a bar. She was very beautiful but poor. Zhou Yinkun had promised to sponsor her college education, but it was merely a facade; the money was essentially what the girl earned from selling herself. Part of it went to tuition fees, and part of it went to buy medicine. Although he had never seen it firsthand, He Wenyao, who had been Zhou Yinkun's driver and bodyguard for the longest time, had a rough idea of what his style was like in bed.
But that made sense. Zhou Yinkun was flamboyant in everything he did, and that included his encounters in bed. Those who displeased him never ended well. However, he was relatively considerate towards women; at least he didn’t torment just one. He had several women in Bangkok alone. Whenever he thought of someone, he would go to her place; the only problem might be—he could hardly remember who was who.
By the time they returned to the villa that night, it was already quite late. As soon as they stepped inside, a gentle voice called out, “Brother Kun.”
“Miss Kana.”
“A Yao.”
The woman was in her mid-twenties, wearing a white silk nightgown. She affectionately linked her arm with Zhou Yinkun's and caught a faint scent of shower gel, realizing he had bathed before coming home.
Where did he wash? Who was he with? She lowered her gaze slightly and refrained from asking further questions.
“Did you miss me?”
The man’s hand wrapped around her waist as A Yao discreetly closed the door behind him. Compared to other women, Kana was somewhat different.
First, Zhou Yinkun remembered her name. Second, she lived in his house in Bangkok. Third, she had been living there for several years.
Seeing the man’s face again after such a long time made Kana’s ears flush red as she nodded shyly. Zhou Yinkun chuckled softly and kissed the top of her head, “I missed you too…”
His warm breath enveloped her, making Kana’s face turn crimson.
"Cooked noodles," the man said maliciously, pinching the soft flesh at her waist as he finished his sentence.
Seeing the surprise in her eyes, he said half-seriously, "I'm hungry."
"Haven't you eaten anything yet?"
"I just want to eat what you make."
Zhou Yinkun had left his formal suit somewhere else and returned wearing only a casual T-shirt, which faintly revealed the solid lines of his chest and abdomen.
"Then wait a moment, it will be ready soon."
But when Kana came out with the cooked noodles, the living room was empty. She paused, placed the noodles on the table, and went upstairs to check.
The man was casually sprawled on the large bed in the master bedroom, already asleep. His handsome face was half-buried in the pillow, the air conditioning set low, a thin blanket covering him only to his waist, leaving his bare back exposed. The marks on his skin were strikingly clear.
Those were scratches that only a woman's nails could leave, fresh and glistening with beads of blood. The traces told a story of wild passion, a blend of pleasure and pain that was dangerously intoxicating.
She gently approached him and pulled the blanket up to cover his body. Then she quietly stepped back and closed the door.
It was her fault for forgetting; how could she expect him to wait? He wouldn't wait—Zhou Yinkun had never been patient. He probably never missed her as much as he claimed, not even for her cooked noodles.
But... the pale hand gripping the doorknob tightened. He did like her. He never hid her existence from others and even allowed her to stay in his home like a mistress. Kana turned and went downstairs, finishing every bite of the noodles that Zhou Yinkun had left untouched.
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