marlowemuses | Sometimes you need a little fake dating corporate espionage

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Sometimes you need a little fake dating corporate espionage

Huaisang knows that he's being extremely rude showing up with no notice, especially to someone who values privacy as much as Mr. Hands does. But he's desperate, and Mr. Hands is his best bet for several reasons.

He waits to be allowed in, arms hugged across his chest as he vibrates with nerves. Despite being a wealthy and spoiled young man with a known taste for fashion, today he's very simply dressed in plain gray slacks and a white shirt, and his hair is pulled up into a bun at the back of his head and tied with a white ribbon, nothing like the intricate Nie clan braided bun or some of the more flashy styles Huaisang sometimes plays with. He is grieving, after all--his brother's death is extremely recent, of the same illness that took their father fifteen years ago--but this is more than that. He wanted to be overlooked today, and he's good at knowing how to be overlooked.

As soon as he's let in, Huaisang greets his host with a brief formal bow, starting to speak before he's fully risen from the bow. "Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr. Hands. I hope you'll forgive me for not messaging you in advance, I'm afraid I forgot my phone at home." He's quivering where he stands, thinking that he should probably sit down before he shakes apart, but his voice is steady, with a matter-of-fact air to it that he doesn't think Mr. Hands has ever heard from him before. Very, very few people ever have heard such a tone from him before. When he's seen Mr. Hands in the past, Huaisang has only been his brother's shadow, ostensibly learning the family business--steel and silver mines grown into a powerful metal and industrial corporation--but always shy and skittish, disinterested in practicalities and responsibility. Huaisang still remains intensely disinterested in those things, but he has always been more observant than anyone realized, and he's long since made an art of getting what he wants while letting other people think it was their idea. But here and now, he cannot rely upon manipulation and misdirection. If he wants Hands to help him, he needs to be forthright about the what and the why. Huaisang needs to be able to trust someone, so he hopes he's gambled right.

"I'm no good with tech. If someone has made the effort to put a tracker on my phone, I'd be unlikely to notice it. I took two different taxis to get here. If you refuse my request, then I don't want anyone knowing that I came to you. I..." Huaisang sways a little on his feet, feeling overwhelmed by grief, rage, terror, and a dozen other emotions. "May I have a drink?"

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There are very few people with either the location of his office or the sheer balls to simply turn up unannounced. So when he receives the message from the security station downstairs to say Nie the youngest is requesting access, he's momentarily surprised. It's not easy to surprise Mr. Hands, though it's fortunate for the young man in particular that what it provokes is curiosity, not ire.

It's a real shame that the boy's - not a boy, a young man now - brother has passed. Hands had grown to enjoy doing business with him, and every time Huaisang had trailed in too, it had been intriguing to watch the family dynamic.

This is the most he's ever heard him talk in one go, he guesses, and is already turning away to fix something strong. It isn't tea but a fine Scottish whisky instead.

"My condolences again, Huaisang," he says, despite having sent his condolences already with a beautiful arrange of white lilies to the young man. The tumbler of whisky is pressed into Huaisang's hands, metal digits curling over his shoulders to steady him for the moment.

"Take a breath, then some whisky. Then start from the beginning, hm?"

Huaisang nods, gratefully curling his hands around the glass and taking a breath. "Thank you," he murmurs, voice soft and sincere. He takes a sip, making a little sound of pleasure at the quality whisky. Huaisang loves to drink, and he's had plenty of access to excellent liquors thanks to his wealth. He appreciates quality and beauty in all things, and liquor seems to him as much an art as any other creation.

Once he's seated and the whisky has started to warm his belly and steady his nerves, Huaisang takes a breath and starts to talk. "I have reason to suspect that my brother did not die of illness, but that he was poisoned. I don't know yet--I haven't had time to consider the implications of whether his legitimate illness was exacerbated by poison or whether my father was poisoned, too, whether his doctors simply took for granted that it was the same illness with the same symptoms or if his doctors were corrupt or compromised, I ... I feel crazy enough with paranoia as it is."

Another breath. Another sip. He's trying desperately to keep himself on topic, to communicate his information as clearly as possible. He can't manage to look at Hands while he talks, doesn't think he can bear empathy without bursting into tears, and he needs to get this information out first. "I can go into the details later, but for now ... let's just start from the fact that Mingjue was poisoned. Either in conjunction with his illness or not, but leading to his death. So. Murdered." Huaisang's hand is shaking badly enough that he's at risk of spilling the liquor, so he knocks back the rest of the glass and then sets the glass down safely. "I've seen enough crime dramas to know that ... I don't know. Motive, means, opportunity. Who benefits? Not ... not you, I don't think. Not me, really, even though I'm the primary shareholder now and thus I control the corporation. Everyone knows I don't have the ability to run a company, so it's just a question of who controls me. Who influences my control over the company, if we're putting it more nicely. Who advises and guides my decisions. And that ... that means Meng Yao and Lan Xichen. They were Mingjue's closest friends, they'd even sworn an oath of brotherhood, which both of them considered to extend to me. Meng Yao worked for Mingjue for years--I'm sorry if I'm repeating things you know, I know you already know much of this, but I want to put it ... I want to make sure it's all together in context. To make sure you're not missing any important pieces."

His shaking has eased a little as he's become more focused on spelling out his logic, putting the pieces of the puzzle in order. "Meng Yao practically raised me. He was Mingjue's second in command for years. Then he left suddenly, they had some kind of quarrel. Meng Yao was the illegitimate son of Jin Guangshan--I think everyone knows that--and after Meng Yao's role in the Wen Corp corporate takeover, Guangshan finally recognized him. So now he's got a lot of command in Jin Industries, and he does all his father's dirty work. Lan Xichen and the Lan sect in general are supposedly disinterested in this, but Lan Xichen often advised and persuaded Mingjue on his decisions. I think Meng Yao or Lan Xichen poisoned Mingjue--possibly both together, since they are very close. If it was Meng Yao, then he may have acted alone or on his father's orders. But at least one of them is involved. And I intend to avenge my brother."

Hands is well-versed in providing huge swathes of silence with which other people are invited to fill. Usually it's so he can enjoy the benefit of most people deeply disliking what they perceive as empty air. So much information is shoehorned into the lack of conversation that, more often than not, people share more than they meant to.

That's not the case here, though not because Huaisang is oversharing. Hands can see the moments where the young man is forcing himself to stay on track, despite the almost stream of consciousness feeling. It's purely a testament to Hands' own experience that his expression remains neutral throughout. There are no gasps or sharp breaths in at these hefty accusations.

Simply put, the business world they play in is a shark tank, and he wouldn't really be all too surprised if something untoward had happened.

"Have you shared even an inkling of this with anybody else?"

Huaisang shakes his head at the question, finally lifting his eyes and watching Hands' expression now that he's laid all this out, studying him with shy, skittish intensity. "No one suspects that I hear or notice even half the things that I do. People are unguarded around me because they know that I'm useless and harmless--and I am, mostly. That's not an act. I've never wanted to hurt anyone before. And I am terrible at most of the business things. I don't want to deal with all of that and I don't want to learn it. Anyway, even at home, there are a few people I trust, that I think are absolutely loyal, but I haven't hinted this even to them. I can't be sure there aren't spies in my own home. I can't be sure of anyone. But I'm willing to gamble that I can be sure of you."

His hands curl into fists at this declaration, determination providing his nerves with a little of his brother's steely certainty. Mingjue had always had plenty of determination and nerves of steel, but he'd never had even a drop of subtlety. "You didn't stand to benefit from Mingjue's death. It meant the probable loss of your business partnership with Nie Corp, since your partnership was always more based upon a history of trust than any specific contract. You aren't on the board of directors, and you don't have a controlling interest in the stock. You had no possible reason to expect that I'd take the gamble of coming to you like this, making the kind of offers that I'm prepared to make, if you'll help me."

He's scared that Hands will turn him away, tell him he's being absurd and asking too much, that he doesn't want to be involved in this mess. "I admit that when I got into a taxi to come here, I didn't have much of a plan. I was just going to ask for your protection and advice. But on the way over, I had time to think it over, and I have a few different ideas."

Biting down hard on his lip with nerves and fear, Huaisang takes a breath and keeps talking, needing to get it all out. "There's an empty spot on the board of directors and a CEO needs to be appointed. That meeting is supposed to happen tomorrow. I can come up with a way to delay it if I need to, but not for long. The spot is intended for me, but I'd rather stay as the owner of the company and have someone else serve as the CEO. And if someone else takes that spot, I still have a seat at the board of director's table. I can, technically, put someone else there. Both Meng Yao and Lan Xichen are already on the board. If I show the kind of strength of will to appoint my own CEO, overriding their suggestions, they'll realize immediately that they can't sway or control me, and that means that I immediately become a target. If I have to go in there alone, to do this myself, then I'd like a security detail from you to help protect me, but even then I'm immensely out of my depth and I fear I'll fail both in control of the company and in avenging my brother. Still, if that's all the help you're willing to risk, you'd still have my gratitude and more than adequate compensation.

"My second option is to send in someone as a proxy. You, or someone you appoint. Goes in, carries my votes to the board of directors. Speaks on my behalf in the meetings. Even takes that seat as CEO, if you're willing or have someone qualified that you're willing to put forward. It means I stay behind and safe, but it makes it more difficult for me to investigate anything, and it means that whoever goes in will be constantly dealing with pushback from the board, demanding to confirm my votes, arguing that I'm being controlled.

"The third--" Huaisang has leaned forward as he's been talking, invested in laying out his ideas, but suddenly he pauses and sits back, pressing the back of his hand over his nose and mouth to half hide behind it as a blush flares across his cheeks. "It's absurd. It's embarrassing. But I also think it could really work."

He fidgets, looking away again, blush continuing to grow across his face. "We go in together. You take the seat on the board, you take the role of CEO, and you keep me at your side and treat me like ... like a boytoy. We make everyone think that you've seduced me, that you're taking advantage of my emotional vulnerability and my need for guidance, in order to step into the power vacuum that's suddenly available. And it's an immense amount of power. I know that you prefer to work quietly, behind the scenes, and this is asking you to step into a very public position, but it's a lot of power. And as long as you keep me safe, protect my interests and run the company well, it'll really be yours. I don't know how to run something like that, but you do. It'll drive them all nuts, especially if we really play it up, if I hang on you and act besotted. They'll know you're influencing me, but they'll have to deal with you when it comes to business matters, and they'll have a hard time swaying me if I'm acting the infatuated airhead that they already think I am. And without their attention on me, I'll have more freedom to investigate. I ..." He can't think of anything else that he immediately needs to communicate, and he feels like he's about to die of blushing from making this request, so he just goes quiet and hides his face behind his hands.

Hands makes it his business to be several steps ahead in any given moment and also to give off an air of it being truly effortless. But the truth is he works hard to ensure he's got everything in place so he can have a series of back-up plans should his first choice not pan out in a satisfactory way. He's spent years building his reputation to where it is today, and it's because of this he's able to do business at this level.

As the young man talks his way through the options he sees, Hands' expression is inscrutable, but behind his eyes his brain is working triple time. Ultimately, he wouldn't have been able to guess what Huaisang's preferred avenue might be, but he allows precisely none of that to slip through into his features.

It's not a cold stare he levels at the younger man, but it is intense, as though he's trying to ascertain if this is some kind of ill-informed prank. He's never particularly gotten the impression the family entertain pranks like this and, while he's had less dealings with Huaisang in comparison to his father or older brother, Hands doesn't think pranks are particularly in character.

"Interesting."

It's all he gives for a long moment before turning away and fixing himself a glass of the whisky, knocking it back in one. Likely the only indication that he really hadn't anticipated any of this arriving on his doorstep. In the end, he chooses to give the younger man a bit of insight that maybe he wouldn't usually give away.

"I can't yet tell if this is incredibly foolish or incredibly clever."

After a couple of seconds of silence, Huaisang drops his hands to his lap, but he looks aside, waiting patiently for Hands to think it all over. His cheeks are still blazing, embarrassed to have asked for such a thing, but he doesn't feel any regret or doubt, only embarrassment for asking so much, for something so absurd, for asking to be intentionally treated like that.

"Probably both," Huaisang says, soft and resigned. It's a wild scheme that he came up with in the car ride over. As he marinates in his embarrassment, he reflects that it's probably a fantasy more than an actual plan. It's what he wants: someone to protect him, to make his decisions for him, to treat him as desirable.

"I'll be able to fulfill my part of the performance without difficulty, so you don't need to worry about that." He keeps his eyes averted, something very submissive in the way he keeps his spine elegantly straight but his eyes lowered, waiting to be told what to do. "I find you attractive. You're my type."

He'd flirted with Hands before, though never for more than a moment. They'd never been alone before, never had a real conversation. His flirtations had only ever been a flash of impishness showing through his usual shy reserve, a playful smirk paired with the comment that Hands' wife (now ex-wife) was lucky. The dichotomy of his personality, flipping from shy to shameless in an instant.

He knew, also, that Hands was probably thinking about Huaisang's reputation. He showed up frequently in the tabloids because of his romantic life, openly bisexual and with deeply questionable taste in partners, a tendency to go for bad boys but also an apparent willingness to date anyone who would have him, anyone who desired him and gave him attention. It would be fair, he knew, if Hands scorned him for the comment about his type. Who wasn't his type? He was a slut, and desperate for attention and validation.

"I've come to you for protection and guidance," Huaisang says at last, still quiet, still with his eyes submissively lowered. "I'll trust in whatever you advise. Tell me how to handle this, and I'll obey."

Silence gathers long after Huaisang finishes speaking. He should be reasonably familiar with it given Hands can and does sit comfortably in silence as a perfectly acceptable strategy to gather intel. But that isn't the meaning of this particular silence.

Hands has a sharp mind, incredible business acumen. He's a heavyweight in the business world and for good reason. He takes promising opportunities, not stupid risks. And when a prize for the taking is big enough, there's very little he won't do to engineer it falling into his hands.

Huaisang is aware of all of this, and yet still seems to think Hands will make a good barrier between him and all the vipers.

He's not wrong. Though just because he's not a viper doesn't mean he isn't a shark.

"I need to know you truly understand what it is you're asking for, Huaisang."

Huaisang's quivers start to return as the silence goes on a little too long, his insecurities starting to rise, but he keeps his mouth shut and waits. He's provided all the information that he has to offer, and he trusts that Hands needs time to process it. Huaisang won't be surprised if Hands declines to make an immediate decision, though he trusts that if Hands puts him off, he will offer solutions for the interim.

"Which part, I suppose," Huaisang says, lifting his eyes again, letting Hands see that he's earnest but scared. "But I don't think you're asking about the performance part of this. I think you're asking for my business assessment. As I said, I'm no good at most of the aspects of business, but I am very good at people, and I am very good at ... noticing how things move. How pieces fit together."

Gaining a little bit of confidence again as he talks, as his mind slips into analytics separate from emotions, Huaisang lifts his chin and meets Hands' eyes straight on. "Neither you nor I operate in the slightest bit the way my father nor my brother do. Did. I understand that I'm offering you near total control of my company with almost no oversight. I understand that I'm putting an immense amount of trust in someone I barely know. I understand that your modes of operation and your morals are nothing like how the Nie Corporation has traditionally been run. But I'm familiar with your track record with my family, your reliability and results, and I think I'm more aware than either of them ever were that despite the fact that I believe you are a man of your word and that you would always honor a deal, you are not what I would describe as ... let's say above-board."

Finally looking away again, Huaisang drops his eyes as his topic shifts from Hands to himself. "I understand that I am in a situation that I am ill-equipped to handle, which I am only now realizing is far more dangerous than I previously suspected. I ... I ... It's possible that I could do this myself. I know who in that company I trust enough that I'd push them into this role, but none of them are capable of handling the manipulation and backstabbing of Meng Yao and-or Lan Xichen. I'd have to do that myself, and rely upon my people for the bureaucratic aspects of running the company for me. I think ... I might have the ability to survive that. But I don't ... I don't think I have the emotional stability to survive it. I think I'd break. I don't think I could survive more than a couple of months before I just lock myself in my room and can't manage to care enough to keep going, or before I lose and they kill me. Probably both. I break down, they arrange to make my death look like suicide."

Tears start spilling as he finishes this speech. Eyes averted, Huaisang picks up his glass and rises, going to the decanter of whisky and pouring for himself. He knows it's rude to do it without asking, but he already feels like he's only barely holding back the border between quiet tears and helpless sobbing. So he pours. Takes a drink. Gathers himself for a moment before he can manage to speak, eyes unfocused in the direction of his glass. "What else do I need to understand, Mr. Hands?" It's a genuine question, quietly earnest. If he's missed something, Hands will tell him.

Listening closely to the answer, Hands is trying to determine whether Huaisang is talking at length to smother the fact he doesn't really understand or whether he's able to speak on it like this because he does. The break, when it comes, as Huaisang fixes himself another drink, allows for him to contemplate it all.

What's being offered is extremely irregular even in the business world that Hands has been playing in for many years now. What would this young man's older brother and father think of this new development? He'd always had a good working relationship with both men in their respective tenures, but how they'd feel about him assuming control of their company? He's not sure on that.

Eventually he turns to regard Huaisang, the last standing bastion of the Nie clan, and observes him steadying himself before he answers. The show of emotion doesn't make him all too uncomfortable, not least because his capacity here isn't in question. He's a business associate, not a therapist. That said, he does pluck up a gold-plated box of tissues and offers them to the young man.

"You are well aware that I am a businessman by my very nature. What is to... understand... is that if you are effectively ceding control of your company over to me, it won't be by appearances alone. You will be signing away control to somebody who intends to actually run it. And what's mine I do not relinquish control of. So I want you to be very clear on the fact that while you are asking me a favor, I intend to and will take adequate payment."

Huaisang takes the tissues with thanks and sits again, quietly dabbing at his eyes. He allows himself no pause. The moment that he lets go of control over himself, he knows that he's going to have a breakdown. So he has to push ahead until this is concluded.

"Yes, Mr. Hands," Huaisang says, quiet and subdued. He's aware it must be extremely visibly obvious that he's only barely maintaining his polite facade, and he needs desperately to be shuttled into a hot bath and then tucked into bed. It hardly matters that it's still early. Huaisang's come to the end of his ability to function for the day. "That's the request that I'm making and the deal that I'm offering. Whatever appearances we put on in order to find and punish my brother's killer may be discarded as soon as that task is complete. We can go our separate ways at that point, if you wish. I have more than enough personal wealth to fund the lifestyle I desire. While I will always maintain a controlling interest in the company because my position as majority shareholder is not on offer, and I do expect that your protection over me and my interests will continue in perpetuity, I am offering you the position as CEO and chairman of the board without conditions. I hope you'll respect my brother's memory and care for those workers within the company who have been dedicated and loyal, but if you choose to run the company in a way that would shame and enrage the rest of my ancestors, well." Huaisang's lip curls. His father was not a kind man. Though he was always a just man, that justice was heavy-handed and without a drop of mercy. (Mingjue had had no choice but to be shaped into that same mold, to become a stern man of justice, but Mingjue had had a kind heart, and it had introduced a fatal flaw into the mold. He faltered from his father's path but didn't have the ability to forge a new path of his own.) "Fuck 'em."

Finishing off the last of his second glass of whisky, Huaisang sets it back down. "I'd like to dissolve into sobs now, Mr. Hands. I'll need to fetch at least a few things from the Nie Estate in the next few days, and tomorrow before the board meeting I can give you a full briefing on who will be present and what I know of their motivations and weaknesses. Until then, if you'll tuck me away somewhere safe and quiet? I don't wish to discomfit you with my grief."

Taking care of Huaisang's emotional stability isn't part of the deal. Huaisang expects that Hands will do whatever's necessary to keep him functional, will ensure that Huaisang has physical safety and luxury, but he expects no comfort or pandering beyond those practicalities. That remains Huaisang's responsibility, and Huaisang is fully aware that he's a broken wreck of a person. But he'll keep their deal and provide Hands with all the assets and access he has to offer, and he'll be a lonely, tragic lump on his own time.

Despite his formidable reputation in business, Hands isn't a cruel man. Emotions are something he prefers not to express in most settings, though this isn't the first time he's had somebody in front of him at edge of a breakdown. And it isn't really any wonder given all that the young man has experienced of late.

He doesn't intend to be cold as he nods, the incline of his head far from the comfort he's sure the young man needs. He just isn't able to cross a boundary he set many years ago. Unwilling, even, to protect the fact that this is a business arrangement and, perhaps, a favor for more than just Huaisang.

"Of course. If this facade is to be convincing, we must make it appear so. I can furnish you at one of my villas just outside the city. 24/7 security and all the amenities you might require."

Something he can organize with one simple phone call that he makes as he turns away from the young man.

"...yes, I will be hosting a very special visitor I want you to take very good care of until I'm able to attend myself. Thank you, Antonio."

The call is ended and he turns back to Huaisang, hands clasped together as he regards him almost sympathetically.

"We will meet first thing at the villa. Until then... you will be very well looked after by my assistant. I'll accompany you down to the car."

Huaisang starts to rise, falters, and falls back on the couch. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his own unsteadiness, Huaisang rises more steadily on his second try, smoothing down his clothes and drawing himself up with elegant stubbornness. Arrangements have been made, he has what he needs. He tells himself quite sternly that he can manage to walk without collapsing.

"Thank you, Mr. Hands," Huaisang says, perfect polite composure in his increasingly fragile shell. There's just a moment for it to shift, so that his veneer changes from 'competent elegance' into something else. His teeth bite down on his lower lip and his chin drops. His shaking returns and intensifies immediately, and he looks painfully young and helpless, a lost boy who just wants to be told what to do. It's so much more like how he has always seemed, though with all the cracks of his grief and anxiety showing through now, and his eyes glance up like he's looking for guidance and approval, for just a moment before he looks down again, meekly allowing himself to be led downstairs to the car. He speaks not a word further, aside from a timid greeting to the assistant and another murmured thanks to Mr. Hands, and his eyes do not lift again.

Whether Huaisang is aware of it or not, Hands' hand hovers at the small of his back every time he wobbles too far in one direction. He never needs to actually course correct, but the guide is there just out of sight all the same. As they go, people make space for them, a clear show of deference until they arrive in the lobby where they're greeted by Antonio.

Hands doesn't often spend much time down here beyond his coming and going for the day, and so gazes do surreptitiously slide towards them and this strange irregularity. Perhaps Huaisang will get a taste of how incredibly well organized Hands is that he leans in when he speaks, that hand finally making contact with the small of his back. It could just be to afford the young man privacy, but to anybody watching on it could look far more intimate than just that. Wheels are now in motion.

"I don't anticipate anybody visiting the villa this evening. Security know this and will deal with any unwanted guests in the same way they usually do."

He's half speaking to Huaisang but knows Antonio will be listening in too.

"Try to rest. Everything will be taken care of for you. Anything you don't have that you need, simply let Antonio know. I'll meet you tomorrow morning at the villa at 7am where we will talk ahead of the board meeting. Do you have any questions for me?"

Huaisang isn't initially aware of the hand, though he is aware of Hands staying close beside him. He's grateful for the proximity, taking comfort from it even if Hands is only protecting his new asset.

His body is relaxed at the touch, at Hands leaning in close to him, and he lifts his eyes, red-rimmed from tears, to watch Hands' expression with trust while he's given instructions. "I understand. Thank you." Huaisang hesitates only a moment, mind still alert enough to understand that this is part of the performance, that they already have their first audience, but that just means he needs to be genuine. He doesn't need to draw any attention or deflect any thoughts. Their proximity will contain all the implication they need.

Leaning up, Huaisang presses a soft kiss to Hands' cheek, then goes to trail meekly after the assistant.

Satisfied that Huaisang will be taken care of, Hands returns to his office and attends the rest of his appointments for the day. The apartment he stays in is relatively closeby and it's just as well since he's hardly ever available for sleep until the early hours.

Despite the late finish he's at the villa perfectly on time the next morning, his suit a beautiful navy pinstripe that was as expensive as it looks. He's holding onto a tablet as he walks in, stride every bit as confident as he feels given what a momentous day it's likely to be.

Wherever Huaisang may be, Hands has him brought to the more formal sitting room, sipping at a tiny espresso - not tea for now - with the smooth sounds of what sounds like forest noises playing ambiently through the sound system.

"Ah, good morning. How did you sleep?"

Once Huaisang is settled safely into the comfort of his new room, he goes first to the bath, sinking down into the warm water and letting himself weep. He doesn't know how much time passes like that, but he feels entirely shriveled by the time that he staggers out of the tub and dries off, curling into bed still soggy and pulling the covers up over his head.

He expects to sleep, feeling more exhausted by his emotions than he can remember being in his life, and more time slips away as he lays there blankly under the covers, mind empty. But sooner than he would have expected, his brain starts to boot up again, supplying points to worry about, fears to stress over, important details to remember. As those start to build, stacking one upon the other, he pushes himself up out of the bed and pulls on a robe, taking the time to rub lotion into his skin while he puts his worries and details together into priorities and plans.

Ringing for the assistant who has been set as his keeper, Huaisang requests dinner and paper to start with, and then to speak to Antonio once those things are delivered.

"I'd like to call the Nie Estate to speak to Zonghui, who manages my estate there," Huaisang explains, having carefully planned out what he wants to say. He's aware of the delicate line of being able to trust Hands' security but also the importance of secrecy regarding the things he's told Hands and the specific nature of their arrangement. "He'll be worried about me, I left suddenly and I left my phone behind. I'll ask him to pack a bag for me with a few things that I'd like to have. I think that Mr. Hands wanted to have my phone checked, as well, to ensure that it doesn't have any trackers or, I don't know. Spy ... recording ... stuff? And he might have wanted to put a tracker of his own, I think?" Huaisang bites his lip, all uncertainty, even though he knows perfectly well that his words will get Antonio to have Hands' people check the phone, and for Antonio to check with Hands about what trackers or bugs he would like put on the phone, to report on Huaisang's unworried acceptance of that possibility. "You should probably save Zonghui's contact information after I talk to him. He can provide just about any access that Hands or I might require."

He makes the call in front of Antonio, expecting that Antonio will report to Hands on some or all of what Huaisang says or does. The bargain he's made requires that he has no secrets from Hands and no privacy. The better Hands can monitor him, the better Hands will be able to protect him. In addition to that, despite the massive amounts of trust that Huaisang's placing in him, he's aware that Hands has relatively little reason to trust Huaisang in return. He's proven himself to be dangerous and subtle, and so he assumes Hands will be reassessing Huaisang's capabilities, analyzing what he says and how much he's lying, and constantly checking for any motivations that Huaisang might have that he hasn't been honest about. And any time that Hands spends worrying about that is time away from carrying out Huaisang's priorities. So he'll make himself as transparent and available as possible, and expect none of the same in return.

The call is relatively straightforward, requesting a few days worth of clothes and toiletries. He has to repeatedly reassure Zonghui that he really is safe, he hasn't been kidnapped, and offers a memory as proof: Do you remember when Wei Wuxian and I snuck off and I forgot to tell anyone and Mingjue was so worried because he thought I'd been kidnapped, but we'd just been at a games center driving go-karts? I was safe then, I'm safe now. It makes for an easy coded communication, since Zonghui knows it's an example of a time Huaisang had gone somewhere of his own will and he'd been safe. That's all he needs or wants to communicate. He's safe, he's doing this of his own volition. He trusts Zonghui more than anyone, and yet. Just a few years ago, Meng Yao had held Zonghui's job, and Huaisang would have said that he trusted Meng Yao with his life.

Huaisang has learned now not to trust anyone.

He leaves it up to Antonio to arrange whether the bag will be picked up or delivered, and assumes that his things will be very thoroughly searched before they're actually brought to his room.

Then he picks up the paper he requested and gets to work.

On each page he puts a name and a brief little portrait sketch. They're light caricatures, features exaggerated just enough to make them more recognizable, and Huaisang is a good enough artist that each portrait is recognizable with only just a few lines to shape them. Next to the portraits, he starts building out quick facts from what he knows on each member of the board of directors and the additional C-suite execs who he expects will be present but do not have seats on the board.

As he told Hands, he doesn't understand business, but he does understand people. For each profile, he outlines their role of the company, his (limited) perspective on their competence within that role, their other business interests, family and social connections, flaws and weaknesses, and any additional known motivations or influences.

In the morning, Huaisang dresses in a manner that's still very restrained, though there's more expense and flowing fabrics involved, closer to his normal apparel. He puts his hair up in intricate braids, precisely matching his brother's traditional braids, though he secures it again with a plain white ribbon rather than any of his usual ornaments. His eyes are still a little red-rimmed and puffy, but he otherwise looks elegantly composed. The composition says socialite rather than businessman, but that's the result Huaisang wants. He wants to be seen as lovely, expensive, a dutiful heir to the Nie family, but still frivolous enough to be incapable of making his own business decisions.

He yawns his way through breakfast, used to sleeping in past nine rather than being up and breakfasted and ready before seven, and he's still yawning as he's brought in to where Hands is. He sees the espresso, antithetical to Huaisang's love of pleasure and sweets, and requests a cinnamon sugar cappuccino for himself, biting his lip with shy, yielding sweetness as he requests anything from the servants.

As he settles into a chair opposite Hands, Huaisang holds out the stack of profiles that he's put together, papers folded so that their contents are hidden. He doesn't know--or particularly care--whether Hands will copy or destroy this information after Huaisang has given it to him, but he's at least taken care not to allow even Antonio a glimpse. The information is for Hands alone, to do with as he pleases.

"I ... I slept all right. Everything has been lovely and I've been well cared for, thank you, Mr. Hands." Huaisang licks his lower lip again, that frequent tic of his, betraying a clear oral fixation. "This is who I expect to be present at the meeting and the highlights of what I know about them. If you want more of the softer details, things like Ouyang Zongzhu never misses his son's hockey games, I can provide what I know in more detail, but I thought it was better to stick to business profiles to get started." He's aware that Hands may already know details about at least some of the attendees, but Huaisang again chose to be thorough in order to make sure that Hands has all the data he needs.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sometimes you need a little fake dating corporate espionage

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