Chapter 22 Part 1

Three days ago.

Zheng Keqin’s fiancée held an art banquet at a modern art museum in the West District. The attendees were all prominent figures in art and culture, and of course, plenty of business partners as well. As Zheng Keqin’s friends and brothers, Zhou and Chi naturally showed up with gifts.

Chi Xianli wore a full black handmade three-piece suit, his gold tie tied in a Windsor knot, a red gem-carved rose brooch pinned to his left chest. From head to toe, everything screamed extravagance, with square red gem cufflinks peeking from his sleeves—lavish to the extreme.

Others went into the military to temper themselves and rein in their edges, but Chi Xianli? After four years in the army and four years of physical hardship, he emerged like he’d had an epiphany: life was short, so one should enjoy it to the fullest.

When Zhou Jinsheng stepped out of the car, Chi Xianli came striding up. His childhood friend had bulked up considerably since leaving the military, his ripped muscles impossible to hide even under that flashy outfit. Zhou Jinsheng withdrew his gaze and followed half a step behind Chi Xianli into the venue.

The moment the two entered, opportunistic eyes swarmed toward them. Even at a private banquet like this, plenty of social climbers lurked.

Zheng Keqin wore a dark green suit, his demeanor cool and elegant, though his smile was warm and approachable. He brought his fiancée over and briefly introduced her to Zhou and Chi.

“Chen Junyan, designer, my wife-to-be.”

Chen Junyan had a gentle air, light makeup on her face, and a faint smile. Her hair was long, her features the forgettable kind. To Zheng Keqin, she seemed a bit too ordinary, but her poise was neither servile nor overbearing, and her eyes sparkled with insight, as if they could see right through a person.

Hearing Zheng Keqin’s introduction, Zhou Jinsheng lifted his eyelids, his dark gaze flickering over her from beneath his lashes before quickly moving away.

As the banquet hostess, she didn’t linger. After a polite greeting, she moved on to receive other guests.

Watching her retreating back, Chi Xianli couldn’t fathom how Beijing’s famous young nobleman Zheng Keqin could fancy such an ordinary woman—enough to even get engaged.

Chi Xianli frowned deeply. “You’re really tying the knot with a woman like that for life?”

Love was a personal thing—only the drinker knew if it was hot or cold.

Zheng Keqin didn’t mind Chi Xianli’s bluntness, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “She’s going to be your sister-in-law someday.”

Chi Xianli couldn’t wrap his head around it. He grabbed a wine glass and walked off. Dressed to the nines, he was soon surrounded by those with ulterior motives amid the clinking glasses, the picture of debauched charm.

Zheng Keqin shot Zhou Jinsheng an amused look. “Did he really just get out of the military?”

Zhou Jinsheng arched one brow. “Want me to throw him back in?”

It was clearly a jab at Chi Xianli’s earlier rudeness toward Chen Junyan. Zheng Keqin relaxed his brows and played along. “Good idea. Then Junyan and I won’t invite him to our wedding.”

It had been a long time since the two had bantered like this. Zhou Jinsheng’s gaze drifted to a point in the void, as if struck by a thought. He suddenly asked, “You sure about this?”

Zheng Keqin blinked, his tone carrying a resigned calm. “Yeah, sure. No turning back.” They both knew what Zheng Keqin stood to lose by marrying an ordinary woman. Romance and love were just footnotes to the pursuit of power and profit.

Was it worth it?

Plummeting from the heavens into the mud—that tasted far from pleasant.

Knowing Zhou Jinsheng was reminding him, Zheng Keqin recalled his own past frailty, how he’d skipped straight into Jingyang without formal enrollment. The scandal had caused quite a stir in Shang Capital City.

As Zhou Jinsheng’s close friend and the third young master of the Zheng Family, he knew plenty of inside details—especially about “Shen Yu,” a name he’d heard about for years and was deeply curious over.

Zheng Keqin thought of the Zhou Corporation’s recent moves. Everyone loved gossip, and he was no exception—especially when it involved Zhou Jinsheng. He probed, “So, your recent behavior… got some plans brewing?”

The lights slanted like flowing water. Their spot was secluded, offering a view of the entire venue. Zhou Jinsheng leaned against the bar.

In the dim light, the tall man’s profile was sharply defined—thick brows sweeping into his temples, deep-set eyes, warm light catching on his dense lashes. He suddenly said:

“If I let him off, more and more people will come begging for my mercy. Zheng Keqin, I’m no saint.”

“What about it? I’ve brushed the gates of hell once; doesn’t he need to as well?”

Zheng Keqin froze, Zhou Mingli’s fate flashing through his mind.

Many didn’t understand why Zhou Jinsheng struck so ruthlessly. But if even an adopted weakling could get away with softness on a whim, what would others think? Who would stay loyal, fight and die for him?

That was Zhou Jinsheng.

A first love from their youth—if it were Zheng Keqin, he’d hesitate at the end, no matter the offense.

He truly couldn’t become someone like Zhou Jinsheng.

Zheng Keqin leaned against the bar, following Zhou Jinsheng’s gaze. In his view, the long-dormant art exhibits gleamed silently under the golden lights, mere silent backdrops to the swirling glamour and fragrance.

“Get out.”

The man’s brow ridge pressed low, his voice deep and icy.

Fuck, Shen Yu cursed inwardly. So it wouldn’t work after all?

Looks like he had zero talent for seduction.

Yet for some reason, a weight lifted from his chest. Shen Yu released Zhou Jinsheng’s tie, pushing up with his body to leave—only for his waist to be yanked down hard.

Shen Yu lost his balance. Without thinking, he let go of Zhou Jinsheng’s hand, fingers clamping onto the sofa back. His thin pajamas strained as his arm muscles bulged with veins, mustering upward force to keep from tumbling embarrassingly into Zhou Jinsheng’s arms.

Zhou Jinsheng’s expression didn’t change.

But his palm clamped Shen Yu’s waist like an iron vise, pressing down relentlessly to halt his escape.

The man’s palm was already warmer than average body temperature. The heat seeping through the thin pajamas against Shen Yu’s spine and skin was impossible to ignore—even the texture felt perceptible.

Zhou Jinsheng’s contradictory behavior made Shen Yu laugh in frustration.

He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth. “Zhou Jinsheng, if you want me gone, mind letting go of my waist?”

Zhou Jinsheng’s gaze swept over, sharp and cold.

Shen Yu glared right back unyieldingly. Fuck, it’s not like you’re the only one who can glare!

Zhou Jinsheng’s lips twitched faintly.

“Not talking to you.”

Shen Yu blinked, then instinctively turned to Song Shi.

Their eyes met, both a bit stunned.

Song Shi’s perpetually stoic ice-block face showed no extra expression, but Shen Yu swore he saw a flicker of existential doubt in those eyes. Face wooden, Song Shi paused one second, then turned crisply and left, closing the door behind him without a sound.

Suddenly, the vast study held only the two of them.

Without Song Shi to share the tension, it felt even harder to bear for Shen Yu.

Especially at his lower back, where Zhou Jinsheng’s hand had slipped under the pajama hem, long fingers idly stroking the skin along his spine. The pads burned hot, probing his sensitive spots.

“Zhou Jinsheng—”

Those fingers were like a freshly forged blazing blade.

The knife sliced downward along his spine with scorching heat and flame. Shen Yu’s waist jerked, his whole body snapping straight. He’d never eaten pork, but he’d seen pigs run.

Heat crept into Shen Yu’s face. How could he not get Zhou Jinsheng’s intent?

Straight to the main event this quick?

The fingers tugged at his pajama pants’ waistband. Shen Yu jolted, inwardly cursing up a storm. Without thinking, he grabbed Zhou Jinsheng’s hand to stop it going lower.

The air stilled.

Zhou Jinsheng lifted his eyelids, looking at him.

In that instant of eye contact, a shiver crawled over Shen Yu’s scalp.

The clock hands ticked onward. Shen Yu knew he’d fucked up. The next moment, the tables turned—Zhou Jinsheng seized his hand in return and shoved him down onto the sofa.

Shen Yu reflexively drove his knee up toward Zhou Jinsheng’s abdomen.

Zhou Jinsheng’s brows furrowed, as if pain meant nothing. His fingers clamped Shen Yu’s jaw like iron tongs.

Cheeks and bones crushed in the vise grip, Shen Yu’s back pinned to the sofa, forced into a recline. The space was cramped and tight, their breaths mingling with the heavy, chilling cigar scent from Zhou Jinsheng. The overhead light was blocked by the man’s broad back.

Shen Yu’s wrists pinned to the sofa, he strained his neck to look up.

In the play of light and shadow, Zhou Jinsheng’s features sharpened to knife edges, his cold indifference like unyielding sculpture—no trace of human softness.

And yet, such a mild, humble name.

Shen Yu thought.

Zhou Jinsheng had no idea what was in his head. No smile crossed his face—or rather, no expression at all. He raised a finger, thumb stroking Shen Yu’s jawline with deceptive leisure laced with threat, a low growl rumbling from his throat, pure alpha warning: “Shen Yu, don’t provoke me.”

“I’ll play however I want—that’s what you said yourself—”

Even as his mind raced, Shen Yu held his defensive stance, back rigid, knee wedged between them—until his gaze caught a fleeting oddity on Zhou Jinsheng’s face.

Fuck, forgot about his stomach issue.

Realizing that, Shen Yu awkwardly shifted his knee away—only to hear his own words thrown back at him.

The pressure on his abdomen eased abruptly, cutting Zhou Jinsheng off mid-sentence.

He lowered his eyes, grip tightening, gaze trailing down through the dim light, silently fixing on Shen Yu.

Unclear if the light was softer or colder. The man sunk into the sofa was young and handsome, black hair against snow-pale skin, lean muscles peeking from loose pajamas.

This youthful body held formidable power, yet those peach-blossom eyes brimmed with innocence and pitiful allure—like it was born to be fucked to death by him.