Chapter 27 Part 1

When Song Shi came in, he saw this exact scene. Even though he always stuck to his duties and never meddled in anything outside of work, he couldn’t help silently lighting a candle for Shen Yu in his heart.

Back when Old Master Zhou had trained him, Song Shi had fantasized about learning all sorts of Zhou Corporation business secrets and keeping them sealed tight, becoming the most silent shadow. But he really hadn’t expected that he’d also have to guard something like this earth-shattering gossip.

This was way harder to keep under wraps than any business secrets.

Sometimes Song Shi even suspected he’d be stifled to death, but thinking that others were holding in the same secret made it a bit more bearable.

He took a few steps forward and gave his low report to Zhou Jinsheng.

By the time Shen Yu snapped back to his senses, Zhou Jinsheng was no longer at the shooting range.

In his place stood a familiar middle-aged man in camouflage gear, Old Li.

Though Shen Yu was a total beginner, his accuracy was shockingly good. The centers of all a dozen targets across from him had been shot clean through. Old Li had been sent by the BOSS to teach Shen Yu how to shoot and had felt a bit disdainful at first, but after seeing Shen Yu’s results, his attitude gradually shifted.

This kid’s got some real talent.

After the shooting session ended, Shen Yu sneaked a glance at Old Li.

He rubbed his sore wrist and casually walked toward the exit of the range. But before he could take half a step out, an arm stretched out and firmly blocked his path.

Old Li expressionlessly extended his other hand. The scars snaking across it looked hideous and terrifying as he held it out toward Shen Yu.

Shen Yu looked down.

The hand in front of him spread its five fingers. Noticing his gaze, it curled its fingers back in a beckoning gesture.

Shen Yu: “…”

Shen Yu silently raised his hand and handed the gun back properly.

Before Zhou Jinsheng returned, Shen Yu had been running between the company and the set. After Zhou Jinsheng came back, even though he wasn’t often at Zhou Mansion, Shen Yu’s schedule still shifted under Old Li’s “companionship” to three places: Zhou Mansion, the company, and the set.

Though there was a slight deviation, the plot had finally gotten back on track, greatly reducing the risk of being noticed by the Heavenly Dao.

However, progress on building favor had stalled.

Shen Yu had sensed the subtle power of the Heavenly Dao twice in total. The first time was eight years ago, and the second was just a few days ago. Both instances had happened in ways he hadn’t anticipated, so he couldn’t pinpoint any common factors.

No common factors? Then he’d just have to experiment more. Shen Yu immediately settled on a plan.

And so Zhou Jinsheng noticed that every time he came out after washing his hair, Shen Yu would be holding a hairdryer, very proactively offering to blow-dry it for him.

After it happened a few times, Zhou Jinsheng’s gaze toward him grew increasingly subtle.

After even more times, it turned into a daily routine. The wall slam, takedown, and forceful kiss could be skipped, but blow-drying hair could not.

Song Shi, who had watched the domineering conquest script veer further and further toward a pure romance, finally couldn’t hold back his curiosity. One time when Zhou Jinsheng wasn’t around, he bro-like bumped Shen Yu’s shoulder and gossiped, “Do you have a hair fetish or something?”

Shen Yu: “…”

He really didn’t.

Afterward, Shen Yu didn’t see Song Shi for several days. Chen Jinyang said Zhou Jinsheng had sent him to Africa for a stint in the sun, and he’d only just returned.

That day, Zhou Jinsheng had an evening banquet in the evening, which happened to coincide with Shen Yu’s final scene, so he hadn’t planned to go together.

After sending Zhou Jinsheng a message from the set and removing his makeup, Shen Yu was sprayed head to toe with confetti poppers and ribbons by a group of people who had been waiting.

His guest role wasn’t extensive, and he’d already shot the last scene that day. He hadn’t expected the usually stingy He Qian to specially prepare a wrap party for him, but Shen Yu quickly realized what was up—using his money for the wrap party meant they were openly planning to fleece him.

The wrap party was set at a club near Jingyang. Neon lights wove through the air. To create a visual light effect, the staff had specially sprinkled water on the ground, where the lights reflected to paint a hallucinatory scene of glitzy revelry.

The group ate a lively round of food, got hyped on carbs, and then headed upstairs to sing karaoke, looking ready to party all night. Surprisingly, He Qian, who always rushed the set schedule, didn’t stop them.

Shen Yu had planned to leave, but since the wrap party was nominally for him, it wouldn’t be polite to bail early.

So Shen Yu got dragged upstairs by He Qian, who hooked an arm around his shoulders.

The group started off a bit reserved but got drunker and rowdier, fighting over the mic and howling like ghosts and wolves. Under the guise of singing, they snuck in personal digs, venting their pent-up resentment from being brutally critiqued by the cold-hearted Director He.

He Qian downed several bottles too and, upon hearing the lyrics, flushed red and told them to scram.

Compared to the raucous energy over there, things were much quieter on Shen Yu’s side. Yu Tingsi sat next to him with arms crossed, watching the drunken crowd in the booze pit with an impassive expression.

Shen Yu raised a brow. Weren’t the protagonist gong and shou a bit too far apart? How come there wasn’t even a spark of chemistry between them?

Maybe the time wasn’t right yet?

But it didn’t really concern Shen Yu anyway. Plot deviations affected him, but not much. He just needed to complete his personal line without alerting the World Will.

Yu Tingsi hadn’t touched the liquor in front of him. Under the hazy lights, the liquid looked like a shrunken sea, rippling faintly.

Shen Yu glanced up, his face expressionless. “Not drinking?”

Yu Tingsi paused. The colorful emotions in his eyes boiled like overheated liquid for an instant before cooling bit by bit into calm.

He used to love drinking, always thinking each kind of booze had its own unique flavor. That’s why, in his youth, he’d especially favored strong liquor.

But it wasn’t until the Yu Family fell from power that he realized just how awful booze could taste.

The young master of the Yu Family without his clan’s backing was nothing but a stray dog, spat on by anyone. Those fair-weather friends who’d once clung to him—he’d helped them so much, given them so many resources—wouldn’t even see him at the end.

The once-glorious, arrogant youth stuck to them like a plaster, going door to door begging, downing bottle after bottle. He knew they just wanted to see him make a fool of himself. Everyone loves watching someone fall from a height—the harder the crash, the more dramatic, the more entertaining.

But Yu Tingsi didn’t care. Insult him, mock him, torment him—he didn’t mind. He just wanted to see his big brother one last time.

“Drink this.”

Shen Yu pushed a glass of juice toward him.

Yu Tingsi didn’t know what crossed his mind, but a mocking smile tugged at his sharp lips. “No need to butter me up.”

Shen Yu raised a brow. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Just then, someone intruded into their two-person corner.

A shadow loomed overhead. Shen Yu looked up.

Zhang Miaomiao wore a little white dress, clutching a beer bottle to her chest like a squirrel hugging a pine cone. She’d clearly drunk plenty with the “He Qian Victims’ Alliance,” her cheeks flushed red.

She had striking features and was tall, with an aggressively alluring beauty, but her personality was adorably cute. Before every take, He Qian would nag her endlessly not to smile, or it’d ruin the scene.

Zhang Miaomiao stared straight at him and mustered her courage. “President Shen, c-can I talk to you alone?”

Shen Yu was a bit surprised and set down his glass as he leaned forward.

“Of course. Shall we step out?”

Shen Yu stood from his seat and gestured lightly for her to lead.

Zhang Miaomiao nodded.

The two walked out of the private room one after the other. After the movie released, Zhang Miaomiao would get unprecedented attention and buzz. A man and woman alone, investor and actress—if they really secluded themselves, it’d be hard to clear up the rumors and it’d ruin the girl’s reputation. After all, even he and He Qian the dog could spark dating scandals.

After some thought, Shen Yu led Zhang Miaomiao down the hallway.

At the club entrance stood a massive potted bamboo plant, tall and lush, perfectly blocking prying eyes while signaling their innocence.

Buoyed by the alcohol, Zhang Miaomiao clung tightly to her bottle, no beating around the bush. Her voice was slurry, but her words cut straight to the chase. “Shen Yu, I want to be your… girlfriend!”

“Don’t worry, I’m not after your money. I’ll earn tons of it myself later, and then…”

Shen Yu was amused by the boldest confession he’d ever heard and played along. “And then?”

Zhang Miaomiao’s drunken eyes blinked hazily. Her face red, she let out a boozy belch. Her unsteady body swayed, her head lolled, but her voice rang firmer than anyone’s.

She thumped her chest grandly. “Then, President Shen, I’ll take care of you!”

“…”

Leaving aside that nothing was set in stone yet, why did everyone want to be his sugar daddy? He admitted Zhang Miaomiao was beautiful with a sweet voice, but this little minx wasn’t as rich as him and still dared propose supporting him?

Talk about bold!

No money, no nookie!

Shen Yu chuckled inwardly and gentlemanly steadied her waist as she nearly toppled. “You’re drunk. I—”

Zhang Miaomiao couldn’t make out what Shen Yu was saying. From her angle, she only saw those full, shapely lips parting and closing, the pointed pink tip of his tongue teasingly darting in and out—looking irresistibly sweet and tempting her to no end.

Her inner urges flared. In a haze of lust and boldness, she tiptoed up to kiss Shen Yu.

Shen Yu hadn’t expected Zhang Miaomiao to double down on daring. He instinctively turned his head.

The woman’s soft red lips brushed his jawline, like supple willow fluff grazing the pale skin there, carrying a warm, sweet fragrance.

Shen Yu dodged the kiss, and his gaze followed the motion.

Through the long, broad leaves of the ornamental bamboo, Shen Yu unexpectedly locked eyes with a pair as deep as still water.

It was hard to describe Zhou Jinsheng’s expression right now.

Too calm—like a thick, eerie night sea.