Chapter 30

Zhou Jinsheng lowered his gaze, his palm sliding down the trembling line of the small abdomen.

Beyond the floral scent, there was also the smell of cigars on the man’s body, mixed with a woody aroma, like a forceful yet gentle blade that split Shen Yu in two. When he realized what Zhou Jinsheng was doing, Shen Yu’s mind went blank.

His tense back slammed fiercely against the wooden door with a thud. The butler’s voice came from inside: “Mr. Shen? Do you need me to open the door for you?”

Zhou Jinsheng stared fixedly at him, his gaze enveloping the man like a black mist. Suddenly, he gripped him tightly.

Shen Yu pressed his lips together, his distinct knuckles clutching the door handle firmly. The muscles in his arm tensed beneath the fabric of his clothes. In his mind, he cursed Zhou Jinsheng’s wicked sense of humor, though he was also somewhat thrilled by it. Beneath his fan-shaped long lashes, his eyes welled up with misty lines like teardrops.

His eyes red, he glared at Zhou Jinsheng and controlled his tone as he called inside: “No need.”

The servants of Zhou Mansion were well-trained and would never disobey orders under any circumstances, but the current situation left no room for Shen Yu to think. His fingers had been gripping the door handle without letting go.

A flush crept up his cheeks. Shen Yu tilted his head back, his pale, slender neck arching in a near-death curve, the back of his head pressed hard against the door.

Scorching breaths sprayed against his ear. Shen Yu’s gaze grew hazy, his petal-like red lips parting slightly as he let out a gasp.

Begonia flowers floated like clouds and mist. Seeing his reaction, Zhou Jinsheng suddenly felt as if these flowers had quietly bloomed overnight.

He wanted to see more.

The man lowered his eyes, his strong hand gripping Shen Yu’s slim waist. His body sank down, knees bending as he squatted.

…

Shen Yu’s eyes widened instantly.

…

The man was very satisfied with his reaction. He hooked his lips slightly, stood up, and let out a low, pleased chuckle, only for Shen Yu to launch a fist at him.

This punch was merciless, fast and fierce. Zhou Jinsheng didn’t dodge; his shoulder took the hit squarely, swaying slightly. The drooping begonias on his head shook too, scattering petals. One petal happened to land right on Shen Yu’s eye.

Shen Yu blinked it away, feeling a bit itchy.

A shadow loomed over. Zhou Jinsheng’s face drew close again, and he grabbed him once more. Shen Yu instinctively tried to dodge, only to hear the man’s threat:

“Believe me when I say I’ll snap you in half.”

Shen Yu: “…”

In his mind, Shen Yu cursed like hell, but his mouth chickened out: “I believe you, I believe you! Go easy.”

A smile tugged at Zhou Jinsheng’s lips. He leaned in and blew gently on Shen Yu’s eyelid.

The hot breath felt like it penetrated straight into his eye, creating a strange piercing sensation. The petal brushed past his distinctly fanned lashes like crow feathers and a sensitive patch of skin at the corner of his eye, drifting into the air.

Shen Yu felt his heart tingle instantly.

The metal chains rattled with a clink.

The flowers shyly drooped their heads, shielding them.

Half an hour later, the wooden door was pushed open.

The two entered one after another through the back door. Sunlight poured in from outside, casting human shadows chasing flower shadows on the ground. Zhou Jinsheng trailed behind Shen Yu and reached out toward him, only to get his hand swatted away. He didn’t get annoyed.

The butler was somewhat surprised. Ever since Zhou Jinsheng was born, he had served the Zhou Corporation. Even after Zhou Jinsheng inherited Zhou Mansion, he hadn’t been dismissed. In a sense, he had watched Zhou Jinsheng grow up.

But he had rarely seen Zhou Jinsheng so vibrant.

Heaven had opened its eyes; the man finally had some life in him.

After lunch, Shen Yu picked up the freshly squeezed lemon juice that was served. Yellow lemons mixed with green kumquats created layers of fragrance stacked like a ladder of clouds. While sipping the lemon juice, Shen Yu pondered.

All in all, nearly two months had passed since he returned to Shangjing. He didn’t have much time left.

On the surface, Zhou Jinsheng’s favor toward him seemed very high, but appearances weren’t reality.

Though the method of building favor had veered off course and the formula was wrong, the result was correct.

From the first time he sensed the Heavenly Dao Power, Shen Yu had a vague notion. If his sense of fulfillment reached its peak, it would signal the time to break free.

So, what he had gained from Zhou Jinsheng so far amounted to perhaps six or seven out of ten?

In the center of the dining table sat a vase holding a few autumn lilies. The tall, wide mouth supported the weight of the flowers, with trimmed stems and leaves about twice the height of the blooms, perfectly blocking half of Zhou Jinsheng’s face.

Shen Yu bit on his straw, lost in thought.

Still a bit short. What was missing?

Shen Yu raised his hand. The shackle on his wrist rose higher than the green stems and leaves.

Zhou Jinsheng looked up.

His palm stretched lazily upward, the shackle dangling downward from his wrist. Noticing the gaze, his middle and index fingers curled into his palm while the other two bent downward, wiggling playfully—like an awkward wave or a fawning smile.

Zhou Jinsheng’s lips curved.

From across the table came the lazy voice of the hand’s owner: “Zhou Jinsheng, I really can’t go out?”

Through the gaps in the stems and flowers, Zhou Jinsheng looked at Shen Yu.

A moment later, that raised hand drooped listlessly, slumping dejectedly onto the edge of the table. Bored, he began counting the wavy patterns on the tabletop.

Zhou Jinsheng parted his lips: “You can.”

He could? Could what?

Shen Yu picked up his lemon juice again. It took him a moment to process, and he blinked belatedly, shock on his face as he looked at Zhou Jinsheng.

Meeting Shen Yu’s gaze, Zhou Jinsheng raised a brow lightly, his tone casual: “Before we get married.”

The sip of lemon water Shen Yu had just taken sprayed right out.

He choked hard, turning aside to brace against the table and cough violently. Water had gone into his windpipe, itchy and uncomfortable.

Ignoring it, Shen Yu called out to 007 in his mind: 【What would happen if I marry him?】

007 hadn’t expected things to develop this way. It furrowed its brows: 【The plotline has collapsed severely, and since this collapsed plotline is closely tied to the Host, it’s very likely to draw the Heavenly Dao’s attention, and then…】

And then?

Then, the Heavenly Dao would come to strangle him.

Fuck.

007 suggested: 【Your contract is only for three months and doesn’t cover this kind of thing.】

Shen Yu lay there like a dead fish stripped of dreams: 【…Do you think Zhou Jinsheng is the type to care about a piece of paper?】

007 thought.

007 fell silent.

007 said nothing.

A hand extended into view, offering a satin-textured handkerchief.

Shen Yu leaned forward and stared intently at the pristine white handkerchief, his mind racing with countermeasures.

Perhaps seeing that Shen Yu hadn’t moved for a long time, Zhou Jinsheng reached out and lightly patted his back.

Shen Yu had already stopped coughing, so the force wasn’t heavy—like a soothing gesture, very gentle, very slow—

Very… terrifying.

As if completely unaware of anything wrong with what he’d said, Zhou Jinsheng pushed the handkerchief forward and asked warmly: “What’s wrong?”

Shen Yu’s lashes trembled. That chilling sensation washed over him again.

He snatched the handkerchief and wiped his mouth, then looked up to glare at Zhou Jinsheng, snapping: “I’m done with you. Zhou Jinsheng, couldn’t you pick a better time to say that shit? You had to wait till I was drinking? Doing it on purpose to laugh at me? When are you gonna fix that wicked sense of humor of yours?”

Zhou Jinsheng’s hand was still on Shen Yu’s back. Hearing this, he raised a brow: “Do I have some wicked sense of humor?”

Shen Yu rolled his eyes and slipped out from under his hand. Zhou Jinsheng reached out but grabbed nothing.

Shen Yu darted away quickly, bounding up the stairs with thudding steps, the chains rattling nonstop.

Once he confirmed he’d reached the safe zone on the second floor, Shen Yu poked his head out, shook his fist at Zhou Jinsheng, and snarled viciously: “Psycho!”

Zhou Jinsheng looked up, narrowing his eyes slightly and fixing him with a death glare.

Shen Yu ducked back his neck, his bravado vanishing in an instant. Realizing his own reaction, he couldn’t hold back a low curse, jerked his head sharply, and vanished from sight.

Zhou Jinsheng’s lips curved. He was in a good mood.

At night, the grand Milky Way flowed across the cloudless sky.

Countless stars twinkled, the brilliant galaxy connecting to the peak of Little Zhou Mountain like a hand extended downward by God.

Zhou Mansion was exceptionally quiet that day.

A serene hush enveloped the estate from all sides, occasionally broken by faint autumn insect chirps that weren’t loud.

Shen Yu wore a loose black sweater, his shoulders and neck snowy white. He lay lazily on a rocking chair on the second-floor balcony, absorbing the moonlight, when he suddenly heard footsteps behind him.

Zhou Jinsheng had received a call that afternoon and left with a darkened face on his private jet. The servants and butler generally wouldn’t approach him uninvited, so no one should be disturbing him at this hour.

Shen Yu frowned and looked back warily: “Who is it?”

A tall, upright male silhouette emerged from the shadows. Under the moonlight and lights, Yu Tingsi’s face appeared—the one that embodied beauty to its fullest.

Shen Yu was surprised: “Yu Tingsi?”

Yu Tingsi sat down in the rattan chair beside him: “Long time no see.”

Shen Yu asked: “How did you get here?”

Yu Tingsi was concise: “Same as last time.”

Last time?

Last time, Yu Tingsi had joined the crew early at Zhou Jinsheng’s behest, just to keep him under watch.

Realizing this, Shen Yu’s mood was indescribable. With him already at Zhou Mansion, Zhou Jinsheng still sent someone to monitor him—talk about paranoia.

Moonlight flowed like water. Shen Yu asked about He Qian’s movie, and Yu Tingsi answered each one. Once the chat wrapped up, with no other topics, they fell into silence, but the atmosphere wasn’t awkward.

Hanging orchids dangled in the air on the balcony, their lively flowers hanging down like ghost claws.

Shen Yu reached out and solemnly shook hands with an orchid flower, as if holding a meeting.

Yu Tingsi’s gaze rested on the distant mountain outlines. Suddenly, he dropped a bombshell: “Shen Yu, I have a key that can unlock your handcuffs.”

Shen Yu’s hand paused. Before he could speak, Yu Tingsi continued: “It’s in my right pants pocket.”

“There’s only one camera from the greenhouse aimed this way.”

“There’s a silenced gun at my lower back.”

After stating this expressionlessly, Yu Tingsi looked deeply at Shen Yu. His lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. He said: “Do you understand?”

Shen Yu froze for a full three seconds. He released his loose grip on the orchid and stared at Yu Tingsi, searching for any sign of a trap, but found none. Shen Yu frowned slightly: “Why are you helping me?”

Yu Tingsi sneered, as if mocking him: “I’m not helping you. I have conditions.”

Shen Yu straightened up from the rocking chair: “What conditions?”

“I won’t go easy. It’s all up to your own skill. If you can’t even subdue me, then even if you escape, Zhou Jinsheng will catch you sooner or later. The outcome won’t be too bad at worst—just imprisoned by him for life.”

“If you do escape.”

Yu Tingsi closed his eyes briefly, his voice hoarse: “Help me look into news about my brother.”

Shen Yu: “Your brother?”

“What, you don’t know? Weren’t you in the same grade back then? I thought you knew.” He paused abruptly, muttering to himself: “Then again, who remembers now.”

Yu Tingsi gave a self-deprecating smile, a touch of desolation in his expression, but it was fleeting like passing light, vanishing into dead silence. He said coldly: “Of course, this isn’t the formal condition. Up to you whether you do it.”

Shen Yu furrowed his brows: “What’s the formal condition?”

“Never come back.”

Confusion flickered in Shen Yu’s eyes.

Yu Tingsi saw it and smiled with a hint of warmth at last: “As long as you don’t come back, Zhou Jinsheng will lose his composure, won’t he?”

Shen Yu frowned. This plot development was way off the rails— the protagonist bottom teaming up with others to take down the villain in the late game, but moved up to now?

Noticing Shen Yu’s expression, Yu Tingsi smirked. Under the pale moonlight, his face looked demonically alluring like a seductive ghost, his voice a devil’s whisper.

“Want to give it a try?”

The words had barely left his mouth when Shen Yu stood up, swinging his long leg mercilessly toward the man’s face.