Chapter 8

Hearing the message notification sound, Chi Xianli woke up from his drunken stupor. He had finally been unbanned yesterday and spent the whole day drinking and partying wildly at the club, only collapsing into deep sleep in the morning.

Chi Xianli pushed away the woman’s soft, pale arm and picked up his phone from the bedside table to check. One look and he didn’t know; a second look and he jumped in shock.

Young Master Zhou’s messages were entirely in a commanding tone—precious indeed, three messages in a row.

[Find some people. Hands itching.]

[Make it quick.]

Holding his phone and staring at the screen, Chi Xianli digested the content for a long while before blinking. His foggy brain cleared up considerably.

Only a few people knew that a wild beast was locked inside Zhou Jinsheng’s body.

Chi Xianli had always been a reckless troublemaker, fearless of heaven and earth, but Zhou Jinsheng was the only one who had ever beaten him into submission.

However, as the years passed, people started acting more and more like proper humans. Like a young beast in an unfamiliar environment instinctively observing and imitating its surroundings, Zhou Jinsheng had gradually donned a layer of disguise, only occasionally revealing his ferocity.

If he remembered correctly, Zhou Jinsheng hadn’t personally gotten his hands dirty in a long time.

The last time…

The last time, what was it?

Fuck!

Recalling some scene, Chi Xianli scratched his head, a bad premonition surging in his heart. If Zhou Jinsheng wasn’t planning to keep up the act—

Then no one else would get to live comfortably either.

Chi Xianli was genuinely afraid of Zhou Jinsheng causing some real trouble.

If that happened, no one would have a good time, and he’d probably have to go plead guilty to Old Master Zhou with a bundle of thorny vines on his back.

Chi Xianli always felt this had something to do with that guy named Yu whom Zhou Jinsheng had mentioned, but right now, the priority was handling Zhou Jinsheng to avoid him showing up at his door and turning him into a punching bag. He couldn’t compare to Zhou Jinsheng’s solid slab of muscle.

The warm, soft beauty in his arms rolled over, smoothly burrowing back into Chi Xianli’s embrace.

Chi Xianli released his lover, sat on the edge of the bed, lit a cigarette while making a call. He offered a high price to a boxing coach to send over some tough guys who could both dish it out and take it to keep an eye on Zhou Jinsheng.

After arranging it, with his hands idle, Chi Xianli sent Zhou Jinsheng a voice message: “Got some people for you. Check them out~”

Chi Xianli took a drag from his cigarette, pondered for a moment, then added heartlessly, “Go easy on them. Don’t beat them into useless trash. They can be reused.”

Shen Yu packed up his things and headed to the subway station with his backpack.

The apartment he rented was neither too close nor too far from Jingyang, near a commercial district full of everyday bustle. It was just two or three subway stops away; sometimes Shen Yu would stroll back, passing various food stalls along the way, perfectly sated.

A stream of luxury cars was parked at the school gate. With no evening self-study, as soon as the bell rang, students in Western-style black-and-white uniforms poured out from different school gates.

So when he spotted a familiar figure in the crowd, Shen Yu was so shocked he nearly choked on the fish ball in his mouth.

Shen Yu had only noticed the school uniform at first, but the more he looked, the more familiar it seemed. As night fell, Zhou Jinsheng—dressed in a white shirt and long pants—wove through the blaring car horns and the crowd across the central square, heading toward the back alley behind a towering skyscraper.

Shen Yu had seen Zhou Jinsheng’s powerfully fluid muscles just that afternoon, so seeing him suddenly in a school uniform now gave off a bizarre sense of a suited thug.

It would probably look even more like it with the school jacket on—and even more like that decisive, ruthless man from eight years in the future.

Shen Yu finished his midnight snack and saw Zhou Jinsheng turn a corner, vanishing from sight.

Shen Yu hurried after him with his plastic bag in hand. Before he even entered the alley, he heard intense clanging and crashing sounds of fighting, interspersed with continuous grunts and curses.

In the narrow back alley, four burly, bear-like men were attacking Zhou Jinsheng.

A tattooed thug roared and swung a fist at Zhou Jinsheng, only for his wrist to be grabbed.

Zhou Jinsheng swept out with a long leg, sending the man flying to the ground. The other two exchanged a glance, realizing Zhou Jinsheng was no pushover. Ignoring any code of one-on-one honor, they quickly flanked him, aiming to strike first.

The scene shifted in an instant, the atmosphere tense.

Punches, impacts, breaths—all wove together.

007, slightly excited: 【Maybe it’s time for the host to play the hero saving the beauty?】

Zhou Jinsheng moved with extreme speed and precision, kicking the two men down and pinning them underfoot in an instant. Then he flipped the tattooed leader onto the ground. The leader’s face twisted ferociously, his back arching as he let out a pained howl from his mouth.

The man and system fell instantly silent.

Shen Yu voiced his sincere question: 【…Save these three?】

Before Shen Yu could think further, the bald guy—who had just been sprawled on the ground—suddenly grabbed a stick nearby, scrambled up, and lunged at Zhou Jinsheng’s back.

“Zhou Jinsheng—”

Shen Yu noticed the movement and timed it perfectly, worried that if he was even a second late, Zhou Jinsheng would dodge on his own. He rushed forward and raised his arm—

The stick whistled through the air, clanging hard against his arm.

Shen Yu staggered uncontrollably, quickly steadying himself against the wall.

This time, it wasn’t faked—he was really hurt.

Zhou Jinsheng whipped around at the sound, his gaze landing on Shen Yu before quickly shifting away. His eyes turned icy cold as he flashed forward, driving a heavy knee into the bald guy’s kneecap and slamming him viciously to the ground.

Zhou Jinsheng sneered, bending his long leg to straddle the man on both sides. He yanked the man up by his collar with one hand, clenched the other into a fist, and unleashed punch after punch—whistling with fierce wind—mercilessly smashing into the head, nose bridge, abdomen—

Each punch landed solidly on flesh, making Shen Yu’s scalp tingle.

The bald guy was beaten black and blue. He felt his organs compressing in his gut, his brain rattling nonstop.

Deep fear showed in his eyes, tears streaming endlessly as the man wailed miserably: “Aah—Big Bro, Big Bro, I fucking messed up! Please, please spare me—”

Zhou Jinsheng’s movements paused.

The bald guy’s eyes lit up. Just as he thought there was hope, he suddenly heard a very soft laugh.

Then, his head was yanked brutally into the air before being smashed repeatedly into the ground!

“Aaah—”

Zhou Jinsheng’s actions grew more savage, more ruthless, the arcs bigger and bigger. Just as another ferocious blow was about to land, Shen Yu frowned and raised his voice:

“Zhou Jinsheng—”

The hand gripping the man’s hair, dangling him in midair, froze abruptly.

In the shadows, Shen Yu could only make out the outline of Zhou Jinsheng’s profile, his arm muscles taut, exuding a crazily eerie calm.

A moment later, Zhou Jinsheng scoffed and disdainfully flung the man’s head away.

Zhou Jinsheng stood up from the ground, straightened his waist, and subtly rubbed his fingers along the seam of his trousers.

The violent impulse rampaged through his heart like an out-of-control beast. His thumb twitched uncontrollably. Zhou Jinsheng raised his hand, casually loosening his tie and lifting his eyelids to look at Shen Yu: “What?”

Shen Yu hesitated slightly: “You… you okay?”

Zhou Jinsheng reverted to that slow, composed elegance. He lowered his head to twist his wrist, rebuttoned his shirt, and said, “I’m fine.”

Zhou Jinsheng finished buttoning up, brushed off his sleeves, and turned to walk out of the alley.

Halfway there, he realized Shen Yu wasn’t following.

Zhou Jinsheng stopped, suddenly remembering their currently strained relationship.

The young man furrowed his brows and turned back, his gaze like two clusters of cold, wild flames tearing through the night.

“Not coming?”

Shen Yu had no choice but to stand and follow behind Zhou Jinsheng, head lowered.

In the dim alley, the thugs lay sprawled haphazardly at the far end in the corner. The two youths walked forward in silence, one after the other.

Emerging from the back alley, the roar of traffic and clamor of crowds hit them. Streetlights with double arms stood in rows along the sides, glowing with sodium light like living things.

Shen Yu lowered his eyes, the lamplight stretching obliquely to his feet.

In his view, Zhou Jinsheng had one hand tucked into his trouser pocket, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal solid, powerful forearms. On his wrist was a black-silver mechanical watch with an open-face design, showcasing the intricate gears and winding mechanism.

Looked like it could fetch a good price.

Shen Yu’s fingers twitched restlessly. Amid his internal struggle, he heard Zhou Jinsheng’s voice.

“If you don’t know how to fight, don’t fight.”

The words bounced around in Shen Yu’s head several times before processing. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then lowered his gaze: “Yeah, sorry for the trouble. My bad.”

The sentence was distant and stiff.

He had just been concerned a moment ago, but now his attitude had turned abruptly cold.

Zhou Jinsheng’s brow twitched. His hand delved into his pocket but found no cigarettes.

Shen Yu’s skin was a cool-toned white, his long lashes like fine ink brush strokes—skin cool, expression cooler.

Zhou Jinsheng tilted his head and saw the scene.

The alley corner featured one of the Minhe Pharmacies ubiquitous in the capital, its white clerical sign on a green background. Shen Yu sat on the flower bed opposite, watching through the sliding glass door as Zhou Jinsheng pushed it open and entered.

Zhou Jinsheng entered familiarly, bought iodine solution, bruise-relief spray, and bruise patches, bagged them in transparent plastic, and paid at the counter.

Zhou Jinsheng walked up to Shen Yu with the bag. His eyelids drooped, his narrow, double-lidded eyes deepening, veiling the emotions in them.

“Roll up your sleeve.”

Shen Yu, head still down, heard Zhou Jinsheng’s cold voice.

Shen Yu looked up, surprised at first, then remembered what had happened at school earlier.

Shen Yu’s expression cooled too, and the two stared like they were competing in a “who’s more aloof” contest, faces blanker than the other’s.

The swelling pain spread across his arm.

Shen Yu’s face stiffened. He reached out, tone rigid: “I can do it myself.”

Zhou Jinsheng said nothing, lifting his arm with a clink-clink of bottles colliding, dodging Shen Yu’s attempt to grab the medicine.

Shen Yu’s fingers swiped but missed.

Zhou Jinsheng repeated: “Roll it up.”

They stalemated for a moment.

Finally, Shen Yu conceded. Under Zhou Jinsheng’s gaze, he grudgingly unbuttoned his shirt cuff and rolled up the sleeve, exposing a section of milky-white arm.

Zhou Jinsheng looked over.

The skin on the arm was fair as jade fat, a three-finger-wide bruise stark against it, all the more shocking.

Amid the blue-white contrast, it evoked a sense of abusive beauty.

Zhou Jinsheng’s gaze sharpened.

He couldn’t help cursing inwardly.

Zhou Jinsheng averted his eyes, slammed the medicine bag onto the flower bed, grabbed the bruise spray, hesitated briefly, then deigned to press his fingers to the bruise and rub it in.

The medicine spread coolly over the bruise.

Shen Yu’s fingers clenched tightly on the hem of his shirt. Zhou Jinsheng’s fingers paused.

Shen Yu noticed and immediately denied: “Doesn’t hurt.”

Zhou Jinsheng lightened his touch instantly, leaning in closer to Shen Yu.

The sky was steeped in smoky blue, moonlight flowing like water, tree branches rustling in the night breeze.

Zhou Jinsheng’s face suddenly loomed hugely before Shen Yu, his narrow eyes lowered, dark misty depths gazing at him, a clear chill spilling from the sidelong glance.

Body heat and breath tangled and rose in the narrow space.

The breath brushed his neck, bringing an uncomfortable itch as Zhou Jinsheng leaned in, making Shen Yu frown involuntarily.

Shen Yu’s gaze flickered, unsure what he was doing. Following Zhou Jinsheng’s line of sight, he realized the hem he’d been clutching wasn’t his own shirt tail—but Zhou Jinsheng’s.

The tall youth’s frame loomed over Shen Yu, his post-exercise body radiating vigorous heat.

The school uniform was pulled taut forward, his powerful waist tense.

007 repeated: 【Doesn’t hurt.】

Shen Yu: “……”

Didn’t he need any face?

He hurriedly let go.

That instant’s breath was like winter’s white exhale—vanishing in a puff before it could rise.

Zhou Jinsheng lowered his eyes, seemingly oblivious to the reaction, giving Shen Yu zero acknowledgment. Yet Shen Yu found this silence from Zhou Jinsheng gave him an immense sense of security.

It had to be said: though Zhou Jinsheng’s unpredictable temper greatly increased the difficulty of building favor, at this moment, it perfectly preserved Shen Yu’s precarious image of majestic iron-blooded resolve!

007: 【……】

Zhou Jinsheng took a bruise patch from the plastic bag, tore open the packaging neatly with his teeth, pulled over Shen Yu’s wrist, and applied it swiftly.

The edges of the patch curled up slightly. Zhou Jinsheng withdrew his hand and glanced over: “Handle the rest yourself.”

Shen Yu blinked, nodded: “Oh, okay.”

Zhou Jinsheng stood up.

Moonlight fell, landing on his broad shoulders. Shen Yu looked down to find he was stepping on Zhou Jinsheng’s shadow.

Zhou Jinsheng walked to the street side and answered a call.

A while later, not far off, a Maybach drove down the street. It slowed to a stop under the glow of a sodium streetlamp.

The driver, Old Li, got out and opened the car door for Zhou Jinsheng.

Zhou Jinsheng bent down to get in. Outside the window, traffic flowed densely, with blurry figures rapidly flashing past. The figures in the rearview mirror gradually shrank into vague dots before finally vanishing.

Zhou Jinsheng lowered his gaze, his eyes falling on the hem of his school uniform—the corner Shen Yu had just grabbed and crumpled. For some reason, Chi Xianli’s joking words from back then suddenly echoed in his ears.

“What if they’re after our Young Master Zhou’s looks?”

Zhou Jinsheng’s expression gradually turned strange.

So… it was after his looks?