Chapter 138: As You Command, Princess

Zhou Yili leaned lazily against Shen Jixing’s shoulder.

"He didn't bully me; it was all my fault~"

"..."

The air in the room suddenly grew thick with an overwhelming sense of artifice.

Even Shen Jixing was strangely silent: "..."

The manager seemed to be seeing Zhou Yili for the first time, covering his weary face, unsure of who he was feeling more embarrassed for.

*At least look at the difference in your builds before acting like that!*

*It’s an eyesore!*

After hearing the translator’s vivid interpretation, Mars pointed at Zhou Yili, his gray eyes reddening with fury: "You... you bad person!"

Zhou Yili raised an eyebrow at him.

Look at that—what a pure, useless insult.

Shortly after, his head was pushed away by Shen Jixing.

For the first time, Zhou Yili’s "fragile flower" act had crashed and burned. He clicked his tongue, his tongue pressing lightly against the roof of his mouth, before his tousled, slightly curly blue hair was ruffled.

Shen Jixing said to him, "It has nothing to do with you. Continue the rehearsal."

Those cold, aloof eyes seemed to soften only for him, if just for a moment.

When they turned back to Mars, they returned to the dead of winter.

"Come out with me."

Mars, who had been about to throw a tantrum, immediately quieted down. With his tail between his legs, he followed sheepishly behind him, calling out in a small, timid voice, "Brother."

Staff members were coming and going backstage.

Shen Jixing didn't know the people in Zhou Yili’s team, but they seemed quite familiar with him.

It wasn't until they reached an empty lounge that Shen Jixing spoke: "I am not your brother."

His tone was naturally arrogant and cold. Even though Zhou Yili was the closest to him, he would occasionally be stung by it, let alone this young brat.

Mars’s eyes reddened instantly. "I'm sorry. Are you still angry with me?"

The translator poured tea for both of them.

Wreaths of steam rose between the two, blurring the memories that drifted along with them.

"...Who is he?"

Shen Jixing had been curled up on the rug in the corner of the sofa reading a book when he heard the childish voice. He lifted his gaze to meet a pair of scrutinizing gray eyes.

The Herberts’ expressions stiffened.

They tried their best to use gentle words to comfort the child they had finally recovered.

In return, Mars burst into hysterical tears: "I don't want a brother. I don't have a brother. Did you bring him here on purpose because you didn't want me? I don't like him, make him leave!"

The scene was chaotic.

There was the boy’s high-pitched wailing, the frantic voices of the maids, and the gentle, soothing tones of the couple.

Shen Jixing sat in the corner of the sofa by the fireplace, quiet and motionless.

This wasn't where he usually sat.

He had been trying very hard to make himself smaller.

He hadn't intended to occupy any space; he only wanted a corner in this warm house that could hold him.

But then he met the gaze the Herberts accidentally cast his way.

In those previously gentle and charitable eyes, there was now a hint of resistance and distance. Shen Jixing said nothing and slowly closed his book.

"Nova... is there anywhere you’d like to go recently? Perhaps the Great Magician’s circus, or the winter camp on the snowy mountain? You’ve always been timid; it seems you haven't been out to play at all since you arrived?"

Mrs. Herbert looked at him with the gentlest of expressions.

Shen Jixing lifted his eyes and smiled: "No, thank you. I’m going back to my country."

Mrs. Herbert’s expression froze as she suddenly remembered something she had glanced at but ignored when he first arrived.

It was a neatly packed small bundle on the low table.

"..."

"Brother." Mars’s voice broke the memory.

He reached out cautiously, trying to take Shen Jixing’s hand, but Shen Jixing moved it away ever so slightly.

He replaced it with a cup of warm tea, pressing it gently against his palm.

"I was too young back then. You can't expect me to have learned how to be sensible at that age; I was just subconsciously acting in a way that fit my age."

Mars’s words were consistent with the personality he had grown into.

Shen Jixing met his gray-red eyes and asked calmly, "Then why now?"

Mars said, "Now I’m grown up. I know I hurt you, and I want to make it up to you."

Those hands held the teacup gently, his gray eyes filled with a warm, reddish hue.

"I want to be family with you, too."

This thought hadn't just appeared today, but Shen Jixing had never paid him any mind, and his contact with the Herberts was minimal.

Shen Jixing blew lightly on the steam, his calm and elegant tone like the tea fragrance lingering at the tip of one's nose. "I’ve heard that artists share a common trait: they are sensitive and possess vivid imaginations. In the process of perceiving art, they often look back on their psychological space and emotional logic."

"Are you stuck in a creative rut?"

The translator’s moment of trial had arrived.

After the sweating translator finished conveying this to Mars, Mars immediately said, "No, that’s not it."

Shen Jixing, unhurried, followed up with a question: "Or are you trying to rectify a logical error that has already occurred?"

Mars looked at him, aggrieved again. "I just realized I did something wrong."

But there was no denying that he was an artist, which was why he remained troubled by this; only by clearing away his psychological resentment could he create better work.

There was another reason, too.

Shen Jixing perfectly matched his aesthetic for Eastern attire.

He wanted to be family with someone as excellent as him; he wanted to be his younger brother.

But Shen Jixing refused him. "You are still too young. Sometimes, resentment doesn't necessarily need to be completely erased."

Even if he stood there like a thorn.

Mars said, "But you hate me because I once hurt you."

"I don't hate you."

Shen Jixing’s tone was tranquil. "I have never hated you, child. Once you have made a decision that satisfies yourself, it doesn't matter how others judge it as right or wrong."

Mars stared at him blankly, his gray eyes watery and filled with growing adoration.

"Then why can't we be family... You’re just saying nice things to me."

He hated himself for being too young to know what was valuable.

Otherwise, if he had had Shen Jixing as a brother, what a happy little boy he would have been.

Shen Jixing seemed to find this amusing. "I never say nice things to anyone. I refused you simply because—"

"I already have a home."

...

Shen Jixing emerged from the lounge.

He was met by the sight of the young dandy leaning lazily against the wall, carelessly scrolling through his phone as if he hadn't heard a thing, though the smile on the corners of his lips could not be suppressed.

Shen Jixing said calmly, "Rehearsal over?"

"Yeah." Zhou Yili reached out and pulled him into his arms, his tone ambiguous and languid. "Who do you have a home with?"

Zhou Yili’s tail was practically wagging.

Shen Jixing said, "It’s certainly not you."

He then strode forward, the stray stars on his shoulders shimmering and swaying. Zhou Yili froze for two seconds before chasing after the cold, unreachable beauty.

"If it’s not me, then who could it be?!"

Zhou Yili’s expression shifted, and he asked fiercely, "You were blowing bubbles in my arms this morning, and now you’re turning your back on me? Tell me, who is it?"

Shen Jixing sometimes felt that he was truly annoying.

His tone was indifferent yet amused. "How many times do you want me to answer you?"

"Besides you, who else is there?"

"..."

Just as Zhou Yili’s eyebrows arched in satisfaction, the lounge door behind them swung open with a bang: "Me too!!!"

The persistent little foreign brat chased after them.

"I don't care. You didn't hate me even when I was so bad, so you must like me."

"I want to join you guys and be a family!!!"

Zhou Yili thought, *You’re still at it, aren't you?* He was rolling up his sleeves, ready to deal with him, when his hanging fingertips were gently pinched.

Shen Jixing took the initiative to interlock his fingers with his. "Run."

A unique way to resolve a conflict.

The outcome was—

Zhou Yili scooped him up in his arms and strode through the concert’s backstage corridor, his reckless voice wrapped in laughter and the wind.

"As you wish, Princess."