Chapter 22: Has Someone Bullied You, Shen Jixing?

Zhou Yili stood in place, watching him.

The man sat at the half-open bar counter, dressed in relaxed, pristine white, one leg lightly touching the ground, his entire bearing radiating a cold, noble arrogance. It was as if he wished for the entire world to bow at his feet.

"Who told you I did it to help you?" Zhou Yili retorted with a cold sneer.

Shen Jixing said nothing.

No one would willingly provoke a brand; that was the most foolish way to play the hero. He believed the reason was self-evident. Still, Shen Jixing wanted to know why Zhou Yili had acted this way.

Zhou Yili leaned against the steps, black pajamas falling open in a careless arc, his tone emotionless as he scoffed, "Do you know who YC’s agent in China is?"

"I don’t."

Shen Jixing had never bothered to spare even a sliver of attention for people or things he didn’t care about.

"Alston Milton," Zhou Yili pronounced the English name smoothly. "A forty-year-old little old man with blond hair and blue eyes."

Shen Jixing’s brows flickered slightly, as if to say, forty hardly counts as old, does it?

Zhou Yili went on, "He said he wants to invite me for a romantic discussion on the origin of humanity at three in the morning."

"…"

"I wonder, do I really look that much like I’m gay?"

"…"

"I figured his so-called exploration of humanity’s origins was probably just an excuse to try and start over, so I gave him a free, well-meaning hand."

"…"

Zhou Yili straightened with lazy deliberation, long legs carrying him over, his lean, powerful arm braced on the glass bar, gaze intense and almost predatory.

"Do you understand now?"

It had nothing to do with him. The young master had been annoyed, punished the man, and Shen Jixing had simply benefited in passing.

Shen Jixing replied, "Yes." He turned his eyes away slightly, an uncharacteristic miscalculation, the tips of his ears tinged faintly red. Fortunately, he was always composed, his expression cool and unreadable.

Suddenly, his lowered chin was caught, not too gently but not harshly, forcing him to meet those deep, black eyes.

Zhou Yili’s gaze seemed tinged with exhaustion, but in its depths there was a cold, blood-red glint.

"If you keep looking at me like that, try being narcissistic again and see what happens?"

Shen Jixing frowned slightly, not understanding. "What look?"

Those clear black eyes, as transparent as water over glass, were less than a few centimeters away.

Zhou Yili stared coldly into those beautiful eyes, saying nothing.

The look one gives a dog.

As if he deserved to be toyed with, trampled beneath someone’s feet, the whole world knowing he could never do without him.

"Let go," Shen Jixing said quietly, feeling a touch of pain, reminding him coolly.

The long, heated gaze made him just a little uncomfortable.

Zhou Yili still didn’t move. Shen Jixing lifted his hand and brushed him off; though the movement looked forceful, he hadn’t used much strength to do it.

Shen Jixing stood, about to leave—

"Stop." Zhou Yili called after him. "Are you the only one allowed to ask questions?"

Getting hit on by a foreigner—something like that, the young master clearly wouldn’t tell anyone lightly.

Shen Jixing found himself strangely amused.

"What do you want to ask?"

"You’ll answer anything honestly?" Zhou Yili’s words carried a hint of sarcasm.

This man never spoke the whole truth.

Shen Jixing nodded. "Yes."

But once he gave his word, he never went back on it.

Zhou Yili’s expression quieted somewhat. It wasn’t easy to hear the truth from Shen Jixing; a flood of questions rose to his mind, only to be suppressed by pride.

Pride often drags people off course, making every path more winding.

Zhou Yili idly turned his glass, asking, "Were you really abandoned?"

Shen Jixing paused almost imperceptibly, his lashes casting a soft, graceful curve.

He admitted in a low voice, "Yes."

"Why?"

Zhou Yili fixed his gaze on Shen Jixing’s face, as though trying to catch the faintest trace of sincerity.

But there was none.

The man was as calm and indifferent as a finely crafted machine, yet his words belonged to a different world altogether—

"They found their missing son. They didn’t need me anymore."

Zhou Yili looked up at him suddenly.

It was the first time Shen Jixing had spoken of it.

He had always understood and accepted it. Even though he was too young at the time to truly comprehend, the Herberts would never expect their lost-and-found son to be the one to make sense of it all.

So, the only one who could leave was him.

Shen Jixing could accept this outcome as a matter of course.

What he couldn’t accept, perhaps, was the empty title bestowed on him on the day of his debut, and the long, silent, well-meaning acquiescence from France.

As if, just like that, the wound had been smoothed over.

And he, no longer even had the right, in some rare, quiet moment deep in the night, to wonder if perhaps he had ever been wronged.

Some people are born to sorrow.

Not even allowed the dignity of tears or grievance.

"…"

Shen Jixing drifted for a moment.

Zhou Yili watched him, and it wasn’t the satisfaction of seeing someone’s composure crack that he felt.

He parted his lips, wanting to say something.

Shen Jixing suddenly looked up at him. "Does this exchange satisfy you?"

In the blink of an eye, he had regained his composure, still cool and unruffled as before.

Zhou Yili pressed his lips together with a cold air. "Barely."

Shen Jixing’s story was clearly far more humiliating than his own.

But the man didn’t seem to care, even found his answer somewhat amusing.

Shen Jixing glanced at the unruly blue hair sticking up on Zhou Yili’s head, the corners of his lips curving almost imperceptibly with suppressed laughter. "Mm."

Then he got up to take a call on the balcony.

Zhou Yili’s grip on his glass tightened slightly, his gaze following the other man out onto the balcony, unspoken emotion spreading in the darkness of his eyes.

"Are you…"

He didn’t know Shen Jixing all that well.

The man hid his emotions too well, unwilling to open his heart to anyone.

But at least Zhou Yili knew this much: someone as proud as Shen Jixing would never use his old identity as a stepping stone after being cast aside.

So maybe, there was only one possibility.

Zhou Yili looked out at the balcony, at the slender, elegant silhouette bathed in pale golden morning light. "Did someone hurt you, Shen Jixing?"

…

Shen Jixing seemed to sense something and glanced back.

The living room was empty.

The sleepy little lion with messy blue hair had apparently gone back upstairs to catch up on sleep.

So, had he really come downstairs at dawn just for a glass of water?

How odd.

"Ancestor, Ancestor?"

Shen Jixing withdrew his gaze. "Don’t go assigning me relatives at random."

Pei Ming gave in. "No, seriously—are you really going on that unknown little variety show?"

He’d never expected that, after all the options, Shen Jixing would pick the least impressive show.

Was he going to do charity work?

"Maybe you haven’t heard of this show, but you must have heard of its director," Shen Jixing said coolly.

Pei Ming blinked. He actually hadn’t paid attention to who the director was. All he remembered was the show’s notorious name—"Happy Adventure Challenge."

A name that, just from the sound of it, killed any interest.

Did they even pay for the rights to use "Happy Crush"?

Pei Ming asked, "So, who’s the director…?"

"Forbes’ tenth-ranked Chinese entrepreneur—You Qian," Shen Jixing replied, stepping back in from the balcony, his pale fingers about to touch his laptop.

He paused for a moment.

…Had he closed his laptop when he left?

"Oh, now I remember. That director who, on a whim, charged into entertainment, invested in eight hundred projects and lost money on every single one. I heard that after being rebuffed everywhere, every setback only made him more determined, and the more determined he became, the worse he failed, the more he failed, the more determined he grew… I never thought he still hadn’t given up, even bought the rights to Happy Crush."

"…"

Pei Ming smiled wryly, "So you really like this show?"

Shen Jixing opened his laptop, lips curving faintly. "More or less."

Whenever he was at a dead end or in urgent need of money, he had a curious little habit.

That was how, in the vast sea of people, he’d picked the Zhou family.

"I just have a preference…"

Shen Jixing’s slender, pale fingers tapped at the keyboard, replying to confirm the meeting time, his lips lifting in a delicate arc.

"For big spenders who don’t mind losing money."

—

Actually!!! They never paid for the rights to Happy Crush :-D