Chapter 3: Rise and Have Some Coffee

Late at night, the neon lights of Blue Eucalyptus City shimmered.
A sea-blue McLaren sped down the road, then screeched to a halt in front of a supermarket. The man lowered his head to unbuckle his seatbelt, then paused—
“Am I out of my mind?”
Zhou Yili cursed himself with equal ferocity.
All it took was an offhand remark, and he really did obediently drive to the supermarket?
Ridiculous.
In the distance, beneath the city’s sky, neon lights tangled and scattered, streams of illumination converging into a river. The sign for “Half Awake” flickered with dazzling brilliance, carving out a different face of decadent revelry.
With a click, he fastened his seatbelt again.
He floored the gas, racing toward the city’s edge—
“Hey, where are you, man?”
On the other end of the phone, energetic club music blared in the background as Sheng Que demanded loudly, “The drinks and the beauties are all set for you, and you drive off into a ditch?”
“…”
Zhou Yili rested one hand on the steering wheel, his wrist elegant and sharp, answering with casual indifference, “Not interested anymore.”
Sheng Que didn’t catch the hidden meaning.
He snorted, “Yeah, got it, you’re into guys now.”
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t quite that he liked men.
Once upon a time, Young Master Zhou’s ideal type was a Marilyn Monroe-esque bombshell, but somewhere along the line, he bent and never looked back.
“So you’re not coming for drinks?”
Sheng Que, tipsy, burped out loud, his intoxication loosening his tongue:
“Did you see the trending news? Your Brother Shen has fallen from grace. Shouldn’t we pop a bottle of champagne to celebrate?”
At his words, the atmosphere died for a moment.
Even through the call, Sheng Que felt a chill.
He hurriedly had the beauty in his arms hold him tighter.
Suddenly, a cold laugh came from the other end, followed by what sounded like a car parking. “Brother’s not in the mood for drinks tonight.”
Zhou Yili casually picked up his phone, forwarded the location Sheng Que had sent him on WeChat with a flick of his finger.
“Just want coffee.”
[Z]: Reporting one idiot and twelve little beauties. Shall we catch them, Uncle?
[Fuchen, CEO of Fushi Group]: …
[Fuchen, CEO of Fushi Group]: The meeting’s over. I’ll be there soon.
Sheng Que was the archetype of a second-generation heir. His parents died when he was young, and his vast family poured all their affection onto him.
Naturally, he grew up crooked.
When the sapling bends, there’s always someone to correct it. His mother’s younger brother, a prodigy she supported in her youth, became the only cold-blooded guardian who refused to spoil him.
Sheng Que’s legs went weak every time he saw him.
Truly weak.
“Seriously, are you unwell?” Sheng Que asked in confusion. “Running out for coffee at this hour? Are you not sleeping tonight?”
Zhou Yili reveled in his mischief.
“Yeah, mind your own business.”
Sheng Que: “?”
…

The globally limited sea-blue sports car sped down the road, finally coming upon a lit coffee shop after half an hour.
Zhou Yili stepped out, pulling a cap onto his head.
“One Americano. No ice, no sugar, no milk.”
The attendant, dozing off, snapped awake at the three ‘no’s.
…Is he drinking herbal medicine?
She looked up, and the exhaustion of a long day melted away before the handsome stranger’s face.
She kindly warned, “It’ll be very bitter with nothing added.”
This cool, aloof man crossed his arms lazily, gaze fixed on the whirring coffee machine, his expression cold as he sneered,
“Good. Let him suffer.”
“…”
“Have a nice night, handsome! Come again soon~”
Watching as the man’s figure disappeared beyond the glass doors, the attendant belatedly realized he looked familiar, like a popular celebrity.
What was his name…?
Ah, right.
Shen Yili!
Shen Yili carried his coffee home at a leisurely pace.
The fingerprint lock beeped, and he paused at the entrance, eyes lifting to the warmly lit living room.
Usually, when he returned, it was into the pitch-black depths of night.
Tonight, though, it was a different scene.
The feather floor lamp cast a gentle glow, and someone was curled up asleep on the sofa, a pale shirt revealing a glimpse of collarbone, a fine silver chain glinting faintly.
…When did he start wearing jewelry?
Zhou Yili had been flamboyant since childhood, especially fond of dangling accessories for a while.
Back then, Shen Jixing was his piano tutor, aloof and unapproachable.
His brief critique: “Tacky.”
Like a peacock showing off.
At seventeen, Zhou Yili was brash and bright.
He’d deliberately bump knees, bite his necklace, look up and laugh lightly, “Don’t meddle, I’m not showing off for you anyway, am I, Teacher Shen?”
Zhou Yili walked over with his coffee.
The fine silver chain rested against the collarbone, catching the soft glow, making the skin look almost luminous.
His Adam’s apple bobbed unconsciously, then he raised his leg to kick the sofa.
“Get up. Coffee.”
“…”
Shen Jixing was always a light sleeper. He opened his eyes and looked at the tall figure backlit by the lamp.
Zhou Yili shook the coffee in his hand, grinning with not a hint of sympathy, even a little provoking.
“Moved?”
This scene was no different than Pan Jinlian waking someone up to drink medicine.
Shen Jixing rubbed his brow, his impeccable manners stopping him from saying anything. He reached for the coffee held aloft, voice calm, “Thank you.”
But it wouldn’t budge.
Shen Jixing looked up: “?”

Two seconds later, Zhou Yili withdrew his hand, face cold.
Like a North American lion causing trouble but getting no reaction, he slipped his hand into his pocket, turning away to head upstairs.
“Wait.”
Shen Jixing sipped the coffee lightly, looking up to ask, “Which room am I sleeping in tonight?”
Zhou Yili stopped.
He thought for a moment, lazily tilting his head toward the second floor, “Left side.”
“Alright.”
Shen Jixing lowered his gaze to the coffee, saying nothing more.
At the stairway, Zhou Yili paused again, as if recalling something, his relaxed drawl drifting over, “No one’s ever used that room. The housekeeper cleans it once a week. If you find it dirty and don’t want to stay…”
Shen Jixing hadn’t responded yet.
He leaned against the banister, the curved steps behind him luxurious, arm folded as if posing for a magazine cover.
He offered, “You could always squeeze in with the stray dog downstairs. Not a bad option.”
“…”
Shen Jixing’s calm gaze finally shifted slightly.
He had the quintessential cold face, rumored to command fear in his industry. Zhou Yili, clearly, feared nothing.
His smile was rakish and wild as he strolled up the stairs.
The black diamond on his ear glinted like his grin.
“Childish.”
Shen Jixing concluded serenely.
Zhou Yili had always been this way—flamboyant and bold.
You couldn’t ignore him. Couldn’t leave him alone. Otherwise, he’d keep provoking you.
Until your eyes saw only him, and nothing else.
Shen Jixing tilted his head back, drained the coffee in one go, then rose to go upstairs as well.
There were only two rooms on the second floor.
Even as a guest room, the decor was exquisite, clean and neat as a model home.
Zhou Yili was a rich young master—if he got bored with showbiz, he could go home and inherit billions.
Shen Jixing remembered he hadn’t transferred the money for the coffee yet.
He powered on his phone—the missed calls from Pei Ming numbered eight. With no new attempts, Pei Ming had evidently given up.
Shen Jixing opened his WeChat list, tapped ‘Z’ at the bottom—the very last contact in his list: Zhou Yili.
Their chat history lingered at four years ago.
The same four words appeared on the same page, three days apart.
—June 30, 2020—
[Z]: I graduated
—July 3, 2020—
[Z]: I debuted