Chapter 69: Shen Jixing Is the Only Rebel in the Kingdom of Entertainment

“Sir.”
Mu Si walked through the rose garden bathed in moonlight, coming to stand quietly behind the man, his hands gently resting on the wheelchair.
“Is Young Master still unwilling to return home with you tonight?”
Though it was phrased as a question, his tone held certainty.
He knew better than anyone that Shen Jixing did not wish to come back.
Mu Si had always felt that his master was a complicated man.
He was merciful, compassionate, and selfless, praying devoutly for the favor of the divine and performing countless good deeds, saving many lives.
Yet at the same time, he was obsessive, gloomy, volatile—mercurial and unpredictable—and he had hurt many people, too.
Shen Jixing, without a doubt, was the one most deeply wounded.
To Bo Yu, he was the perfect work of art. Whether he wished it or not, all manner of things would be forced upon him; failing to comply meant only torment and bruises in the basement.
Mu Si had an impeccable memory.
Even he had lost track of how many injuries Shen Jixing had once endured.
As if, under the guise of salvation, it became only natural to imprison and torment him.
Mu Si thought, it’s better not to come back.
Better not to remain the caged bird in a gilded prison.
“He will not return.”
Bo Yu’s voice broke the silence. His pale fingertips were cut by the thorns of the roses, and blood traced a sinuous, uncanny line.
Mu Si could not help but be shocked. “Is that true?”
There was a note of astonished excitement in his words, at odds with his usual cool, stoic demeanor as a bodyguard.
He quickly closed his mouth.
But Bo Yu seemed lost in his own world, unaware of what Mu Si had said.
“This time, it’s not a fit of pique or rebellion. He will not come back.”
The only one who could break the chains was always himself.
In Bo Yu’s entertainment empire, there were no traitors.
Shen Jixing was the sole betrayer.
“At first, I couldn’t understand who would dare lay a hand on him, or why those trending topics involved baseless rumors about wealthy patrons and male fans.”
“It was all for me to see.”
Bo Yu himself was the patron behind him.
And Shen Jixing was not afraid to have the world know.
Since Bo Yu used his future as a threat, Shen Jixing simply handed his entire future back.
He laid everything bare under the sun—
His family, his parents, his education, Bo Yu… and Zhou Yili.
He had chosen a path no one else had dared—a bold, reckless, mad gamble.
“He is my own creation. He is like me.”
Bo Yu almost sounded gratified, even amused.
Mu Si disagreed. “Sir, he’s not like you.”
He had always spoken his mind. Lowering his gaze to the master’s refined, handsome face, he added, “You do not possess Young Master’s fearless courage.”
In truth, the Young Master had not possessed it, either, in the past.
Such reckless abandon, such resolve to burn all bridges.

It was more like that person.
Zhou Yili.
The rose in Bo Yu’s palm was crushed into mud. He slowly raised his eyes to look at Mu Si. “…Mu Si, have I indulged you too much lately?”
Mu Si bowed his head. “I will accept whatever punishment you see fit.”
But the truth, he would still speak.
He would rather suffer in body than hold his tongue.
“Let it go, sir.” Mu Si wheeled him through the fragrant, lush roses, then knelt at the end of the path to tend to Bo Yu’s wounded hand.
Bo Yu seemed to hear something amusing. “Let it go?”
He let the blood flow from his pale fingertips, his hands elegant and dangerous as those of a vampire.
“I will never give up.”
To surrender—those were the two words Bo Yu despised most in life. Many had urged him to give up.
But he had never considered accepting his fate.
Why should everyone else be allowed to stand,
and not he?
“He is the one I raised with my own hands. I brought him back from the brink of death on a winter’s night, gave him new life and hope, nurtured him step by step to become the most outstanding person in the world.”
“And now he wishes to betray me, to flee without looking back.”
Bo Yu lowered his gaze to the youth bandaging his wound.
A drop of blood fell from his fingertip onto Mu Si’s cheek.
“Mu Si, the one who needs to learn to give up is not me.”
“It is him.”
…
Night had fallen, deep and heavy.
Zhou Yili lounged lazily against the side of his car, idly spinning a tiny crown between his fingers. Fortunately, the director was not stingy; the crown was pure gold—otherwise, the paint would likely have worn off by now.
Hearing faint movement behind him, Zhou Yili placed the crown on his head, pressing down on his unruly blue hair as he turned.
He found himself face-to-face with Sheng Que’s wide, sparkling eyes.
Sheng Que raised a friendly hand. “Hey, princess?”
Zhou Yili lifted his foot and kicked. “Get lost.”
Princess—what kind of word was that to use on him?
He leaned against the car door with languid ease, his sea-blue hair as calm as the deep ocean, the crown perched crookedly atop his head.
So handsome that Sheng Que couldn’t help but whistle.
“Hey, beautiful, all alone? Want to have dinner with me tonight?” Sheng Que fluttered his eyelashes at him, all flirtatious charm.
Zhou Yili shot him a sidelong glance. “Do you have a sister?”
Sheng Que froze on the spot.
Zhou Yili had his recorder ready, just waiting for Sheng Que’s answer so he could send it to his uncle.
Seeing the odd look on Sheng Que’s face, Zhou Yili sneered. “What’s that look for? I’m just asking if you have a sister.”
Sheng Que’s stone-still eyes shifted. He blinked at him obediently, as if to say: You can’t trick me, you’re doomed.

Suddenly Zhou Yili realized something, just as the scent of white sandalwood drifted closer behind him.
Shen Jixing approached the car with a calm expression.
With a hint of amusement, he too asked Sheng Que, “Do you have a sister?”
Sheng Que’s wits were sharp. “No, I’m going home to give my uncle a wrist massage.”
And maybe check his height while he was at it.
One day he would rise above, and make Fu Chen pay.
Sheng Que suddenly clutched his head, feeling odd about mentally calling Fu Chen by name—he usually addressed him respectfully as uncle.
Fu Chen.
Ahahaha, one day saying his full name aloud would be so satisfying!
Finally, Sheng Que refrained from flirting with Zhou Yili.
“The score for that last round of truth or dare hasn’t been settled, and now you’re after my sister? You’re in for it tonight.”
“In for it?”
Zhou Yili caught that word and laughed nonchalantly. “He’d have to dare to do anything to me.”
Sheng Que clicked his tongue twice.
Look at this young master—arrogant as ever.
After Sheng Que left, Shen Jixing moved his feet with studied indifference.
Zhou Yili looked up and stared at him. “I wasn’t wrong, was I?”
Shen Jixing only shifted slightly. “?”
“Between Sheng Que and me, you know which of us is interested in sisters.”
Zhou Yili, despite his pride, seemed unwilling to upset him, and explained, “And as for the truth or dare thing, I wasn’t wrong either.”
“You looked at me for a second—wasn’t it because you wanted to ask?”
“… ”
“Don’t forget who braved the rainy night to come find me first…”
“Zhou Yili.” Shen Jixing interrupted, half exasperated, half amused. “You really do talk too much.”
Zhou Yili: “…”
“I was the one who came to find you. I never said I minded.”
Shen Jixing calmly opened the car door and, looking up at the man leaning against the car, his eyes dark and fierce beneath the crown, said,
“Get in. Let’s go home.”
Zhou Yili watched him bend to sit in the passenger seat.
The sea-blue sports car, his favorite model—Shen Jixing naturally took his place beside him,
waiting for him to take him home.
Shen Jixing was not angry.
Zhou Yili realized he’d never truly known what was in his mind, or what he wanted to do.
Even on the night Shen Jixing came to find him in the rain—
“Zhou Yili, do you want to sleep with me?”