Chapter 94: Just a Scoundrel

Fu Chen heard the choked, tearful voice behind him.

He paused for two seconds. “No.”

He had no intention of abandoning Sheng Que.

Fu Chen’s tone was naturally cool and aloof; even when he softened his voice, it carried little emotion. “Don’t let your mind wander. Get some rest early.”

Sheng Que refused to let go of him.

Kneeling on the bed, he went from gripping with one hand to clinging with both, like a koala hanging onto him.

“You hesitated.”

“…”

Sheng Que had always been troublesome by nature.

Fu Chen paused for a moment, then turned his head to look at him. “I’m not angry. Now that both the Sheng family and the Fu Corporation have stabilized, I’ve grown accustomed to managing both sides. Even without you, I could handle things, so…”

Sheng Que stared up at him, dazed.

Moonlight poured through the window, cold and clear, casting Fu Chen’s indifferent features into a blur. His lowered lashes were straight and icy.

Sheng Que couldn’t quite grasp what he was saying.

He thought his little uncle looked handsome.

Fu Chen turned fully, meeting his vacant, round eyes. “If you hate being disciplined so much, just do as you wish.”

Madam Sheng’s kindness toward him was enough to ensure Sheng Que’s lifelong peace.

“What do you mean?”

Sheng Que seemed not to understand, so Fu Chen explained, “I won’t restrain you anymore. If you want to go to bars, go. If you want to race cars, race. If you want to…date girls, then date.”

Fu Chen granted him the greatest freedom.

On his birthday, Sheng Que got everything he’d ever wanted.

Yet he couldn’t feel happy. For the first time, he was overwhelmed with sadness. “So you still don’t want me… What should I do? Can I take it back, sob, sob…”

Like a child who hadn’t grown up.

Wounding words, once spoken, cannot be taken back.

Fu Chen couldn’t reason with someone drunk. He lifted Sheng Que’s hands away. “Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, Sheng Que wouldn’t cry. He’d be happy.

He disliked being disciplined, loved to play, loved pretty girls.

“Don’t go,” Sheng Que sat up, wrapped his arms around Fu Chen’s waist, pressing his wet cheek to his back and sobbing, “Don’t go, don’t go.”

Fu Chen’s back stiffened, and he instinctively blurted, “Sheng Que, mind your manners.”

Sheng Que froze for a moment.

He thought, Yes, that’s just how it should be.

Growing bolder, he climbed up Fu Chen’s straight back, hanging onto him like a koala, wrapping his legs around his waist.

He was utterly satisfied by Fu Chen’s tense, shallow breaths.

“Little uncle, scold me, quick.”

“…”

……

Shen Jixing called Fu Chen as soon as he got home.

Perhaps because they came from the same place, their personalities were somewhat similar; neither had close confidants.

“Are you alright?”

Fu Chen emerged from the room. “I’m fine.”

Even though his tone remained indifferent, Shen Jixing detected the subtle difference.

“Did you calm him down?”

He guessed Sheng Que must have soothed him.

Fu Chen hadn’t drunk much, his thoughts were clear, but he was exhausted from Sheng Que’s clinging. “Yes, I put him to sleep.”

Shen Jixing: “…”

He withdrew his words of comfort, feeling oddly amused.

Clearly, the one who was angry was Fu Chen.

Yet in the end, it was he who had to lull Sheng Que to sleep.

“Sheng Que is still so young, his words mean no harm…” Shen Jixing’s sentence broke off abruptly; Fu Chen, on the other end, didn’t notice.

“I know, but I really should consider it.”

Shen Jixing replied after two seconds, “Consider what?”

“Moving out of the Sheng family.”

He couldn’t restrain Sheng Que for a lifetime.

Fu Chen was a man of clear emotions. Today, with Sheng Que draped over him, he felt himself losing control, hidden feelings emerging after years.

He couldn’t use his own selfishness to bind Sheng Que forever.

“Oh, alright,” Shen Jixing answered after a brief silence.

Fu Chen: “…?”

Has the feeling faded?

Shen Jixing was still pondering how to end the call naturally, while Fu Chen stepped into the corridor enveloped in night, speaking with clarity, “Alright, hanging up now. Otherwise, the lion might bite.”

“…”

Shen Jixing turned off his phone screen.

He straightened slightly and looked toward the biting lion.

“Zhou Yili.”

In fact, Zhou Yili had wanted to pounce on him as soon as he walked in, but Shen Jixing stopped him, his fingers lightly brushing Zhou’s lips, cool and flirtatious.

Then he said, “Play by yourself, I need to make a call.”

Zhou Yili: “???”

Shen Jixing sat on the sofa in the living room and dialed Fu Chen.

He watched the usually unruly young master, now looking like a foolish child, slowly sitting at his feet on the carpet.

Playing with his star-shaped necklace.

Zhou Yili liked wearing silver jewelry; as he fiddled with the six-pointed star, it felt oddly familiar.

Before he could examine it closely—

Shen Jixing raised his hand to cover Zhou’s eyes.

Zhou Yili seized his wrist, starting to play with his hand, making his fingertips damp. Shen Jixing, cool and averse to mess, withdrew.

Dog-like.

Shen Jixing leaned back on the sofa, keeping his hands out of reach.

Zhou Yili, deprived, lifted his long gaze and caught sight of Shen Jixing’s waist as he raised his hand.

A glimpse of that deep black six-pointed star.

“…”

Shen Jixing tossed aside his phone, looking at Zhou Yili half-kneeling on the carpet, biting at his side.

“Have a bit of alcohol and your true colors show?” Shen Jixing grabbed the tousled hair at his nape, glaring at this sharp-toothed, indiscriminate biter.

Zhou Yili’s mind was much clearer now.

But it was rare for him to be so drunk, his mind echoing with Shen Jixing calling him “little lion.”

He hissed at Shen Jixing.

“…”

Shen Jixing was silent for several seconds, thinking he was too adorable.

He quietly distanced himself from the cuddly Zhou Yili, who, confused, tugged at his trousers.

Shen Jixing leaned sideways on the sofa, feeling his loose trousers slip, exposing a stretch of taut, flat waist, the six-pointed star stark against pale skin.

Even the dip of his waist was exposed to the air.

“……”

He lifted Zhou Yili’s head before he could bite, “We have to shoot morning scenes tomorrow, don’t always think about that…”

Zhou Yili stared into his eyes, his lean, athletic frame slowly pressing closer.

As if clueless, “What do you mean, ‘that’?”

Shen Jixing looked away, unsure if he was still drunk.

But he vaguely remembered the feeling from before, when the cautious youth was already careful.

Yet even then, the next day he hadn’t managed to get out of bed.

Let alone now, with Zhou Yili.

“Don’t…” Shen Jixing caught his hand; his nature was to rank everything by importance. “Wait until filming wraps up, then…”

Zhou Yili’s hand was already on his waist, the heat climbing inch by inch. “And then what?”

Shen Jixing was a man of quiet restraint, but Zhou Yili was the opposite.

“Then—”

Shen Jixing didn’t finish; he felt his waistline being exposed, as the hand with an icy ring slid down his back.

He bit his lip, jaw clenched, cursing, “Bastard…”

Zhou Yili was delighted to be cursed.

The cool metal ring warmed against his skin.

He laughed low, pressing a kiss to Shen Jixing’s misty eyes. “Look at you, always saying no…”