Shen Li had once been so heartless. Back then, Ji Zhouye had even thought he’d never let him have an easy life.
But when it really came to this—when Shen Li looked at him with eyes full of grievance—the hatred he’d felt at the moment of their separation unknowingly began to dissipate.
The car stopped at the estate parking area. Shen Li unfastened his seatbelt, about to get out.
Someone grabbed his wrist. A sudden sense of weightlessness followed, and he crashed into a warm embrace, his nose filled with Ji Zhouye’s cool, clean scent.
He lifted his eyes and met Ji Zhouye’s deep gaze. His lips parted, but in the end, he said nothing.
“What’s really wrong?” Ji Zhouye asked, lowering his gaze to look at him.
Shen Li was silent for a moment. “It’s really nothing.”
He didn’t want to talk to Ji Zhouye about the mess at home—even though Ji Zhouye probably already knew all about it.
Ji Zhouye didn’t press further. He wrapped his arms around him. “Then let’s hug for a while.”
Shen Li circled Ji Zhouye’s waist. His eyes slowly reddened. He’d held it in for so long before finally suppressing the urge to tell him all his grievances—everything, including the pain of their separation.
Friday.
There were some tricky issues at work that needed handling, but out of professionalism and responsibility as a driver, Shen Li still went to pick Ji Zhouye up on time after work.
After Ji Zhouye got in the car, Shen Li informed him, “I’ll need to go back to the company later. There’s still some work to deal with. I might be back late.”
Through the rearview mirror, Shen Li stole a glance at Ji Zhouye. The man in the back seat didn’t speak, his presence carrying a faint chill.
After spending day and night together for some time, Shen Li still couldn’t fully grasp Ji Zhouye’s thoughts. Sometimes he was good to him—though he never admitted it, Shen Li could feel it.
Other times, he was distant. Like now.
Shen Li tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “If it’s too late after I finish work, I’ll go back to my own place. I won’t disturb you.”
“Go to Night Ferry Club,” Ji Zhouye said lightly, his tone so flat it revealed no emotion.
The car started. The atmosphere inside was quiet, the two of them silent.
After a long while, Shen Li couldn’t stand it anymore and broke the silence. “What time are you coming back? I’ll pick you up.”
“No need.”
This time, Shen Li fell silent.
Did that mean he wasn’t coming back?
While waiting at a red light, Shen Li irritably ran a hand through his hair and leaned back against the seat.
Since returning to the country, he’d been busy with Jiangqing’s affairs and hadn’t gone out much for entertainment. He’d only been to Night Ferry Club a few times.
Ling Feng had mentioned that Night Ferry Club had money-and-sex transactions.
That kind of thing wasn’t unusual for such places, but what Ling Feng meant wasn’t limited to men and women—men looking for men there were everywhere.
The more Shen Li thought about it, the more irritated he became. He wanted a cigarette, but he was driving.
Restless the entire way, he finally couldn’t help asking carefully when they were almost there, “Do you have social engagements tonight?”
“No.”
“Are you coming home tonight?”
Ji Zhouye lifted his eyes to look at him, his gaze unreadable. After a few seconds, he slowly said, “Do you want me to come back?”
“Whether I want it or not doesn’t matter. It’s up to you.” Shen Li didn’t say anything more.
Standing in a position where he wasn’t qualified to be jealous, he didn’t dare ask too much.
He watched Ji Zhouye enter the club, then lit a cigarette before leaving.
Sour. Extremely sour.
He couldn’t quite describe how he felt—sour, with a hint of pain.
Shen Li was clear about his position. He wasn’t qualified to be jealous, nor to feel hurt. That was what made it the most unbearable—his heart felt like it was being clenched by a giant hand, leaving him unable to breathe.
His emotions were tangled, yet he didn’t dare make them clear to Ji Zhouye. He couldn’t read Ji Zhouye’s thoughts and didn’t know whether Ji Zhouye keeping him by his side meant he still liked him.
The room was dim, lights flickering. Ji Zhouye pushed the door open and entered.
“President Ji, you’re here,” Li Ming said, already having poured the drinks while waiting for him.
Ji Zhouye responded with a soft “Mm.”
Li Ming was the son of a friend of Ji Zhouye’s father, Ji Heng. He’d studied physics at Southern University, the same school as Ji Zhouye. Back then, he knew everything—how Shen Li had broken up with Ji Zhouye, how he’d trampled Ji Zhouye’s pride into the dirt.
Ji Zhouye leaned back into the sofa. Li Ming pushed a glass toward him. “I heard you helped him again?”
“Mm.”
Li Ming clicked his tongue, feeling it wasn’t worth it for Ji Zhouye. Shen Li had hurt him badly back then—a man so proud had lowered himself to the dust, yet still couldn’t get the one he loved to look back.
That man’s current misery was nothing but karma.
These thoughts, Li Ming only dared keep to himself. He didn’t dare say them aloud—especially not in front of Ji Zhouye. Saying them would be like pushing their friendship to the edge of a cliff, where one gust of wind would send it plummeting into oblivion.
“Still can’t forget him?” Li Ming asked.
He was asking the obvious. If Ji Zhouye could let go, he wouldn’t have asked Li Ming to arrange cooperation with Jiangqing in the first place.
During Jiangqing’s financial crisis, all the companies willing to cooperate smoothly were ones Ji Zhouye had arranged.
Li Ming sighed helplessly. He’d thought Ji Zhouye would only help in secret and wouldn’t show himself personally—but in the end, he still couldn’t resist stepping in himself. How deep did that love run?
Ji Zhouye’s gaze was dark. “I want to be good with him. I want to start over.”
He picked up his glass and drained it in one go.
Li Ming frowned slightly. “Once you decide on something, no one can stop you.”
After a pause, he continued, “You can give him benefits now. But if—just if—one day Jiangqing stands back up and rivals JH, and he kicks you aside like a dog again, like he did back then… what will you do?”
Shen Li’s ability was obvious to everyone in the business circle. Jiangqing’s mess had held him back. Now that it was gradually improving, it wouldn’t take long before it stood shoulder to shoulder with JH.
Li Ming still remembered all the despair and torment his friend had gone through and didn’t want him to repeat it.
Ji Zhouye’s black eyes were bottomless. “I’ll make him wish he were dead.”
Li Ming refilled his glass. “Why bother? Let yourself go.”
“I can’t.”
It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried to let go. He just couldn’t.
He thought time would make him forget—but every time he woke from midnight dreams, that unrestrained figure, that arrogant smile, lingered vividly in his mind.
Time could make some people or things fade, but it could also carve others deeper.
Jiangqing Building.
What should’ve taken two hours took four.
When Shen Li finished work, it was already ten. He leaned back in his office chair, smoking, unwilling to go home—afraid that Ji Zhouye wouldn’t be there, afraid his mind would spiral.
The office lights were on, pungent smoke filling the air. The red ember between his fingers flickered on and off.
His thoughts were in chaos, again and again wondering whether Ji Zhouye had gone home.
If he hadn’t, what was he doing?
Drinking with friends?
Or in a hotel room with someone else…
The ember burned his middle finger. He glanced at it indifferently, not daring to think further—just the thought made him feel suffocated.
Just as he decided to spend the night in the office, the phone on his desk lit up.
Seeing the caller ID, Shen Li froze for a moment, then straightened up and answered.
There was silence on the other end for two seconds. Then a hoarse voice sounded—
“Come downstairs.”