The bathroom door suddenly opened. Shen Li froze as he saw Ji Zhouye, bare-chested, and his gaze fell on those defined abs.
“Since you’re so restless, we’ll shower together,” Ji Zhouye said coldly.
Shen Li wanted to regret it—but it was too late. Ji Zhouye didn’t give him the chance, gripping his wrist and pulling him into the bathroom.
Ji Zhouye pressed him against the wall, assertive and dominant.
Shen Li watched his clothes fall away and inwardly cursed himself—why did he bother teasing this man?
From the sink to the bathtub…
Eventually, they returned to the bed.
That night, Shen Li felt nothing but regret.
Breathless regret, tearful regret.
Every part of him ached…
He slept until the following afternoon. At noon, Ji Zhouye called him for lunch. Groggy, Shen Li kicked Ji Zhouye in protest.
Ji Zhouye, caring as ever, didn’t mind and let him sleep until he naturally woke.
When Shen Li woke, only the butler, Uncle Zhang, and his wife, Aunt Zhao, were in the estate.
Zhang managed the gardens, Zhao handled cooking and cleaning. Their teamwork was seamless, sometimes helping each other out.
As Shen Li went downstairs, Zhao poked her head out of the kitchen. “Mr. Shen, come eat if you’re up.”
He glanced around, not seeing Ji Zhouye, and asked as he entered the dining room, “Aunt Zhao, isn’t Mr. Ji here?”
“He went out,” Zhao replied, placing the last dish and a bowl of soup in front of him. “He asked me to make sure you finished your meal.”
Shen Li scooped a spoonful of soup. “What can he do if I don’t eat?”
“He said the consequences are on you,” Zhao said.
Shen Li: “…Seriously?”
He wasn’t foolish enough to starve himself.
Zhao stood by as he ate, and Shen Li, thinking of her effort, ate a bit more—food and the hard work behind it shouldn’t go to waste.
Finishing the meal, he checked his phone—no messages from Ji Zhouye. Sleeping through a day without saying a word? That was just Ji Zhouye’s style.
“Aunt Zhao, did Mr. Ji say what time he’d return?”
“No, he said if he comes back late, have your dinner first.”
Shen Li wanted a smoke but didn’t want to fill the house with smoke, so he went to the garden.
After all, Ji Zhouye had frowned at the smell of smoke on him last night.
Outside, the sun beat down, making the courtyard feel stifling. The flowers and plants drooped under the heat. Shen Li headed to the gazebo and lit a cigarette.
It was too hot to linger, so he finished quickly and dispersed the smoke from his clothes before returning inside.
At that moment, a figure stood outside the black iron gate, peeking into the courtyard. If not for his resemblance to Ji Zhouye, Shen Li might have thought it was a thief.
“Aunt Zhao, please open the door for me,” said the visitor.
Zhang came out first, Zhao following. Zhang opened the gate for the man to enter.
“Little master, come inside and cool off,” Zhang said.
“Where’s my brother?” Ji Zhiyu asked.
“Out,” Zhang replied.
Ji Zhiyu’s gaze shifted to Shen Li in the gazebo; his expression darkened.
“Zhang, Aunt Zhao, you two go back. I’ll come later,” he said.
They left, and Shen Li recognized him. He’d met Ji Zhiyu once during his time dating Ji Zhouye.
Back then, he was a green teenager; now, he had matured somewhat, though still a bit immature compared to Ji Zhouye at the same age.
Shen Li sighed. Sometimes immature kids were the hardest to handle.
Ji Zhiyu grabbed his collar, and Shen Li met the glare in his eyes—a striking resemblance to Ji Zhouye at times.
Ji Zhiyu’s fist smashed into Shen Li’s face. “How dare you come here? How dare you appear around my brother!”
“Ugh.” Shen Li turned his face, blood trickling from his mouth.
Ji Zhiyu raised his fist again but seeing Shen Li wouldn’t fight back, he stopped. “My brother forgave you, but I won’t. I know how you treated him back then and what he went through.”
“I’ll tell you this—while I, Ji Zhiyu, am here, you’ll never set foot in my house again.”
His parents were open-minded and respected their children’s opinions, but that didn’t mean any scumbag could enter the Ji household. Shen Li, in particular, was forbidden.
Still upset, Ji Zhiyu spat, “Scumbag!”
Shen Li wiped the blood from his mouth. “Hot out here. Come inside.”
They went inside, neither acknowledging the other, retreating to their respective rooms.
Ji Zhiyu had set up a gaming room on the third floor where he could sleep or play. Sometimes, when his parents were too naggy, he stayed here for a couple of days.
Shen Li treated his mouth wound in his room.
Of all places to get hit—right on the face. The corner of his mouth would be bruised for days.
After a night of being messed with by Ji Zhouye and a day of being beaten by the younger brother, he felt thoroughly defeated.
He also owed Ji Zhouye.
After cleaning up, Shen Li lay back down, sleeping again until four o’clock.
Downstairs, he heard Ji Zhiyu complaining to Aunt Zhao.
“My brother’s crazy, bringing this… thing home. Has he forgotten what this scumbag did to him?”
Zhao chuckled. “Young master, we don’t really know what happened between your brother and Mr. Shen. We’re just bystanders. Some matters must be resolved by those involved.”
“That’s why I’m angry! My brother lets him stay here, while I don’t get this treatment!” Ji Zhiyu’s anger at his brother’s unfairness was clear. “When my brother returns, I’ll make sure he kicks him out.”
“Ji Zhiyu.”
A cold, oppressive voice rang out.
Ji Zhiyu looked up. “Brother, you’re back.”
Shen Li watched from not far away as Ji Zhouye’s gaze landed on the corner of his mouth.
“I see your mouth corner… what happened?” Ji Zhouye’s eyes held a trace of anger.
Only then did Ji Zhiyu notice the man behind him. Feeling caught gossiping, he knew there was nothing wrong—he was just stating facts.
What frightened him was the sense that his brother was about to explode.
Ji Zhiyu stared at Shen Li, thinking if this man dared to complain, he’d never look up to him again.
The air in the grand living room grew heavy, making it hard to breathe.
Shen Li casually touched his lip corner. “I bumped into the bathroom door when I woke up and was half-asleep.”