Shen Li approached Ji Zhouye’s desk, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “President Ji, if… I mean, if the lottery prize is five million, could you… maybe give me a few more chances?”
Ji Zhouye had already guessed the amount Shen Li won and, without exposing him, played along. “What kind of chances?”
Shen Li’s eyes darkened slightly.
He wanted a chance to start over…
Suppressing the strange flutter in his chest, Shen Li leaned on the desk, a slightly naughty smile on his face. “Some opportunities to show myself… like taking you to dinner, movies, traveling—things like that.”
The light reflected in his eyes, bright like a star in the darkness.
A faint smile appeared in Ji Zhouye’s eyes. “If I have time… maybe.”
Shen Li placed the winning lottery ticket in front of him. “Exactly five million. No more, no less.”
“Congratulations.” Ji Zhouye’s lips curved subtly.
“After I claim the prize and pay taxes, I’ll give you half. Everyone who sees it gets a share,” Shen Li said with a smile. “I know you’re not short on money, but no refusing.”
Ji Zhouye’s gaze flickered to his lips. Without preamble, he muttered, “Want to bully you.”
“Huh?”
Shen Li was about to say, I’m giving you money, and you’re thinking about bullying me?
Before he could utter a word, Ji Zhouye’s cool, thin lips pressed against his, silencing him.
The kiss came out of nowhere; he couldn’t resist and could only receive it, being bullied at will.
The next day at Jiangqing Group’s office:
The two stared at each other, unblinking.
Ling Feng couldn’t help it and spoke first. “Shen Zong, if you have something to ask, just ask.”
Shen Li carefully chose his words. “If someone doesn’t like you, yet kisses you first, what does that mean?”
“Probably being perverted,” Ling Feng realized he might have said too much. “Just my opinion.”
If someone doesn’t like you but kisses you first, being a pervert seemed the only plausible explanation.
Watching his own president, he felt he couldn’t remain silent. Carefully, he said, “Shen Zong, speaking bluntly, I think this person might be a jerk. Jerks usually act like this.”
Shen Li: “……”
Ji Zhouye a jerk?
Doesn’t look like it.
“You should get back to work.”
“Okay, Shen Zong.” Relief—he wasn’t scolded this time.
Ji Zhouye a jerk?
A jerk?
Not liking someone yet wanting to sleep with them?
A flood of questions emerged. For a moment, Shen Li thought maybe Ji Zhouye really was a jerk—didn’t like him yet wanted him.
But then he thought: if Ji Zhouye was a jerk, what was he?
If anything, Shen Li himself was even more of a jerk.
Being Ji Zhouye’s lover had always been mutually beneficial—Shen Li had the greedy idea first, wanting to stay by Ji Zhouye’s side.
He stopped thinking too much; overthinking only caused anxiety and solved nothing. Besides, Ling Feng wasn’t reliable anyway.
Just as he picked up some documents, Ji Zhouye called.
Shen Li answered, and a few seconds later, Ji Zhouye hung up. He put the phone down and rushed out of the office, taking the private elevator downstairs.
The elevator doors opened, and Shen Li looked up into those deep, black eyes. “You’re here?”
“What, not welcome?”
Ji Zhouye stood before him, tall and imposing, features sharp and elegant. His narrow black eyes were cold and detached.
“Welcome.” Shen Li whispered.
Exiting the elevator, Shen Li held Ji Zhouye’s wrist and led him to the fingerprint reader.
He used his own fingerprint to unlock it, then guided Ji Zhouye to register his. With a playful smile, he said, “To show my welcome, this elevator will also serve you from now on.”
Watching the registration succeed, Ji Zhouye’s lips lifted subtly.
The screen showed three fingerprints: Ji Zhouye’s, Shen Li’s, and one unknown.
Ji Zhouye’s eyes darkened. “Who’s the third fingerprint?”
Shen Li’s eyes darkened too. “My father’s.”
After taking over the company, Shen Li preserved traces of his late father.
Ji Zhouye studied his profile silently, then swiped the screen to exit.
A warm hand pressed against Shen Li’s neck, gently massaging. “Next time, can I come directly?”
Shen Li had the strange impression Ji Zhouye was comforting him, looking into his eyes. “Next time, just come directly.”
Back in the office, Shen Li made Ji Zhouye a cup of coffee before attending to some documents.
Ji Zhouye stood by the window, taking a call.
Ling Feng entered with a report and, accustomed to barging in, walked straight to the desk.
“Shen Zong, is this your boyfriend?”
The silhouette resembled the one he’d seen that night.
Shen Li glanced at Ji Zhouye, who was still on the phone.
“What’s the matter?” he asked Ling Feng.
Without denying it, Ling Feng assumed consent. “Shengyang Group wants to discuss a partnership. There’s a dinner—go or not?”
Shengyang had previously been arrogant and difficult, though later apologized. Shen Li had also stepped in on his behalf. The partnership’s potential benefit was minimal, so Jiangqing could decline.
Ling Feng handed the documents to Shen Li. He glanced and said, “Go.”
Ling Feng protested, “Shen Zong, you’re forgetting how they treated us before?”
“Precisely because I remember,” Shen Li’s eyes darkened. “Business is like a battlefield—ever-changing. Jiangqing has clawed its way up from the bottom; every opportunity must be cherished.”
Ling Feng stayed silent.
Shen Li closed the files. “Arrange it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ji Zhouye made a soft “hmm,” then hung up. “Not going. Tell Shengyang Group Jiangqing will have no cooperation with them from now on.”
Ling Feng froze, then hurriedly apologized. “Sorry, President Ji, I mistook you for Shen Zong’s… boyfriend.”
He corrected himself: “friend of Shen Zong.”
Ji Zhouye had heard everything.
His gaze fell on Shen Li. “You didn’t tell him?”
Shen Li shrugged. “I did.”
“What did you say?” Ji Zhouye asked.
Shen Li pointed at Ling Feng. “I told him I have a boyfriend.”
Ling Feng looked around nervously. “What are you talking about…”