After leaving the theater, Shen Li deliberately kept a distance from Ji Zhouye.
He realized he couldn’t sleep too soundly at night anymore—otherwise, he might not even wake up whole.
Ji Zhouye noticed him pulling away and reached out, tugging him back. “What are you hiding from?”
“Not hiding.”
Shen Li didn’t want to admit it.
Ji Zhouye could see through his little thoughts. “How was the movie?”
Shen Li pretended to be nonchalant. “Pretty good, just… inhumane. People like that should go to hell.”
He looked at Ji Zhouye seriously. “Don’t commit such cruel acts. Karma will catch up; evildoers will get what they deserve.”
Ji Zhouye didn’t respond. Shen Li watched his expression, unsure if he had even heard him.
“Really?” Ji Zhouye’s lips curved into a teasing smile.
Later, after Shen Li showered and Ji Zhouye entered the bathroom, the more he looked at Ji Zhouye, the more he felt like he was looking at a psychopathic killer on the run.
Especially when Ji Zhouye smiled—it strengthened that thought.
He wanted a cigarette, but only then did he remember Ji Zhouye had confiscated them—treating him like an underage kid.
Shen Li went downstairs and grabbed a beer from the fridge. No cigarette, but at least he could drink.
After finishing the beer, he tossed the empty can into the trash.
Still uneasy, he opened a drawer and took out a pair of scissors, hiding them under his pillow.
Horror movies didn’t scare him—what was frightening was the darkness in human nature.
Late at night, a rustling noise woke Shen Li. He frowned, about to roll over and go back to sleep, then remembered the scissors and instinctively reached under the pillow.
Nothing. The scissors were gone.
He sat up sharply.
The floor lamp flicked on. Ji Zhouye was sitting at the edge of his bed.
Shen Li kicked out instinctively. “Ji Zhouye! What the hell are you doing at my bedside in the middle of the night?!”
Ji Zhouye had just returned from the study. Even being kicked didn’t faze him.
He shook the scissors in his hand. “Why did you put scissors under your pillow?”
Shen Li groaned, grabbing his hair. “Why should I care what I do? Can’t I protect myself from a pervert?”
Interrupted from his sleep, annoyed and groggy, he pulled the blanket over his head and turned away to continue sleeping.
Ji Zhouye yanked the blanket off. “I won’t do anything to you.”
“Thanks a lot,” Shen Li muttered, tugging the blanket but leaving his head uncovered. “Aren’t you sleepy? Why aren’t you sleeping yet?”
“I am.”
Ji Zhouye lay down beside him. Shen Li slid away slightly to keep his distance.
Ji Zhouye turned and forcefully held him close. “No hiding.”
Held in Ji Zhouye’s arms, warmth against his chest, Shen Li felt the familiar breath he once knew.
He fell into thought, realizing he was growing more and more audacious.
Teasing, scolding, kicking—little by little, he returned to the past.
Sleeping together in such a manner felt strange. Ji Zhouye clearly didn’t love him, yet they were doing things only lovers would do.
The moment he agreed to be Ji Zhouye’s lover, he had already prepared himself to be teased and humiliated.
Reality, however, wasn’t that bad. Ji Zhouye treated him well, respected him, and even when kicked, didn’t get angry.
Whether there was any affection mixed in, Shen Li didn’t know—and dared not hope.
If it were him, dealing with someone who once hurt him, he wouldn’t exact revenge perhaps—but he certainly wouldn’t keep them close just to create trouble.
Shen Li stayed still, quietly held in Ji Zhouye’s arms. “If you want revenge, then do it properly—use all your skills. Don’t be nice to me…”
He suspected Ji Zhouye might be using the contrast to take revenge: being nice first, then cruel. From the clouds to the mud in an instant.
Shen Li’s voice grew husky. “I’m afraid that when you get tired of me, you’ll walk away, and I won’t be able to recover.”
In the dim light, Ji Zhouye’s black eyes flickered with an unusual emotion. “Isn’t that the best way to take revenge on someone?”
Shen Li smiled silently. The bitterness in his eyes vanished into the darkness. “Just don’t dismember me—leave me whole, and I’ll thank you.”
He tried to sound casual.
“Do I seem like a psychopathic killer?” Ji Zhouye asked softly.
“Kind of.”
That night, Shen Li had a long dream. He returned to a choice point in his life: break up and go abroad, or stay by Ji Zhouye’s side.
In the dream, he hesitated for a long time but ultimately made the same choice as before.
Break up and go abroad, leaving everything here behind.
No matter how many times this choice appeared, he would always choose to leave.
He wouldn’t gamble on anything uncertain.
The next day, Shen Li had obvious dark circles under his eyes. Ling Feng asked, “Didn’t sleep well?”
“Mm,” Shen Li replied. “The dog kept me awake last night.”
“Dog? Shen Li, you have a dog? I thought someone like you, who can barely take care of himself, wouldn’t own a pet.”
His CEO really had a soft side.
At 4:30 PM, Shen Li left work ten minutes early to pick up Ji Zhouye.
In the parking lot, a man squatted by a Maybach, smoking—clearly waiting for him.
Seeing him, Shen Li radiated pure fury, fists clenched, knuckles white.
The man stood and smiled. “Xiao Li, off work already?”
“Shut your mouth! Don’t call me that!” Shen Li’s eyes blazed with hate.
Seeing Shen Li’s impatience, the man got straight to the point. “I heard Jiangqing Group’s doing well. Give me and your mom some money. We’re family now, right? I’m your stepdad.”
“Zhao Song, you want to die.”
Shen Li grabbed his clothes and unleashed a flurry of punches, blood spilling from his mouth.
Zhao Song felt his teeth loosen.
Zhao Song had been Zhou Lifen’s affair partner. On the day Shen Li’s father had a car accident, Zhou Lifen had been in a hotel room with him.
Shen Li couldn’t understand why Zhou Lifen, a wealthy socialite, would cheat with someone like this.
Shen Li didn’t give Zhao Song a chance to recover, kicking him in the stomach and sending him sprawling.
This wasn’t the first time Shen Li had fought Zhao Song—the first time was after his father’s funeral, in front of Zhou Lifen.
Shen Li had beaten him until he passed out, covered in blood.
Zhou Lifen had called the police. Zhao Song was detained for two days but released because he chose not to press charges.
Zhao Song wiped the blood from his mouth, smiling. “Even if you don’t give me money, I wouldn’t care. Think about your mom—she raised you. Are you really going to ignore her?”
Playing the family card…
Zhao Song hadn’t realized Shen Li wouldn’t fall for it and would hit him even harder.
Finally, the police restrained him, pulling him away. This time, Zhou Lifen called them.
Before being taken away, Shen Li’s eyes still burned with rage, staring coldly at Zhou Lifen standing by the ambulance.
Zhou Lifen felt a chill rise in her heart from that gaze.