Outside Jiangqing Tower, the sounds of police cars and ambulances mixed together.
When Ling Feng hurried down, he happened to see Shen Li being taken away by the police. Catching sight of Zhou Lifen as well, he immediately had an idea of what had happened.
He wanted to intervene but was stopped by the officers.
Once the vehicles left, the area returned to quiet. Ling Feng couldn’t do anything—he would still be blocked by the police if he tried to step forward, let alone rush to the station to get Shen Li out.
Thinking of someone, Ling Feng called.
“Boss Ji, Mr. Shen has been taken by the police…”
Shen Li left the police station around 7 PM. The sky was darkening but not fully night yet.
He walked with his head lowered, following Ji Zhouye.
Ji Zhouye didn’t ask what happened, and Shen Li didn’t volunteer.
Some matters didn’t need to be stated; they both understood without words. Ji Zhouye let him keep his dignity.
When Ji Zhouye stopped to wait, Shen Li approached him. “Sorry… and thank you.”
“Why are you apologizing?”
Ji Zhouye lowered his gaze.
Shen Li dared not meet his eyes. “For not picking you up on time and for causing you trouble.”
Ji Zhouye tore open a band-aid and placed it over the wound on Shen Li’s hand.
Shen Li hadn’t even noticed when he got hurt, and it hadn’t hurt at the time. Now, the slight sting made him flinch.
Lowering his head like a child being scolded, Shen Li’s lashes trembled. “I didn’t do anything wrong, Ji Zhouye. I really didn’t.”
“Did he often harass you?” Ji Zhouye asked.
The two of them stood facing each other.
Shen Li looked down, avoiding Ji Zhouye’s eyes for fear of seeing contempt. “No… just this once.”
Ji Zhouye hadn’t investigated Shen Li’s family deeply but knew enough—Shen Li didn’t act violently without reason. Even if provoked, he could ignore it. Unless someone crossed his bottom line.
Ji Zhouye didn’t scold him or pry into the details. He simply drove him to dinner.
During the meal, Shen Li ordered quite a bit of alcohol.
He had no appetite, not wanting to eat at all, but under Ji Zhouye’s commanding gaze, he took a few bites and then drank.
Even drinking, Ji Zhouye would sneak vegetables onto his plate; he had to eat them or face a threatening glance.
After the meal, Shen Li felt drunk and woozy, wanting to lean on Ji Zhouye but afraid to.
Sometimes he was truly timid, other times mischievously audacious—asking for trouble. “Ji Zhouye, I’m drunk. Can I… do whatever I want tonight?”
Ji Zhouye held him as they walked to the parking lot. “Whatever do you want?”
“Hold you, kiss you, sleep with you.” Shen Li had indeed drunk a lot—he would never say this sober. “You’ve slept at my place so many times. Sleeping at yours once isn’t too much, right?”
Ji Zhouye guided the drunk man into the passenger seat, leaning in to fasten the seatbelt. “Fine. We’ll sleep as soon as we get home.”
“Just to be clear—what happens tonight has nothing to do with tomorrow’s Shen Li.”
Ji Zhouye laughed, exasperated. “You just want to act like a rogue and not take responsibility?”
Shen Li grabbed his arm, eyebrows furrowed in a pout. “It’s not that I don’t want to take responsibility. You don’t like me… Ji Zhouye, do you hate me?”
Ji Zhouye’s eyes lowered, emotion unreadable.
“Why aren’t you speaking? Am I right?”
“Shen Li… you don’t understand anything.”
“I don’t? Then tell me, and I’ll understand.” Shen Li tilted his head up. “Ji Zhouye, you can’t speak, right? You really can’t.”
Drunk Shen Li was unusually talkative.
“Who can’t speak? I don’t want to talk to a drunk,” Ji Zhouye said, closing the car door and moving to the driver’s seat.
As soon as he got in, Shen Li unbuckled, leaned over, and wrapped his arms around Ji Zhouye’s neck, pressing his forehead against his chin. “Hug me first.”
Ji Zhouye didn’t move, letting him cling, and let out a soft laugh at the thought of how Shen Li would deny it in the morning.
After a while, the person in his arms went still. Ji Zhouye looked down; Shen Li’s eyes were closed, hands still gripping his waist.
He watched him like this for a long moment before gently removing his hands and placing him back in the passenger seat, fastening the seatbelt.
The twenty-minute ride passed. When they arrived at the estate and the car stopped, Shen Li woke up.
He was drunk but not entirely. He knew everything he had said and done—and would remember it tomorrow.
He had done it deliberately.
Only at such moments would Ji Zhouye be gentle with him, just like before.
He didn’t know if this gentleness carried other motives—or if Ji Zhouye just didn’t feel like arguing with a drunk.
Ji Zhouye showing up at the police station surprised him.
Even if he hadn’t come, in a few days Zhou Lifen would have threatened him with a settlement to get money.
If he refused, Zhou Lifen would have gotten Zhao Song to reconcile actively.
Zhou Lifen was ruthless but not ruthless enough—Shen Li was still her son.
She just loved herself and her lover more, and calling the police was merely a lesson, a way to temper Shen Li’s anger.
Shen Li had only been harsh toward Zhao Song and her.
No one hates someone for no reason.
Shen Li showered, and Ji Zhouye had already finished and was leaning by the bed, looking at his phone, hair still damp.
Shen Li found it odd—Ji Zhouye usually waited for him. Today, he had been faster.
Shen Li went to sit on the other side of the bed.
“Looking at your phone?” Ji Zhouye asked.
Shen Li picked up the phone on the nightstand. A verification message popped up, the profile picture of an Alaskan Malamute, nickname just a single letter: “Y.”
He glanced at Ji Zhouye.
Ji Zhouye tapped the screen to dismiss it. “Not adding?”
He didn’t refuse—he wanted to, more than anything. Even in his dreams.
Before going abroad, his number had been frozen by Zhou Lifen; WeChat was inaccessible. After going abroad, he got a new number and registered again.
He remembered Ji Zhouye’s number clearly but didn’t add him at the time—already broken up, he had neither the face nor the reason to disturb his life.
In this fast-paced world, he thought he could endure alone. If he didn’t interfere, Ji Zhouye would forget him soon enough.
That’s what he had thought back then.
The friend request went through.
Ji Zhouye’s phone chimed. He looked at the screen and casually asked, “Do you like dogs?”
Looking at the avatar, Shen Li whispered, “I do.”
The dog in the profile wasn’t a stock image—he guessed it was Ji Zhouye’s own. “What’s its name?”
“Shenli.”
Shen Li’s heart thumped wildly.
Ji Zhouye had a dog—and named it Shenli.
Shenli… and Shen Li?
Who names their pet like that?