As soon as they entered the restaurant, Shen Li spotted Lu Ang sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window. Lu Ang saw him too.
Shen Li noticed that when Lu Ang caught sight of Ji Zhouye beside him, he clearly froze for a moment—while the aura around Ji Zhouye grew even colder.
Shen Li elbowed Ji Zhouye lightly. “Look, he’s seen us. President Ji, your goal’s been achieved. Satisfied now?”
Ji Zhouye didn’t speak. His expression clearly said: I’m not satisfied.
He’d stood Lu Ang up, and now they’d run into him anyway. Out of basic courtesy, Shen Li naturally needed to go over and say hello. He glanced at the difficult man beside him. “You go order first. I’ll go say hi.”
“Not allowed.” Ji Zhouye’s voice was icy.
Others might not be able to tell, but how could he not see Lu Ang’s intentions?
Shen Li raised an eyebrow, smiling in a less-than-serious way. “What, President Ji—are you trying to restrict my personal freedom? Or are you jealous seeing me talk to someone who once pursued me?”
The warm lights of the restaurant fell over Shen Li. His brows carried that familiar roguish smile, and for a split second, Ji Zhouye was dazed—he seemed to see the boy from the past again.
He snapped back quickly. “Jealous? You’re not worthy.”
Ji Zhouye looked straight at him, indifference in his eyes. “If I really wanted to restrict your freedom, you wouldn’t even be able to leave the estate. I’m warning you—don’t provoke me. Just because I’m not limiting you now doesn’t mean I won’t in the future.”
Not even the warm lighting could hide the chill radiating from him.
The smile on Shen Li’s face slowly faded. “Then I should thank you—at least it’s an estate and not some dark, damp basement.”
Ji Zhouye shot him a glance. “If you want, it can be a basement.”
“…Forget I said anything.” Shen Li awkwardly rubbed his nose. “I’ll just say hello—basic courtesy. Future cooperation, that’s all.”
Ji Zhouye didn’t respond. Shen Li took it as tacit consent.
The once high-spirited youth had become smooth and worldly.
Ji Zhouye headed to their reserved table, his gaze never leaving Shen Li.
Shen Li greeted Lu Ang politely. Lu Ang’s expression shifted slightly. “You and Ji Zhouye… are you back together?”
Shen Li instinctively glanced sideways at Ji Zhouye. Their eyes met.
He didn’t know how to answer.
If he said they weren’t together—he was still a lover, seeing each other day and night, sleeping in the same bed.
If he said they were together—he was still just a lover, not someone presentable. It was a transaction, nothing more.
A vague bitterness rose in his chest. He said, “No.”
Lu Ang nodded. “Alright. You go ahead—we’ll meet another day.”
Lu Ang had noticed Ji Zhouye’s gaze fixed in their direction. In Jiangcheng’s business circle, who didn’t know the consequences of offending Ji Zhouye? Not to mention that Ji Zhouye and Shen Li had history—and that Lu Ang had once confessed to Shen Li right in front of Ji Zhouye.
Back then, the gap between Shen Li and Ji Zhouye had been enormous.
Shen Li’s father was still alive. Jiangqing was Jiangcheng’s largest enterprise, and Shen Li was a true young master of a wealthy family.
Meanwhile, Ji Zhouye’s family ran a small company. To ordinary people, he might’ve counted as a minor rich second-generation, but in the business world, JH had been an insignificant nobody.
In just one year, Ji Zhouye had made JH rise to dominance, its position unshakable.
Jiangqing, on the other hand, had fallen from glory to ruin in a single day—the day Shen Li’s father died.
Shen Li sat down across from Ji Zhouye. Ji Zhouye pushed the menu toward him. “What did he say?”
“He asked if we were back together,” Shen Li answered honestly. There was no need to hide it.
“And how did you answer?”
“I said no.”
Ji Zhouye’s expression cooled noticeably. To him, it sounded like Shen Li was giving another man a chance. “Even lovers count as being together.”
Shen Li froze, staring at him in disbelief. “Then should I go tell him now?”
“Remember to say it next time.” Ji Zhouye lifted his chin slightly. “Order.”
Shen Li was still turning Ji Zhouye’s words over in his head. “I’m treating—you order.”
“No need.”
In the end, Shen Li ordered several dishes Ji Zhouye used to like, unsure if his tastes had changed.
He still remembered. The food, the person—he hadn’t forgotten either.
Ji Zhouye’s past kindness toward him was something he couldn’t bear to forget.
After Shen Li finished, Ji Zhouye took the menu and added two dishes Shen Li liked.
Shen Li didn’t even realize it himself—everything he’d ordered was what Ji Zhouye used to like. Not a single dish was something Shen Li preferred.
Without noticing, his feelings had been laid bare.
“Shen Li,” Ji Zhouye called.
Shen Li looked up, waiting.
After a moment’s thought, Ji Zhouye said, “I’ll give you another five billion. Give me twenty percent of Jiangqing’s shares.”
Shen Li didn’t understand why Ji Zhouye wanted shares in Jiangqing. “You don’t need to give me the money. I’ll give you the shares.”
Without Ji Zhouye, Jiangqing would’ve likely already declared bankruptcy. Shares were nothing in comparison—he was willing.
Part of why he stayed by Ji Zhouye’s side as a lover was the threat hanging over Jiangqing; another part was his own desire to stay.
Ji Zhouye was slightly surprised by how readily he agreed.
He was deliberately creating ties between them. With Shen Li’s abilities, the ten billion would be paid back before long. Once it was, they might truly have nothing to do with each other anymore.
Shares were different. As long as he held them, there would always be a bond.
Unless he no longer wanted Shen Li—otherwise, Shen Li would never escape him.
On the day Shen Li’s father died, Zhou Lifen had been deceived by a man and transferred away most of Jiangqing’s assets. After his father’s death, the shareholders had all run off with the money.
Now, Jiangqing was entirely under Shen Li’s control. “I’ll bring the contract and shares back tomorrow.”
“I’ll go to your company tomorrow,” Ji Zhouye said.
Shen Li nodded.
Contracts should be signed properly, after all.
After hesitating a few seconds, Shen Li still asked, “If this were Jiangqing in its prime, you’d at least be after profit. But Jiangqing now—what are you after?”
He looked at Ji Zhouye seriously, trying to catch even the slightest crack in his expression, to see if he’d imagined everything.
“To humiliate you,” Ji Zhouye said coldly.
It felt like a bucket of cold water poured over Shen Li.
He smiled. Saying it didn’t hurt would be a lie, but his tone remained flippant. “Then President Ji, hurry up and use whatever methods you’ve got. Right now, the thing I fear least is being humiliated.”
He shrugged. “Compared to having no money, everything else is nothing.”
Ji Zhouye just looked at him, silent—his heart pierced as if by a thorn.
He wanted Shen Li to be like this, yet he feared him being like this.
He didn’t want Shen Li to live well, yet he was afraid of him living poorly.
Ji Zhouye was both angry and helpless. His voice was harsh. “You were short on money—what were you doing earlier? I was right there. If you’d come to me, I’d have given you however much you wanted.”
As long as Shen Li came.
Whether he begged or not didn’t really matter.