Lu Jiayan looked at him.
Sheng Mingzhi silently averted his gaze.
The living room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. The two of them remained in this eerie silence for a while until, finally, Lu Jiayan couldn’t hold it in any longer.
The man covered his face and let out a stifled laugh. He sank back into the sofa, looking as if he had no bones, leaning back lazily and laughing somewhat arrogantly.
Sheng Mingzhi’s ears gradually turned crimson. His skin was porcelain-white, so the blush was particularly obvious.
Lu Jiayan laughed for a long time, becoming increasingly insolent. Eventually, he was doubled over with laughter, to the point where Sheng Mingzhi could no longer save face. He turned to Lu Jiayan, his young master temper about to flare up.
However, before he could stage a scene of “turning shame into anger,” his eyes met Lu Jiayan’s peach-blossom eyes. The usual layer of aloofness was completely gone, replaced by a touch of gentleness.
Sheng Mingzhi dithered for a moment, nearly enchanted by the man’s beauty. He quickly steadied himself, acting emboldened even though he lacked a reason: “What’s so funny?”
At the same time, he felt a moment of self-loathing. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Lu Jiayan’s face before; what was there to be stunned by? He thought it over and, feeling indignant, cursed in his head: Male fox spirit!
Lu Jiayan laughed enough before speaking, his tone still carrying a trace of mirth: “I didn’t think it was funny.”
Not even a ghost would believe that. He paused and teased, “I just didn’t expect that you’d have a day where you’ve grown up and become sensible.”
Sheng Mingzhi: “…”
Who are you calling a child?
He gritted his teeth and replied with a saccharine smile: “Don’t be too moved. It’s only right for me to show respect to my elders.”
As he sniped back, Sheng Mingzhi pulled the luxury goods out of the bags, filling the table with a dazzling array of items.
Lu Jiayan ignored the attack on his age. He casually picked up an exaggerated, rock-style skull necklace and raised an eyebrow: “This is also to ‘respect your elders’?”
Sheng Mingzhi froze, cursing Qiao Yan’s trash taste in his heart. How did such a weird “shamate” (punk/goth) necklace get mixed in there? Looking at the dog-man Lu Jiayan’s expression, he seemed to already be mocking Sheng Mingzhi’s aesthetic.
“Oh. This style is popular right now,” Sheng Mingzhi forcefully distorted the truth, speaking with a straight face. “Don’t you think it suits you? Wearing it can help you ‘de-age,’ dear. It’ll let you perfectly blend into the world of young people.”
“De-age?” Lu Jiayan gave a dry laugh. “More like ‘de-life.'”
He shook his head with a chuckle. The style of the accessories on the table was nothing like Sheng Mingzhi’s usual taste. After all, this little ancestor was the type who would pick out the prettiest-looking leaves even when just eating a vegetable dish.
Of course, Lu Jiayan didn’t ask what kind of madness had possessed him to buy a pile of ugly things. It was safe to say that since they were this ugly, Sheng Mingzhi definitely hadn’t bought them willingly.
The man put down the “age-reducing” skull necklace and prepared to go upstairs to wash up.
In the next second, Sheng Mingzhi suddenly called out: “Wait.”
What does he mean? Lu Jiayan is just leaving like that?
Sheng Mingzhi felt a bit uncomfortable. After all, there was a tie in there that he had actually put effort into picking. He hesitated for a moment and muttered, “…Did you not like a single one of them?”
Lu Jiayan glanced casually at the table. Aside from that tie, which was passable, the rest were ugly in their own unique ways. He spoke slowly and coolly, “I’d like to live a few more dignified years.”
Sheng Mingzhi: “…”
You’re already dead to me.
Sheng Mingzhi thought he must have had a brain cramp to buy a tie for this “old dog” Lu Jiayan on a whim. What did he need a tie for? He only deserved a hemp rope around his neck to hang himself!
________________________________________
For the next three days, Sheng Mingzhi didn’t say a single word to Lu Jiayan.
Coincidentally, he had a few appointments to keep. He flew to Guangzhou to record a variety show for four days. Additionally, a web drama he had filmed previously was airing. Although his role wasn’t major, he still had to accompany the crew to various promotional events.
Sheng Mingzhi had one defining trait: though his young master temper was ill-suited for the entertainment industry, he was very serious about his work—seriously a flop, the kind where the harder he worked, the unluckier he got.
A week later, Lu Jiayan finally snapped out of it and realized he hadn’t seen the little ancestor for a long time. Without a “sparrow” chirping in his ear, he suddenly felt a bit unaccustomed.
Lu Jiayan prepared to send a WeChat message, only to discover he had been blacklisted.
…
Very sudden.
After a moment, Lu Jiayan stared at the piercing red exclamation mark in the chat box. Rubbing his brow, he called Yao Shen in.
“Go check the spending records of the Second Young Master at Yunting Plaza from a week ago.”
Not long after the order was given, a surveillance video was handed to Lu Jiayan. Ever since Yao Shen’s major blunder last time, he had become increasingly cautious and attentive to his boss’s needs. Not only did he find the footage, but he also vividly described everything that happened that day, word for word.
How Sheng Mingzhi took a fancy to that tie, how Qiao Yan provoked him, and how the former bought every ugly thing the latter liked in a fit of rage.
By the end of the recount, Yao Shen was so immersed he said indignantly, “Qiao Yan isn’t even fit to be compared to the Second Young Master. He should look in a mirror.”
As soon as he said it, Yao Shen realized he had overstepped and quickly glanced at his boss. Fortunately, Lu Jiayan was merely lost in thought and didn’t rebuke him.
Yao Shen breathed a sigh of relief: It seems President Lu agrees! The rumors among Yunjing’s upper class about a “marriage of convenience” must be fake; the boss clearly cares quite a bit.
After a while, Lu Jiayan spoke: “You said Sheng Mingzhi personally picked out a tie?”
Yao Shen nodded. “It appeared to be a gift for you.”
The CEO’s office fell into a brief silence. A certain someone had seemingly realized the reason he was blacklisted.
Finally, Lu Jiayan said indifferently, “Before the reporter from Southwest Finance arrives for the interview this afternoon, prepare a new suit for me.”
Yao Shen nodded quickly. Suddenly, he had an epiphany. He said intuitively, “President Lu, would you like to pair it with a tie clip or a specific necktie?”
“Didn’t Sheng Mingzhi buy a tie and leave it at home?” Lu Jiayan closed the file and said noncommittally, “Let’s use that one.”
________________________________________
Southwest Finance was currently the most authoritative financial magazine in the country. Founded in 1946, it possessed deep cultural roots and a powerful background.
A month before Lu Jiayan returned to the country, the editor-in-chief had approached him, hoping to secure his first exclusive domestic interview. He was to be the cover figure for the year-end issue, occupying an entire section.
Given the prestige, Lu Jiayan had no reason to refuse; it was also a way for him to establish his authority in the domestic capital market.
The person interviewing Lu Jiayan was the deputy editor-in-chief, Qiao Yu. The interview was set for forty minutes. Before coming, Qiao Yu had made full preparations. To win this opportunity, she had spent a month constantly revising the questions and script, preparing until 1 AM every day. She had memorized simulations for every possible sudden situation or counter-question.
As the youngest female deputy editor-in-chief in the history of Southwest Finance, Qiao Yu was not yet thirty—surprisingly young. Because of this, she was extra cautious, ensuring not a single mistake was made lest someone find leverage against her.
But the moment she first saw Lu Jiayan, she lost her focus for a brief moment.
As a titan in the capital world, Lu Jiayan’s name was legendary in finance, but since he lived abroad for years, few had seen him in person. Before the interview, Qiao Yu had searched for his photos online with a stroke of luck; other than a blurry silhouette from his “wedding of the century” with the Mingchen Bank’s young master, he was hidden away perfectly.
She never expected the current person in power at Shengjia to be so young and so handsome. He was like a CEO stepped straight out of a romance novel.
After a few seconds of daze, Qiao Yu snapped out of it under the introduction of the Chief of Staff, a hint of bashfulness flashing across her face. She quickly adjusted her state and entered work mode.
Lu Jiayan’s interview was divided into three parts. The first two were strictly business, focusing on Shengjia’s future market development and content layout, including internal reforms and transitions. Qiao Yu had rehearsed these thousands of times, so the first half-hour went smoothly, passing quickly in a serious and tense atmosphere.
The remaining ten minutes were more lifestyle-oriented, revolving around Lu Jiayan personally. Of course, while they were “private questions,” they had been strictly vetted by Shengjia’s administrative department. Given Lu Jiayan’s status, it was impossible for him to reveal his true private life.
As the interview reached its end, Lu Jiayan remained polite, refined, and steady, though his aura of authority remained undiminished and his distance maintained.
Perhaps his gentle restraint gave Qiao Yu an illusion, as she subconsciously said, “As far as we know, you married the young son of Mingchen Bank three years ago. Would you be comfortable sharing something about your spouse and family with us?”
As soon as the question was tossed out, Lu Jiayan’s brow twitched slightly. This question was clearly outside the interview outline. Qiao Yu was a bit surprised at herself for saying it.
But the question wasn’t too over the line; even if Lu Jiayan refused to answer, it wouldn’t have a huge impact. Of course, if he did answer, it would be the perfect finishing touch for the article.
However, the only thing that answered Qiao Yu was ten seconds of silence from Lu Jiayan.
To Qiao Yu, those ten seconds felt like ten years. From the first second of silence, she felt she had misspoke, and cold sweat instantly drenched her back. Just when the low pressure in the reception room reached a boiling point she could no longer bear, Lu Jiayan spoke nonchalantly.
“Miss Qiao.” His voice was still deep. “Do you think my tie looks good today?”
Qiao Yu froze. She never expected Lu Jiayan to give such an irrelevant, non-sequitur answer. Her mind went blank for a moment, having no idea how to respond.
What does he mean? …I didn’t realize President Lu was so vain?
In the next second, Lu Jiayan let out a soft chuckle. From the start of the interview until now, this was the first time Qiao Yu saw a completely unguarded smile on this man’s face. He even carried a hint of indulgence that he himself seemed unaware of, as he said slowly:
“My spouse gave it to me.”
Qiao Yu: “…”
Is it an illusion? Why do I inexplicably hear a tone of showing off and bragging?