Sheng Mingzhi glared at the chat history Lu Jiayan had sent him, swallowing his indignation and letting out a long, slow breath.
He stared expressionlessly out the car window at the Jinmao International Building passing by—it was a wedding gift from Old Master Lu when he married Lu Jiayan. The International Building was located in Yunjing’s prime real estate, a soaring, magnificent skyscraper that touched the clouds.
Alright, look at it twice.
Anger subsided.
Sheng Mingzhi put on his professional “business” fake smile and began typing sinisterly into the chat box with full force:
“Dear, I must ask, which optical shop sold you such a giant lens cloth? Are you planning to keep it as your own shroud in the future?”
Before he could finish the line, the WeChat status showed the other party was typing. A message arrived faster than his.
Lu Jiayan: 【Regardless, it looks good.】
Sheng Mingzhi froze mid-typing. He stared at those words as if he’d seen a ghost. He couldn’t imagine this sharp-tongued, arrogant young master saying something so nice. He had once suspected that “complimentary” root words simply didn’t exist in Lu Jiayan’s dictionary.
He clicked on the photo he had taken at the beach. After admiring it for two seconds, he thought: Well, his nonsense is technically factual. I am very good-looking. I guess some ivory can actually come out of a dog’s mouth.
The phone vibrated again. Lu Jiayan’s next message appeared.
【But don’t post things like that next time.】
A few seconds later, the other party continued leisurely and rightfully: 【Or, just send them privately to me.】
Sheng Mingzhi: 【…】
Oh.
Who do you think you are, teaching me how to do things?
Why should I send them to you? Because my clothes use as much fabric as your lens cloth?
He grumbled internally, but his finger paused over the screen. The next second, as if possessed, Sheng Mingzhi switched pages and hid that nine-grid Hawaii beach post from his Moments, setting it to “Private.”
After the Maybach drove smoothly for another ten minutes, Sheng Mingzhi picked up the phone again and changed “Private” to “Only Visible to Lu Jiayan.”
Having done this, Sheng Mingzhi sighed and thought rigorously: Since Lu Jiayan pulled Qiao Yan’s movies and endorsements, it’s not like I can’t generously fulfill his tiny little wish.
________________________________________
It was nearly 10:00 PM when Sheng Mingzhi returned home. No. 1 Xishan was as quiet as an oil painting. Even after half a month, it still reminded him of the day he “died socially.”
Walking through the front yard, he immediately noticed something different. A luxury car that should have been parked in the garage was sitting abruptly to the left of the main entrance. It was brand new, a car Sheng Mingzhi had never seen before.
He had a sudden premonition.
The underground garage at No. 1 Xishan had more luxury cars than he could count on twenty fingers, but this one was clearly the Lamborghini he had coveted for a long time. A private custom edition, with a license plate featuring the initials of his name.
Market price: 60 million yuan.
His gaze locked for ten seconds. Sheng Mingzhi struggled to tear his eyes away from the car body.
Heh. What does he take me for? Am I the kind of man who is easily bought with money? If Lu Jiayan sincerely wants to apologize, he needs to kowtow at least twice before I grudgingly give him a chance to turn over a new leaf.
This firm resolve wavered slightly the moment he stepped inside and saw a Patek Philippe custom watch sitting on the living room table. The deep blue mechanical dial was engraved with the sun and moon, clearly a nod to his name (Mingzhi/Light).
Market price: 20,000,000 yuan.
At that moment, Lu Jiayan turned around at the kitchen island, holding a bowl of freshly made, steaming soup. His eyes met Sheng Mingzhi’s in the living room.
…
…
The atmosphere grew subtly awkward.
Lu Jiayan stood in a relaxed posture, raising an eyebrow as he surveyed his spouse, whom he hadn’t seen in half a month. Sheng Mingzhi was wearing a camel-colored trench coat today, the belt cinching his waist tightly. He looked as exquisite and expensive as ever, radiating an aura of “I am currently very difficult to deal with” from his very bones.
However, just as Lu Jiayan prepared to spend the whole night negotiating with this little ancestor, the ancestor blinked and spoke with natural, harmless sweetness: “Jiayan-ge.”
The last time he had called him “Jiayan-ge” was three years ago, when Sheng Mingzhi wanted a yacht worth 500 million USD.
Yet, this address reminded Lu Jiayan of Sheng Mingzhi’s youth. Back then, the little ancestor hadn’t developed this arrogant temper. He used to follow him around, obediently calling him “Brother Jiayan,” quiet and well-behaved.
Lu Jiayan’s eyebrows shot up higher. Acting sweet for no reason. He’s either up to no good or wants something.
The little ancestor pointed at the watch on the table. “Is this for me?”
Lu Jiayan leaned against the island and said slowly, “No.”
Sheng Mingzhi didn’t care about the answer at all. He picked up the watch with practiced ease and said in a fake, monotonous, mechanical voice: “Great. I knew you bought it for me. Thank you, Jiayan-ge. I like it very much, so I forgive you.”
The sarcasm was thick enough to choke a horse. He was trying his best to annoy the “old man” to death.
Sheng Mingzhi was clearly enamored with the new watch, gesturing with it on his wrist for a long time, not giving Lu Jiayan a single glance. It wasn’t until Lu Jiayan set the food down and tapped the table that he said, “Can we talk?”
Sheng Mingzhi snapped out of it, looking confused. Their “plastic” marriage was built on a foundation of vulgar wealth. Now that the money was in place and Sheng Mingzhi had magnanimously forgiven Lu Jiayan’s “infidelity,” they could go back to pretending and stretch out this precarious married life a bit longer.
What was there to talk about?
His face clearly said: I don’t have a single word to say to you.
Lu Jiayan continued, “Do you have nothing you want to say to me?”
Sheng Mingzhi paused. “I said it already.” For the sake of the Patek Philippe, he repeated it with “mercy”: “Thank you.”
A “thank you” bought for 80 million was truly moving.
Lu Jiayan nodded. “You’re welcome. You should thank me.”
Sheng Mingzhi: “…”
Just die already, you dog of a man.
Give him an inch and he takes a mile.
Sheng Mingzhi felt the mood that had just been soothed by 80 million being set ablaze again by Lu Jiayan. Just as he was about to blow his top and start a fight, he heard Lu Jiayan speak:
“Mingzhi.”
Rarely, he didn’t use his full name. Sheng Mingzhi’s breath hitched; he could almost hear his heart thumping against his eardrums.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware of the Qiao Yan situation. I went to the Haicheng Film Festival the day I landed specifically to pick you up.”
The room became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Sheng Mingzhi’s expression suddenly turned to one of pure shock, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. This wasn’t the reaction Lu Jiayan expected.
Given Sheng Mingzhi’s prideful nature, he figured the boy would care most about the scandal hurting his “face” and making him look like a fool. Now that he’d explained it, shouldn’t he be satisfied?
But what was with this expression? Was what he said that surprising?
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Sheng Mingzhi said slowly after a long pause. He completely missed the point and said in shock: “I didn’t know the word ‘sorry’ was in your vocabulary.”
He thought an arrogant, toxic, overbearing CEO like Lu Jiayan only knew phrases like “Are you satisfied with what you see?” or “Heh, man, you’ve successfully caught my attention.”
Lu Jiayan: “…”
So, Qiao Yan really did lose his endorsements and movie because of Lu Jiayan.
Sheng Mingzhi felt a surge of secret satisfaction, but kept his face neutral. He hummed and said with “noble coldness”: “Since you’ve apologized, I’ll grudgingly accept your apology gift.”
Is that so? You don’t look very ‘grudging’ at all.
Lu Jiayan reflexively wanted to snap back, but remembered how hard it had been to coax the little ancestor. He swallowed his words and put on a refined smile.
That fake, “gentlemanly” expression made Sheng Mingzhi want to roll his eyes. Stop acting, bro. Who are you putting on a show for in private? The Oscars aren’t giving you Best Actor, thank you.
However, the power of 80 million was not to be underestimated. Coupled with the fact that a starving Sheng Mingzhi got to eat a midnight snack personally prepared by President Lu, the little ancestor ignored the nauseating smile. His heart and body were both very comfortable.
An hour later, Sheng Mingzhi had completely forgotten their conflict and ran out excitedly to test his new Lamborghini. Of course, the most important part was taking a hundred photos to post on Weibo for a massive flex.
Lu Jiayan, being the one “in debt,” was reduced to a photography tool—a very handsome selfie stick.
Finally, a month after Lu Jiayan’s return, the two shared a rare moment of peace. Looking at his “cheap” lover taking photos of him, Sheng Mingzhi even had the illusion that living like this wasn’t so bad.
After all, Lu Jiayan was rich, handsome, and lived a clean life; his romantic history before marriage was a blank slate. Although he was toxic most of the time, it made his rare moments of tenderness feel precious. Sheng Mingzhi had almost forgotten the last time Lu Jiayan looked this gentle; when he retracted his cold, unapproachable aura, he looked like a normal “brother next door.”
However, all of this was completely shattered the moment he saw the photos Lu Jiayan had taken.
Sheng Mingzhi stared expressionlessly at the “one-meter-four” version of himself in the photo, then deleted and permanently destroyed it. You’d need a decade of brain clots to take a photo with such atrocious aesthetics.
How could I have thought living with Lu Jiayan was okay?! My brain must have been leaking earlier.
Divorce.
We truly cannot go on.
Lu Jiayan still didn’t understand why Sheng Mingzhi, who was in a great mood a second ago, suddenly had a black face, ditched him, and went upstairs. The door slammed so hard the sound echoed through No. 1 Xishan. It told Lu Jiayan very clearly: his young lover was furious.
Not only that, Lu Jiayan decided to “humbly ask for guidance.” At midnight, he sent Sheng Mingzhi a WeChat: 【What happened?】
Sheng Mingzhi was practically laughing from rage. What happened?! You have the nerve to ask?!
What happened is that my 180cm self was shot by you to look like 140cm!
【I thank you.】 Sheng Mingzhi replied through gritted teeth: 【My 180cm height was turned into 140cm by your camera.】
【?】
【180cm?】
Lu Jiayan’s reply carried deep suspicion and a hint of mockery. Especially that question mark—it made Sheng Mingzhi experience the morning’s rage all over again.
Lu Jiayan typed slowly: 【How did you measure that? With your naked eye?】
“Who cares how I measured it!” Sheng Mingzhi felt the shame of being exposed and sent a voice message: “Your photography is hideous.”
Lu Jiayan actually had the nerve to reason with him: “Sheng Mingzhi, theoretically speaking, I am half a head taller than you. Shooting from my perspective will naturally produce that effect.”
Sheng Mingzhi was too angry to talk. He lay in bed, his mind full of plans for the divorce and asset division. Just as he thought Lu Jiayan wouldn’t reply, another message came.
【Send me a copy of the photos we took tonight.】
The photos were on Sheng Mingzhi’s phone. If they were beautiful, he’d be happy to share. But allowing a “one-meter-four” photo to fall into someone else’s hands? He’d rather die.
Sheng Mingzhi sneered and barked: 【Why should I send them to you? Don’t you know a handsome man’s photos are a treasure for all of humanity? Looking at them can extend one’s lifespan.】
After a while, Lu Jiayan replied idly: 【Didn’t someone complain that I was old? It’s the perfect time for me to look more and extend my life.】
Sheng Mingzhi: “…”
Looking at those ugly photos will only shorten your life, thank you.