Lin Ruohuai stole a quick glance at the device that was still connected to the call, not daring to say a word. Silently, he resumed massaging the muscles of Shen Qi’s right leg—it was still as stiff as a board.
Shen Qi didn’t speak either. He allowed Lin Ruohuai’s hands to move over the muscles of the only leg he could feel; the tension there only seemed to harden further.
Lin Ruohuai didn’t dare touch it anymore. He felt as if something eerie was hidden beneath the fabric of the sweater, something about to burst forth. His sixth sense told him he shouldn’t continue downward.
Shen Qi looked into his eyes, his face expressionless, though a tiny ripple stirred in his heart. You can’t even eat apples unless they are sweet and crunchy, and your fingers hurt just from giving a massage—what can you actually do?
Did you think this was Xie Yusheng’s territory?
Did you think he would pamper you, indulge you, and accommodate you?
Shen Qi’s aura remained unchanged. Lin Ruohuai looked up at him like a small animal, seemingly waiting for the next command.
In a moment like this, it would have been appropriate to pat his head. But in every sense—and given their status—it was inappropriate.
Shen Qi spoke slowly: “Does your hand still hurt?”
Lin Ruohuai froze for a moment before sharing his thoughts: “It’s okay, it’ll be fine in a bit. But does this usually happen to you? Dr. Wang never mentioned it. Is it because you’ve been sitting for too long?”
Shen Qi didn’t answer him. Just as he was about to speak, the manager on the screen was replaced by Assistant Lin, with a large group of people behind him.
Taking the opportunity, Shen Qi told him to leave and take the sliced fruit with him to finish it himself.
Lin Ruohuai blinked: “You’re not eating?”
Uncle Chen said he bought these specifically for you.
Shen Qi turned his microphone back on: “I don’t like them.”
Downstairs, Lin Ruohuai rushed straight to the back garden to report to the old butler who was supervising the work: “Mr. Shen said he doesn’t like them; he told me to finish them myself.”
Uncle Chen’s expression didn’t change, his aura restrained and composed. He said without hesitation, “Then you eat them.”
Uncle Chen smiled: “The apples in the back garden were too sour. From now on, we’ll buy bigger, sweeter ones.”
Lin Ruohuai gave a candid smile: “Thank you, Uncle Chen.”
Uncle Chen smiled but said nothing more.
With nothing left to do, Lin Ruohuai walked toward the back while eating from the plate. He looked at Uncle Chen’s retreating back and then, struck by a sudden intuition, looked up toward the upper floor.
Red apples. Shen Qi doesn’t like them.
But they were bought anyway. Every single day.
Lin Ruohuai watched quietly and ate quietly, pretending he knew nothing.
Lin Ruohuai delivered lunch, but he wasn’t allowed into the study. Shen Qi was still working, so Lin Ruohuai had to leave the food in the small side lounge and wait there.
Standing with his hands behind his back, Lin Ruohuai wandered over to a small bookshelf. He paused, then pulled a book from one of the rows. It was a cookbook.
Shen Qi really does like cooking.
Holy crap, then why is his cooking so terrible?
Lin Ruohuai flipped through a page and found a sticky note inside with Shen Qi’s handwriting. The script was elegant and fluid, like water in a spring river.
— Why is it said that adding salt makes it tasty? I believe adding sugar is better.
Lin Ruohuai uttered a mental “uh…” and flipped to another page.
— Simmering for ten minutes isn’t enough to cook through or absorb flavor. One should stir-fry for ten minutes, then simmer for ten minutes until it reaches a sticky, burnt-to-the-pan state. Only then, add salt for the best taste.
“…”
That’s just burning it, big brother!
Lin Ruohuai finally understood why Shen Qi’s cooking was so bad. Other people use cookbooks to follow steps; he uses them to break the rules.
He picked up another book on desserts. Shen Qi probably hadn’t had time to flip through it yet as the cover was brand new, but there was a sticky note on the first page. It looked like a recent addition, written in calligraphy, carrying a different vibe.
— Don’t bite the ice cubes.
The old butler had mentioned that Shen Qi often gets immersed in his own world, and someone needs to make a noise to remind him of the time.
Lin Ruohuai knocked twice—one light, one heavy. Just as he thought Shen Qi wouldn’t respond, the door opened.
Shen Qi raised an eyebrow slightly: “You’re the one delivering the food.”
“Yes, it’s me,” Lin Ruohuai added, “It’ll be me from now on.”
Shen Qi sat in his wheelchair at the doorway without moving. Lin Ruohuai went behind him to push him to the dining table. The food was packed in insulated containers and was still warm.
Shen Qi’s dark pupils moved slightly as he repeated in a low voice: “It’ll be you from now on.”
Lin Ruohuai sat familiarly in the seat next to him and replied with great patience: “Right, it’s always me. Hurry and eat, I’ve already opened the containers, they’ll really get cold.”
A silence followed. The two locked eyes, and neither spoke.
A bizarre thought popped into Lin Ruohuai’s head: Does Shen Qi want me to feed him…? Just then, the phone in his pocket suddenly rang.
He took it out in front of Shen Qi. It was a call from Xie Yusheng.
Shen Qi’s gaze swept over for a few seconds before he picked up his chopsticks to eat, nonchalantly telling Lin Ruohuai to go out and answer it, as he needed quiet.
Even without him saying so, Lin Ruohuai would have found an excuse to step out. He couldn’t possibly talk to Xie Yusheng in front of Shen Qi—it would blow his cover.
Lin Ruohuai didn’t even answer on the top floor; he returned to his own room before calling back.
Lin Ruohuai spoke naturally: “Brother, why are you calling me at this time?”
The subtext was: Shouldn’t you be dealing with the mess between you and Shen Qingyi? The two of us eyesore supporting characters aren’t even near you guys anymore.
“You changed your number before. Someone couldn’t find you and asked me to bridge the connection,” Xie Yusheng said, getting straight to the point.
For the past few days, Lin Ruohuai had been living like a hermit in the mountains, knowing nothing of the outside world. He was already confused about the original owner’s situation, and now he was even more bewildered.
“Who’s looking for me?”
“Someone from the An family. You should call him ‘Uncle’.”
Lin Ruohuai dug out his old phone and old number. Only then did he find information about this so-called Uncle, An Jiayun, from the scattered clues.
An Jiayun had been a gambler in his early years. After selling his shares in the Lin Group, he was sent abroad by Lin’s mother (the original owner’s mother). Somehow, he managed to suppress his gambling addiction. After the Lin Group collapsed, he came back to help and lent a sum of money.
Now, he was here to collect the debt.
Lin Ruohuai was stunned. The original owner was actually buried in debt? How could he be this miserable?
And now, that misery was his.
He wasn’t sure if this uncle was easy to talk to. He currently had just over a hundred thousand in total, and he hadn’t even received his first paycheck yet.
Using Xie Yusheng as a go-between, An Jiayun sent a message telling him to meet at a café on Binhai Road tomorrow; they needed to calculate the interest from the past few years.
“…”
Charging interest? He’s basically a loan shark.
An Jiayun wasn’t worried about him not showing up, even claiming he had the IOU in hand: “If you don’t come, I’ll see you in court.”
What a mess!
Meeting him wasn’t the hard part; the hard part was that leaving the house required asking for leave. He only now realized that this job he had was essentially a 24/7 commitment.
But then he remembered he didn’t plan on doing this for the rest of his life, which made him feel a bit better.
Xie Yusheng: If you have trouble, find me.
Lin Ruohuai: I need money.
Xie Yusheng (whose cards were recently frozen and had given almost all his pocket money to Lin): “…”
Do you know how pathetic my life has been lately?
Lin Ruohuai: Brother, it’s fine. I can handle it. He’s my biological uncle, after all.
Xie Yusheng: Stop acting tough. I know all about that useless uncle of yours. If he hadn’t been pestering my family, I wouldn’t have given up your location.
Lin Ruohuai keenly sensed that An Jiayun getting his information was likely the handiwork of the Xie parents.
Wow, talk about targeted harassment. Interesting.
Lin Ruohuai: It’s okay, I can solve it myself. Really. Don’t worry about me.
After hanging up, Lin Ruohuai proactively headed downstairs. He happened to see the old butler supervising workers moving some paintings.
Lin Ruohuai glanced at them—they were very familiar. They were the same paintings that had scared the wits out of him on his first day. Back then, he had stared at the eyes of a European lady in one of the portraits, thinking they were moving—scaring himself.
Seeing them in daylight now, they were just inanimate objects. He wasn’t afraid anymore; he could stare straight at them and even smile.
“Uncle Chen, why are they being replaced all of a sudden?” Lin Ruohuai jogged downstairs and asked.
Uncle Chen looked at the approaching “little pudding” and smiled kindly: “The Young Master said the paintings are old. He wants to bring some ‘fresh blood’ in. The weather at the manor is about to get better, and this year’s winter will be very comfortable.”
“Uncle Chen, I’d like to ask for a day off tomorrow.”
Uncle Chen looked over, his tone very calm: “Regarding leave, you must speak to the Young Master personally. I cannot make that decision.”
Lin Ruohuai didn’t quite understand. There were only the two of them officially living in the manor, and Uncle Chen managed everything else. Why not him?
Uncle Chen seemed to see through his thoughts: “I cannot be your master.”
Lin Ruohuai understood. He turned and headed back to the top floor. As he went up, he knocked on the rooms one by one. Finally, he found Shen Qi in the room at the very end of the hallway. The door was slightly ajar, revealing a narrow gap.
Lin Ruohuai looked through the crack.
The lights weren’t on. The curtains were drawn, letting in only sparse rays of light that failed to illuminate the room fully. Instead, patches of sunlight fell sporadically—one here, one there—landing incompletely on Shen Qi’s back and his wheelchair.
Standing behind him, Lin Ruohuai couldn’t even sense his body heat or heartbeat. “Mr. Shen, are you free right now?”
Shen Qi: “What is it?”
Lin Ruohuai walked in and saw that Shen Qi was playing chess. But there was no one opposite him; he was controlling both the black and white pieces himself.
For a moment, a thought flashed through Lin Ruohuai’s mind, but it vanished quickly because other matters were more pressing.
“I’d like to ask for leave. I have some urgent business to attend to tomorrow.”
Shen Qi didn’t respond to him, merely scanning him with his peripheral vision, looking at this man who was already “claimed.”
He thought coldly.
One phone call from Xie Yusheng and he’s ready to head out. To do things couples do—dates, meetings, giving flowers—performing all those romantic acts for the world to see.
Wait, that’s not right. Their relationship is fake, but the title is real.
They’re going to meet. And what they’ll do during that meeting… it’s hard not to imagine.
A sensitive nerve in Shen Qi’s mind suddenly twitched.
What if I don’t agree?
If he didn’t agree, Lin Ruohuai couldn’t leave. Lin Ruohuai only wanted money, and Shen Qi could give him plenty. Xie Yusheng was just a fool who couldn’t even control his own assets.
After a long time, Shen Qi shifted his gaze from the black chess pieces and looked at the top-tier money-grubber before him.
“You’re going out?”
“Yes, just for one day.” Lin Ruohuai held up a finger and muttered, “Will my pay be docked?”
“No,” Shen Qi answered instinctively, then asked again, “You’re going out?”
Lin Ruohuai: “…Yes.”
Shen Qi placed a piece: “Reason.”
Lin Ruohuai stared unblinkingly at Shen Qi’s long, bony fingers. “Moving. I left a lot of stuff behind at my previous apartment.”
Shen Qi stopped moving. He turned the ring on his right hand, the emotions in his eyes both murky and clear, a half-smile playing on his lips.
What a perfect reason. How could he not agree?
Shen Qi suddenly caught the anxiety on Lin Ruohuai’s face: “Is it very urgent?”
Lin Ruohuai fidgeted, taking a step forward. “Urgent.”
Shen Qi reached out and swept the chess pieces off the board. They clattered into the box with a loud, jarring noise.
“You may go. I approve.”
Lin Ruohuai’s heart settled the moment the last piece fell. He was starting to understand Dr. Wang’s evaluation of Shen Qi—he really was temperamental. Every word felt like walking on thin ice.
Whoever falls in love with this guy is going to live in constant trepidation.
No wonder the author didn’t give Shen Qi a romantic interest despite him having the “male lead” specs.
But then again, he really is handsome. Lin Ruohuai couldn’t help but stare at his fingers, his nose, and his thin lips—avoiding only his eyes.
Thus, he didn’t notice Shen Qi’s gaze fixed on his face, not a trace of emotion leaking out, his lip line pressed thin and cold.
Shen Qi said indifferently: “You must be back before dark. There is a curfew.”
Lin Ruohuai looked at the ceiling and murmured, “But…”
“You want to stay overnight?” With whom? Where? And who are you going to put on a show with? It’s not hard to guess.
Lin Ruohuai tilted his head in confusion, wondering where Shen Qi got that certain tone about “staying overnight.”
“No… I have official business. I was just afraid I wouldn’t make it back in time…”
The rest of the explanation was like a stone dropped into the ocean; Shen Qi was completely oblivious to it.
You’ve slept with me these past few nights, and now you’re going to sleep with someone else?