Lin Ruohuai touched his earlobe, his eyes and brow filled with a dazed look. He wasn’t surprised by the answer itself, but rather by the speed with which Shen Qi had replied—as if the man were terrified he might regret it the next second.
Lin Ruohuai’s cheek twitched. I just gave you a ladder and you refused to climb down; you insisted I carry you before you’d agree to leave.
Shen Qi set down his brush and unhurriedly wiped his hands. Under the flickering lamplight, his impeccable face hid the emotions in his eyes. When he looked up at Lin Ruohuai, he paused for a moment, revealing a trace of something resembling tenderness, but he quickly reeled it in.
“Doing okay?”
A light rain had fallen here in the afternoon, leaving the air damp and sticky—much like the current atmosphere between the two of them.
Lin Ruohuai thought to himself that the Young Master’s concern was quite awkward. He licked his lips. “Pretty good.”
The money was repaid, and the apartment was saved. Shen Qi watched him, his long lashes casting shadows. In the long silence, he let out a soft huff. In the next second:
“Thank you, Mr. Shen.”
Such a soft and timely “thank you” easily manipulated a person, effortlessly softening their heart and causing them to drop all defenses.
Lin Ruohuai blinked. “I don’t have that much money at the moment…”
Shen Qi lowered his eyelids and said nonchalantly, “I’m not short on that small amount.”
He manipulated his wheelchair, turning to leave the room automatically. Lin Ruohuai froze for a second before chasing after him. The moment his hand touched the handles, the wheelchair ended its automatic mode as if sensing the touch, and the familiar whirring sound of the manual mode returned.
“Mr. Shen, is the wheelchair broken again?”
“No.”
Lin Ruohuai pushed very slowly, staring at the back of Shen Qi’s head. His gaze involuntarily slid downward. The short hair was neat, and his clothes didn’t have a single wrinkle; every preference from head to toe aligned with Shen Qi’s perfectionism.
Since the night-light mode had been canceled, the corridor was as bright as day, dispelling the gloom and fear of the night. The only thing that remained the same was the voice-activated system.
Lin Ruohuai looked back; it felt as if a massive shadow were creeping up behind them.
He wasn’t afraid anymore. Because Shen Qi was there, he felt at peace.
Shen Qi’s eyes were downcast, his mind elsewhere, when a pale pink palm suddenly appeared beneath his gaze. A soft voice sounded from behind him, “I bought this for you.”
Shen Qi looked at the fountain pen box resting in the palm. It was a common, cheap brand.
Lin Ruohuai also felt it wasn’t great—the brand didn’t match Shen Qi’s status. But he really had no money. Sigh. “Next time I’ll…”
The gift he was about to withdraw was snatched away. Shen Qi placed it in his palm to examine it, his thumb stroking it as if it were an ordinary object, before placing it on his thigh.
Lin Ruohuai inexplicably remembered the scene when the man had used his lap as a pillow. Does he put everything people give him on his lap? That’s kind of cute.
The corridor fell back into silence.
Lin Ruohuai’s clothes were scented with a specific fragrance every day—a fresh jasmine. Now, it mingled with the scent of ink permeating from Shen Qi, thread by thread, quietly intertwining and melting into the air.
They did nothing—no eye contact, no physical touch—yet they inadvertently brushed against the ripples rising on the lake’s surface.
An attempt was made to disturb the fluctuating emotional scales of two adults; it was unclear whose heartstrings had quietly tightened.
And only in this moment—only this very moment—did the time belong solely to them.
After delivering him to his room, Lin Ruohuai was about to head out. Shen Qi looked over with a questioning gaze. Lin Ruohuai rubbed the back of his neck and explained, “I’m going back to take a shower. I’m covered in sweat; don’t you think it stinks?”
Without any personal emotion, Shen Qi gave a very objective evaluation: “There’s no smell.”
Lin Ruohuai added, “Xie Yusheng’s room seemed to have perfume sprayed in it. I caught a bit of it, not much…”
Shen Qi’s face clouded over. “Stinky.”
“…”
In fact, if it were convenient, it would be better for Lin Ruohuai to stay and take a quick shower to save commute time. But he didn’t suggest it, and Shen Qi didn’t ask him to stay. Let it be; it wouldn’t be appropriate anyway, even if they were both men.
Besides, the aura Shen Qi gave off when his brow lowered could crush a person. For instance, right now—he was slightly unhappy, and the air around them seemed to grow thin, making it hard to breathe.
Perhaps this was the temperament of someone in a high position.
Regardless, Lin Ruohuai couldn’t stay any longer. It was also confirmed: as long as he had contact with Xie Yusheng, Shen Qi especially hated it.
Oh, and Xie Yusheng—Shen Qi didn’t think much of him to begin with. If it weren’t for the fact that Shen Qingyi truly liked him…
Lin Ruohuai returned to his room and picked out suitable pajamas in the walk-in closet. Gray-blue… green was also good… this one feels so comfortable… His movements paused. Lin Ruohuai snapped back to reality, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. What am I doing? I should wear whatever I like; I shouldn’t care about Shen Qi’s opinion.
He was acting like a concubine specifically picking out beautiful clothes to compete for the Emperor’s favor.
Lin Ruohuai unconsciously puffed out his cheeks with air. This line of thinking was a bit dangerous. However, the way Shen Qi usually sat in that wheelchair really did have the vibe of someone sitting on a dragon throne.
If this were ancient times, what would he be? A little eunuch?
He wondered if he’d ever get the chance to transmigrate into a book again—being a powerful eunuch, above ten thousand but below one, hahahaha.
He was getting sidetracked.
Lin Ruohuai took a slip of paper out of his clothes—the receipt for the fountain pen. He hadn’t spent the whole time in Xie Yusheng’s room. The villa complex had everything; it was like a miniature city with full supplies. He had thought about buying a bouquet of flowers at first but ended up taking the pen. He thought Shen Qi’s handwriting was very beautiful.
After showering, Lin Ruohuai returned to his rug feeling light. Just as he lay down, he realized with a start that he’d forgotten to bring a blanket. No matter; just covering his navel with his hand would do.
This time, Shen Qi didn’t stay in the bathroom long. Lin Ruohuai was sleeping like a log, legs sprawled and arms stretched out. The rug was circular with a pink pattern in the middle; Lin Ruohuai slept right in the center like a little princess.
A soft shawl, carrying the fresh scent of laundry detergent, was gently tossed over Lin Ruohuai’s midriff.
The next morning, the morning mist was heavy, but the constant temperature system in the manor remained steady. Lin Ruohuai woke up to his internal clock and reflexively used the shawl to wipe his face. He arched his back and sat up like a zombie.
He sat in silence for a full thirty seconds before realizing what he was holding: Shen Qi’s brown checkered shawl… No, wait. The scent was wrong. This was new.
Shen Qi’s shawl retained its own scent no matter how many times it was washed, indicating he had used it for a long time. This one didn’t have that; it only had the fresh scent of detergent.
After Lin Ruohuai sneakily grabbed his slippers and left, Shen Qi opened his eyes without warning. There wasn’t a trace of grogginess in them—only clear and steady colors.
Beside Lin Ruohuai, he had a healthy sleep state; he could fall asleep. He hadn’t slept tonight because he had discovered that his emotional reactions toward Lin Ruohuai were becoming too abnormal.
This question planted a seed in his heart, lasting until Lin Ruohuai went upstairs to give him a massage. He wasn’t holding a meeting; he was practicing calligraphy to calm his mind. He was using the fountain pen Lin Ruohuai had given him. It wasn’t very good to use, and his writing was too ugly, so after Lin Ruohuai entered, he switched to another pen.
Lin Ruohuai used a hot towel on him. When he lifted the pant leg, he found a large bruise on Shen Qi’s right knee. Shen Qi didn’t feel the pain; he was used to it—just a bump.
Lin Ruohuai carefully avoided that spot. His massage technique became much gentler, bringing a fine, dense ticklish sensation.
Shen Qi knit his brows slightly but didn’t stop him. Only after Lin Ruohuai finished his task and left did Shen Qi realize he hadn’t written a single character.
He dipped his brush and wrote the words “Let Nature Take Its Course.” He called the butler up to have it framed and replace the original calligraphy on the wall.
The old butler stood with his hands behind his back, smilingly praising the Young Master for writing as if inspired by gods—basically a bunch of flattery.
It felt meaningless to listen to, though—not as good as Lin Ruohuai’s…
Shen Qi’s mind felt as if it had been struck by a weak electric current. After calming down, he asked with an extremely objective attitude, “Uncle Chen, what do you think of Lin Ruohuai’s performance?”
Uncle Chen was a bit surprised. Is this the critical point for deciding whether Mr. Lin stays or goes? “He works efficiently and is obedient.”
The key was “obedient.”
“But he was once the young master of the Lin family, and I acquired the Lin Group. It’s impossible for him not to hate me.”
That was true. But since when did the Young Master care so much about other people’s opinions? The business world was a battlefield; there shouldn’t be a trace of soft-heartedness. A flicker of unnoticeable surprise passed through Uncle Chen’s eyes.
Shen Qi caught that second, which indirectly confirmed that he was indeed acting unusual regarding Lin Ruohuai.
Uncle Chen remained silent for a good two or three minutes before slowly speaking, “Mr. Lin is quite easy to get along with. Does the Young Master have any areas of dissatisfaction? I can make a summary.”
“His presence…” would cause him to lose control and trigger emotions of wanting to be good to him, as if he couldn’t stand to see Lin Ruohuai have any negative feelings.
Shen Qi pursed his lips and looked at the words “Let Nature Take Its Course,” ultimately leaving his thoughts unsaid.
The old butler, however, was struck by inspiration. He understood Shen Qi’s personality even better than Shen Qi’s parents did—the man possessed a level of logic and willpower far beyond his peers.
Shen Qi was meticulous. He had to be first in everything since childhood and held himself to extremely harsh standards. He had immense pride. It was hard to imagine what kind of hellish self-doubt the Young Master had gone through upon learning he couldn’t walk and might be crippled for life.
But he was good at hiding his emotions. The decisions he made were often incomprehensible even to those close to him. He had his own ideas, and no one could change them.
And now, Young Master Shen was experiencing the same confusion as back then—stemming from Mr. Lin.
The old butler spoke up boldly: “Does Mr. Lin’s presence disturb the Young Master?”
Shen Qi twisted his ring, his eyelids drooping, his lashes as long as butterfly wings.
“Young Master, Mr. Lin is just an ordinary caregiver. You can look at it from a different perspective. He is no longer the young master of the Lin family; the Lin family no longer exists, and Mr. Lin has no intention of seeking revenge.”
Shen Qi suddenly laughed, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re actually not telling me to fire him.”
The old butler remembered Madam Shen’s instructions. This was an excellent opportunity; it was rare for the Young Master to lose his “human-machine” coldness. Mr. Lin was like a little sun; more contact would be a good thing.
“Escaping is not the Young Master’s style. To solve a predicament, one must face the difficulty head-on. Just work on adjusting your emotions and mindset.”
Shen Qi turned his wheelchair around, frowning. “You mean, let me have more contact with him and get used to being good to him?”
The old butler fell silent for a moment, suddenly not quite understanding the Young Master’s train of thought. “Just interact naturally.”
Shen Qi understood. From those words, he summarized his own conclusion: “From now on, have him come up to eat with me.”
Uncle Chen hesitated to speak, but finally said, “Young Master, Mr. Lin is still the boyfriend of that person from the Xie family, after all.”
Shen Qi said expressionlessly, “I don’t need you to remind me. You talk too much.”