Late at night, the thunder roared louder than the rain.
Shen Qiu stared at the unconscious Meng Xinghui on the sofa, facing the biggest dilemma of his life.
Getting Meng Xinghui to stand up and change his own clothes was an impossible task.
The reason for his hesitation was—
Shen Qiu liked men. He had known for a long time. He had no interest in the casual flings and promiscuity of the gay scene. Compared to sexual impulses, he focused on his career. Romance was a bonus, but not a necessity.
Changing clothes meant skin-to-skin contact.
He tossed and turned, hesitating again and again.
He didn’t like Meng Xinghui, so there was no need for overthinking. Besides, this “little white flower” was still pining for his scummy boyfriend.
The leather shoes clicked as he approached the man on the sofa.
His eyes flickered, then he closed them.
His figure cast a shadow over Meng Xinghui as he leaned in.
Meng Xinghui lay obediently in his arms, his head lolling against Shen Qiu’s shoulder.
Shen Qiu heard the faint sound of breathing.
His ears itched. Slowly, he began to peel away the clothes binding the other man’s body.
Rustle, rustle—
With his eyes closed, his sense of touch and hearing became even more acute in the darkness. His Adam’s apple bobbed, sweat beaded at his temples, and their bodies brushed against each other.
A lingering, unbearable warmth remained on his fingertips.
The clothes, along with the underwear, were thrown into the dirty laundry hamper.
The sheets were a mess. A cooling patch was plastered to Meng Xinghui’s forehead, his cheeks flushed crimson. His legs were tangled in the duvet, his upper body completely bare. He lay with his head turned, resting in Shen Qiu’s palm, his hair damp with fever-induced sweat. A faint trace of dried blood clung to his lips.
Shen Qiu had draped a thin down comforter over him.
Yang Wenlun arrived as promised, barely catching his breath. Without pausing to steady himself, he immediately took the patient’s temperature. “Damn, 40 degrees Celsius? He’s gonna die at this rate.” He swiftly opened the medical kit and prepared the IV drip.
Shen Qiu took the fever-reducing medication Yang Wenlun had prepared and slipped it into Meng Xinghui’s mouth as he drank water.
By then, Yang Wenlun had already inserted the needle. Two full IV bags were dripping steadily into the prominent veins on Meng Xinghui’s thin hand.
After finishing, Yang Wenlun grinned like a thief. “Bro, what’s our relationship? Why are we keeping secrets?”
Shen Qiu let out a long breath and slumped against the headboard. He used his only free hand to rub his brow. After a night of chaos, he could finally breathe. “Wipe that smug look off your face. He and I are just simple friends.”
He stroked the hair within his reach, his fingertips pinching a split end. I’m sorry. What a pity. And thank god he can’t hear me.
“I’ll treat you better from now on.”
Yang Wenlun tapped his chin, unable to figure anything out. He spread his hands. “Alright—Sigh, it’s so hard on me, running around late at night in this heavy rain. The road is slippery, and my heart is—truly—chilled to the bone.”
“Enough, Yang Wenlun. If you’re done, get lost. Stop with your clichés,” Shen Qiu said, completely indifferent to his friend’s gossip.
His words utterly broke Yang Wenlun’s heart. He clutched his chest dramatically. “I’m so heartbroken. You’ve truly abandoned our friendship for a pretty face! You despicable Shen Qiu, next time you want to find me, you’ll have to pay.” With that, he grabbed his medical kit and left, ready to continue his carefree night.
The rustle of turning pages filled the air as different voices clashed and contended.
The atmosphere was tense. People from different interest groups argued fiercely, each pursuing their own agenda, like the Red and White Queens, generals on opposite sides of a chessboard.
The slide presentation on the screen changed after a long pause.
“The third-quarter financial report shows that total profit has decreased by 5% year-on-year. The growth contribution rate of each branch company has also declined. In particular, Yunshang Technology’s performance is worrying, with a profit loss of 130 million. The following is the profitability of other branch companies.”
The CFO of Shen Group adjusted his glasses. “President, I believe Yunshang Technology needs a change in leadership. After all, the Group’s money doesn’t come from thin air.”
A slightly plump man’s face darkened with dissatisfaction. “No way! No matter how we handle this, we can’t replace Liu Fugui. He’s a founding member who helped Mr. Shen build the Group’s empire in the early days. His contributions to the Group far outweigh anyone else’s here.” He slammed the table in protest.
“How can we dismiss Liu Fugui just because of temporary losses? That would be terribly disheartening for everyone else in the Group.”
The CFO sneered, “It’s been losing money for seven years.”
The man choked up. “R&D is always risky! We’ve invested in nearly a thousand angel projects—at least seven or eight hundred—and aren’t most of them in the red? If just one or two succeed, the economic benefits will be substantial.”
Shen Qiu rested his chin on his hand. “Are you finished? Manager Guan, I’d like to hear your thoughts.” Manager Guan was a PhD who had returned from overseas. He had been conducting research and development since his college days and had already overcome key technical bottlenecks across numerous fields at a young age.
Under normal circumstances, Manager Guan would have followed his mentor’s wishes and returned to his alma mater to become a professor. However, Shen Qiu had personally invited him, promising to focus the Group’s resources on his projects, which led him to join the Shen Group.
Manager Guan was Shen Qiu’s trusted confidant; the two were perfectly in sync.
Manager Guan spoke calmly. “I’ve reviewed the research data President Liu submitted. The direction is correct, but he’s taken many detours. After all, President Liu doesn’t have a professional background in this field. With technology advancing so rapidly, we can’t even guarantee our project’s results will be ahead of other companies. Until we have a tangible outcome, everything is just a castle in the air.”
“Furthermore,” Shen Qiu said, his gaze turning cold and sharp as he swept it across everyone in the room, “as the President of Shen Group, I will never tolerate the actions President Liu has taken.”
Secretary Lin immediately distributed the documents to each attendee.
As they read through the files, the evidence was undeniable.
Liu Fugui had abused his authority to embezzle funds from the companies under his charge. He had purchased equipment at inflated prices to pocket kickbacks, coerced financial staff into falsifying accounts, and concealed his actions from the Group’s supervisory departments. He had even used his position to leak company secrets and sell them to competitors at a discount.
One piece of evidence after another silenced the man who had been defending Liu Fugui, as well as his remaining allies.
“I assume we are all in agreement now,” Shen Qiu concluded. “Secretary Lin, hand Liu Fugui over to the relevant authorities. At the same time, the Legal Department is to prepare a lawsuit immediately. My only requirement is this: make Liu Fugui vomit up everything he’s stolen.”
“As for the appointed head of Yunshang Technology,” Shen Qiu added, “the Human Resources Department will recommend candidates, who will then be reviewed and approved by the Board of Directors.”
“The meeting is adjourned,” Shen Qiu declared, and with that, he left the conference room.
He pulled open the lotus-patterned window of his office.
From the top of the skyscraper, people looked so minuscule—so small that even the slightest setback could leave them bleeding and broken. The image of Meng Xinghui weeping that night flashed before his eyes.
“Secretary Lin, find a reason to issue a bonus to our hotel staff below. The funds will come from my personal account.” It was a consolation prize.
Secretary Lin understood perfectly. “Understood.” He closed the file and quietly shut the office door.
Shen Qiu’s phone buzzed, the screen displaying the word “Father.”
A flash of anticipation crossed Mo Tong’s eyes. “Father.”
Upon hearing the news, Father Shen’s blood pressure soared. A nurse was measuring it, and the butler’s worried words reached Shen Qiu’s ears over the phone.
“What are you doing? Shen Qiu, Liu Fugui cannot be touched.”
Shen Qiu feigned confusion. “Father, why? President Liu committed an illegal act and damaged the Group’s interests.”
“You—” Father Shen choked, unable to catch his breath. “Fine, it’s done. That girl waited for you for a long time yesterday. Your Aunt Liao is heartbroken.”
Shen Qiu cruelly tore through the thin veil of their feigned civility. “Father, you know I like men, don’t you?” he challenged, his words a direct attack.
Father Shen’s blood pressure, which had just begun to stabilize, spiked again. The butler hurriedly patted the old man’s back, saying, “Sir, please don’t get angry.”
The old man’s eyes, though aged, instantly turned fierce. “Shen Qiu, you’ve grown bold. You must marry and establish your own family to carry on our bloodline. Do you want me to die without an heir?”
“Don’t think that just because the Group can’t do without you right now, you can secure your place as the heir. I can lift you, and I can also bring you down in disgrace—destitute, stripped of everything.”
Shen Qiu’s thin lips parted in a mocking smile. “Go ahead. I don’t mind. Unless you’d rather let your nephews take over your position.”