“Several times she went missing, and I searched for a long time before finding her. I heard you can fix anything, so I wanted to ask for your help.” After speaking, he lowered his eyes and appeared very dejected. “I do not know if you can understand. I am really worried about my grandmother. If I do not find her next time.”
“Alright, say no more.” The boss raised his hand, interrupting Shi Jingyan. “What a filial child. If my kid could be like you, with such a heart and such good grades, sigh, that would be great.”
He had said it before, the boy looked like a very well behaved kid; there must be a reason for such a request. Perhaps with Shi Jingyan’s status as a good student as cover, the boss had no further suspicions.
“Thank you truly.” Shi Jingyan lowered his eyes, his gaze deep, a perfectly placed smile appearing on his face. “Truly, thank you very much.”
He lowered his voice as he spoke to Yu Yanzhuo, who had already leaned in beside him.
“Mhm?” Yu Yanzhuo looked up at him as if it were perfectly natural. “I wanted to lean closer.”
Shi Jingyan was speechless. He did not want to, and could not, tell Yu Yanzhuo that because of his proximity, Shi Jingyan’s heart rate had begun to speed up. He had heard people say that some couples have a biological attraction, where they cannot control their bodies and become madly obsessed with each other once they touch. Shi Jingyan did not think he and this incubus were in that situation; he could only conclude the other was using some small trick again.
Yu Yanzhuo saw his reaction but did not expose it. He unhurriedly acted as though it were unintentional, teasing him and watching his earlobe suddenly turn red from occasional physical contact or skin brushing. As expected, those with a strong reaction were the most interesting.
When the minute hand pointed to the number 9, Shi Jingyan returned. Hearing the sound of the door opening, Yu Yanzhuo checked the time. He had been gone for about forty minutes.
Shi Jingyan walked to his side. When he took out the phone, he hesitated for a moment but still placed it on the coffee table and pushed it toward Yu Yanzhuo. Yu Yanzhuo leaned forward, and as he reached out to take the phone, the screen suddenly lit up. It was a message from Shen Wenyu.
Yu Yanzhuo froze for a second, then immediately looked up at Shi Jingyan. Shi Jingyan was staring out the window; as if sensing Yu Yanzhuo’s gaze, he looked over with a look of slight confusion. He probably had not seen it.
Although Yu Yanzhuo did not feel guilty, his contact with Shen Wenyu was, after all, behind Shi Jingyan’s back, and he did not want him to discover their correspondence so soon. Yu Yanzhuo took back the phone, checked it thoroughly, confirmed there was no problem, and waved his hand carelessly at Shi Jingyan, signaling that he did not need to stay here anymore.
Shi Jingyan obediently turned around, walked to the table where he had been doing his homework that morning, and sat down with his back to Yu Yanzhuo, picking up his pen once more.
Only then did Yu Yanzhuo shift his gaze to his phone screen, clicking on the message sent by Shen Wenyu.
Yu Yanzhuo’s eyes narrowed slightly, filled with interest.
Fortunately, after a short wait, the food was served. Shi Jingyan picked up his chopsticks with a sense of relief, figuring that Yu Yanzhuo might behave a bit better while eating.
But as usual, things did not go as planned.
This hotel was under Lin Yao’s family name, and he seemed to have finally caught an opportunity to strike up a conversation with Yu Yanzhuo.
“Brother Yan, try this. I specifically instructed the head chef to use the freshest Star Grouper for this steamed dish. Previous guests loved it.”
As Lin Yao spoke, his eyes were fixed unblinkingly on Yu Yanzhuo.
Yu Yanzhuo nodded thoughtfully but did not move his chopsticks. Instead, he looked at Shi Jingyan.
“He says it tastes good. Have a taste and see if you like it.”
After saying this, he paused, then smiled at Shi Jingyan: “Or should I serve some for you? I will use the serving chopsticks.”
Shi Jingyan originally wanted to pretend he had not heard, but his hand faltered slightly upon hearing the supplementary remark.
When Shen Wenyu texted, it was just like how he spoke normally, full of vitality. One could easily be infected by his emotions even through a screen.
After all, he grew up in a happy family.
At this thought, Yu Yanzhuo looked back at the figure sitting straight at the desk with his back turned. The pen in the boy’s hand had stopped at some point; he seemed to be deep in thought.
Yu Yanzhuo withdrew his gaze.
From an angle Yu Yanzhuo could not see, Shi Jingyan’s eyes were fixed deathly still on the scratch paper in front of him.
On the snow-white page, a large area was covered in jagged marks where the pen nib had slashed across it. The force was so great that it bled through the paper, leaving dark gashes on the sheets beneath.
He had seen it, the sender’s name that popped up when the phone vibrated.
“Shen Wenyu.”
Shi Jingyan gripped the pen tightly again. The tip tapped unconsciously on the paper, leaving behind a scattered trail of ink dots.
When did he and Yu Yanzhuo exchange contact info?
Did Yu Yanzhuo ask for it, or did Shen Wenyu add him proactively?
What did he want, sending a message at this time?
The pressure of the pen tip against the paper grew heavier and heavier until it completely punctured through.
In the shadows, Shi Jingyan’s eyes shimmered with a faint, dark, and sinister light.
As soon as he finished speaking, Shi Jingyan immediately picked up a piece of snow-white fish and placed it on his plate, fearing that if he waited any longer, Yu Yanzhuo would actually do it himself under Lin Yao’s scorching gaze.
Even so, Lin Yao’s stare still felt like needles against his back.
Shi Jingyan put the fish into his mouth. It was undoubtedly top-tier ingredients, sweet and tender. He nodded slightly, speaking as if reporting a task: “It is quite good.”
Upon hearing this, Lin Yao finally turned his gaze back to Yu Yanzhuo, his eyes full of expectation.
Yu Yanzhuo ignored him, continuing to look at Shi Jingyan with a nonchalant smile: “Then eat more. Feel free to call me if you need me to serve you more food.”
Shi Jingyan felt a throbbing pain in his temples.
He certainly did not believe that a pampered prince like Yu Yanzhuo genuinely wanted to serve him.
Clearly, Yu Yanzhuo enjoyed the pleasure of teasing him in front of others. Especially when Lin Yao looked over, Yu Yanzhuo’s smile would become even more radiant.
Outside the window, the shouts of children playing soared into the sky, seeping into the room through the poorly sealed window.
Yu Yanzhuo was awakened by the noise. He pressed his brow and sat up.
Last night’s farce had ended abruptly. Manna had not sent him any more messages after returning, and all the messages Yu Yanzhuo sent had vanished like stones in the ocean.
Yu Yanzhuo checked his phone; it was almost 11:00 AM.
When he pushed the bedroom door open, Shi Jingyan was hunched over the table, scribbling on paper with a pen.
Their high school rules allowed for one day off per week. Today was Shi Jingyan’s day at home, yet the school had still assigned plenty of homework.
Yu Yanzhuo did not make a sound. He walked to the sofa, sat down, and casually picked up the teapot to pour some hot water into a glass.
He had no intention of speaking.
The sunlight cast shifting spots of light on the glass, freezing his shadow into a silhouette.
Suddenly, there was a sound nearby. Yu Yanzhuo glanced over. Shi Jingyan, who had been sitting at the table doing homework, stood up and walked expressionlessly into the kitchen, just as he always used to do.
It was purely the malicious act of a spectator looking for fun while fanning the flames.
Shi Jingyan did not want to deal with him. He sat quietly to the side, doing his best to ignore Yu Yanzhuo’s various words and actions. It was not until he took a sip of the freshly stewed crucian carp soup and put down his spoon that he felt the gaze that had been fixed on him become even more intense.
Shi Jingyan was puzzled but had a vague, bad premonition.
Sure enough, Yu Yanzhuo stared at his profile and pointed his slender finger vaguely toward the corner of his own mouth.
“There is soup on your face.”
Regardless of whether it was true or false, Shi Jingyan picked up a napkin and dabbed at his mouth. This time, Yu Yanzhuo was telling the truth.
Seeing him look slightly relieved, Yu Yanzhuo leaned closer to his ear, his voice so low only the two of them could hear.
“White soup, hmm, feels somewhat familiar, does it not?”
The remark was cryptic, and Shi Jingyan frowned slightly. The moment he realized the implication, his eyes widened. A deep crimson flushed from his ears to his cheeks, then down to his neck.
He was talking about what happened at Yunding that day.
Except, his walking posture was limping, as if his knees were afraid to bend.
After two hours, standing up again brought a heart-wrenching pain. Every step felt like a swarm of ants gnawing at his bones, an unbearable itch and ache. That kind of pain lasted a long time; no matter how many times it happened, one could never easily get used to it.
This was a lesson Yu Yanzhuo had learned from his father.
Pain is always the fastest way to make someone realize their status. It was a sentence his father told him after he was forced to kneel in the study for four consecutive hours as a child.
Yu Yanzhuo withdrew his gaze, picked up his phone, and opened WeChat.
The interface was stuck on his chat history with Shen Wenyu.
He and Shen Wenyu had been friends for a long time; he had gotten Shen Wenyu’s WeChat at that parent-teacher meeting. However, he did not add him immediately then, but sent the request after returning home.
Shortly after their high school dismissed for the day, Yu Yanzhuo received the notification that the friend request had been accepted.
At that time, he was busy in the bar, orders coming in one after another. Simultaneously, he had to deal with the men and women sitting directly in front of the bar, eagerly trying to strike up a conversation. He simply could not spare a hand to check his messages.
It was not until near midnight, when most guests went to the dance floor, that Yu Yanzhuo finally slowed down and checked his WeChat.
Shen Wenyu’s message notification was from two hours ago, right when the friend request was accepted.
He had sent a greeting emoji.
Yu Yanzhuo casually replied with a cute greeting emoji of his own. He thought a good student like him would have gone to bed early, but to his surprise, a message popped up instantly from the other side.
To speak so inappropriately regardless of the setting!
Looking at Shi Jingyan’s flustered expression, Yu Yanzhuo raised an eyebrow: “What is wrong? I only reminded you that there was something on your face. Why are you so panicked?”
He looked perfectly innocent.
Behind him, Lin Yao’s brows were knit tight, and one could even see him secretly gritting his teeth.
Only the two of them could hear what Yu Yanzhuo had just said. From Lin Yao’s perspective, Shi Jingyan was simply flustered because Yu Yanzhuo had politely leaned in to remind him of something, while Yu Yanzhuo remained composed.
Forget it, nothing good ever happens when staying with this succubus.
Shi Jingyan had always been reluctant to bicker over superficialities. He put down his chopsticks and was about to find a polite way to say he had things to attend to and needed to leave, when the phone on the table began to vibrate.
He glanced at it, his brow furrowing slightly. He whispered a quick apology and walked toward the door with his phone.
Shen Wenyu was very tactful in conversation. He did not ask what kind of work Yu Yanzhuo did; they chatted casually about miscellaneous things before going back to their respective tasks. After that, Yu Yanzhuo intentionally took the initiative to contact Shen Wenyu to build a better relationship.
Even now, they contacted each other occasionally.
He stared at the chat interface with Shen Wenyu, pondering what to send next to start a new topic, when the kitchen door suddenly opened.
Shi Jingyan walked out carrying a bowl of rice. He lowered his head and placed it on the coffee table, his hair falling beside his face as he bent over, completely obscuring his expression.
Yu Yanzhuo turned off his phone screen and placed it on the table, planning to deal with it later, but then he saw Shi Jingyan turn back to the kitchen and come out with a bowl of soup.
Yu Yanzhuo’s lowered eyelashes cast a small shadow over his eyes, a flash of doubt crossing them.
He did not recall Shi Jingyan ever making soup when he cooked in the past. After all, it was just a home meal, not a restaurant banquet; it was a waste of time and energy.
Yet, Shi Jingyan’s expression showed nothing unusual.
Shi Jingyan lowered his gaze and walked to his side under Yu Yanzhuo’s watch, his expression no different from usual.
Perhaps I am being paranoid.
The moment the private room door closed, Lin Yao impatiently clung to Yu Yanzhuo’s arm: “Brother Yan, why were you looking at him the whole time during the meal? Who is he to you?”
Yu Yanzhuo looked at him, his expression unchanged, and let out a light laugh: “Baby, I do not think I am obligated to report these things to you?”
Though it was a rejection, he said it in a way that was still pleasant to the ear.
Instead of getting angry, Lin Yao blushed slightly because of the endearment, even though he knew Yu Yanzhuo used it as a catchphrase for almost everyone.
He opened his mouth to say more, but saw Shi Jingyan push the door and walk back in. The fluster from being teased by Yu Yanzhuo was gone; his face was expressionless and dark. He glanced at them and spoke in a slightly cold tone.
“Sorry, I have an emergency and need to leave early. I will cover the bill.”
Yu Yanzhuo looked at him, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Shi Jingyan’s face suddenly turned pale. He looked up at Yu Yanzhuo in panic, but quickly looked away the moment their eyes met. His teeth bit his lower lip hard, and his fingers tangled together uneasily in front of him.
After last night’s punishment, Shi Jingyan had returned to the cautious, cramped state he was in when Yu Yanzhuo first arrived in this world, constantly living in fear of being punished.
“Idiot. You cannot even do this right?”
Yu Yanzhuo stared at him, his voice as cold as thousand-year-old ice, as if every syllable could condense into tiny frost shards in the air.
Verbal humiliation was the simplest way to increase hatred points, and Yu Yanzhuo had always been good at it.
At these words, Shi Jingyan’s already tangled fingers tightened even more, his knuckles turning white from the strain.
“I am sorry.”
He lowered his head and apologized, his expression hidden. His voice was so soft it was barely more than a breath.
“Clean the table.”
Yu Yanzhuo sat on the other end of the sofa, not bothering to give him another look, his voice indifferent and impatient.
Lin Yao was overjoyed. He gave a brisk wave of his hand: “No need for you to pay. I am treating you for Brother Yan’s sake. If you have things to do, just head back. Do you need someone to drive you?”
He was even slightly nicer to Shi Jingyan now.
“No need, thank you.”
Shi Jingyan nodded slightly. Just as he turned to leave, a voice rang out leisurely.
“Where are you going?”
Yu Yanzhuo leaned his elbow on the back of the chair, his knuckles supporting his jaw. His posture was lazy, but his eyes were locked on him.
Shi Jingyan frowned: “An emergency. Sorry.”
Yu Yanzhuo watched him: “What is so urgent?”
Given that Lin Yao was present, Shi Jingyan leaned in slightly and lowered his voice: “Company business. I must go back immediately.”
“Oh.”
Yu Yanzhuo thought this and withdrew his gaze.
The next second, something went wrong.
When putting down the rice bowl, Shi Jingyan’s fingers touched the extremely hot bottom of the bowl. He instantly hissed in pain and reflexively let go.
The full bowl of soup immediately overturned as Shi Jingyan pulled his hand back, and the scalding liquid poured out, covering half the table in an instant.
Yu Yanzhuo was quick to react, standing up and stepping back so the boiling soup would not spill onto his legs.
But his phone, left on the table, was not so lucky.
Yu Yanzhuo pulled two tissues from the box to protect his hand and quickly pinched the phone out of the thick soup. He pressed the side button; the screen would not light up.
The phone had been very close to the bowl, making it the first victim.
Yu Yanzhuo’s brow darkened. His eyes suddenly went cold as he looked up at the culprit standing nearby.
Yu Yanzhuo smiled, drawing out his last syllable, and crooked his finger slightly toward Shi Jingyan.
“Then there is even less of a rush. Sit.”
Shi Jingyan pursed his lips, a flash of anger in his eyes. His voice was low: “Mr. Yu, I have already said I have an emergency. I do not have time to play games with you here.”
Just now, his assistant had called to tell him that the supplier the brand had always relied on announced they were stopping raw material supplies, and the secondary and tertiary suppliers under them had also hiked prices significantly. The warehouse stock could only support production for a very short time.
Yu Yanzhuo looked at him quietly, his smile remaining. Even his voice was as lazy and casual as always.
“I said, sit.”
He repeated it.
Shi Jingyan’s hands, hanging at his sides, suddenly clenched into fists.
Yu Yanzhuo had always behaved willfully in front of him, but because that beautiful face was always smiling, Shi Jingyan had not felt excessive hostility or wariness; at times, he even found himself involuntarily going along with it.
But at this moment, he realized once again that Yu Yanzhuo was the heir of Huanya.
The midday sun scorched the earth mercilessly. Even though it was already autumn, the temperature at this time remained high.
There were not many pedestrians on the street; most had gone home for lunch or a nap. Even the shop owners by the road were lazily lying in rocking chairs, looking at their phones.
Shi Jingyan walked down the street at an unhurried pace.
The unease and panic that had been on his face earlier had vanished at some point, leaving no trace as if they had never existed.
He suddenly raised his hand, holding the phone that had turned into a black-screened brick, and stared at the dark screen.
The sunlight hit the screen, reflecting the curve of his rising lips.
Years of cooking and cleaning had long ago built up calluses on his fingertips. That little bit of heat from the bottom of a bowl meant nothing to him.
Making it look like a slip of the hand without a trace was not difficult for him.
It was as easy as putting on a nervous and uneasy expression in front of Yu Yanzhuo.
If Yu Yanzhuo really wanted to destroy another company because he felt insulted or was simply in a bad mood, it would take no more than a flick of his finger.
That included Shi Jingyan himself.
Yu Yanzhuo sat there lazily, watching the man in front of him turn dark in an instant, clenching his fists until his lips turned white from pressure.