Chapter 24: The Innocent, Kind-Hearted, and Childlike Elder Brother Who Fears Evil People

A counterattack that caught him completely off guard.

“…”

Shen Jixing suddenly found himself at a loss.

His long, raven-black lashes fluttered ever so slightly, brows faintly knitted as he replied with a calm, puzzled retort, “What nonsense are you talking about?”

Zhou Yili was not surprised by this answer.

He leaned back lazily, posture relaxed, and continued slicing his pickled radish cubes with those long, slender fingers.

“You live in my house, sleep in my bed, drive my car, and now you insist on joining the same variety show as me…” Zhou Yili let out a soft, languid chuckle, his gaze sweeping over those clean, slender, pale fingers pressed atop both contracts.

He lifted his eyes with careless ease and shot back, “Shen Jixing, don’t tell me you have a secret crush on me?”

Shen Jixing: “…”

“……”

The silence hung thick, like the mist over Cambridge tonight.

He had wanted to ask whether Zhou Yili had snooped through his computer that morning, but instead, he’d been led into this strange, ambiguous corner.

And, what’s more, he couldn’t even refute it.

This standoff felt strangely familiar, reminiscent of that morning he’d awoken in Zhou Yili’s bed after the rain.

But surely, this little lion couldn’t be so wicked… could he?

Shen Jixing’s brows drew together as he regarded him with a cool, scrutinizing gaze for a while.

He watched as Zhou Yili’s Adam’s apple bobbed minutely, and yet he kept eating his breakfast unbothered, lips curling in a lazy, mocking smile.

“Don’t just eat the pickles,” Shen Jixing reminded him serenely. “Have some water too.”

Then, with perfect composure, he picked up both contracts and headed upstairs.

Zhou Yili: “?”

Pickles and water? What was that supposed to mean?

What kind of reaction was that—did he believe him or not??

The next second, as the salty taste spread through his mouth, Zhou Yili suddenly realized the meaning behind those words.

From the moment Shen Jixing returned, faced with a table full of national banquet delicacies, he, the fool, had eaten nothing but an entire plateful of pickled radish cubes.

Zhou Yili threw his head back, gulped down water, and cursed, “Damn it.”

Upstairs.

With a faint, sidelong glance, Shen Jixing watched the man downstairs frowning as he drank water, the sharp angle of his Adam’s apple moving up and down, radiating a vigorous, sensual masculinity.

A faint smirk seemed to tug at his lips before he turned into his room.

Two contracts lay open on the desk before him, the signatures at the bottom nearly identical.

One side bore Shen Jixing’s elegant hand, bold as flying dragons and dancing phoenixes.

The other—Zhou Yili’s handwriting, ugly as a turtle’s crawl.

“He did it on purpose.”

Shen Jixing could be almost certain.

He simply didn’t understand why Zhou Yili was doing this.

Did he want, under the glare of the public eye, to watch him squirm at the center of a scandal?

Or—

The image of Zhou Yili downstairs, head tipped back to drink, flashed through his mind: under the hazy light, his hair shone with a fine down, looking for all the world like a bristling little lion.

Yet Shen Jixing’s gaze lingered on the back of his ear, on that pale scar that would never fully heal.

Perhaps.

He placed both contracts side by side in a drawer and closed it gently.

There was no second possibility, he thought.

…

“Brother Fang…”

The assistant had barely pushed open the meeting room door when a bottle of water came hurtling straight at him.

He dodged nimbly out of the way.

The next second, a fresh bottle followed, accompanied by Fang Siqian’s furious roar.

“Get out!”

This time it struck home.

Happy now?

The assistant set the lunch he’d brought on the conference table, swallowing his grievance and the ache in his shoulder. “Brother Fang, you haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“And how am I supposed to eat?” Fang Siqian shot back coldly.

His handsome face was twisted with anger; no one could have connected this man to the celebrated, beloved “warm-hearted” idol he was known to be.

“Shen Jixing—he really does care about me.”

He’d spent years meticulously building a good reputation, finally clawed his way into the A-list, only to have it all destroyed by Shen Jixing in a single blow.

Endorsing a carcinogenic product, holding an umbrella for fans in the rain—it was laughable when put together!

Shen Jixing had acted as if he didn’t even know him during the day, only to hit him with a “surprise” that night.

As expected, that man just loved to play the saint.

He was actually terrified, terrified Fang Siqian would entirely take his place.

“Don’t be angry, Brother Fang, it’s not as bad as it seems…” The assistant tried to soothe him. “The company’s already issued a statement, shifting all the blame to the brand. As long as you act like you didn’t know anything, the rest will just—”

“What do you mean, ‘act like I didn’t know’?” Fang Siqian cut him off abruptly, glaring. “I really didn’t know!”

He’d only suspected the gemstones weren’t pure; he’d never imagined they were complete trash.

This brand must be brain-damaged.

The assistant cowered, head down. “…Yes.”

“Did the company tell me to record an apology video?” Fang Siqian suddenly looked up and asked.

The assistant nodded. “But Manager Chen refused on your behalf. He said you’re not in a stable state right now, worried you might make things worse…”

Meeting Fang Siqian’s icy gaze, the assistant’s heart skipped a beat.

Crap, he’d put his foot in it again.

With a crash, Fang Siqian stood and tossed the untouched lunch straight into the trash. “Go get ready.”

“I’m going to record an apology video.”

Shen Jixing had seriously underestimated him—did he think this was enough to finish him off?

Fang Siqian had fought his way up from nothing.

He was unbreakable.

Seeing how pale he looked, the assistant hesitated. “Maybe you should eat something first…”

Fang Siqian turned icy eyes on him, snatched up the water bottle, and chased after him. “‘Eat something first, eat something first, record the apology after eating’—what do you want, for me to go on camera and burp?!”

…

That night.

After two days of escalating controversy over YC, Fang Siqian posted an apology video on Weibo.

“I’m sorry.”

“I want to apologize here to all my fans and to anyone who suffered from buying YC jewelry because of me. It was my ignorance and stupidity that kept me from seeing the true nature of those behind this, and it dragged all of you into endless anxiety and fear…”

In the video, he looked haggard, drained of color, his red-rimmed, apologetic eyes making countless fans ache for him.

“Don’t be like this, gege, it’s not your fault—we bought it willingly!”

“It’s all YC’s fault, what does it have to do with you, I feel so bad for you, sob sob.”

“You’re just a spokesperson, gege, you’re so kind—how could you have known they’d be so awful?”

…

“You’re just a spokesperson, gege, you’re so kind—how could you have known they’d be so awful~”

Amid a sea of comforting comments, a single sarcastic reply suddenly stood out.

The account bore the blue six-pointed star badge.

“Fang fans: ?”

“Xing fans: ?”

“Fang fans: You’re in trouble yourselves, and you still have the nerve to mock others?”

“Xing fans: We’re just standing tall in our own tag taking the heat, nothing says we can’t drop by yours.”

“Fang fans: …”

“Xing fans: Oh, our pure and innocent 6’1” baby brother who’s afraid of bad people, we feel so sorry for you, QAQ.”

Fang’s fans fell into a collective silence: “…”

They could retaliate against the main target, sure, but the Xing fans were already lying down and taking it—there was no effect.

No one had ever seen anything this insane; in the end, all Fang’s fans could do was spam the thread in helpless fury—

“He’s already apologized, what more do you want?!”