Chapter 39: The Rogue Star

"Did it feel good to touch?"

Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the clouds were breaking at dawn, spilling pale golden sunlight across the room and bathing everything in warm, honeyed hues.

Shen Jixing’s hand froze in midair.

He felt an absurd urge to shove the sun back down and force it to rise again.

"It was all right," he replied calmly, withdrawing his hand with studied nonchalance. "Nothing special."

Zhou Yili: "…"

Really? 'Nothing special'?

He remained sprawled in a lazy, careless posture, face unreadable, but inwardly cool and calculating: I’ll have to get rid of that ugly scar one of these days.

"You say it’s nothing special, yet you touched it for ages," Zhou Yili drawled, voice tinged with amusement.

Shen Jixing’s brows arched slightly.

He hadn’t even figured out when Zhou Yili had woken up before that slow, languid voice drifted over again: "Pay up. Same price as before."

"…"

Three million.

Even the great actor Shen had finally encountered a true extortionist.

"Zhou Yili." Shen Jixing was struck by the absurdity of it all. He half crouched before the other man, pale morning light pooling on his snowy shoulders, his tone composed as he reasoned, "All I did was touch you once."

The words sounded odd even as they left his lips; Shen Jixing’s long lashes flickered.

"Oh?"

"How many times would you like to touch me?" Zhou Yili shot back, eyes lifting. "Are you planning to bring your whole van full of bread people to sexually harass me?"

Shen Jixing: "…………"

For once, he fell silent.

Zhou Yili looked at him through the blinding warmth of the morning. Shen Jixing’s face was as cold and proud as ever, though the white casual shirt he wore lent him a softer air, and the hair at his brow glimmered with threads of golden light.

Zhou Yili’s lips curled in a lazy arc.

"Take this as a lesson: If you’re going to nurse a secret crush, keep it secret. Don’t let yourself get carried away and act without thinking."

"…"

Shen Jixing raised his sharp, pale gaze to him.

Zhou Yili’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, as if he meant to say something more.

But Shen Jixing suddenly straightened, spring sunlight falling behind him like a painting.

"I’ll transfer the money when the variety show payment comes through."

With that, he pressed a hand gently to his temple, a faint exasperation in his manner as he walked away.

No wonder the Zhou family was the wealthiest in Blue Eucalyptus—this little bastard was a born bandit.

The apartment fell silent.

Zhou Yili, still dressed in an expensive suit, lay on the sofa, the golden morning light pouring over him.

After a long moment, he lifted a hand, covering his eyes.

He could feel the heat behind his ears, forced down yet flaring up again like a wildfire, sending his blood racing.

He could still feel the cool fingertips that had traced every contour and line along his skin.

"Rogue Star," he muttered hoarsely.

How could anyone blame him for haggling? That man had obviously been deliberately teasing and provoking him.

At least he hadn’t fallen for it.

Shen Jixing was, by nature, cold and unfeeling—a man entirely under his own control.

In the end, he’d be left behind at the far end of the river of time.

…

Both men were busy on their day off.

After waking, Zhou Yili showered and prepared to continue shooting for his new album.

Shen Jixing was busy as well—busy in that way where it was unclear exactly what he was busy with.

"All right, send me the location," he said, emerging from his room and heading toward the stairs. Suddenly, something made him pause.

The master bedroom door was ajar.

A man in a charcoal-gray bathrobe leaned against the window, his body still damp and exuding a sultry, sensual aura. Wine glass in hand, he gazed down at his own conquered domain.

Shen Jixing found his nerves seized by this display.

What was he up to now?

"Well, well,"

Zhou Yili greeted him, lounging in his bathrobe, the loose collar revealing half a collarbone. He swirled the deep red wine in his glass.

"My distinguished debtor, three million in arrears."

"Where are you off to?"

"…"

"I have business," Shen Jixing replied succinctly, making to go downstairs.

Zhou Yili tapped the rim of his glass with long, languid fingers. "Come here."

Shen Jixing: "?"

This young master was clearly used to being obeyed. Damp hair pushed carelessly back, he gave off an air of lazy, seductive dominance.

"I’m your creditor," Zhou Yili reminded him.

Shen Jixing, standing at the foot of the cold, luxurious staircase, nevertheless strode into his room.

The whole space was suffused with the scent of moist bathwater—grapefruit touched with dew, mingling with the crisp cleanness of cedar.

Zhou Yili always smelled good.

Shen Jixing stopped before him. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Zhou Yili said, obviously short on sleep but more energized than usual, like a dangerous animal soothed by its master.

His wet, tousled black-blue hair dripped at his brow, and a slow smile curved his lips.

"Just wanted to try out my creditor’s privileges."

Shen Jixing, as always, obeyed him.

Zhou Yili couldn’t help but grin recklessly.

"…"

If he didn’t do something, Shen Jixing thought, this little lion would be wagging his tail right over his head.

"Has it occurred to you…"

He reached for the wine glass in Zhou Yili’s hand; the man’s fingers, still damp, left cool droplets on his own.

Shen Jixing slowly raised the glass above Zhou Yili’s head. "I’m the one paying, aren’t I?"

Zhou Yili didn’t quite follow, his dark, narrow eyes fixed on him. As the wine glass began to tip, threatening to pour its contents over his head—

Zhou Yili instinctively shut his eyes.

But the cool rim merely brushed his lips. Zhou Yili opened his eyes as the wine, shimmering with a deep, verdant hue, was gently fed to him.

Shen Jixing’s expression was as calm and aloof as ever.

"So, I’m your sponsor."

It was as if a fuse had been lit in Zhou Yili’s mind, a strange, restless current surging through his body.

Shen Jixing pressed the glass into his hand, time pressing. He didn’t linger, but turned and left.

The large, wild creature, still wet and dripping, hadn’t yet recovered.

Had Shen Jixing just…fed him wine?

Like an owner feeding a pet?

Realization dawned slowly. Zhou Yili narrowed his eyes, a damp lock of hair falling across his fierce, untamed gaze.

He called downstairs, "You’re getting out of hand!"

…

The convalescent home was alive with birdsong and the fragrance of flowers in the spring sunshine.

Shen Jixing stepped out of his car, speaking into the phone. "I’m here, the location is right."

"Good."

Shen Jixing asked idly, "Are you sick? You sound weak."

There was a pause on the other end.

"It’s nothing, just getting an IV," the man replied, his voice cool and steady. "Seafood allergy."

Shen Jixing: "…"

A seafood allergy, and he’d still gone for king crab? Shen Jixing couldn’t help but smile wryly.

Just then, a familiar voice came over the line: "Uncle, I’m sorry, I really am, I had no idea you were allergic! Even if I had a hundred lives, I’d never have taken you to eat king crab…"

The man was silent for two seconds, then said blandly to Shen Jixing, "I’ll hang up for now."

"Mm."

Shen Jixing pocketed his phone and looked into the grounds of the convalescent home.

A young woman sat on the lawn, surrounded by birds and flowers, a little yellow dog circling her, rolling on the grass, occasionally chasing butterflies among the blossoms.

Pulling on his cap and mask, Shen Jixing strode toward her. "Miss Ruan Jia."

She heard his voice, her gentle, serene face suddenly changing as she scrambled to her feet and tried to flee—

Perhaps her blood sugar was low; as she stood, darkness swam before her eyes, and she staggered toward the fountain.

A cool hand steadied her arm, her shoulder coming to rest lightly against his cold, aloof embrace.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice as clear and cool as the fountain’s spray.

Ruan Jia glanced at the hand on her arm—long, pale, and elegant. She knew Shen Jixing disliked being touched, even avoided it especially.

And yet, whenever someone was hurt before him, he was always the first to reach out.

She shook her head, pale, and took a step back. "I’m fine."

"Mr. Shen, if this is about Fang Siqian, there’s no point in asking me…"

"I won’t say anything. I love him."