Chapter 54: Shen Jixing Slapped Him

—Forty minutes earlier.

Shen Jixing exited the chaotic mess of Weibo and tapped open the first chat in WeChat to send a message.

[S]: Do you have time to talk?

The reply came swiftly.

[ZZZZZZZ]: ? Talk about what

This little lion had the nerve to ask.

Before Shen Jixing could compose a response, another message popped up on the screen.

[ZZZZZZZ]: Superstar Shen, with all due respect, you’re not going to win anyone over with a confession like that

Shen Jixing stared at the screen in calm silence: "..."

Who was confessing to whom?

With a slight headache, he rubbed his temples and replied to Zhou Yili in his usual unhurried manner.

[S]: I don’t need a confession to pursue someone. Are you free now?

Zhou Yili glanced at his screen during a break in filming and nearly burst out laughing at the cold arrogance of the message.

No confession needed to pursue someone.

Fine, let’s see if you can catch me without confessing.

[ZZZZZZZ]: Not free. Come here yourself. I’ll wait in the top floor lounge.

It didn’t take long for Shen Jixing to arrive at Zhou Yili’s company.

He pushed open the door, expecting the lounge to be empty, but the first thing he saw was a young nobleman sprawled lazily on the sofa.

The silver-gray suit was impeccably tailored, accentuating Zhou Yili’s aloof elegance, as if he were a tycoon’s heir straight out of a bygone era, exuding an effortless air of aristocratic nonchalance.

“It’s a fifteen-minute drive, and you took half an hour?”

Zhou Yili languidly lifted his eyelids to look at him. “Did you come by go-kart?”

“...”

“Yes.” Shen Jixing walked calmly through the spill of window light and took a seat on the sofa opposite. “I drove your go-kart here.”

He carelessly set the car keys on the table.

It was Zhou Yili’s globally limited edition McLaren.

“...” Zhou Yili straightened up with lazy interest, boredom flickering in his eyes. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“My distinguished three-million debtor and 2022 concert attendee.”

Shen Jixing: “...”

As expected, this little lion’s tail was practically wagging to the sky.

“What on earth did you just follow?” Shen Jixing countered as calmly as he could.

He honestly couldn’t figure out how Zhou Yili had the nerve. How did such a dangerous, unruly artist even survive in the company? Did his agent live on heart-saving pills?

“What do you mean, what did I follow?” Zhou Yili clearly disliked the wording, shooting him a sidelong glance before lazily replying, “It was a multiple-choice poll. Haven’t you ever done one?”

“...”

So, in this young master’s eyes, the three major super topics were just ABC options?

It was obvious the young master thoroughly enjoyed answering them.

Shen Jixing’s habitual calm arrogance never worked on him. This capricious, mischievous, and beautiful little lion always had a way of driving people mad.

“Besides, I don’t think I chose wrong, did I?” Zhou Yili looked across the sun-drenched room at the man sitting cold and composed opposite him.

For the first time, he took the initiative to bring up the past, setting aside his usual chill detachment.

“Who was it, back then, who came looking for me in the rain, tears in their eyes, saying something like...”

Shen Jixing’s fingers tightened slightly on the leather sofa.

His beautiful, clear eyes glared at Zhou Yili—daring him to finish that sentence at his own peril.

As if Zhou Yili would be scared.

He’d always been fearless, charging ahead without a care in the world.

“Zhou Yili, do you want to sleep with—”

Before the word “me” was out, Zhou Yili suddenly leaned back, only to be forcefully pinned down onto the sofa.

The blue-streaked hair above his brow swayed slightly. Even with his waist and abdomen pressed down and his long, slender frame trapped beneath, his lips curled into a lazy, teasing smile.

Shen Jixing glared down at him, cold and furious.

“You—”

Before he could finish, the office door opened.

Silence.

The two of them seemed like a whirlwind, stirring the air, a devilish cackling echoing in the room.

Shen Jixing felt this might just be the pinnacle of his life.

“If you’re done, get off me.”

Caught off guard, Shen Jixing was jostled by Zhou Yili’s long legs and tumbled, weightless, onto his chest, his pale fingers pressing against the silver-gray suit.

Long, dark lashes lifted in confusion as he looked at Zhou Yili.

Even Zhou Yili was taken aback by their sudden closeness.

Before he could react, a sharp slap landed on his jaw.

“Crack.”

Shen Jixing slapped him.

Zhou Yili was stunned for several seconds, the force not exactly painful, and when he finally processed it—

Shen Jixing rolled off his waist, sitting coldly back in the seat opposite. The white casual shirt set off his features, and a faint flush tinged his brows and ear tips.

“You—damn it—”

Zhou Yili snapped back to reality.

Shen Jixing shot him a frosty glare. “Say another word and see what happens.”

It was rare to hear him so angry—though it sounded less like anger and more like embarrassment.

Zhou Yili snorted, but didn’t press the point.

“If you’re not satisfied, go follow your own Starlight Glow.”

Every nerve in Shen Jixing’s temple was throbbing. If he’d known it would turn out like this, he should have phrased it differently: Zhou Yili, how about letting me sleep with you?

Back then, Zhou Yili would do whatever he said—maybe he wouldn’t have refused (?)

Zhou Yili had no idea what was running through his mind. He got up to take a call. “I know, I never said I wouldn’t shoot, I’m on my way.”

He glanced back at the person on the sofa, cold as ice.

“If you want to talk, wait till I’m done filming.”

Zhou Yili scanned the lounge, looking for something to keep him occupied so he wouldn’t get bored waiting by himself.

Shen Jixing stood up calmly. “No need. There’s nothing to discuss.”

He could never out-talk Zhou Yili anyway.

This blue-haired bastard was always both seductive and infuriating.

“Did I say you could leave?” Zhou Yili’s smile faded, his tall, lean frame blocking the light as he easily stood before him, broad shoulders and narrow waist casting a shadow.

“You spent half an hour go-karting over here just to pin me down for five minutes?”

Shen Jixing: “?”

Before he could retort coldly, a hand adorned with a black and silver ring landed on his shoulder, effortlessly pressing him back onto the sofa.

Zhou Yili’s dark eyes drooped lazily.

“Wait for me to get off work.”

“I’ll take you out for king crab.”

He still remembered the way Shen Jixing’s Adam’s apple slid the last time.

He’d clearly wanted to eat it, but never got the chance. The last time they had dinner, Fu Chen had an allergy, so Shen Jixing stayed quiet and never brought it up again.

But Zhou Yili noticed everything.

“You’re done with your business, but I haven’t even started.” Zhou Yili casually swiped his screen, sending a confidential script over.

“My MV needs someone—wondering if you’d cameo.”

Shen Jixing’s phone buzzed. He glanced down at the confidential script.

Such scripts were usually original, never shared lightly before casting was set.

“What role do you need?” asked Shen Jixing.

“The male lead.”

“...If I’m the lead, what will you play?” Shen Jixing found it almost funny. He had no idea who this MV was for.

Zhou Yili: “It’s dual male leads.”

“...”

Zhou Yili’s phone rang again, urgent as ever. He moved his lips as if to say something, but in the end, left the decision to him.

“If you dare run away...”

Standing at the door with one hand in his pocket, Zhou Yili’s silver-gray form gleamed in the light. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to utter a real threat. “Forget it, do as you please.”

Birds long for the sky and freedom.

He could never confine Shen Jixing.