Chapter 98 Be a Little Kinder to Me, Shen Jixing

Zhou Yili stood frozen in place. The conversation echoed in his mind, that cool, indifferent voice tinged with a smile.

“I curse you to live a long life, never able to leave me.”

“No need for a curse. That’s how it is already.”

What did that mean?

Shen Jixing couldn’t leave him???

Before Zhou Yili could pursue the question, Sikong Xiu called from behind, “Hey, don’t go yet, you feisty blue-maned little lion. We need to reshoot a few scenes.”

The feisty blue-maned little lion turned back fiercely, “?”

ヽ(#`Д´)ノ

“Go on,” said Shen Jixing, gently pinching the drooping lion ears atop his head.

Shen Jixing’s thin lips curved in a subtle smile as he watched him for a moment, then turned away without lingering.

Zhou Yili, his thoughts in turmoil, walked towards Sikong Xiu.

Under the silent, bemused gaze of the single dogs, he coldly tossed out two words: “Death sentence.”

Sikong Xiu: “#$@!％……?”

Whose MV was he shooting anyway? Whose painstakingly produced new album MV, two years in the making?

He met Zhou Yili’s languid, downward gaze.

Squinting his fox-like eyes with a cold laugh, he replied with a carefree, “(´喳`ʃƪ）”

A voice behind them, muffled by a hand, snickered.

Sikong Xiu frowned slightly and turned to look. Xiong Xiong hurriedly crouched behind the monitor, showing only half his head.

Sikong Xiu remembered Xiong Xiong was Shen Jixing’s assistant.

He was amused, “Why are you still here? What’s your duty?”

Xiong Xiong replied softly yet seriously, “To attend to the queen, until she safely reaches the lounge.”

Zhou Yili was discussing camera angles with the stage manager as Sikong Xiu pointed in the direction Shen Jixing had gone.

“The queen you’re supposed to attend is almost at her happy place.”

Xiong Xiong’s not-so-bright eyes darted about earnestly, “No, that’s the emperor.”

He and the agent were staunch supporters of the Starlit Yili faction.

He pointed to Zhou Yili, currently suspended mid-air by wires, sharp and commanding.

“This is the queen.”

“…Wonderful.”

…

The northern filming location was chilly.

After showering, Shen Jixing changed into soft, white pajamas and noticed several missed calls on his screen.

Sheng Que.

They rarely contacted each other privately. Shen Jixing called back, “Hello, what—”

His words paused.

Sheng Que was crying.

In his memory, Sheng Que was cheerful and unruly, sharing a certain trait with Zhou Yili—recklessly dazzling. This was the first time he’d heard Sheng Que cry.

Like a little calf.

Shen Jixing intended to wait until he finished, but Sheng Que’s tears wouldn’t stop. “What happened?” Shen Jixing’s tone softened, but even through the receiver, it remained cool.

Sheng Que abruptly halted, “Brother Shen, are you and my little uncle very close?”

Shen Jixing, hair damp, leaned against the headboard, striving for gentleness when speaking to the young one. “Tell me what happened first, then I’ll consider whether we’re close.”

Sheng Que: “…”

So realistic, Brother Shen.

But he truly didn’t know what else to do.

Even now, just mentioning it made Sheng Que want to cry. “This afternoon, my little uncle said he’s decided to move out of the Sheng family. He’s really angry this time. He doesn’t want the Sheng family, and he doesn’t want me…”

He seemed forever a child who wouldn’t grow up.

Always expecting someone to cover for him.

Once there were doting grandparents, then loving parents, and finally, a cold-faced but warm-hearted little uncle.

But gradually, it felt like he had nothing.

He hadn’t learned to grow up, yet they left him one by one.

“Was I really… too much this time?”

Shen Jixing couldn’t lie, “A little.”

To someone who gave his all, expecting nothing in return.

My family’s customs aren’t your family’s customs—it was tantamount to erasing all of Fu Chen’s years of dedication.

So in Sheng Que’s heart, they were never truly a family.

“I don’t even know why I said those things. I just wanted to celebrate my birthday, didn’t want my little uncle always controlling me, I… wuwuwu…”

Sheng Que cried incoherently, like a helpless, lonely fledgling.

After a moment, Shen Jixing spoke softly, “But you shouldn’t doubt yourself. It’s not your fault.”

Sheng Que froze, “Huh?”

“Fu Chen isn’t one to be swayed by emotion. He acts with his own reasoning.”

Their upbringing determined they weren’t impulsive for the sake of emotion.

Whether Shen Jixing or Fu Chen.

Every step was cautious, calculating every possibility, for they could never afford the cost of a mistake.

Fu Chen was like an immovable mountain.

Even Shen Jixing’s cool tone carried a magic that soothed the soul.

“The last thing you should doubt is that he’ll abandon you.”

Fu Chen’s heart could hold very few people.

But for those he acknowledged, even if he had only one path left, he’d give half of it to his friends.

Sheng Que was stunned again, “Ah, does my little uncle… care about me?”

Sheng Que wasn’t sure if ‘care’ was the right word.

After all, it seemed unlikely—his little uncle was always annoyed by him.

“Whether he cares or not is unclear,” Shen Jixing said with a faint smile, “but in any circumstance, you would be his first choice.”

In some ways, Shen Jixing resembled Fu Chen greatly.

He was naturally aloof, but those he recognized would receive his endless patience.

When Zhou Yili returned from filming, Shen Jixing was already asleep.

But the phone by the bed was still glowing.

He picked it up and saw: Sheng Que, call duration one hour and thirty-six minutes.

“Brother Shen, are you awake?” Sheng Que asked in a whisper, hearing the movement.

Zhou Yili lowered his voice impatiently, “Are you telling fairy tales to my wife on a live call?”

Sheng Que was stunned by the term.

Then he wiped his nose, tossing the tissue onto the growing mountain in the trash bin, “No, your wife was telling me fairy tales.”

Zhou Yili cursed, “Do you even deserve it?”

Then, full of jealousy, he ended the call.

He looked at the person sleeping quietly under the warm bedside lamp, clad in snowy, soft pajamas, features as exquisite and gentle as ink-wash painting.

“You’ve never told me a fairy tale.”

Shen Jixing only teased him verbally.

Promised him the moon.

Zhou Yili didn’t have the heart to disturb him, nor did he sneak a kiss to wake him. After tidying up, he gently pulled him into his arms to sleep.

“I wonder if you ever listened to what I said…”

With the night wind’s chill clinging to him, Zhou Yili wrapped the warm, clean person in his embrace, carefully pressing his cheek against his.

Treat me well.

And I’ll give myself to you once more.

Now, Zhou Yili left nothing behind.

The person in his arms slept obediently and peacefully, and Zhou Yili’s heart melted into utter softness.

“Be a little kinder to me, Shen Jixing.”