Fu Ju barely managed to get Luo Jingshu downstairs. The man still had some consciousness and wasn’t completely unconscious—he had probably just been overly stimulated by Fu Ju’s earlier remark.
After leaving the office and stepping into the cold wind, Luo Jingshu’s body grew even hotter, his brows furrowing tighter as an abnormal flush spread across his cheeks.
Fu Ju propped him against the backseat and wiped his sweat.
If only he hadn’t made that snarky comment earlier—he might’ve avoided angering Luo Jingshu even more.
He drove toward the hospital. On the way, Luo Jingshu was surprisingly quiet, his head resting against the car window, eyes closed.
Initially, Fu Ju was cautious, driving slowly. But as he became more concerned about Luo Jingshu’s worsening fever, he sped up.
Turning the wheel suddenly, he heard a thunk from the backseat, followed by a muffled groan from Luo Jingshu.
At the red light, Fu Ju glanced back and saw a faint red mark forming on Luo Jingshu’s brow—it seemed his head had knocked against the car window.
Fu Ju: …
Let’s hope he doesn’t end up brain-damaged.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, Fu Ju slowed the car back down. After what felt like ages, they finally arrived at the hospital. Once Luo Jingshu was hooked up to an IV, Fu Ju finally sighed in relief.
He’d initially planned to go drinking with Luo Jingshu. Who could’ve guessed that his night would end in a hospital instead?
It seemed Luo Jingshu had been overworking himself lately—too much stress, irregular meals, and neglecting rest. All these factors combined, and now he was burning up like a furnace.
Even hooked up to the IV, Luo Jingshu still looked uncomfortable. His striking face flushed red, but it didn’t diminish his charm. In fact, it made him look even more alluring in a peculiar way.
Fu Ju thought to himself that while he wasn’t a saint, at least he wasn’t into men like Luo Jingshu.
Even now, as Luo Jingshu lay there, pitiful and feverish, he wasn’t entirely quiet. He kept murmuring, repeating the same two words over and over:
“Brother Cheng…”
Hearing that raspy voice chanting “Brother Cheng” in his ear felt like a form of torture. Fu Ju had initially tried to distract himself with his phone, but after enduring it for a while, he finally lost patience.
He reached into Luo Jingshu’s pocket, pulled out his phone, and muttered, “Fine, I’ll help you one last time.”
Using Luo Jingshu’s hand, he unlocked the phone with the fingerprint scanner and opened WeChat. The pinned contact at the top was, unsurprisingly, Xiao Cheng.
Although Fu Ju knew that Xiao Cheng didn’t care much for Luo Jingshu, he hadn’t expected the content of their conversations to be so… eye-opening.
Luo Jingshu was playing the role of a devoted, desperate puppy, even outright asking to be Xiao Cheng’s “dog.”
And the kicker? Xiao Cheng didn’t want him.
How tragic.
Fu Ju stared at Xiao Cheng’s response on the screen, his face filling with sympathy for Luo Jingshu.
Xiao Cheng had outright told Luo Jingshu to “find someone else.” There was no way he’d come to the hospital for this guy in the middle of the night.
In fact, Fu Ju had a strong hunch: if he told Xiao Cheng that Luo Jingshu was sick, Xiao Cheng would likely just reply with, [Did he die yet?]
Still, Fu Ju hesitated.
At that moment, Luo Jingshu’s voice broke through his thoughts again:
“Brother Cheng, don’t leave…”
His voice was hoarse and faint, yet the words carried a weight that tugged at Fu Ju’s resolve.
Damn it.
Might as well give it a shot.
Fu Ju muttered to himself, ‘It doesn’t hurt to try. Who knows? Maybe Xiao Cheng will actually show up.’
He snapped a photo of Luo Jingshu’s pale, delicate hand with the IV needle in place. Then, hesitating only briefly, he typed out a message in Luo Jingshu’s voice:
[Brother Cheng, I’m sick.]
The image showed a lone hand hooked up to an IV in a hospital room—an image of loneliness and vulnerability, especially during the festive season.
If Xiao Cheng had even an ounce of sympathy left for Luo Jingshu, he’d at least respond.
Fu Ju sent the message, then anxiously stared at the screen, waiting for a reply.
Xiao Cheng received the message while he was sitting with He An, watching a New Year’s Eve TV special.
]It featured various celebrities and performers, and though He An wasn’t a die-hard fan, she enjoyed watching handsome men and beautiful women.
Xiao Cheng wasn’t particularly interested and spent most of the time fiddling with his phone.
He An knew he wasn’t into these kinds of shows and only stayed to keep her company. She appreciated the gesture and didn’t say anything.
Xiao Cheng was messaging Jiang Zihe when a notification popped up—a message from Luo Jingshu.
Opening it, he saw a photo of a slender, pale hand. The elegant, well-proportioned fingers were often praised as “artist’s hands,” but now an IV needle was embedded in the back of one, lending it a fragile air.
Luo Jingshu claimed he was sick.
If He An hadn’t been sitting beside him, Xiao Cheng might’ve laughed out loud.
What was the point of sending him this kind of message?
Did Luo Jingshu actually expect him to go to the hospital and keep him company?
Suppressing the smirk forming on his face, Xiao Cheng typed back:
[Still alive?]
Fu Ju, reading the reply: …
Exactly as he had predicted.
For a moment, Fu Ju didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t quite figure out what tone Luo Jingshu would use if he saw this message himself.
Would he get angry?
Probably not.
Judging from their previous conversations, Luo Jingshu had already humiliated himself to the bone in front of Xiao Cheng. He likely wouldn’t dare get angry, no matter how upset he felt.
He would just bottle it up inside, unable to retaliate—just like when Fu Ju had seen him in the office earlier.
After some thought, Fu Ju replied as he imagined Luo Jingshu might:
[Brother Cheng, I miss you so much.]
That should do the trick.
Moments later, Xiao Cheng replied:
[Oh.]
Alright, then.
This conversation was clearly going nowhere.
Fu Ju had only taken Luo Jingshu’s phone while he was semi-conscious; if Luo Jingshu woke up, he’d probably blame him for meddling.
Not wanting to risk saying too much and causing trouble for Luo Jingshu, Fu Ju quickly sent another message:
[I won’t bother you anymore.]
Xiao Cheng: …
What is this nonsense?
First, he randomly sends a message, gets rebuffed, and then suddenly says he doesn’t want to disturb him. That doesn’t sound like Luo Jingshu at all.
[Xiao Cheng: Is this really you?]
Did Luo Jingshu get hacked?
But that hand in the photo was undeniably his.
Was the message sent by someone else? A friend of his, perhaps?
Fu Ju was startled by how sharp Xiao Cheng was. He hadn’t expected him to be so perceptive. The messages he’d sent weren’t that suspicious, were they?
This just showed how little Fu Ju truly understood Luo Jingshu. He had only seen Luo Jingshu’s cold and ruthless demeanor toward others and assumed he’d act similarly with Xiao Cheng.
Sure, Luo Jingshu might act a bit submissive, but not to this extent, right?
Unfortunately, Luo Jingshu’s behavior with Xiao Cheng was exactly that—both obsessive and pitiful. He practically had the words clingy and desperate written all over him.
If it had been Luo Jingshu sending the messages, he wouldn’t have stopped at just playing the sick card. He’d have pushed until he got some sort of comforting response.
Fu Ju didn’t dare respond further, and Xiao Cheng, increasingly confused, nearly blocked the contact entirely.
Was it really a hack?
Soon, Xiao Cheng put the matter out of his mind.
The New Year’s Eve program was still playing when He An began to feel sleepy. She urged Xiao Cheng to head upstairs to bed.
Xiao Cheng, still scrolling on his phone, walked toward his room. Just as he reached the door, someone suddenly popped out, startling him.
“Brother!”
Xiao Ziyue’s eyes sparkled as she stared at him. “I have something to tell you.”
The two siblings went to Xiao Cheng’s room. Xiao Cheng sat on the bed’s edge while Xiao Ziyue sat at the headboard, her legs swinging cheerfully.
“What is it?” Xiao Cheng asked.
Xiao Ziyue swayed her legs, clearly in a good mood. “You haven’t been back in so long.”
It hadn’t really been that long. But every previous holiday, Xiao Cheng would spend time with Xiao Ziyue. For her, this was the first time her brother had been away for so long.
“Did you bring me a gift?”
Xiao Cheng: …
He’d completely forgotten about that.
When he came home earlier, it had been dinner time. Bai Yiheng was there too, and Xiao Ziyue, who had held back her words for hours, finally seized her chance to speak.
“You’re so heartless, not even a gift for your beloved sister.”
While complaining, Xiao Ziyue pulled a bag from the foot of the bed. “Good thing I thought of you.”
“Open it!”
Xiao Cheng opened the bag to find a necklace inside.
“You must wear this tomorrow!” Xiao Ziyue insisted.
The necklace wasn’t expensive but meaningful—it was something she had bought with her scholarship money.
Xiao Ziyue had spent a long time choosing the perfect gift for her brother.
Ever since she’d felt Xiao Cheng growing distant from her, Xiao Ziyue had planned to give him something meaningful. Although his attitude had since returned to its usual warmth, she had stuck to her plan.
Moved, Xiao Cheng handed the necklace to Xiao Ziyue. “Help me try it on.”
Xiao Ziyue leaned closer and clasped the necklace around his neck. The cool silver chain rested against his skin.
Suddenly, Xiao Cheng’s mind flashed to another necklace—the one he’d found in his apartment last time.
He had sent a photo of it to a well-known designer online, but they didn’t recognize it. The designer had even shared the photo, but no one knew its brand, though many praised its beautiful design and asked where it was from.
Xiao Cheng became increasingly certain that the necklace was custom-made, but its design was never publicly released.
He had intended to ask He An about it but had forgotten amidst the chaos of recent events. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity.
Taking out his phone, Xiao Cheng pulled up the necklace photo.
“Ziyue, take a look at this necklace for me.”
He handed her the phone. “Does it look familiar to you?”
Was this necklace a gift from someone to its original owner?
Xiao Ziyue glanced at the photo. “Never seen it before. Did you buy it?”
Xiao Cheng had scoured the original owner’s apartment for clues but found nothing useful. He’d also checked his phone and found no related orders or chat records.
“You don’t know either?”
If it wasn’t a gift, where did the original owner get that necklace?
And those two letters—what did they mean?
“I’ve never seen you wear it before. How do you even have this picture?” Xiao Ziyue looked at him curiously. “Is it your necklace?”
Xiao Cheng grew more confused. “No, I was just wondering. Do you know how I could find the designer of this necklace?”
Xiao Ziyue stuck out her tongue. “I don’t know much about that. You shouldn’t be asking me.”
After thinking for a moment, she added, “Sister Chu An, on the other hand, would know. Her family has a jewelry business, and she knows a lot of designers in the industry. You could ask her.”
Xiao Cheng’s eyes lit up. “Then I—”
Before he could finish, Xiao Ziyue huffed in dissatisfaction. “You’re going to her house tomorrow anyway. Just ask her in person then! Now come over and look in the mirror to see how the necklace looks.”
Xiao Cheng exhaled, a smile appearing on his face. “Alright, whatever you say.”
–
The next day, they really were going to Chu An’s house.
Chu An’s father had a particularly close relationship with Xiao Yu, and during the New Year festivities, the Xiao family was always invited to the Chu family’s gathering.
Xiao Cheng wore the necklace Xiao Ziyue had given him and even styled his look carefully.
It was his first time attending such an event as the eldest son of the Xiao family after coming of age. The entire family took it seriously, as Xiao Yu planned to formally introduce Xiao Cheng to everyone as his heir.
Upon arriving, Xiao Cheng realized how large the gathering was. It was far livelier than the previous events he’d attended.
The New Year’s timing brought many families together, making the atmosphere especially relaxed and festive.
Xiao Yu led Xiao Cheng around to greet people. Xiao Cheng maintained a polite smile, standing tall as he mentally matched the faces before him with the photos he’d memorized.
Then, without warning, his eyes met Jiang Ying’s.
Ah, the scumbag was here too.
Of course, he’d be here. Given Jiang Ying’s status, his absence would be more surprising.
Jiang Ziher had mentioned that his brother had been especially busy recently, but Xiao Cheng couldn’t tell. Jiang Ying, ever mindful of appearances, was immaculately dressed and showed no sign of exhaustion or anxiety.
When Xiao Yu spotted Jiang Ying, his expression turned sour briefly before being replaced by a cordial smile.
“Mr. Jiang is here as well.”
“Mr. Xiao.” Jiang Ying glanced at Xiao Cheng, his smile insincere.
In terms of seniority, Xiao Yu was technically a generation above Jiang Ying. However, given their comparable status, Jiang Ying never treated Xiao Yu as an elder.
Xiao Yu gave a hearty laugh and clapped Jiang Ying on the shoulder. “How have you been lately, Mr. Jiang?”
Still nursing injuries, Jiang Ying winced internally as Xiao Yu’s hand landed on a sore spot. Anger flicked his face, but he remained motionless, pretending not to feel a thing.
“Thanks for asking, Mr. Xiao. I’ve been doing well.”
The reality was that Xiao Yu wouldn’t be doing so well soon.
Jiang Ying sneered inwardly. He’d let the Xiao family enjoy their moment of glory for now. Soon enough, it would be his family’s turn to shine.
Xiao Yu withdrew his hand, and as he looked at Jiang Ying’s fake smile, he couldn’t help but think of how this man had almost taken advantage of his son. His own expression darkened.
The peculiar tension between the two didn’t go unnoticed by the people around them, who were left puzzled.
The atmosphere grew a little strained until a voice broke the silence:
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Jiang. Have your injuries healed?”
The familiar voice carried a hint of amusement, though its tone was unmistakably sarcastic. Jiang Ying’s expression froze.
Luo Jingshu stepped forward from behind, standing next to Xiao Cheng. His gaze lingered greedily on Xiao Cheng’s face before he reluctantly pulled his eyes away, seemingly mindful of the crowd.
Then he turned to Jiang Ying, his gaze now cold. “Mr. Jiang, when shall we have another… sparring session?”
Jiang Ying could hear the threat in his words. Sparring? That was just a euphemism for Luo Jingshu beating him up one-sidedly.
The implication was clear: if Jiang Ying dared make a move on Xiao Cheng again, Luo Jingshu wouldn’t hesitate to teach him another lesson.
Jiang Ying’s face darkened for a moment before he forced a smile, concealing his emotions from the others. “You’re joking, Jingshu. I didn’t even see you earlier.”
The implication was clear: Jiang Ying thought Luo Jingshu had no business being here.
Luo Jingshu himself didn’t particularly enjoy appearing in public. Most of the time, it was Fu Ju who handled things for him, which meant many people around didn’t recognize him.
A murmur rippled through the crowd as people whispered amongst themselves, likely trying to figure out Luo Jingshu’s identity.
“Mr. Jiang, your words are rather strange. If you’re allowed to be here, why can’t I?”
Luo Jingshu took a small step forward, partially shielding Xiao Cheng with his body in a gesture that radiated protectiveness. His voice turned cold as he addressed Jiang Ying, “Don’t you agree?”
He didn’t bother to spare Jiang Ying’s feelings, speaking bluntly. Jiang Ying felt stifled and annoyed but knew well enough that this was just how Luo Jingshu was.
Luo Jingshu had always been the type to express his emotions freely. If he was angry, he’d let it out immediately. His personality was abrasive and cold, almost like a madman.
Jiang Ying had witnessed Luo Jingshu’s ruthless treatment of others too many times to be surprised by his attitude now.
In fact, if Luo Jingshu had been cordial or pretended to get along with him, Jiang Ying would have suspected some kind of trap.
Still, Jiang Ying wasn’t planning to confront him just yet. With the decisive showdown only a couple of months away, he decided to endure Luo Jingshu’s arrogance for a little longer.
The last grudge—Jiang Ying vowed he would settle it!
Thinking of this, Jiang Ying lost interest in entangling with the group any further. He casually found an excuse and went to talk with someone else.
Luo Jingshu let out an almost imperceptible scoff. But when he turned to look at Xiao Cheng, his demeanor shifted into one of silent, pitiable innocence.
Xiao Cheng remembered that just last night, Luo Jingshu was still hooked up to an IV. And yet today, he was full of energy?
Instinctively, Xiao Cheng glanced down and noticed a faint needle mark on the back of Luo Jingshu’s hand. The small red spot stood out clearly against his pale skin.
So the IV was real.
At least Luo Jingshu hadn’t gone so far as to lie about that.
Before Xiao Cheng could say anything, Xiao Yu spoke up. “When did you get back?”
Surprisingly, the question was directed at Luo Jingshu.
Xiao Cheng was briefly taken aback. When did his father and Luo Jingshu become so familiar? Judging from the tone, it seemed they were in contact privately.
“This morning,” Luo Jingshu replied.
He had gone to City A for work, but mainly to be close to Xiao Cheng. With Xiao Cheng no longer there, he had no reason to stay either.
Xiao Yu snorted coldly, his gaze sweeping over Luo Jingshu. “You’d better be back for work.”
Luo Jingshu didn’t respond verbally, but his eyes wandered back to Xiao Cheng, openly expressing his true intentions.
The intensity of his gaze was almost tangible. Xiao Cheng suddenly felt his skin heating up, as though Luo Jingshu’s stare might set him ablaze. Afraid that others might notice, he lowered his voice and said, “Stop looking at me.”
Luo Jingshu licked his slightly dry lips. “I can’t even look at you now?”
Not touching, not kissing, and now not even looking—was there anything he could do?
Xiao Yu had turned his attention to chatting with others, temporarily unaware of what was happening on their side. Xiao Cheng seized the moment to reply, “No.”
It might have been fine if it were a normal look, but Luo Jingshu’s gaze?
It was like a starving wolf spotting a piece of delicious meat. His eyes didn’t blink, as if he wanted to pounce on Xiao Cheng and devour him the very next second.
Luo Jingshu’s expression dimmed, and his face showed a trace of bitterness. He knew Xiao Cheng wasn’t acting shy—he simply didn’t want others to see anything that might suggest a connection between them.
In other words, Brother Cheng didn’t want to be associated with him, not even through speculation.
A sharp pang pierced Luo Jingshu’s heart, but he managed to keep a faint smile on his face. “Brother Cheng, you’re so bossy.”
“I’m just looking,” he said softly.
Xiao Cheng: ??
That’s bossy?
No, Luo Jingshu’s gaze was the issue!
Xiao Cheng scoffed coldly. “Disobedient dogs—no wonder nobody wants you.”
Now he understood. Luo Jingshu truly was a dog!
Luo Jingshu rubbed his fingertips together, resisting the urge to touch Xiao Cheng’s face.
Brother Cheng probably didn’t realize how irresistible he was. His aloof and dismissive expression, paired with his eyes glistening softly, made one want to shatter that icy demeanor and bully him until he cried.
The longer Luo Jingshu stared, the greedier his gaze became—so intense it was impossible to ignore.
Yet outwardly, he maintained an emotionless facade, making his gaze seem indifferent and unbothered to onlookers.
If it weren’t for the occasion, Xiao Cheng would have loved to punch him right then and there.
Taking a deep breath, Xiao Cheng suddenly spotted Chu An in the crowd.
Delighted, he quickly excused himself with a few words to Xiao Yu and approached her.
Luo Jingshu followed close behind, his long legs easily catching up. “Brother Cheng, where are you going?”
Following Xiao Cheng’s line of sight, Luo Jingshu’s gaze landed on Chu An. His expression grew even colder, his dark eyes radiating a chilling aura.
Startled by his glare, Chu An hesitated before hurriedly shifting her focus to Xiao Cheng. “Xiao Cheng!”
Oblivious to Luo Jingshu’s mood, Xiao Cheng didn’t even look back as he said, “Stop following me. You’re so annoying.”
Luo Jingshu’s steps halted abruptly as if rooted to the ground. His tall, straight figure stood frozen, watching Xiao Cheng walk away without a backward glance.
His tightly pressed lips and cold, hard expression betrayed the storm brewing within.
Chu An shivered involuntarily. “What’s going on between you two?”
“Didn’t you break up?”
Xiao Cheng, back turned to Luo Jingshu, replied without stopping. “Who doesn’t have a shameless ex?”
Chu An: “He’s kind of scary.”
That look just now seemed as though he wanted to tear her apart. Even now, Luo Jingshu’s gaze remained firmly fixed on Xiao Cheng’s retreating figure.
Xiao Cheng: “Ignore him.”
Lowering his voice, he added, “I need to ask you something. Do you have a moment?”
Chu An set down her glass. “Sure, let’s talk upstairs, okay?”
She led Xiao Cheng to the second-floor tearoom. “Tea?”
Xiao Cheng shook his head and pulled up a picture on his phone. “Can you take a look at this necklace for me?”
Chu An’s eyes lit up at the sight. “It’s beautiful.”
After examining it closely, she praised its design before asking Xiao Cheng a few questions. He answered all of them effortlessly, almost instinctively, as if he already knew the answers.
Chu An: “So, what’s your question?”
Xiao Cheng frowned slightly. “Can you figure out who designed it?”
Chu An raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it your necklace?”
Xiao Cheng hesitated. “It’s mine, but…”
Understanding dawned on Chu An, and she didn’t press further. “I’ll ask around. For a custom design like this, with such a distinct personal style, someone in the industry should know.”
Xiao Cheng let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. I’m only going to try.”
After exchanging a few more words, Xiao Cheng sent Chu An the picture and left her in the tearoom to make some calls.
When she finished her conversation and prepared to go downstairs, she was startled to find someone standing just outside the door, facing sideways.
When the figure turned, she gasped and instinctively took half a step back.
“You…what are you doing here?”
It was Luo Jingshu.
The tall, slender young man looked down at her, his gaze cold and heavy. “What did he tell you?”
Chu An’s face turned red, her voice trembling. “Don’t worry. I’m not interested in him.”
Not even the right gender!
Luo Jingshu’s eyes remained icy. “Answer me.”
Shuddering, Chu An instinctively replied, “He asked me to help him find a necklace.”
That should be okay to say, right?
Xiao Cheng had even sent her the picture without any secrecy, which meant others could know about it.
Even if the “other” was Xiao Cheng’s ex.
Luo Jingshu frowned. “A necklace?”
“What necklace?”
