NHWSG chapter 28

Sheng Zhao was curious about his affairs, so he remained silent for a moment, zipping his lips as a sign that he wouldn’t speak further.

Xing Yingzhu glanced at him, seemingly satisfied with his understanding, so he continued.

“I once lost something important.” Xing Yingzhu explained unintentionally, succinctly saying, “Someone told me that if I still wanted this thing, I couldn’t find it on my own. I had to wait for someone to help me find it.”

Sheng Zhao furrowed his brows in confusion. He now regretted being so pragmatic just now—because he obviously couldn’t refrain from asking questions while Xing Yingzhu was telling a story.

So, he had to settle for second best and began to use vivid facial expressions and body language to convey his confusion to Xing Yingzhu.

Xing Yingzhu watched him silently squinting and frowning for a long time, until he couldn’t bear the headache and rubbed his brow, saying, “Just ask.”

Sheng Zhao breathed a sigh of relief, as if he had finally taken a breath after holding it in for a long time.

“Who told you?” Sheng Zhao’s focus was quite peculiar, “Is this person trustworthy?”

“Trustworthy,” Xing Yingzhu said, “If there’s anyone in the world who knows the whereabouts of that thing, it’s probably her.”

“Wow—” Sheng Zhao took a sharp intake of breath, saying, “Then why doesn’t she just tell you the result directly instead of beating around the bush and making you wait?”

For a moment, Sheng Zhao almost suspected that he saw Xing Yingzhu grit his teeth.

“Because she took the thing herself,” Xing Yingzhu said.

Sheng Zhao: “…”

Shouldn’t this be called “stolen” instead of “lost,” Sheng Zhao thought.

But to avoid provoking Xing Yingzhu into hanging him out to dry on the seventh-floor window, Sheng Zhao wisely didn’t dare to say this aloud.

However, at this moment, he suddenly felt a surge of affection—he realized that his boss, despite his sharp tongue, hard heart, and ruthless methods, seemed to be such a naive and easily deceived big demon.

“You’re too honest!” Sheng Zhao exclaimed, “If she took your stuff, why would she give it back to you? She’s probably just fooling you.”

“I know,” Xing Yingzhu looked even calmer than him, “So what?”

Sheng Zhao looked at Xing Yingzhu with an affectionate gaze, as if he were looking at a tender cabbage, feeling that he was pretending to be strong.

“Well…” Sheng Zhao softened his voice and asked, “So, you always find a human to guard your door because you’re waiting for someone?”

Initially, that was the case, but later, when Xing Yingzhu realized that he had probably been deceived, he stopped caring about these things. However, having a human around was indeed convenient for him sometimes—he was lazy by nature, and as someone different from humans, living among them sometimes made him feel constrained. Having a human to take care of things spared him a lot of trouble.

So, even though he no longer held much hope of finding what he had lost, this habit persisted.

However, he couldn’t be bothered to explain too much, so he just grunted in response.

After thinking for a moment, Sheng Zhao, unsure of what prompted him, hesitated and asked, “Boss, did you save me because I can help you?”

As soon as Sheng Zhao uttered these words, he regretted it. He felt that the phrasing was not quite right, as if it sounded sour and somewhat aggrieved, similar to the probing question of whether someone is cheating in a relationship.

“Oh no,” Sheng Zhao thought, “I was just ridiculing Xing Yingzhu in my mind for being so effeminate, but now I seem even more effeminate than him.”

He swallowed back this statement in his mind several times, praying that Xing Yingzhu wouldn’t answer. Whether the response was “yes” or “no,” the conversation would take a weird turn.

However, Sheng Zhao quickly realized that he was overthinking it. Xing Yingzhu would probably never play by the rules. Hoping for him to be affectionate was like hoping for the sun to swallow the earth.

Xing Yingzhu furrowed his brows, showing a serious expression of disdain. “You who were fooled and almost eaten alive, help me?”

Sheng Zhao: “…”

Strangely enough, although the words were clearly impolite, Sheng Zhao strangely drew some kind of mental strength from them. He instantly forgot about the embarrassment and was revitalized.

He was even stirred by a strange sense of competitiveness. Boldly, right in front of Xing Yingzhu, he slammed the coffee table and said, “No, you haven’t even tried, so how do you know I’m not capable? Why don’t you tell me what you lost, and I’ll figure out a solution for you.”

Xing Yingzhu seemed to have anticipated this question and understood that if he didn’t brush off this “why guy” in front of him, he wouldn’t be able to peacefully watch TV today.

So, he simply muted the TV, turned his head to look at Sheng Zhao, and said seriously, “It’s my bones.”

Sheng Zhao: “…”

Sheng Zhao’s earlier bold declaration still hung in the air, and the disbelief on his face had not yet faded, but he froze in place like a living fossil, as if he had been turned to stone on the spot by a gust of wind.

Xing Yingzhu was familiar with his antics and knew that he was probably rebooting himself in his mind.

Sure enough, after a full minute or two, Sheng Zhao stiffly turned his head, a forced smile appearing on his face as he asked, “… What was that? I didn’t catch that just now.”

Xing Yingzhu smirked maliciously and repeated each word deliberately, “Bones.”

Sheng Zhao’s breath stopped, and he swayed in place for a moment.

“If you faint here, I’ll throw you into that bathtub behind you,” Xing Yingzhu’s nearly cold voice sounded in his ear, “If you drown yourself, don’t blame me for not saving you.”

Sheng Zhao gasped for breath, forcibly holding onto the broken thread of his mind with an extraordinary willpower, almost rolling his eyes but managing to stand still.

Xing Yingzhu found his efforts amusing, so he moved his fingers generously, summoned a stool from afar, and knocked Sheng Zhao’s knee from behind.

Sheng Zhao sat down with a thump, his expression blank.

“But, Boss…” Sheng Zhao asked absentmindedly, “Aren’t you a snake?”

Xing Yingzhu seemed reluctant to bring up this topic, furrowing his brows and reluctantly saying, “No.”

“Then what are you?” Sheng Zhao asked subconsciously.

“I’m a dragon,” Xing Yingzhu said.

Sheng Zhao: “…”

Two days later, Sheng Zhao closed the “Classic of Mountains and Seas” in his hand with a sigh of relief, finally understanding Xing Yingzhu’s background.

According to Xing Yingzhu’s account, he was fundamentally different from the grotesque creature at the bottom of the river. The “dragon” he claimed to be was enormous, able to cover the sky and obscure the sun, and had two wings on its back, dominating both the sky and the water—of course, the last sentence was added by Sheng Zhao himself.

Sheng Zhao was curious about Xing Yingzhu’s background, but Xing Yingzhu seemed to dislike talking about it. No matter how Sheng Zhao tried to coax him, he only managed to extract two sentences.

Fortunately, modern university students were good at using search engines. Sheng Zhao tried various keywords and compared them to Xing Yingzhu’s “almost five-digit” age, barely managing to find a species in the “Classic of the Great Wilderness” that matched.

“It… seems like it’s this word.” Sheng Zhao muttered to himself.

No wonder Xing Yingzhu’s tone was so disdainful when he mentioned that monster by the Poyang Lake shore. Now that he thought about it, Xing Yingzhu probably had the right to be disdainful.

However, mythological texts were too mysterious, and Sheng Zhao couldn’t reconcile the all-powerful creature described on paper with the beautiful person upstairs who loved bubble tea.

—But then again, regardless of whether it was true or not, according to Xing Yingzhu, the “dragon” he referred to himself as was long dead, and his bones were probably taken somewhere for some purpose. Trying to trace all this was futile, apart from satisfying his own curiosity, it was useless.

Now that Xing Yingzhu was just a big snake, Sheng Zhao had secretly touched his hand while he was asleep. Although it felt chilly, it still had warmth, and it didn’t seem like some eerie scene of possession.

Although he didn’t know how Xing Yingzhu had come “back to life,” judging by his demeanor when he mentioned this topic, Sheng Zhao could probably guess that the past was indeed untraceable.

He was pondering over these trivial matters when he heard a doorbell ringing outside the building.

He snapped back to reality, pushed the books on the table aside hurriedly, grabbed the keys from the messy tabletop, stuffed them into his pocket, and shouted, “Coming!”

Overall, Xing Yingzhu was not a bad boss and didn’t have the habit of being harsh on his employees.

These past few days, Sheng Zhao had just returned from Shanghai, and Xing Yingzhu had “thoughtfully” given him some time off, not assigning him to work as a chef anymore but restoring his esteemed status as a food delivery personnel.

Sheng Zhao received the delivery box from the delivery guy, thanked him, and then went upstairs to the seventh floor by the elevator, knocking on the door.

Since Xing Yingzhu had dropped his ideals after his downfall, he couldn’t be bothered to walk through the process of opening the door. Almost every time, he used his anti-human method to open the door for him.

Sheng Zhao was already used to it. He changed his shoes at the door and walked in, but to his surprise, he didn’t see Xing Yingzhu on the sofa.

“Boss?” Sheng Zhao put the delivery box on the coffee table and curiously peeked into the room.

Suddenly, there was a gushing sound behind him. He turned around and saw Xing Yingzhu emerging from the bathtub, dripping wet.

Sheng Zhao was startled, instinctively turned his face away, his heart pounding. He thought his career had taken a bizarre turn—first flirting with the boss on his first day of work, and now witnessing the boss in the bath scene.

“At least this should be a stable job,” Sheng Zhao thought humorously. “Xing Yingzhu probably won’t fire me.”

After a moment, when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, Sheng Zhao dared to shift his gaze away from the sofa patterns.

Xing Yingzhu walked out of the bathtub, wearing a dark silk robe loosely tied at the waist. He didn’t even spare a glance at Sheng Zhao, passing by him to sit on the sofa and open the delivery package.

Sheng Zhao breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Boss, you should eat first. Shall I leave?”

Xing Yingzhu made a sound of agreement, then said, “Wait.”

Sheng Zhao paused and looked at him in confusion.

Without lifting his head, Xing Yingzhu reached out and tossed something over.

A thin card landed on the coffee table with a crisp sound, sliding towards Sheng Zhao.

Sheng Zhao was slightly stunned.

He was too familiar with the appearance of this card, recognizing it at a glance—it was the pitiful access card he had “sacrificed” before.

“Just this once,” Xing Yingzhu said.