Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was just a minor repair, yet Sheng Jinyu spent over two hours on it.

As he reassembled the engine into the model and prepared to leave, his foot accidentally knocked something over.

Sheng Jinyu frowned and looked down.

The cool light beneath his feet refracted through the crystal, casting a kaleidoscope of stars across the floor. The light spots projected onto his shoes, leaving behind dappled patterns of color.

Only then did he recall that someone had been there earlier, but he had shooed them away for being too noisy.

Standing still for a couple of seconds, Sheng Jinyu lifted his foot slightly before finally bending down to pick it up. It was unmistakably an award trophy, with Su He’s name prominently displayed.

Had he not accidentally kicked it, Sheng Jinyu might have truly walked right out.

Flexing his throbbing right hand, he silently turned and pushed open the door to the collection room.

Bright lights illuminated the room's corner, revealing a figure crouched on the floor, meticulously cleaning a model with a cloth and polish.

Su He kept his head down, his fair skin under the light resembling one of the displayed collectibles. His slightly long bangs fell over his eyes, obstructing his vision. He brushed them aside, shook his stiff neck, and then went back to work.

After finishing one model, he would hold it in his palm and study it with satisfaction, as if genuinely fond of it, before climbing the step stool to place it on the top shelf of the display cabinet.

Having repeated this up-and-down motion countless times, Su He suddenly missed a step, causing the ladder to lurch dangerously.

His heart dropped—this was bad!

He was about to take a nasty fall!

In the blink of an eye, a force braced the teetering ladder hard against the cabinet with a loud *bang*, crudely but effectively stabilizing it and preventing Su He from crashing headfirst onto the floor.

Su He steadied himself against the cabinet and looked up, only to see Sheng Jinyu already retracting his leg.

Without so much as a glance back, Sheng Jinyu walked out, leaving behind only a single sentence: "Go eat dinner."

His departing figure was resolute, tall and cold. Su He was suddenly reminded of a one-eyed stray cat he had once fed.

That cat had been filthy but remarkably handsome, snarling viciously and swiping at him whenever he got close. After being attacked a few times, Su He stopped approaching it, simply leaving food at a distance before walking away without attempting to pet it.

After a period of absence, he discovered the cat waiting for him at the usual spot where he left the food. It would run away when it saw him but then crouch nearby, furtively wagging its tail at him.

Maddening, yet pathetic.

Sheng Jinyu was kind of like that cat, but Su He didn’t expect him to wag his tail in friendliness. He just wanted to live peacefully, getting by day to day.

Since Sheng Jinyu had helped him this time, Su He felt he should say thank you—but at the same time, he didn’t want to, just like how he no longer wanted to get close after being scratched by that cat.

After some deliberation, Su He simply wrote a thank-you sticky note and stuck it to Sheng Jinyu’s bedroom door.

Of course, the next day, he found it in the living room trash can.

But at least that meant Sheng Jinyu had seen it. Su He let it go and stopped dwelling on it.

As time passed at Xiaoxie Garden, Su He gradually became accustomed to his temporary role as a "Personal Assistant."

He began learning from the nutritionist, overseeing Sheng Jinyu’s meals and coordinating with Gu Ming’s medical advice. Reminding Sheng Jinyu to take his medicine and do his rehabilitation exercises also fell under his responsibilities—especially since Sheng Jinyu was anything but compliant.

Sheng Jinyu hadn’t brought him home to pamper him like some honored guest, letting him lounge around without doing a thing. His original intention wasn’t just to keep this "security risk" under close surveillance, isolating Su He from any involvement in his personal or professional affairs.

There was another reason—one with malicious intent.

He had instructed Executive Assistant Fang to treat and demand from Su He exactly as they would a regular Personal Assistant. That meant Su He’s duties revolved around managing his daily necessities—everyday minutiae like what he ate and wore.

He demanded Su He do the job but refused to cooperate, never giving him a chance to do it well. That was what made it torture.

Sheng Jinyu’s goal was simple: a business school graduate like Su He would surely find such humiliation and squandering of skills unbearable.

Eventually, Su He would be the first to expose himself. And in this silent battlefield, the first to reveal their hand would be the certain loser.

Su He, however, remained oblivious, diligently and tirelessly knocking on Sheng Jinyu’s door.

He reminded him to take his medicine and do his rehab, only to be predictably ignored. Sheng Jinyu seemed intent on giving him the cold shoulder, enforcing a "three-no's approach" of no acknowledgment, no response, and no listening.

Su He noticed but assumed Sheng Jinyu was just in a bad mood that day or that the medicine was especially awful—never once considering that the problem might lie with himself.

Often, when Sheng Jinyu emerged from the gym soaked with sweat, he would run into Su He blocking the doorway, holding a towel in one hand and a bowl of medicine in the other, his large, wide, guileless eyes fixed stubbornly on him.

After being ignored, Su He would trail behind him like a quiet shadow, refusing to leave even when scolded.

He would follow until Eldest Young Master Sheng grew completely fed up and snapped, "Are you done yet?"

Su He would shake his head. "I will be, once you drink it."

"Do I seem too easygoing with you?" Sheng Jinyu would glare coldly.

Usually, when he said this with a frosty expression, his subordinates would already be rushing to apologize and frantically promising never to repeat their mistakes.

But Su He was clearly not the usual case.

He mumbled quietly, "Not really that lenient..."

Actually, he was absolutely awful.

Before Sheng Jinyu could explode again, Su He hurried to add, "If you don’t talk to me, I can’t guess why you don’t like taking it. You have to tell me so we can find a solution together."

At times like these, Sheng Jinyu would stare at Su He’s sincere, compliant expression, and his anger would inexplicably deflate, only to smolder resentfully in his chest.

It was like hitting a pillow—unable to land a blow yet unable to swallow it down either.

From then on, he treated Su He even more coldly.

Su He puzzled over it for a long time, deciding that the young master’s thoughts were truly inscrutable.

The next day, when delivering the medicine, he also brought along a small plate of air-dried sausages.

Sheng Jinyu’s gaze shifted from irritation to bewilderment—how could someone be so thick-skinned, weathering all his coldness day after day without faltering?

Then Su He extended the sausages with complete earnestness and began earnestly promoting them: "I tasted a bit of the medicine—it really is bitter. But I have a secret trick! When drinking bitter medicine, don’t eat sweets—sugar can’t mask the taste. You need something really salty like this. Just a little will numb your tongue, and then you won’t taste the bitterness!"

Watching him present it like a treasure, Sheng Jinyu studied Su He with a furrowed brow, the two locked in a silent standoff.

After a long pause, Sheng Jinyu picked up the bowl and downed the medicine in one gulp, slamming it back onto the tray before turning and walking away without a word.

This prolonged battle of wills ended with Su He’s slim victory. From then on, Sheng Jinyu no longer needed reminders to take his medicine.

Over the past half-month, the relationship between Su He and Sheng Jinyu had developed into a strangely peculiar state—

He dutifully carried out his tasks, but Sheng Jinyu seldom gave him the chance to interfere too much. Their relationship was like dropping dry ice into water—fizzing with bubbles and swirling mist, but never generating any real warmth.

Neither confrontational nor harmonious.

Su He gradually figured out Young Master Sheng's frosty, mercurial temper.

He steered clear of trouble, simply preparing two sets of neatly ironed outfits daily and hanging them on the temporary clothes rack, ready for whatever.

At first, Sheng Jinyu ignored his efforts, and Su He didn’t press the matter, continuing this seemingly pointless ritual every day.

For instance, after every meal, Su He would time it perfectly for Sheng Jinyu to finish eating, then approach with the medicine box in hand.

If the other’s expression was relatively mild, Su He would offer a few extra words, explaining which medicine treated what and the correct dosage.

But if Sheng Jinyu wore a face like thunder, clearly irritated, Su He would silently gather the necessary pills, hand them over, and make himself scarce.

That day, when hurried footsteps echoed from the staircase, Su He was watering plants by the bay window.

Sheng Jinyu, clearly in a hurry to get out, was on the phone—probably out of necessity to grab the outfit Su He had prepared.

The sapphire-blue shirt made him shine, though the gemstone brooch on his chest was no match for his striking face.

Su He smiled in satisfaction, happy with how sharp the ironing job was that day.

He bent down and resumed watering the plants.

Once Sheng Jinyu left, S037 floating over casually. "Su He, you haven’t spoken in days. Aren’t you bored?"

Su He, as if finally meeting someone who understood him, set down the watering can and moved closer to S037, confessed with a shy smile, "I am, 037. Talk to me, please. I’m afraid if I stay silent any longer, I’ll lose my voice."

"Sure!" S037 lit up excitedly, then fizzled out immediately.

Indignant on Su He’s behalf, it grumbled, "You must be really upset, huh? Jinyu’s freeze-out is unbearable for most. He’s been so harsh on you lately—it’s just too much!"

But Su He only smiled. "This is his home, after all. If he prefers quiet, we’ll talk less. Besides, it’s part of my job. At least I still have you when he’s not around."

"Hey, if you’re okay with that! Then let’s chat about something else. I’ve been tinkering with cloud algorithm models lately. Or… do you want to discuss Agatha Christie’s mysteries?" S037 asked enthusiastically.

Su He lowered his head in thought before voicing the question that had long piqued his curiosity. "Before that… can I ask how he got injured?"

Truthfully, Su He hadn’t been particularly curious about Sheng Jinyu—until coincidence intervened. The story he was working on involved the world of racing, and while researching online, he inevitably stumbled upon news about Sheng Jinyu.

Now, the internet was flooded with crazy theories about his injury and temporary retreat, growing increasingly absurd.

Some even claimed he’d been high on drugs, lost control, and crashed—almost believable enough to get him committed.

S037, however, didn’t beat around the bush. "The truth isn’t as exaggerated as the rumors. He just slammed into a parked car by the track during a practice session."

Noticing Su He’s confusion, S037 kindly elaborated, "Track rules strictly require that the circuit must be closed during practice—no other vehicles are allowed. The Young Master was driving at high speed, and it was dark. If not for his quick reflexes, he could’ve been killed!"

"Are you saying someone deliberately targeted him?" Su He countered.

S037 pouted (as much as an AI can pout). "That hasn’t been confirmed yet. But incidents like this have happened to him since childhood."

Sheng Jinyu didn’t return until very late that night.

Nearing midnight, the living room was silent. He sat alone in the darkness, arm resting on the chair, hand supporting his temple—completely motionless, like a statue frozen in the night.

The light from Su He opening the door fell across his face, and the "statue" abruptly stirred.

Sheng Jinyu winced at the brightness, scowling as he lifted his head to glare.

Su He caught the wariness and exhaustion in his bloodshot eyes and suddenly thought—this person seemed so very tired.

So he tiptoed into the kitchen, brought out a bowl of kept-warm bird’s nest soup, and wordlessly placed it on the coffee table before quietly retreating to his room.

When he passed the living room later that night on his way to the bathroom, he found the bowl empty. Su He silently returned it to the kitchen.

No communication was needed—yet they cooperated seamlessly.

Even with Sheng Jinyu’s constant coldness, Su He never grew angry. He was beginning to settle into this strangely pleasant routine.