Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Guangzhou had been lashed by days of torrential rain. With Typhoon Signal No. 9 predicted to make landfall in the southeast, workers arrived at Little Pavilion Garden to install storm barriers.

Unexpectedly, the typhoon dissipated mid-course—perhaps the centuries-old shrine in the area had worked its magic, weakening the winds to their lowest intensity before they reached Guangzhou.

As the city’s disaster alert was lifted, the villa arranged for workers to return and dismantle the protective coverings from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The weather was stiflingly hot and humid. Su He watched the workers toiling outside, glistening with sweat, and, grabbing a water pitcher, went to offer them drinks.

Just then, Executive Assistant Fang called the house. Su He accepted the task, changed his clothes, and dutifully took the car to South Australia Commercial Tower to pick someone up.

A light rain drizzled along the way.

South Australia Commercial Tower, the second tallest landmark along Guangzhou’s coastline, stood adjacent to Guangzhou Tower. Through the rain-streaked car window, Su He watched the tower’s spire grow ever closer, ever clearer.

As they neared the entrance, he spotted Sheng Jinyu from afar, emerging from the revolving door, surrounded by several black umbrellas. His figure, fragmented by the water on the car window, nonetheless exuded an undiminished aura of authority—tall, long-legged, and striking in every aspect.

Su He silently scooted over, leaving the inner seat—now warmed—for Sheng Jinyu.

The driver opened the rear door for Sheng Jinyu, letting in a damp, misty air. The driver informed them that an accident had blocked the usual route, so a detour would cause a slight delay.

Sheng Jinyu said nothing, merely nodding without acknowledging Su He.

The Cayenne merged into the endless stream of traffic, crawling through congested roads. Though Sheng Jinyu was always quiet, his silence in the car was even more pronounced, making the air in the entire cabin feel thin.

By the time they exited the car, the weather had cleared. Only when Su He saw the sign for "Pingcheng Clubhouse" did he realize Sheng Jinyu had actually brought him along for business!

Was this a test, or was he being led to his demise?

Su He asked no questions, simply trailing behind Sheng Jinyu as they entered. The lively atmosphere in the lobby was almost overwhelming, with a large screen looping the image of an elegant, well-preserved matron.

Today marked the annual birthday celebration of the matriarch of the Chen family. As always, the event was grand, drawing swarms of media—not just for the enviable display of affection, but also for the charity auction that was the night’s main attraction.

Guangzhou’s power dynamics were intricate. The Sheng family dominated real estate, finance, and ports, while the Chen family of Changnan held a monopoly on the jewelry trade, forming Guangzhou’s "Golden Triangle" alongside the gaming empire of Yan Yichen’s maternal family.

Zheng San had risen rapidly precisely because of his tenuous connection to a distant nephew of the Chen family.

This auction brought together the "Golden Triangle"—the venue provided by the Yan family, the event hosted by the Chens, and the Sheng family in attendance.

Though the three families presented a united front, their underlying tensions remained hidden beneath the surface, rarely exposed.

Su He suddenly recalled that Secretary Chen, who worked for Sheng Zonglan, also shared the surname Chen. He wondered if there was any relation.

During the auction’s preliminary events, Sheng Jinyu left the private room and stood by the side hall entrance, listening to Executive Assistant Fang’s report over the phone.

"...The owner of the Mercedes G-Class parked on the track that day was Chen Zhaoyuan, the youngest son of the Chen family. The track manager claimed it was an employee’s operational error that caused the scheduling mishap, but Chen Zhaoyuan and Sheng Zhilin had met the day before."

Executive Assistant Fang was referring to the car that had caused Sheng Jinyu’s pre-race accident.

That day, Sheng Jinyu had been practicing on a civilian track when an inexplicably parked car forced him to swerve and crash.

Sheng Zhilin was the grandson of Sheng Jinyu’s third granduncle.

They were distantly related cousins, the closest branch to the main lineage aside from Sheng Jinyu’s direct line.

The Sheng family tree was complex. Sheng Jinyu wasn’t the eldest son—he had an older sister, and Sheng Zhilin had an elder brother who was the eldest among them, followed by a crowd of younger siblings. The media often referred to Sheng Jinyu as "Third Young Master Sheng," while Sheng Zhilin was merely referred to as "Young Master Sheng."

Though the family was large, there was only one seat of power.

When the heir’s position seemed all but decided, the rest either accepted their place or schemed to take it. Sheng Jinyu’s third granduncle’s line belonged to the latter.

"Sheng Zhilin isn’t smart enough for this. He’s likely being used as a pawn by his father. Dig deeper in that direction," Sheng Jinyu instructed briefly before hanging up.

Yan Yichen arrived late.

Catching the tail end of the conversation, he couldn’t help but comment, "Grandpa Sheng just had a stroke and was hospitalized, and your granduncle’s side is already making moves against you. How desperate are they?"

"Has Sheng Zhilin arrived?" Sheng Jinyu turned toward the main hall.

Yan Yichen shoved his hands in his pockets and followed lazily. "He’s been here forever. I could hear him blustering from the upstairs duty room—loud as a foghorn. The guy’s hilarious. As a kid, he made you his rival, kept losing but never gave up. Hasn’t he realized he’s not even playing the same game?"

"He can’t keep his mouth shut. He’ll come to me today. If you’re busy, you can leave first."

Sheng Jinyu’s uncharacteristically thoughtful arrangement was oddly unsettling coming from him.

But with such a show unfolding, Yan Yichen wasn’t about to leave. He patted Sheng Jinyu’s shoulder, and the two entered the private room one after the other.

The moment they stepped inside, Yan Yichen noticed someone already seated in the VIP booth. He was about to ask who it was when he took a closer look.

It was a familiar face.

"Why’d you bring him?" Yan Yichen whispered to Sheng Jinyu, clearly surprised by Su He’s presence.

"Didn’t you say I should test him? He offered to cooperate," Sheng Jinyu replied matter-of-factly.

Yan Yichen grinned and draped an arm over his shoulders. "Damn, Third Young Master Sheng, you’ve got charm. Got him wrapped around your finger already?"

"..."

Sheng Jinyu ignored him.

Yan Yichen continued, "But this guy’s interesting. Just play along for now. If he becomes a problem, hand him to me. I’ll take care of it."

Sheng Jinyu elbowed him away lightly. "Get lost."

He wasn’t foolish enough to trust Su He outright. To see if this little snake would bite, he had to give it room to act.

Su He had been peeling nuts to the music on stage but stood when he heard footsteps. The stranger smiled and extended a hand. "Yan Yichen. Pleasure."

"Mr. Yan, hello." Su He greeted him politely.

This was Yan Yichen’s first time meeting him. The man before him was gentle, well-mannered, with a mellifluous voice and an unpretentious demeanor—hardly the "*thorny rose*" he’d expected. The mismatch was bizarre.

After looking Su He over, Yan Yichen nodded with a smile and dragged a chair over to sit.

But Su He suddenly spoke up. "Mr. Yan, please sit here instead."

He straightened the seat and waited expectantly.

Yan Yichen paused, glancing between Sheng Jinyu and Su He. "What’s the difference?"

He looked at the two seats and realized there was indeed a difference. Sheng Jinyu’s chair was on the right side of the table, with a cup of tea (no lid) and a small plate of hulled pine nuts on the left edge. Even the fruit in the platter had been pre-cut.

The other side? Just the tea the staff had set out earlier.

Was this special treatment a bit too obvious!?

Yan Yichen raised a brow and gave Sheng Jinyu a pointed look—*Why’s he treating you so well?*

Sheng Jinyu was no less surprised; he had no idea what this guy was up to this time.

Yan Yichen could only wave his hand resignedly and change seats.

Sheng Jinyu, however, stared at the items on the table for a while, his expression unreadable, as though deep in thought. It took him a long moment before he finally walked over and sat down.

The auction's first session had already begun. Though it was a charity event for welfare organizations, the quality of the items up for bid was exceptionally high.

From antique porcelain to masterpieces by renowned painters, and even handcrafted violins by top luthiers—the funds flowing to the organizers that night were impossible to estimate.

Su He sat beside Sheng Jinyu. For someone like him, a regular guy, such an occasion was entirely unfamiliar, and he was looking around with wide-eyed curiosity.

Before long, his phone vibrated in his pocket, the sudden ringing drawing the attention of the other two. He quickly pulled it out and turned off the alarm.

Then, glancing at Sheng Jinyu, he reminded him, "Mr. Sheng, it’s time for your medicine."

With that, Su He retrieved the small medicine box from his bag, placed it on his lap, and began counting out the pills Sheng Jinyu needed to take that day. Sheng Jinyu simply tilted his head, watching the meticulous way Su He sorted the medication, his face showing puzzled confusion.

Irritated, Sheng Jinyu turned his head away, taking a sip of tea to hide his reaction. But the moment the liquid hit his tongue, his brows furrowed sharply, his whole face changing.

"What is this?" Sheng Jinyu glared at Su He, his frown deepening.

It wasn’t tea at all—just something that looked like it.

Su He explained, "It’s *Huanglian Wendan Decoction* I brewed in the kitchen. 037 mentioned you’ve been struggling with poor sleep, light sensitivity, and noise sensitivity, so I asked a servant to get this prescription from a traditional Chinese medicine clinic in the west of the city. It doesn’t conflict with your Western meds, and once you recover and stop taking those, we can switch to another calming formula."

His tone was so matter-of-fact, as if going out of his way to procure a prescription and painstakingly brewing the medicine was perfectly normal.

Sheng Jinyu’s expression, however, suddenly turned strange.

This was the first time Su He had seen anything other than anger or indifference on his face. The way he stared at him wasn’t furious—more like bewildered.

Yan Yichen, watching from the side, saw things more clearly. He shared Sheng Jinyu’s confusion.

Chairman Sheng was hardly the doting father type who would order such care for his son, yet Su He was genuinely taking care of Sheng Jinyu.

What was he after?

Yan Yichen tsk-tsked twice, smiling at Su He with an ambiguous tone. "Not only peeled fruits but also specially brewed health tea? Maybe I should hire an assistant like you, Young Master Su. The benefits sound great."

Su He simply took it as a complaint about not getting any himself and generously poured a cup from his thermos, handing it over considerately.

Yan Yichen was amused by his perceptiveness and took a tiny sip—only to immediately spit it back out, utterly defeated.

Bitter. Bitter as sin.

"Now I understand the saying, ‘Like eating bitter herbs and being unable to complain.’"

He hastily rinsed his mouth with tea, almost gagging from the taste, completely forgetting his earlier suspicions about Su He.

Sheng Jinyu, having taken a big gulp, had his tongue left numb from the bitterness. Just as he reached for the teapot, Su He grabbed it first. "No, you can’t. You’re still on medication—no tea allowed."

Sheng Jinyu’s face turned green with frustration. "Are you punishing me for ignoring you? And in such a childish way!"

Su He flinched at his sudden raised voice, then decided the symptoms he’d told the doctor had been understated. Softly, he said, "The doctor said irritability, anger, and sleep disturbances are all signs of Gallbladder and Stomach Deficiency. Drink this for a couple more days, and you won’t be like this anymore."

"Irritable and angry?" Sheng Jinyu found him utterly absurd.

The answer was obvious, but Su He knew nodding would only make the young master more furious. So he simply stood up to fetch the water jug. "I’ll get you some warm water. Next time, I won’t brew it so strong."

"Next time?" Sheng Jinyu clearly hadn’t cooled down yet, snapping, "Stop doing unnecessary things like this in the future."

"Understood."

Su He responded but didn’t take it to heart. He might agree now, but he’d dare to do it again. Dr. Gu was right—Sheng Jinyu’s brain really had been messed up. Avoiding treatment would only worsen his temper. He couldn’t let the patient have his way.

What if Sheng Jinyu lost control in a rage and decided to chop him into pieces?

The two bickered back and forth, while Yan Yichen, having watched for a long time without managing to get a word in, found the whole thing fascinating.

Ever since that incident, Sheng Jinyu had been like a zombie. It had been a long time since he’d seemed this... alive.