Chapter 176 He Deserves to Die~

Chapter 176: He Had It Coming, Right?

Lin Wei left the office with a much lighter step than when she entered.

Clutching the half-leave, half-work order, she walked out the door with a look of pure happiness on her face.

Zhou Jin stood still, watching her leave the office before finally turning his gaze away.

He glanced at the two men inside the office—one lounging on the sofa scrolling through his phone, the other bent over his desk handling documents.

Between them stretched the length of an entire office, yet the air was thick with an unspoken understanding that no one else could break into.

He paused for a moment, then turned and left the office.

The Lu Group had a ton of work waiting for him. The boss didn’t want to be the boss anymore, so he had to take over.

The boss had run off to be someone else’s assistant, leaving him to be the one to take the boss's place.

As the elevator doors closed, Zhou Jin stared at his own expressionless face in the reflective elevator doors and suddenly felt that he must have owed Lu Lin a debt in a past life.

The office fell quiet.

Shen Qingci’s pen glided across the paper, signing one name after another, his movements unhurried.

His phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID: Uncle Fu.

“Sir,” Uncle Fu’s voice came through the receiver, tinged with hesitation, “Young Master Feng’s... boyfriend has shown up.”

Shen Qingci gave a soft 'Mm,' indifferent. “What does Feng Yuetian think?”

“Young Master Feng told him to get lost.”

“Then let him scram.”

Shen Qingci’s voice was calm. Uncle Fu acknowledged on the other end without asking further.

The call ended.

Shen Qingci put down his phone and returned to his paperwork. The moment the pen tip touched the paper, the screen lit up again. He caught a glimpse of a news push notification from the corner of his eye.

“Lu Changgeng of the Lu Group suddenly suffered a stroke yesterday. After emergency treatment, he is out of danger.”

“The Lu Group official account posted: Lu Changgeng, former director of the Lu Group, requires long-term hospitalization due to the stroke. His shares are now fully managed by Lu Lin, current president of the Lu Group...”

Shen Qingci’s gaze lingered on those words for a moment, then he lifted his eyes to the man fiddling with his phone on the sofa.

Lu Lin was leaning back against the sofa, one leg propped on the coffee table, his posture lazy. His fingers swiped across the screen, a faint, mysterious smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

Seeing this, Shen Qingci tapped the desktop with his knuckles, producing a crisp sound.

“Come here.”

Lu Lin instantly dropped his phone, tossing it onto the sofa, and stood up.

He strode over to the desk, pulled his chair over, and sat down right next to Shen Qingci. Wrapping his long arm around Shen Qingci’s waist, he leaned against his chest, tilted his head up, and looked at him with bright eyes:

“Brother? You miss Xiaoye?”

His voice was soft and syrupy, drawing out the last syllable with a clingy, coquettish tone.

His handsome face was so close that Shen Qingci could see the curve of his eyelashes.

Shen Qingci’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly.

He looked down at the man in his arms—tall, broad-shouldered, yet curled against his chest like an oversized dog, chin resting on his chest, looking up at him. Those eyes were so bright, brimming with laughter and undisguised adoration.

Shen Qingci reached out, his fingertip pressing against Lu Lin’s brow, and asked calmly:

“How did Lu Changgeng suddenly have a stroke?”

The finger was pale and slender, its pad cool against the skin of his forehead, making Lu Lin blink involuntarily. His expression was as innocent as a puppy caught red-handed being scolded:

“He had it coming, right?”

Hearing Lu Lin’s answer, Shen Qingci’s gaze traced his face, starting from his brow, moving slowly down the bridge of his nose, outlining every line between his brows and eyes.

Lu Lin felt a little uncomfortable under that gaze, his eyelashes trembling slightly, but he still kept his face tilted up, letting Shen Qingci look.

Shen Qingci’s finger slid down from his brow, along the bridge of his nose, and stopped at the corner of his lips.

The moment the pad of his finger pressed against his slightly upturned lips—

The phone rang.

Shen Qingci glanced at the caller ID: Feng Yuetian.

His finger paused on Lu Lin’s lips for a second, then he withdrew it and picked up the call.

Lu Lin’s eyes dimmed. He buried his face in Shen Qingci’s chest, nuzzling, his voice muffled and husky with pent-up desire: “Brother~”

On the other end of the line, Feng Yuetian heard that “Brother” that made his skin crawl, and his voice instantly grew tense: “Did I interrupt you guys getting it on?”

Shen Qingci looked down at the fluffy head nestled against his chest. He reached out and gently ruffled Lu Lin’s hair, his movements light, meant to comfort. Then he spoke coolly:

“We weren’t.”

“Don’t you guys want to try it in the office?” Feng Yuetian’s voice shot up a few octaves, growing excited, “I think your desk would be perfect for it.”

Shen Qingci’s gaze shifted to the desk in front of him.

A solid wood surface, wide and smooth, big enough for a person to lie on. A sudden image flashed through his mind: himself lying on that desk, Lu Lin moving above him, papers scattered across the floor, a pen rolling to the edge and falling off with a clatter.

The tips of his ears quietly turned red.

Snapping out of it, Shen Qingci spoke, his words coming faster: “What did you call about?”

Feng Yuetian finally got to the point, his voice coy: “Tonight, our research institute is holding a banquet. I can’t get out of going. Chu Yinzhan will be there too. Come with me, will ya?”

After a pause, Feng Yuetian added quietly, “Don’t bring Lu Lin. I’m afraid he’ll kill me.”

Shen Qingci glanced at the man in his arms, then looked away, giving a soft “Mm.”

“Brother? You’re going with Feng Yuetian?”

Lu Lin’s voice came from his chest, muffled, tinged with grievance and pleading.

His chin pressed against Shen Qingci’s chest, his head tilted up, eyes bright, lips slightly pouted, as he whined:

“I want to go too~”

Shen Qingci looked down at him, his fingers threading through Lu Lin’s hair—soft strands slipping through his fingers. He watched for a couple of seconds, then said flatly:

“You’re not going.”

Lu Lin’s pout deepened. He let out an “Oh,” pulled himself off of Shen Qingci, and obediently sat back in his chair. He pressed his legs together, hands on his knees, head bowed, radiating an aura of abandoned-puppy gloom.

Shen Qingci gave him a glance but ignored him.