Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The sound of the password lock echoed from the villa's front door as it swung open, and the driver wheeled Nan Liujing inside.

Upon hearing the commotion, Uncle Li stopped playing the thinker, straightened his tie, and walked briskly over, bowing respectfully. "Young Master, why are you back so early?"

"I'm not feeling well," Nan Liujing said, his gaze drifting toward the staircase.

"Where do you feel unwell? I'll call the family doctor right away to come and examine you."

"No need. Where's Shen Gali?"

Uncle Li's voice trembled as he replied, "Upstairs. And also, your younger brother, Young Master Feiyao, and F.L.'s young master, Hein, are upstairs as well."

Nan Liujing's eyes darkened. Add him to the mix, and they'd have enough for a full mahjong table.

He saw in the game that Shen Gali mentioned an extra person at home, and he'd assumed it was Shen Lanqing. But the appearance of these two was an unexpected "delight."

As he spoke, a child came down the stairs, followed by Nan Feiyao, then five bodyguards, and finally Shen Gali with slightly disheveled hair.

Nan Liujing and Nan Feiyao locked eyes. Nan Feiyao quickly turned his face away and said, "I came to see you, Brother. Now that I have, I'll be heading back."

Nan Liujing's gaze was dark and heavy. Came to see him? Then how would he not know that at this hour, he'd definitely be at the company?

When Hein heard Nan Feiyao say he wanted to leave, the child's thin eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. He pulled a phone shattered like a spiderweb from his pocket and waved it. "Want to leave? Don't want your phone back?"

Nan Feiyao cast a covert glance at his brother. Truth be told, this broken phone was a nuisance even in the house; he wouldn't normally want it. But it contained the unedited full video of him messing with Shen Gali.

This trip was a total loss.

He could only lower his head and stand to the side, his clenched fists like sandbags. Who'd have thought he'd be controlled by a child?

Walking halfway, Shen Gali, out of energy, sat on the stairs hugging the railing and said weakly, "Uncle Li, you handle it."

Uncle Li hurried over. After hearing Shen Gali's whisper, his eyes widened in shock. "This... this isn't good..."

Shen Gali squinted wearily, scattered light spilling through the gaps between his lashes.

"If you don't do it, there'll be more trouble ahead."

Uncle Li pondered for a moment, sighed, said "Understood," and scurried over to Nan Liujing, whispering in his ear as well. Then he wheeled him upstairs to change clothes.

*

"Smack!" Uncle Li pulled at his bow tie, and as it snapped back into place, he raised his arms and twirled elegantly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon! Welcome to the first-ever 'Perfect. Wife' Competition! I am your host, Li Dahai!"

"Beep-beep!" The black-suited bodyguards sitting cross-legged on the floor blew small trumpets and waved clappers, cheering enthusiastically, playing their part perfectly.

"Before the competition begins, allow me to introduce the judges for today's event." Uncle Li pointed to the sofa. "They are Mr. Nan Liujing, Executive President of Huanhai Electronics, and Mr. Shen Gali, a student from the School of Computer Science at Jinhai University."

Thunderous applause.

Nan Liujing and Shen Gali sat side by side, their expressions perfectly matched.

Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?

"Ah~ what an exciting competition. I've lived nearly sixty years, and this is my first time hosting an event. No regrets in life." Uncle Li clutched his chest, tears in his eyes.

The bodyguards: "Cut the crap, who cares about you? Get to the next step!"

"Now, allow me to introduce our two contestants—" Uncle Li raised a hand, and two bodyguards pushed aside a makeshift screen.

Then, Hein, dressed in a bespoke suit, made a graceful entrance amid applause, with a half-dead-looking Nan Feiyao standing beside him.

"They are Mr. Hein, the sole heir of the F.L. Group, and Mr. Nan Feiyao, the second young master of Huanhai Electronics!"

"The rules are as follows: a total of three rounds. After each round, the judges will jointly score, taking the average. Best of three wins. The ultimate victor will have the privilege of receiving the 'Perfect. Wife' Award personally presented by Mr. Shen Gali!"

Hein corrected, "It's not the 'Perfect. Wife' Award. It's the chance to become Shen Gali's wife."

Nan Liujing's gaze immediately shifted to Shen Gali beside him.

He saw the man leaning weakly against the sofa like a lifeless puppet, his gaze fixed somewhere unknown.

"Perfect wife." Nan Liujing let out a light laugh. "Yours, is it?"

Shen Gali said nothing.

"So you're the top. I never knew."

Shen Gali responded with brainwaves: There are plenty of things you don't know.

Uncle Li cleared his throat and snapped his fingers.

Two bodyguards came up carrying two basins and a pile of clothes.

"First round: As a perfect wife, do you possess the ability to turn filth into cleanliness? I got these clothes with Mr. Nan Liujing's permission. Some can only be hand-washed, not machine-washed, and have strict requirements for water temperature, detergent dosage, etc. Contestants must carefully read the washing instructions before washing."

Shen Gali: Let the world feel the pain I've endured.

Uncle Li pointed at Hein and Nan Feiyao respectively. "The competition is about to begin. Who will be the winner—the modest, cautious, diligent, and endearing one, or the shifty-eyed, ill-intentioned one? Let's wait and see!"

Nan Feiyao: Ill-intentioned...

The competition whistle rang out through the hall. Hein immediately picked up a garment and read the washing instructions.

As he read, his expression darkened...

A long moment later, he pulled Uncle Li aside and whispered, "Uncle Li, now's your chance to shine. Tell me, what's this character?"

Uncle Li suppressed a smile and replied respectfully, "Dí. It basically means 'to wash.'"

Understanding the meaning, the child scurried off to fetch water, then pulled out an electronic scale to weigh the detergent.

He rolled up his sleeves. Not even as tall as the sink, he could only stand on tiptoe, scrubbing the clothes vigorously.

Nan Feiyao wore an ashen expression. He dipped the clothes in water casually, swirled them around, then tossed them into the dryer. "I'm done."

Hearing that, Hein panicked. He scrambled onto the sink and squatted there, picked up the collar and examined it closely for any remaining stains. His serious concentration made it look like he was studying some precision instrument.

The waterlogged shirt was as heavy as an iron anvil. His little hands couldn't hold it all at once, so he hugged it to his chest and squeezed out the water.

In an instant, the child's shirt was completely soaked.

Half an hour later—

Uncle Li pulled out two shirts from the dryer. "Time's up. Judges, please examine them carefully and give your scores. Remember, no favoritism!"

Hein stood with his hands behind his back, chin raised proudly, a confident smile on his lips.

I heard that unlucky opponent of his doesn't even know how to do laundry. If he can't even do laundry, what makes him think he can become Shen Gali's wife? He'd be laughed out of town.

But the shirt Nan Feiyao had washed was so clean you could wipe your mouth with it. He'd taken the first round, alright.

Shen Gali and Nan Liujing inspected both shirts and gave their scores.

Uncle Li took the score sheet and smiled. "The winner of the first round is—"

Hein shot Nan Feiyao a disdainful glance and sneered, "Hmph, a mere loser—no match for me."

"—Nan Feiyao!"

A dead silence fell.

The bodyguards' hands, raised to applaud, froze midair.

Hein and Nan Feiyao were both stunned: "???"

Hein refused to accept: "I protest, that call was rigged! I demand the score sheet be made public!"

Uncle Li shrugged, crouched down to Hein's level, and handed the sheet over.

Hein snatched it, and the next second, his big, bright eyes widened.

Nan Feiyao: 10/100

Hein: 0/100

"Why zero...?"

Nan Liujing, rarely participating in such pointless competitions, explained: "These two shirts can't be wrung out, or they'll crease."

With that, he picked up the shirt, now wrinkled like a rag: "How am I supposed to wear this?"

Hein bit his lip, trembling slightly, unable to believe he had lost to that lowlife.

"But I washed it clean—every nook and cranny, guaranteed spotless," he argued desperately.

Uncle Li cleared his throat and gently broke the bad news: "Mr. Nan is chauffeured everywhere, mostly stays in the office, and changes clothes daily. So in reality, there were hardly any stains."

Hein's mouth trembled even more.

Nan Feiyao won, but he didn't feel happy.

What was he here for again? Oh right—to film a compromising video of himself and Shen Gali, provoke Nan Liujing, help him awaken his dark, twisted side, crush Shen Gali, and win back Shen Lanqing's heart.

But why was he washing Nan Liujing's clothes?

Why.

Seeing tears welling up in the kid's eyes, Uncle Li quickly comforted him: "It's okay, only the first round is over. Give it your all in the next two."

Hein clenched his jaw, turned quickly to wipe his eyes, then turned back with the same aloof expression: "A real man faces failure head-on. Nan Feiyao, consider yourself lucky this time. But don't expect Lady Luck to favor you forever."

His confident tone mixed with his childish voice created an oddly endearing contrast.

Nan Feiyao: "..."

Speechless. As in, so speechless he was beyond speechless.

"Second round! As they say, the way to a person's heart is through their stomach. I wonder if our two contestants can win over both the hearts and taste buds of the judges in the upcoming cooking challenge."

The scene shifted to the kitchen.

Uncle Li put on white gloves and ceremoniously cut open the wax-sealed menu with a paper knife, every move like a Michelin-starred chef.

"Competition dish: Vinegar-Shredded Potatoes. Time limit: thirty minutes!"

Vinegar-shredded potatoes, the simplest home-style dish, but also the ultimate test of a cook's knife skills. Fearing Hein might cut himself, Uncle Li offered him protective cut-resistant gloves.

Hein coldly refused: "Don't treat me like a kid. I don't need them."

Uncle Li raised an eyebrow: "Your choice."

But he still stood by the kid, watching his hands just in case.

On the other side.

Nan Liujing lowered his eyes, flipping through a travel magazine.

"That kid seems to like you," he said casually.

Shen Gali glanced up slightly. Whether from the vinegar potatoes being stir-fried or something else, he sensed a sourness in the air, right next to him.

"Children don't understand these things. He just wants someone to play with him."

From what Hein's mother said, the kid was always busy—all kinds of instrument and language classes filled his schedule. And because he came from a wealthy family, other kids were told by their parents not to play with him, for fear of offending the family with one wrong word.

Different identities, same fate.

Shen Gali remembered elementary school. During PE class, if he wanted to play soccer with classmates, they would avoid him, huddling together with fearful expressions:

"Mom said you have a heart condition and we can't play with you, or if something happens to you, we can't bear the responsibility."

Shen Gali understood everything. He couldn't blame them.

So he could only manage a weak smile, crouching under the parallel bars with a pale face, whispering, "It's okay. I'll just watch you guys play."

For a young child, it was as if the sky had fallen, to be isolated at the very age when they most needed playmates.

Nan Liujing, noticing he had stopped speaking, subconsciously looked up at him.

He was gazing out the window, his dark, slender eyelashes curling upward, delicate water light rolling on the arc of his eyelids, wetting the lower lashes.

Nan Liujing silently watched. Though his face remained aloof and distant, his heart trembled for a moment.

His rolling Adam's apple, the fingertips rubbing his knee—all seemed to hint at his mood.

What was this person thinking?

A little… curious.

"Ding, ding, ding! Time's up! Contestants, please present your results!" Uncle Li's shout broke their chain of thought.

They looked up to see Uncle Li walking out with two plates of shredded potatoes.

"A reminder: to ensure fairness, I will serve the dishes. Only I and the two contestants know which plate belongs to whom. The two judges just need to taste both and pick the one they think tastes best."

Shen Gali sat up seriously for once, examining the two plates of shredded potatoes in front of him.

Well... their cooking was equally bad, and both were visibly giving off toxic fumes that could probably kill a cow on the spot.

He picked up his chopsticks and first reached for the plate of shredded potatoes on the left.

As he did so, he quietly glanced up to observe Hein's expression. The moment he moved his chopsticks, Hein's brows furrowed, his face tightening—clearly nervous.

So, this plate is Hein's.

Forget it, he'd give the kid a chance. If he got eliminated outright, he'd probably make a huge fuss. Even if he lost, he had to lose fair and square.

Shen Gali took a bite of the shredded potato—

He almost threw it up. He reached for a tissue and covered his mouth.

One single shred would be enough to choke a cow to death.

A chaotic mix of strange flavors mingled, and the shreds had completely lost any resemblance to shreds—on par with his own skill level.

He forced down the nausea and gritted out: "This one... is delicious... very much so..."

Then he took a bite from the other plate—just as awful—and said, "This one's no good."

Nan Liujing tasted both plates of shredded potatoes next. Though both were hard to swallow, the second plate was barely edible.

He raised his chopsticks toward the second plate when suddenly a soft hand touched his thigh.

Then it pinched him hard.

Shen Gali muttered under his breath, "You also think the first plate tastes good, right?"

Nan Liujing lowered his voice: "Planning to rig the judging?"

Despite his words—as if indignant at the injustice—after a moment's pause, he picked up another shred from the first plate and put it in his mouth.

"I also think the left plate is delicious."

A clatter sounded.

As soon as the words fell, Hein stumbled back a few steps, his face turning deathly pale, bloodless lips trembling uncontrollably, as if he wanted to say something.

Shen Gali didn't get it. What was with this kid? Was a compliment really that exciting?

Uncle Li shook his head regretfully. "Then, according to the best-of-three system, I declare that the winner of the 'Perfect Househusband' title is... in two straight rounds... contestant Nan Feiyao."

Shen Gali: ?

So the first plate was actually made by Nan Feiyao?

Kid, can't blame me—you were the one making that face that led to the misunderstanding.

Nan Feiyao was finally free. He said to Hein, "It's over. Can I have my phone back now?"

The child stood in the corner, visibly draining of color, turning into a lifeless gray, then cracking into several small cracks, shattering with a crackle.

A bodyguard fished out the phone from Hein's coat pocket and handed it over. "Mr. Nan, sorry for today."

Nan Feiyao took the phone, said to Nan Liujing, "Got things to do," and left without looking back.

He only felt it was bad luck—not only toyed with by a little brat, but also having to wash Nan Liujing's clothes and cook. How annoying!

Even his favorite Lanqing had never received such treatment, and this guy got it for free.

"Little master, should we head home too?" the bodyguard asked respectfully. "A bet's a bet."

Hein stood motionless, as if he'd died the moment the results were announced.

After what felt like a century, the silent Nan villa finally erupted into ear-splitting wails.

Wave after wave of sobs grew stronger. Hein finally stood there like a lost child, wailing hoarsely, his small face flushed red.

The bodyguard sighed and quickly hugged the child, patting his head soothingly.

Hein simply couldn't accept that he, who'd ruled the world since birth, had lost to some commoner.

But he's still a kid. After all the commotion, he cried until he was tired, his voice weakening, and slowly fell asleep on the bodyguard's shoulder.

The bodyguards lined up and bowed apologetically to Shen Gali and Nan Liujing. "Sorry for the disturbance today. My mistress will come by to thank you another day. We'll be taking our leave now."

Uncle Li removed his little bow tie and followed them out to see them off.

Suddenly, Shen Gali also stood up and slowly walked behind Uncle Li.

At the door, the bodyguard carrying the child turned and nodded. "You can stop here. See you."

Shen Gali silently watched the child in the bodyguard's arms—so small, with trembling tears still clinging to his drooping lashes.

Then Hein's lashes suddenly fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.

"Shen Gali," he said hoarsely, with strong reluctance in his voice. "There's no such word as 'give up' in my dictionary of life. So I order you to wait for me until I'm eighteen. Then, I'll definitely come with a grand bridal sedan to marry you."

"Actually... even though I lost today, having so many people play with me... I'm still... really happy." His voice grew softer, his eyes weakly closed.

Shen Gali slowly raised his hand—a slender wrist with limp fingers. Now that's more like what a seven-year-old would say.

Then he gently flicked Hein on the forehead.

"Alright. Wanna go on a date next time?"

The only response was the sound of rhythmic breathing.

Didn't hear it? Fine.

Shen Gali turned to go inside.

"Mm... promise, pinky swear, no backing out." A childish, sleepy murmur sounded, and the boy even groggily extended his little finger.

Shen Gali let out a long sigh, gently touched his pinky, sealing the vow.

In the end, he really hated troublesome kids.

Shen Gali patted his sore shoulders, thinking to himself: It's finally over. He just wanted to go lie down and rest.

"Whoosh"—Uncle Li rushed over like a gust of wind to Shen Gali, standing respectfully. "It's now five in the evening. Allow me to read tonight's menu to you."

Then he winked at Shen Gali. "Tonight's menu is very simple. Do well and make the young master change his opinion of you."

Shen Gali weakly leaned against the wall, shaking his head. "No need. I don't care what he thinks of me."

All he had to do now was save up money quickly, mess things up, and wait till Nan Liujing couldn't stand it and asked for a divorce. Then he could find a dark little room to lie in until eternity. He probably didn't realize that even without trying, he'd mess things up anyway.

"Tonight's menu is only lean meat and vegetable congee. The young master is not feeling well today and needs something light."

Uncle Li handed the grocery money to Shen Gali: "You only need to buy vegetables and lean meat, but remember, the lean meat must be from a freshly slaughtered pig's tenderloin, and the vegetables must be the freshest just picked from the garden."

Shen Gali clutched the money, thinking to himself that the old man had too many demands. It was almost closing time; where was he supposed to find fresh vegetables?

He took the money and headed out. Nan Liujing, who had been lounging on the sofa, finally looked up from his magazine.

Uncle Li spoke up for him: "It seems Mr. Shen is also working hard to change your opinion of you. He's been very proactive with grocery shopping and cooking lately. This is a good sign. I believe he'll be able to cook you a healthy and delicious bowl of lean meat and vegetable congee tonight."

"Him?" Nan Liujing sneered coldly.

Uncle Li silently disagreed in his heart—people can change; it was just that the young master had too deep a prejudice against Shen Gali.

Meanwhile.

The butcher skillfully cut a large piece of pork tenderloin and threw it onto the cutting board: "How about this piece? Do you like it?"

Shen Gali didn't even glance at it: "Whatever."

"Sure thing~" The butcher tossed the meat onto the electronic scale: "Exactly one catty, thirty-three yuan."

Shen Gali shook his head: "I only want a hundred grams."

After all, only Uncle Li and Nan Liujing would be eating. A hundred grams was enough; eating too much meat could lead to high cholesterol.

The butcher stared wide-eyed and bellowed in a hoarse voice: "Who buys meat by the hundred grams?! You messing with me?!"

Shen Gali: "I do."

After a moment, his delicate eyebrows drooped slightly as he slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes glistening with tears: "Can't I just buy a hundred grams?"

The butcher looked at him and felt a sudden pang in his heart.

How could someone in this world look like that?

His teary-eyed look seemed to silently beg for understanding. Ah, he must be from a struggling family, can barely afford meat all year. How pitiful.

The boss cleared his throat. His tone was still gruff, but much gentler than before: "A hundred grams is... not entirely out of the question."

With that, he swung his knife again, cut a generous piece of fresh pork tenderloin, wrapped it up quickly, and handed it over: "Forget it, consider the extra a gift. Hang in there, there's nothing you can't get through."

Shen Gali didn't move: "I want exactly a hundred grams."

"It's a gift."

"I know. I don't like taking advantage of others," Shen Gali said with righteous indignation.

Except for Nan Liujing, he added silently in his mind.

The butcher was deeply moved. This young man, despite his difficulties, refused to accept charity. What noble character. Next time, I'll give him a discount for sure.

Shen Gali walked away with the hundred grams of pork tenderloin he bought for six yuan—a tiny piece, swaying lightly in the bag, feeling almost weightless.

Next, he needed to buy the freshest vegetables, ones just picked from the garden.

He scoured the market. At this hour, most of what was left were vegetables about to spoil, limp and droopy.

He couldn't find any. What to do?

Just then, two old women shopping passed by, shouting without a care: "Look at these vegetable vendors, all black-hearted. They sell almost-spoiled vegetables as fresh ones, only fooling those inexperienced young folks."

"Exactly. Tomorrow, let's go to the vegetable greenhouse in the suburbs. Pull them straight from the ground, definitely cheaper and better."

The word "cheaper" caught Shen Gali's attention.

The suburbs, huh?

Leaving the market, he found the nearest bus stop and studied the route board.

He wanted to ask someone which bus would take him straight to the suburbs, but his social anxiety held him back.

Then he saw the words "Eastern Suburb Garden."

Eastern Suburb Garden. Suburb? That should be it.

He thought about pulling out his phone to check, but typing on the old-school keypad stopped him. Trusting his instincts, he went for it.

It was rush hour. Most buses at the stop were packed, but the one heading to Eastern Suburb Garden had only a handful of passengers.

Shen Gali swayed on the bus, watching the blood-red sky outside gradually dissolve into inky black, while the interior of the bus slowly fell into darkness.

Nearly an hour later, he dozed off, vaguely hearing the bus's stop announcement.

When he woke up, the entire bus was empty except for him and the driver.

And the scenery outside had changed from bustling high-rises and bright lights to a silent, desolate mountain.

Black mountain peaks stretched into the distance, radiating an eerie, uninhabited bleakness.

The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror and said, "Young man, this is the last bus on this route. Are you sure this is your destination?"

Shen Gali nodded, said "Thank you, grandpa," and got off.

As he stood on the pitch-black mountain road, holding his pork tenderloin, he stood there, dumbfounded.

Something felt off.

But he dismissed it; vegetable greenhouses were often built in such remote places.

He took a step forward—

Tired. The mountain path was steep and tough to walk. He needed to rest first. Leaning against a giant rock, he slowly sat down and closed his eyes.

By now, night had fully descended. Uncle Li paced back and forth in the hall, his brows furrowed.

He went upstairs to the study and said to Nan Liujing, "Young master, it's already eight o'clock. Mr. Shen hasn't returned, and he's not answering his calls. Something might have happened. Should I go look for him?"

Nan Liujing adjusted his glasses. The lenses reflected the words "Breakup Plan 5.0." He said nonchalantly, "Don't bother with him. He'll come back after he's had his fun."

"And dinner..." Uncle Li asked with a frown. But it wasn't dinner he was worried about—it was Shen Gali, who had been out shopping for two hours.

"No dinner tonight. Uncle Li, you've worked hard all day. Go rest. I still have work to deal with. Don't disturb me."

Uncle Li hesitated for a long moment, as if wanting to say something, but finally replied, "Understood. You get some rest too," and left the room.

The night grew deeper. The bustling city grew quiet and fell into silence.

The rapid clicking of the keyboard rang out sharply through the quiet room, laced with a hint of irritation, clicking along at a brisk pace.

After a long while, Nan Liujing took off his glasses and wearily rubbed his brow.

He looked up at the clock on the wall; the hands had gone around several times and now pointed to "ten."

Ten o'clock.

He casually lit up his phone screen—completely silent—no missed calls or new messages.

He had heard before that Shen Gali was someone who loved to have fun, lived it up, and often stayed out all night—who knew, he was probably off partying with some trust-fund kid.

Now he was getting bolder, even daring to ignore calls.

An image vividly flashed in his mind of Shen Gali standing on a table at a nightclub, raising a glass high, bodies pressed up against other rich heirs, dancing lewdly.

"Bang!" He slammed his fist on the desk, the water cup shaking so hard it almost knocked off the small strawberry sticker stuck on it.

Shen Gali, don't you ever let me catch you in the act.

Nan Liujing scrolled through his contacts and made a call: "Special Assistant Lin, you asleep? Got something I need you to do."

"Ah, President Nan, go ahead. I won't be heading to bed anytime soon." Special Assistant Lin got out of bed, speaking loudly to mask the hoarseness in his voice from just waking up.

"Track Shen Gali's phone location."

"Ah... but President Nan, tracking someone's location without permission is illegal."

Nan Liujing closed his eyes and took a deep breath: "Do it. If I end up in jail, I'll take the fall. What are you afraid of?"

Special Assistant Lin sighed, went to his computer, ran a few checks, then said, "Found it, but there's no exact location. It might be an undeveloped area, so the location system hasn't updated yet. I'll send you the address."

After receiving the address, Nan Liujing saw the general location was near Dongjiao Garden.

He had heard before that a secret nightclub was built around there, running shady business on the side. Generally, those who headed that way weren't up to any good—none of them were good people.

The angrier Nan Liujing got, the more his jaw clenched visibly, his fingers gripping the mouse trembling slightly.

Shen Gali, you really are something.

Looks like the divorce plan needs to go into motion tonight.

I'll catch him in the act. Let's see how the Shen family explains this.

Nan Liujing wheeled himself to the door of Uncle Li's room, hearing thunderous snores from inside that shook the floor.

The next moment, he went downstairs, opened the door, and left the villa.

Arriving at the underground parking garage, Nan Liujing sat in his Lexus LS for a moment. Suddenly—

He stood up straight, his legs steady, lifted the wheelchair and stowed it in the trunk, then strode to the driver's door, slipped in, and expertly started the engine, stepping on the gas.

There was an uphill slope from the garage to the street. His long legs fluidly moved between brake and accelerator, his fingers handling the gearshift with a skill that couldn't be learned overnight.

In his hurry to leave, he'd even forgotten his sunglasses and mask.

At eleven o'clock at night, the black Lexus sped through the empty streets, streetlights tracing sleek lines across its body, flickering on and off.

He had heard that the nightclub had a new batch of "hosts," each one handsome and charming, sweet-talkers who knew how to please. The wealthy loved to go there for entertainment, and there were also deals in illegal drugs.

The rearview mirror reflected Nan Liujing's narrow, sharp eyes. His knuckles were white as they gripped the steering wheel.

When turning, due to the high speed, the tires screeched as he executed a perfect drift, kicking up a cloud of dust as if they were about to catch fire on the asphalt.

The cityscape receded, high-rises turning into continuous mountain ranges, and the car neared the red dot on the GPS.

Nan Liujing's lips were tightly pressed, his sharp brows deeply furrowed, his face cold and menacing.

He had already prepared himself to push open the door and witness some shameless, debauched scene. In his mind, he imagined a hand repeatedly signing his name on that divorce agreement.

Torture him, make his life a living hell—this is the price for deceiving me.

"Arriving at destination in one hundred meters," the navigation announced.

Nan Liujing looked out the window in surprise—mountains all around, not a single light, not a trace of any nightclub.

"Destination reached. Thank you for using Lowde Navigation."

"Click!" The navigation system returned to the initial screen.

Nan Liujing hesitated, slowly pressed the brake, and turned off the engine.

He didn't rush to get out but looked around out the car window.

The pitch-black night enveloped the low mountains, a howling wind brushed past his ears like a ghost's mournful cry.

No one around, only weeds taller than a man swaying in the night breeze.

Nan Liujing steadied himself, slowly got out, took the wheelchair from the trunk, and sat down.

He turned on his phone's flashlight, held it up high, and carefully scanned the hazy dark.

Suddenly, in front of a large rock, a patch of white eerily stood out against the darkness.

"Thump!" His heart skipped a beat for no reason.

Nan Liujing immediately rolled the wheelchair over.

Then he saw the white figure leaning against the rock.

Shen Gali was holding a red plastic bag, legs together and tilted to one side, head resting against the rock, eyes closed, steady breathing mingling with the wind.

"Ha." Nan Liujing let out a cold, disbelieving laugh.

He had imagined all kinds of shameful scenes, only to find the guy had somehow ended up in the middle of nowhere and fallen asleep by the roadside.

His Adam's apple rose and fell. Nan Liujing's voice was ice-cold: "Shen Gali, get up."

Shen Gali heard the voice and slowly opened his eyes—

The moonlight poured down, revealing the blurry outline of the man before him.

A pair of sharp, eagle-like eyes, cold and piercing, stared at him above a high, straight nose. His dark lips contrasted with his snow-white skin.

Shen Gali looked confused.

"Who are you?"

"What?" Nan Liujing snapped. "Did you sleep yourself into a stupor?"

"Who are you? I've never seen you before." Shen Gali turned his rusty brain over and over, going through his entire history, and he could be sure that in his twenty-two years of life, he had never seen such a handsome man.

Although it was a pity, he was in a wheelchair.

Wheelchair?

Shen Gali frowned, and after a long moment, he tentatively asked, "Are you Nan Liujing?"

Just asking, in case he mistook the person. After all, the Nan Liujing described in the original text was ugly and old, so ugly that even dogs would shake their heads at him—completely mismatched with the man before him.

Nan Liujing was rendered speechless by this question.

He had suspected before that Shen Gali, who always kept his head down, might never have seen his true face, but getting a definite answer still left him with a trace of disbelief.

How could someone who had lived under the same roof for months never have seen the face of the person he shared a home with?

But now wasn't the time to dwell on that.

"You went grocery shopping and ended up here? Why didn't you answer your phone?"

Still reeling from confusion, Shen Gali casually replied, "It was on silent, I didn't hear it."

"Even if it's on silent, you should at least glance at your phone from time to time." Nan Liujing's voice suddenly rose an octave, laced with intense anger. "Are you an idiot?"

"Yes, I'm an idiot. You knew that already." Shen Gali found the question strange.

He was a waste, an idiot—this wasn't news to Nan Liujing. Why all the fuss?

Nan Liujing opened his mouth, but as the arteries in his neck pulsed violently, he closed it again.

This person had a knack for leaving him no outlet for his temper.

"Oh, this." Shen Gali suddenly remembered something, rummaged in the plastic bag, and pulled out a bunch of romaine lettuce still clinging to soil.

Nan Liujing stared coldly at the lettuce, baffled.

"You wanted freshly picked greens from the garden. The market didn't have them, so I came to the suburbs. I couldn't find a greenhouse, but I found this by the roadside."

"Thump."

His heart skipped a beat again.

Nan Liujing looked down at him, his eyes wide open, dark lashes trembling lightly.

He simply couldn't believe that this person had traveled hundreds of kilometers into the desolate mountains just for the sake of "the freshest greens."

The indignation in his heart turned into an incredulous laugh, and he kept sneering, a bitter sting rising in his nose.

"Shen Gali, is your IQ okay?" he asked softly.

"Can romaine lettuce not count as greens?" Shen Gali didn't understand.

Couldn't he just stop making a fuss?

Unbearable. It was always like talking to a brick wall.

Nan Liujing snatched the romaine lettuce away, the darkness hiding the red veins in his eyes.

The next second, he raised it high, the rolled-up sleeve revealing the bulging veins on his sinewy forearm, throbbing visibly. If he slammed the lettuce down in that state, it would probably be a one-way ticket to the afterlife.

But he held it up for a long time without making the next move.

Nan Liujing clenched the lettuce tightly, his knuckles white, and after a long pause, slowly lowered his hand:

"For this thing, you came all alone into the deep mountains and forests, and you didn't think to check your phone often. What if you ran into a venomous snake, a wolf, or a murderer out here?"

Nan Liujing's chest heaved violently, his expression like a demon crawling out of hell, enough to send chills down anyone's spine.

That so-called "freshest" was just a figure of speech—he wouldn't have complained if it wasn't fresh. Who would be so straightforward?

Shen Gali still didn't understand. After a long moment, he asked back, "So did I do something wrong?"

So tiring. He could never figure out Nan Liujing's thoughts, nor did he want to, and he had no idea why the man was so furious.

He clearly hated the original Shen Gali so much, wished him dead, so why was he so enraged over not being able to find him?

Hearing this, Nan Liujing paused slightly.

Did something wrong? Maybe not. Shen Gali was just following his orders, though his peculiar way of thinking always twisted the original intention.

Nan Liujing raised a hand to his forehead and slowly closed his eyes. He had never felt so exhausted, as if all his strength had been drained away.

"You're not wrong. I'm the one who's wrong." Nan Liujing waved for Shen Gali to come closer.

Frowning, Shen Gali slowly stood up and took a step forward.

The next second, a large hand suddenly wrapped around his waist, and he was pulled forward by an irresistible force.

Through the thin shirt, he could clearly feel the warmth of Nan Liujing's breath lingering on his abdomen, but the cheek pressed against his stomach was as cold as ice from the night wind.

Shen Gali didn't dare move. Why was he suddenly hugging him? That was kind of creepy.

Nan Liujing had originally wanted to say, "Let's get divorced," and stop torturing each other—he was really tired. But those words were like a knife stuck in his throat, cutting his vocal cords and preventing him from speaking. So in the end, it became a hasty:

"Let's go home."

He couldn't figure out why he had hugged him in a surge of emotion, but the only thing he was sure of was that it didn't feel good. The moment he touched him, every muscle in his body tensed up, stiff as if rusted.

Shen Gali didn't mind the physical contact—his broken body had been touched by countless doctors and nurses—so being hugged didn't strike him as strange at the moment.

After a long pause, he finally realized belatedly: "How did you get here?"

Nan Liujing slowly released him, wearily pressing his forehead and said in a deep voice, "The driver brought me."

"Where's the driver?"

"He went to buy water."

"Go... where to buy water?"

"I don't know. Forget him, I'll call a car." The last three words were squeezed out through gritted teeth.

An hour later.

Driver Yang rushed over in his car and saw the Lexus parked by the roadside: ???

Who drove it here?

Oh, it might be Mr. Shen. Mr. Shen's pretty impressive to have made it up this tough mountain road.

But these two drove the car to this remote wilderness. Are they up to some kind of kinky romantic game?

I really don't get young people these days.

Once in the car, the driver watched Nan Liujing's expression in the rearview mirror.

A hint of weariness settled between his brows. He gently closed his eyes, still clutching a bunch of Chinese lettuce in his hand, stubbornly.