Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Jiang Cheng was freaked out by this terrifying thought. Given Shang Zenian's out-of-control sex drive, Jiang Cheng felt that the whole sexual harassment thing was definitely not just him bluffing to scare him.

If so, it'd be seriously dangerous.

He shot back without thinking: "No way!"

Jiang Cheng spun around. Shang Zenian was sitting with his arms crossed, staring at him coldly.

He gulped, steeled himself, and said, "Shang Zenian, like this, you'll never get over Chen Yin. Burying yourself in a fantasy will only hurt you more. I think you need to... you need to go cold turkey."

"Cold turkey..." Shang Zenian echoed quietly. If Chen Yin had just vanished from his life and Jiang Cheng never showed up, maybe he could've gone cold turkey.

But fate had a twisted sense of humor, dropping Jiang Cheng right in front of him.

He fixed his eyes on Jiang Cheng. "How about you show me how to quit?"

"Well..." Jiang Cheng braced himself and said, "You should look at me when I'm dressed as a guy more often, and you'll see that the one you fell for at first sight is just a hard, stinky dude—not soft, not sweet, not cute, and also..."

Jiang Cheng racked his brain to trash-talk himself: "He doesn't care about hygiene—doesn't wash his stinky socks for two weeks, hates showering, dirty and sloppy."

Shang Zenian: "..."

Jiang Cheng had no clue how good he smelled and how soft he was. One kiss and he melted into a puddle, soft and warm. Every inch of his skin smelled clean and young.

That was the taste Shang Zenian craved and replayed in his mind night after night—impossible to resist, let alone let go.

Just the thought of it sent pleasure and desire through his body.

Shang Zenian took a deep breath, fighting the heat rising inside him, and said flatly, "Go home now."

Jiang Cheng felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. This time he didn't dare say another word. He ducked into the room and changed back into his own clothes. When he came out, Shang Zenian was gone. He didn't dare go looking for him in case he changed his mind. He just bagged up the trash from their meal and bolted.

The next day, Saturday, Jiang Cheng was up early for his tutoring gig.

His student was Zhao Zijie, and he was tutoring him in math.

Zhao Zijie had a huge imbalance in his subjects. His other subjects were pretty average, but with math—full marks 150—he'd be lucky to scrape 60.

Luckily, Zhao Zijie was motivated and had a good attitude. After two sessions, Jiang Cheng had figured out his baseline and why he did so badly.

He was conscientious. Since they were paying him well, he wanted to deliver results. He put in serious time and effort to draw up a personalized plan to at least get Zhao Zijie to a passing grade.

He tutored three hours each on Saturday and Sunday, but sometimes cut it to two if Zhao Zijie had a ton of homework or other plans.

Three hours of tutoring was more draining than a full day of lectures.

After giving Zhao Zijie his assignment, Jiang Cheng exhaled, packed up, and headed back to campus.

Zhao's mom was fixing lunch in the kitchen. The living room was empty. As he crossed the living room to leave, his phone slipped and hit the floor with a loud thunk.

His heart nearly sank as he prayed the screen wasn't cracked. He bent down fast to grab it.

Zhao's mom heard the noise, came out of the kitchen holding a spatula, and stared him down. "What are you doing?" she asked, not friendly at all.

"My phone just dropped," Jiang Cheng said, straightening up. "Lesson's done. I'm heading out."

Zhao's mom gave a flat "Hmm" and watched him leave before going back to the kitchen.

Jiang Cheng shut the door behind him and sighed. Like they say, "birds of a feather flock together."

Both Zhao's dad and mom gave him a suffocating vibe.

But for 1500 yuan for one morning's work, he could put up with it.

Jiang Cheng pulled out his phone. Screen was fine, but the case was cracked. He'd need a new one.

He opened a shopping app and started scrolling for phone cases as he walked out of the complex.

Right as he got close to the subway entrance, his phone buzzed. It was Zhao's mom calling.

Jiang Cheng had no idea why she'd call him out of nowhere. He ran through the morning's lesson in his head, making sure he hadn't messed up, then answered.

"Ma'am, what's the matter?"

Zhao's mom's tone was harsh: "Come back."

"Something urgent. Get back here. Right now. Immediately."

"..."

Jiang Cheng was nearly at the subway and didn't want to turn back. Even though it had cooled off, noon was still roasting.

"Can't you tell me over the phone? Is it about Zhao Zijie's schoolwork?"

"No. You have five minutes to come back, or there'll be consequences!" She hung up.

Jiang Cheng: "..."

He had no choice but to head back and see what the deal was.

When he entered the complex and was about to reach Zhao's building, he heard someone call his name. He turned and saw Lu Xiyuan, Shang Zenian's buddy.

Lu Xiyuan walked over. "Thought I was seeing things. It is you. Got family here?"

"No," Jiang Cheng said, his toes curling every time he saw the guy. "I'm doing tutoring here."

"At this hour," Lu Xiyuan checked his watch. "You should be done. I drove. Need a ride back to school?"

Jiang Cheng quickly turned him down. "No thanks, I've got some stuff to handle."

"No problem, I'm not in a rush. I can wait. Go do your thing."

"..."

Afraid that if he didn't get back in five minutes Zhao's mom would freak out, Jiang Cheng just said, "Seriously, I'm good, thanks," waved, and turned away.

But Lu Xiyuan was so nosy he badly wanted to know what was up with Jiang Cheng and Shang Zenian. He had no clue if his straight buddy had turned gay or how far along he was. He didn't dare ask Shang Zenian, who'd been in a foul mood lately, so he figured he'd squeeze it out of Jiang Cheng.

Plus, he was really in no hurry. Seeing Jiang Cheng go into Building 1, he followed and waited in the lobby on the first floor.

Jiang Cheng rushed upstairs. The door to Zhao's place was wide open. Zhao's mom stood with her arms crossed. When she saw him, she sneered. "So you didn't bolt. There's hope for you yet. Hand it over."

"?" Jiang Cheng was baffled. "Hand what over?"

"Don't play dumb! My son's iPad was in the living room, and you stole it. I knew you were up to something when you bent down pretending to grab your phone."

Jiang Cheng denied it at once. "I didn't take it." "If you didn't, did it grow legs and walk off? He always puts it back in the TV cabinet after using it. Who else could've taken it? I knew people from backwater places like yours had sticky fingers. Good thing you showed your true colors early, or my precious son would've been corrupted by you."

Jiang Cheng did not want to argue with her about whether people from small towns were dishonest; prejudice was just prejudice, not something a few words can change.

His voice was calm: "Ma'am, how about asking your son if he put it somewhere else? I honestly didn't take it; you can also search my backpack."

In fact, the best approach at this point was to call the police and avoid falling into the trap of trying to prove his innocence, but Jiang Cheng really didn't want to get entangled with someone like Zhao's mother; he just wanted to resolve things and leave quickly.

Zhao Zijie stood in the living room and heard his words, saying, "I used it this morning and put it in the TV cabinet; I can't be mistaken."

Jiang Cheng had already taken off his backpack and handed it to Zhao's mother. Seeing her look at it with disgust and refuse to take it, he unzipped it right in front of her. Inside was only his textbooks, notes, and teaching materials—no tablet.

"See? The iPad is big; I have nothing on me except this backpack to hold it."

Zhao's mother squinted at him after he finished, sneering, "That doesn't prove anything. You were gone for a long time; you must have hidden the loot. Even if you don't admit it, I've already called the police. That iPad cost nearly ten thousand yuan; you can expect to go to jail."

If she hadn't called the police, Jiang Cheng would have had to. His conscience was clear, so he zipped his backpack and said calmly, "Then let's wait for the police."

Lu Xiyuan waited a long time, finished a game, and still saw no sign of Jiang Cheng coming down.

Just as he was hesitating to send a WeChat message to ask, he saw two police officers led by a security guard approaching the building. Lu Xiyuan overheard part of their conversation—they were responding to a theft in someone's home.

Lu Xiyuan didn't like to meddle and wasn't interested in unrelated matters, but he vaguely heard the word "tutor," which reminded him of Jiang Cheng saying he was doing tutoring.

On a whim, he stood up. Seeing the officers and guard already in the elevator, the door about to close, he quickly said, "Hold on."

The door opened again. Lu Xiyuan stepped inside and said to the officer who pressed the button, "Thanks."

The officer smiled kindly and asked, "Which floor?"

Lu Xiyuan glanced at the elevator buttons and said, "Coincidentally, the same floor as you."

The elevator soon reached the 21st floor. As Lu Xiyuan stepped out, he saw Jiang Cheng standing at the door. He walked over and asked, "Jiang Cheng, what's going on?"

Jiang Cheng hadn't expected him to still be there and said quietly, "They lost their iPad and think I stole it."

"That's impossible," Lu Xiyuan said without hesitation, turning to look at Zhao's mother. "Maybe you put it somewhere else. My friend isn't that petty—he wouldn't steal a small iPad."

Back when Chen Yin and Shang Zenian broke up, he returned all the gifts, whether expensive or cheap.

If Jiang Cheng were greedy, he could have secretly kept a few items worth tens of thousands.

Wouldn't that be way better than stealing a cheap iPad?

Zhao's mother quickly realized from Lu Xiyuan's appearance that he must be a wealthy young master, with high-end brands all over him. The sneakers he wore—she had seen them before when buying limited-edition sneakers for her son; they cost over a hundred thousand yuan.

So her tone became noticeably more polite: "We've searched the whole house and can't find it. When he left, I saw him crouch down near the TV cabinet—right there."

She walked into the living room, showing the officers and Lu Xiyuan exactly where Jiang Cheng had crouched, then opened the TV cabinet drawer.

"The tablet was right here. I was cooking in the kitchen when I heard a noise, and when I came out, he said he was just picking up his phone. Now it's obvious he was closing the drawer. What a clumsy lie—if he didn't steal it, did a ghost?"

"I really was picking up my phone," Jiang Cheng said calmly to the officers. "I didn't take it. There's no surveillance in their home, but there must be cameras in the elevator, the complex, and the street. You can check the footage—I didn't hide anything anywhere."

The officers, experienced in handling such disputes, didn't immediately start questioning or accusing. Instead, they calmly asked Zhao's mother to search the house thoroughly and call family members to see if anyone else had taken it, to rule out other possibilities first.

But Zhao's mother was convinced Jiang Cheng was the thief and reluctantly cooperated, muttering curses and complaints, saying he was from a small county, poor, a disease carrier with dirty hands—all with the arrogance and prejudice of an urban snob.

Lu Xiyuan frowned hard at her words and warned, "Watch your mouth. I can see your manners are far worse than anyone from a small county. Stop acting like you're better because you're from the city. I recorded every word you said; be careful I don't sue you for slander."

Zhao's mother finally quieted down.

They searched Zhao's house thoroughly but came up empty. Zhao's mother also called her husband and mother-in-law, both of whom said they hadn't taken it.

The situation hit a dead end. The officers questioned Jiang Cheng again, and seeing that he was indeed open and aboveboard, they contacted the property management to review the surveillance footage of Jiang Cheng after he left Zhao's home to see if he had stopped to hide anything.

Then, the street surveillance outside the complex would require checking with the owners of surrounding shops, which needed the officers' involvement.

They were about to head downstairs when Zhao's mother didn't want to cooperate: "Why make this so complicated? Can't you just arrest him and interrogate him?"

"No, we can't do that," an officer said, pressing the elevator button and explaining patiently, "We go by evidence. There's no proof he took it."

"He was the only one who had the chance—isn't that evidence enough? And he's definitely a repeat thief. Surveillance won't prove anything—he must have hidden it in a blind spot. I say such people should be sentenced to prison; releasing them is a menace to society!"

As Zhao's mother said this, the elevator doors opened, and several people came out. Jiang Cheng looked up and saw Shang Zenian, and froze for a moment.

He figured Lu Xiyuan might have told him about it, but he hadn't expected him to come.

A man in a suit came out with him, followed by an elderly woman and a child. The child, about five years old, saw Zhao's mother and ran over, calling, "Mom."

Zhao's mother patted her head distractedly, ignoring her, her gaze fixed on Shang Zenian and the man in a suit behind him: "Who are you?"

Shang Zenian didn't bother with her. He walked to Jiang Cheng and asked Lu Xiyuan beside him, "Did you record all of it?"

Lu Xiyuan made an "OK" gesture: "Recorded the whole thing."

Shang Zenian asked the man in a suit, "Lawyer Liu, those words just now—do they constitute public defamation and infringement of reputation?"

Lawyer Liu said, "Yes. This woman repeatedly and openly claimed that Mr. Jiang is a 'habitual thief' and a 'thief' without any substantive evidence, engaging in personal insults and slander. This constitutes public insult and infringement of reputation. The audio and video recordings can be used as direct evidence."

Zhao's mother's expression changed: "What do you mean?"

Lu Xiyuan sneered, "It means we're going to sue you for defamation and seek compensation for emotional distress, understand?"

These people seemed influential, and Zhao's mother hadn't expected Jiang Cheng, a poor kid from a small county, to know such important figures.

But she wasn't intimidated and sneered, "He stole my son's iPad, and now you're threatening me? Officers, is there any justice?"

The officer was objective: "Ma'am, we go by evidence."

Just then, Zhao's mother's little daughter heard her words, tilted her head, took off her backpack, opened it, and pulled out an iPad: "Mom, are you looking for this?"

Zhao's mother:???

She never expected the tablet to come out of her daughter's bag. Her face changed rapidly—red, white, green—with embarrassment and anger, as if a thousand slaps were hitting her.

Furious and humiliated, she slapped her daughter across the face: "Who told you to take your brother's iPad to play with?"

The little girl burst into tears.

Zhao's mother then turned on the elderly woman who had brought the girl back: "You didn't even think to check her backpack when you brought her home? I called you just now, and you didn't look! How do you take care of the kids?"

The elderly woman stammered, "I didn't know..."

It was all a misunderstanding. The officers found it ridiculous and were about to break the awkward silence when Shang Zenian coldly said to Zhao's mother, who was still scolding the elderly woman and child, "Apologize."

Zhao's mother's face twisted in reluctance, but facing Shang Zenian and his group, she gritted her teeth and said to Jiang Cheng, "I'm sorry. I didn't know my daughter took it. I wrongfully accused you."

Jiang Cheng said nothing.

"Have you been paid for today's tutoring yet?" Shang Zenian asked Jiang Cheng.

“Not yet, they’re all given together on Sundays.”

Shang Zenian didn't beat around the bush, saying to Zhao's mother, “Transfer the money.”

Even though Jiang Cheng hadn’t taken it, Zhao's mother was truly resentful. If it weren’t for Jiang Cheng’s humble background, she wouldn’t have suspected him and made such a fool of herself.

But Shang Zenian’s intimidating presence was too strong; she could only pull out her phone and transfer the money.

“Lawyer Liu, I’ll leave this to you,” Shang Zenian said to Jiang Cheng. “Let’s go.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t want to stay a second longer and immediately followed Shang Zenian as he turned and left.

Lu Xiyuan also joined them as they left, asking Shang Zenian, “You’re just letting them off like that?”

Shang Zenian gave a faint smile. “So you think I'm that kind?”

“No, I wasn’t finished. This isn’t like you—you’re the type to haggle over every trifle; if someone damages a single hair of yours, you strip them bare of all theirs.”

Shang Zenian shot him a cold glare. “If you kept your mouth shut, no one would think you're mute.”

Only then did Lu Xiyuan remember that there was still a score to settle between him and Jiang Cheng. Glancing at the clearly intimidated Jiang Cheng, he rubbed his nose and laughed. “I’m just joking. Brother Shang is the epitome of virtue—gentle, respectful, frugal, and deferential—the synonym for a great guy!”

Jiang Cheng thought, “...”

The more he said, the more terrifying it got.

Shang Zenian had driven over, so Jiang Cheng naturally rode back with him. Once in the car, Jiang Cheng finally spoke up. “Thanks for bailing me out. Sorry for making you come all the way here.”

Shang Zenian didn't respond to that at all, nor did he taunt him as he had in their previous meetings. Instead, he opened the glove box, pulled out a few sheets of paper, flipped to the right page, took out a pen, and handed it to Jiang Cheng.

“Sign.”

Jiang Cheng asked, confused, “What is this?”

Shang Zenian replied, “An indentured servitude contract.”

Jiang Cheng was speechless.

Shang Zenian was quite domineering. “Sign!”

After a moment of hesitation, Jiang Cheng signed his name on the designated line. He knew Shang Zenian wouldn’t screw him over—if he really wanted to, refusing wouldn’t help anyway; this guy had plenty of strength and means.

Shang Zenian was satisfied with his obedience and had him sign two more spots. Then he pulled out an ink pad, reached out, grabbed Jiang Cheng’s hand, pressed his thumb into the ink pad, and without allowing any resistance, pressed his thumb down on each signature.

Then he let go, separated the papers into two copies, handing one to Jiang Cheng, and put the other set along with the pen and ink pad away.

Jiang Cheng glanced at the top of the document and saw it was an employment contract. Party A, Shang Zenian, was hiring him as a part-time domestic worker with a monthly salary of 50,000 yuan.

It was a very standard contract, so there were none of the unreasonable demands Shang Zenian had mentioned yesterday about making him dress up as Chen Yin.

Jiang Cheng skimmed through it quickly; none of the terms were problematic.

But as a law student, he muttered under his breath, “This forced sale constitutes a contract under duress—it goes against the genuine intentions of the parties and is illegal.”

Having successfully forced the deal, Shang Zenian was in a good mood as he buckled his seatbelt and started the engine. Quite brazenly, he said, “Then go ahead and sue me. Better yet, have me thrown in jail and locked up—then our past scores can be settled.”

Jiang Cheng was speechless.