Chapter 39: Jealous!
Shen Shuyi hadn’t even had time to reply to Yan Chi before Zhao Yuheng startled him.
“Why are you talking so loud? I can hear you just fine.”
“Was it loud?”
Shen Shuyi thought for a moment—actually, not really. Maybe it just felt louder because he was standing so close. Or maybe… it was because Zhao Yuheng had said something that sounded awfully shameless in broad daylight.
And Zhao Yuheng had said it so matter-of-factly. Wait—did he just say something about “starting as friends”…?
“I’ll talk softer next time,” Zhao Yuheng said.
Only then did his gaze finally fall on Yan Chi. He scanned the man up and down, then reached out his hand. “I’m Shuyi’s fiancé. Zhao Yuheng.”
Shen Shuyi: “?”
He tugged at Zhao Yuheng’s sleeve. “Why are you saying that again?”
“The first time was for you to hear. This time’s for him.” Zhao Yuheng’s face didn’t even twitch.
“What’s the point of saying it so many times?”
“Afraid you’ll forget.”
“?”
Shen Shuyi muttered, “This is your first time meeting Yan Chi, right? Why are you so hostile toward him?”
“Am I?” Zhao Yuheng replied calmly. “It’s not his first time meeting you, though. Didn’t he call you ‘Yi Yi’?”
“……”
Shen Shuyi was speechless. So that’s what he was hung up on?
Zhao Yuheng kept his hand outstretched, but Yan Chi didn’t take it. His hand hung there awkwardly in midair, and though Zhao Yuheng said nothing, the atmosphere instantly grew tense.
Shen Shuyi felt a headache coming on.
Zhao Yuheng looked at him as if to say: Aren’t you going to introduce me?
Shen Shuyi: “….”
He finally said, “He’s my fiancé.” That was for Yan Chi. Then to Zhao Yuheng: “And this is my…”
—what? His non-blood-related second brother? His childhood playmate?
For a moment, Shen Shuyi honestly didn’t know how to introduce Yan Chi.
After a few seconds, he settled on: “An old friend.”
That was the most suitable title he could think of.
Truthfully, if he had the choice, Shen Shuyi would rather never see Yan Chi again for the rest of his life.
Not because he hated him, but because he held grudges.
Years ago, it was exposed that Yan Chi liked him—only for Shen Shuyi to later find out it was all a cruel scheme cooked up by Yan Chi and a friend, meant to target the Shen family’s fortune.
That was seven years ago. Yan Chi had been sent away when Shuyi was fifteen, and the Shen family had handled the matter very seriously.
Shen Shuyi had grown up since then, but that didn’t mean he’d forgiven him. It just meant that when he saw Yan Chi again, he wouldn’t punch him in the face like before.
The word “friend” clearly caught Yan Chi off guard. He forced a smile, shook Zhao Yuheng’s hand briefly, and said softly, “Yi Yi, it’s been so many years, but you’re still the same as when you were little. Still adorable.”
Zhao Yuheng glanced at Shen Shuyi—his eyes silently saying: So he’s seen you as a kid. I haven’t.
Shen Shuyi: … What was this man competing over now?
They’d only met a few months ago because of an arranged marriage! They weren’t even close!
And honestly, if Zhao Yuheng had seen him as a kid, that would be terrifying.
Zhao Yuheng: stares.
Shen Shuyi: ….
He shot him a WeChat message: [I’ll show you photos later, okay!!!]
Zhao Yuheng glanced at his phone and calmly looked away. Then replied with three words: [Screenshot saved.]
The two of them didn’t exchange another word, but the air around them was thick with silent communication—an invisible wall that kept outsiders away.
Yan Chi clenched his fist, then released it. He suddenly realized how much of Shen Shuyi’s life he had missed in those seven years—years that could never be recovered.
The young man before him had grown into a stunning, poised adult, far removed from the clingy little boy who used to trail behind him shouting “Second Brother.”
But that was fine. He’d just returned to the country. There was still time to make things right.
“Yi Yi, I’ve got something else to do, so I won’t keep you.”
Yan Chi placed a business card on the table beside Shen Shuyi and gently slid it toward him. “My number and WeChat are both on there. Contact me anytime.”
Then he left—never once acknowledging Zhao Yuheng’s title of fiancé, as if he intended to win Shen Shuyi back no matter what.
—
After Yan Chi left, Shen Shuyi didn’t even glance at the business card.
He had one rule in life: once he deleted someone’s WeChat, he would never, ever add them back.
Running into Yan Chi today had shocked him. He quickly texted his brother Shen Lu to report it, but when he looked up again—Zhao Yuheng was gone.
“?”
A quick scan of the room—he found Zhao Yuheng at the front desk paying the bill.
“What’s the rush?” Shen Shuyi muttered, grabbing his bag to follow. But Zhao Yuheng didn’t wait—he paid and walked out alone.
“??”
Something was definitely off.
He chased him out of the restaurant, down the stairs, all the way to the lobby—still couldn’t catch up.
Only then did Shuyi realize that Zhao Yuheng usually slowed his pace for him. With Yuheng’s longer stride, the distance between them grew fast once he stopped doing that.
By the time Shuyi caught up, he was panting. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
Outside, it had started raining. Shuyi hadn’t checked the weather and hadn’t brought an umbrella—but he wasn’t worried. Fancy restaurants always had some for guests.
At least the rain had one upside: it stopped Zhao Yuheng from walking away.
“I heard you,” Zhao Yuheng said, looking down. “I was pretending to be deaf.”
“???”
Shen Shuyi was dumbfounded. He was always the one giving people attitude—no one had ever dared do it to him! And this man even admitted it so frankly! What was he supposed to do with that?
Before he could explode, Zhao Yuheng suddenly said, “Bag.”
He extended his arm—strong, steady, like a human coat rack. Shen Shuyi’s bag wasn’t even heavy; it was just for fashion. Still, he handed it over lazily. Why not?
The drizzle turned to downpour. The driver wasn’t here yet, so the two stood stranded in the rain curtain.
Shen Shuyi lightly kicked Zhao Yuheng’s calf—just a little tap, teasing more than anything. His earlier irritation had faded. “You still haven’t answered me. Why pretend not to hear me?”
Zhao Yuheng’s eyes followed the raindrops for a few seconds, then he said bluntly: “Who was that man?”
“Who?” Shen Shuyi blinked, then said breezily, “I’ve already forgotten.”
Perfect. If there were a “who would you save first—your brother or your husband” kind of test, Shen Shuyi would ace it instantly.
He was quietly smug about his answer. No way he’d mention another man in front of this one.
“The man in the restaurant,” Zhao Yuheng continued evenly. “About 1.85 meters, short hair, navy-blue blazer—terrible taste. Light-blue French shirt underneath, straight-cut pants, size 44 shoes, gray tie—awful color choice. Rolex on the right wrist. Not as handsome as me, and kind of sleazy.”
“…”
So detailed! There was no way to deny it now.
Damn. This guy was a walking surveillance camera.
“Why do you remember him so clearly? Even his height? Do you remember mine that well?” Shuyi tried to deflect.
“I can tell you right now.”
“Stop!” Shen Shuyi cut him off before he could say the number.
He’d spent years convincing himself that rounding up made him 1.8 meters tall.
Zhao Yuheng’s eyes swept slowly down his slim waist. “Should I include your waist size too?”
“???” What the hell are you remembering that for?!
“So,” Zhao Yuheng pressed, “who is he?”
No escaping now. Shuyi rubbed his nose. “It’s complicated. If you really want to define it… he’s sort of my second brother.”
“You’ve probably seen the news, right? My grandfather adopted a boy when I was little—that’s him. He’s a month older than me, grew up with me and my brother, so people used to call him Second Young Master. I became the third.”
Zhao Yuheng froze. Second brother? No blood relation? Grew up together? That’s… a childhood sweetheart! Childhood sweetheart means mutual feelings, mutual feelings means a past relationship—so… ex-boyfriend?!
Another ex-boyfriend!
“Was he your ex?” Zhao Yuheng asked grimly.
“???” What kind of wild logic was that?!
“What nonsense are you talking about? Of course not!” Shen Shuyi said, surprisingly patient this time. “Zhao Yuheng, why are you so jealous? You can’t just assume every man I meet used to date me!”
Zhao Yuheng muttered, “Because there are too many men around you.”
He started counting under his breath. “Your ex Li Sijia, this childhood sweetheart…”
Even if he counted Yan Chi, that was only two! Shuyi wanted to yell.
But then Zhao calmly added, “Xu xx, Lu xx, Lin xx…”
“Wait, who are those people? Lin xx—that’s a celebrity!?”
“Mm,” Zhao Yuheng said calmly. “Hong Kong media once claimed he was your ambiguous partner.”
“…”
That was years ago! And since when were those tabloids credible? They could write 8,000 words of nonsense from one photo!
What really shocked him was that Zhao Yuheng knew about all that. Had he… gone and looked up old gossip about him?
As the realization sank in, something clicked. Thinking back to Zhao Yuheng’s weird behavior all evening, Shen Shuyi narrowed his eyes and said, “Zhao Yuheng… are you jealous?”
“…”
“No?”
“Mm.”
“Really?”
“Mm.”
“Fine then.” Shen Shuyi drawled, “But if you insist on calling Yan Chi my childhood sweetheart, I guess technically he was.”
Zhao Yuheng’s hand tightened around the bag strap, veins standing out—but his face stayed calm.
Shen Shuyi smirked. Still pretending, huh?
“But it’s been years since we met. I really was surprised to see him again. He hasn’t changed much—still handsome, still speaks nicely, still so polite—”
“Shen Shuyi.” Zhao Yuheng finally turned, frowning deeply.
The jealousy was written all over his face, and Shen Shuyi couldn’t help grinning, mischief dancing in his eyes.
He’d gotten exactly the reaction he wanted.
“Zhao Yuheng.” This time, Zhao Yuheng’s tone was weary.
“Mission accomplished,” Shen Shuyi said cheerfully. “So, do you admit you’re jealous now?”
Zhao Yuheng’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “…Yes. Can’t I be?”
“Petty. What are you jealous of? I don’t even remember him anymore.”
And that was true—if Yan Chi hadn’t suddenly appeared today, Shuyi would’ve forgotten him completely.
“He called you ‘Yi Yi’,” Zhao Yuheng said quietly, still brooding. “I never have.”
A cold breeze swept through the doorway. Shen Shuyi, dressed lightly for style, was freezing. He instinctively stepped behind Zhao Yuheng for warmth—not quite touching him, but close enough to make Zhao Yuheng’s heart skip.
“You really want to fight over that? Then start calling me that. I never said you couldn’t.”
Honestly, Shen Shuyi thought, Zhao Yuheng was the one being unreasonable. He always called him “Shen Shuyi” in that icy formal tone, like they were enemies instead of fiancés.
The rare moments he said “Shuyi” warmly could be counted on one hand.
“That nickname’s already taken,” Zhao Yuheng said after a pause. “I don’t want to use it.”
Shen Shuyi tilted his head up, fox-like eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re impossible. So picky! What do you want to call me then?”
Zhao Yuheng thought seriously for two seconds. Then, inexplicably, said: “Baby?”
Shen Shuyi: “?”
—
[If you say it in private, I’ll tolerate it.]
[But if you call me that in public, I’ll punch you.]
A few seconds later, Zhao Yuheng replied: [Why?]
[Because I’m a grown man in his twenties—if someone hears you calling me ‘baby’, they’ll think I’ve lost my mind :)]
[…Okay, baby.]
Then he added: [Does chatting on WeChat count as private, baby?]
Shen Shuyi: …
You already said it—why are you asking now?!
He furiously typed back a sticker of a stern little cat nodding seriously.
[Also, stop ending every sentence with ‘baby’! It’s not punctuation!]
[Okay, baby]
[…]
[…]
After sending that, Shen Shuyi reread their chat a few times—and his face started to heat up.
He had coworkers who jokingly called him “baby” all the time, but somehow, coming from Zhao Yuheng… it felt different—too hot to handle.
He cracked open the car window, letting in the cold, damp air. The fine rain fell like soft needles, weaving perfect lines into the concrete.
The chill cleared his mind a little.
He remembered Zhao Yuheng’s earlier refusal to take the 500,000 yuan payment—and the mess his “divorce plan” was now in. If Zhao really didn’t want to break off the engagement…
Would they actually get married?
He stared out at the rain, dazed.
A month ago, he could’ve said firmly, No. Marriage was just another word for suicide.
But now… He wasn’t so sure anymore.
—
In the days that followed, Shen Shuyi was distracted—ate little, slept less. At noon, he sighed endlessly at his desk. His coworkers A, B, C, and D all noticed something was wrong.
During Friday’s afternoon tea break, he stayed in the office, staring blankly at his screen. His friends brought him cake and milk tea.
“Shuyi, are you upset?” asked coworker A. “Still mad about Jessica giving you trouble over that leave request?”
“No.” Shuyi barely had the energy to reply. Seeing the desserts reminded him of the little cake Zhao Yuheng had made for him—and his heartbeat went all over the place again.
Coworker C chirped, “Baby, the snacks are amazing today! Come on, have a bite—it’s all company-funded!”
He still didn’t move. Coworker D asked, “What’s got you so down? Tell us!”
He couldn’t tell anyone. If he told Shen Lu, his brother would cheer and immediately push him into that “marital grave.” If he told Lu Zhiwei, the guy would just make it worse with bad advice.
So he just shook his head.
The others exchanged looks. Coworker A finally suggested, “Shuyi, if you really can’t talk to anyone… how about visiting a temple to draw a fortune stick?”
D brightened. “Yeah! I went to Baotai Temple before I found this job—those fortune readings are so accurate!”
“Really?” Shuyi asked skeptically.
“Really!”
And just like that, he saw a new solution. Right—if he couldn’t figure things out himself, why not ask the gods?
As the saying goes: When in doubt, trust quantum mechanics.
He immediately booked a trip to Baotai Temple.
Sure, it wouldn’t solve his problems—but maybe praying would make him feel better.
Seeing him perk up, his coworkers returned to their desks. Ten seconds later, C suddenly froze. “Wait—Baotai Temple… isn’t that the fertility temple?”
Back in his office, Shen Shuyi had just confirmed his temple ticket when a message from Zhao Yuheng popped up:
[You there? You said you’d show me your childhood photos.]
[Baby.]
Author’s Note:
New nickname unlocked!
Jealous and sulky (but still carrying his wife’s bag).
Cold-faced bag-holder man, hm!
He just has to call him “baby.”
Our Fish-hum Brother always has to compete—whatever others have, he wants; whatever they don’t, he wants even more. Because he’s the main husband, with the side-lover’s magnanimity, the courtesan’s charm, and the concubine’s arrogance.
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