Chapter 6: A Chance Encounter
Shen Shuyi had already been feeling uneasy, and now that the air had suddenly gone silent, his anxiety spiked even higher.
Could it be that this Zhao guy didn’t agree?
Shen Shuyi grew irritated at the thought. What’s there for him not to agree to?
It’s not like he wasn’t getting money out of this—just in installments, and even more than before!
Shen Shuyi had never been good at hiding what he felt. When Zhao Yuheng didn’t respond, he spoke first:
“Do you understand installments? What I mean is, I’ll give you a deposit first—so you can feel at ease and not worry I’ll stiff you later.”
He continued, “I’ll make sure you get the rest within three months.”
Three months—by then, even if Shen Lu kept pushing for marriage, he should let it go.
After all, Shen Lu was his only brother. Would he really let him starve by refusing to give him a cent?
Besides, in Shen Shuyi’s mind, the little abacus was clicking rapidly—Shen Lu had only just taken over the Shen family. With all those old geezers on the board to deal with, how would he possibly have the time to watch him every second?
The more he thought about it, the brighter the future seemed. He relaxed considerably, then looked at Zhao Yuheng, waiting for a response.
“I’m talking to you. Why are you so quiet, like some dumb gourd?”
What an unlikable personality…
He kept that last thought to himself.
At the same time, he couldn’t help feeling a bit grateful—thank goodness fifty thousand was enough to make this man go away.
Otherwise, if he really had to marry this cheap man, life after marriage would be mind-numbingly boring from day one.
Zhao Yuheng finally spoke, calm and composed: “How exactly are you planning to give me the deposit?”
Shen Shuyi replied, “I still have some money in my WeChat wallet. I’ll transfer it to you.”
Zhao Yuheng went silent again, as if trying to judge whether this was true.
Shen Shuyi’s eyes widened. “You don’t seriously think this is an excuse for me to add you on WeChat, do you?”
Heavens.
It had always been others begging to add him. How shameless would this man have to be, thinking he wanted his contact?
Was Zhao’s surname supposed to make him some kind of prized catch or what?!
Zhao Yuheng gave a short, derisive laugh. “Third Young Master, you’re overthinking it. We’re not even from the same world. What use would I have for your WeChat?”
Use? It’d be enough for you to brag about for eighty years, you dog of a man…
Shen Shuyi quickly nodded. “You’re right.”
But after thinking for a second, he changed his mind. “Actually, no—you’d better add me. Otherwise, you’ll think I’m trying to stiff you on your five hundred thousand.”
Make up your mind already.
Zhao Yuheng silently grumbled to himself.
Reluctantly, Shen Shuyi opened his WeChat QR code and let him scan it.
He sneaked a glance at Zhao Yuheng’s profile picture—it was completely black, and the username was just the letter Z. Opening his Moments, he wasn’t surprised to see a blank page.
Not just “three days visible”—he’d literally never posted a single Moment since creating the account.
Has he detoxed or something? How can anyone stand this kind of restraint?
Shen Shuyi was baffled. He, on the other hand, was the KING of Moments—posting multiple updates a day, and every trip meant a grid of nine photos or gifs.
He was handsome, and his hobbies were things most people could only dream of.
As the top rich young master of a powerful family, every post of his got hundreds of likes.
Zhao Yuheng opened Shen Shuyi’s Moments—full of selfies and glamorous travel shots from around the world. Skydiving, skiing, flying helicopters—routine stuff.
Scrolling further down, he even found a photo from the beach in Hawaii that summer. Shen Shuyi was dressed lightly; Zhao Yuheng’s eyes lingered on that flash of pale, slender waist.
Yeah… definitely slim.
“The first installment’s already sent to you,” Shen Shuyi’s voice cut in, snapping him out of it.
Zhao Yuheng blinked, still a bit dazed, and nodded. “Mm.”
Seeing that, Shen Shuyi exhaled in relief.
Good thing there was still some pocket money left in his WeChat wallet!
Normally, all his spending—food, clothes, shopping—was done with Shen Lu’s supplementary card, so he rarely used WeChat Pay.
That money came from Li Sijia—his boyfriend of one week—who’d gotten drunk one night and randomly transferred it over.
It was just a little over a hundred thousand. Pocket change, really.
Who would’ve thought that drunken impulse would come in handy?
Thinking of Li Sijia, Shen Shuyi suddenly realized he hadn’t heard from his boyfriend for several days since returning home for the funeral.
Not that it mattered—Shen Shuyi wasn’t the type to take the initiative in relationships.
Even if the person was his boyfriend.
He was used to others chasing after him, not the other way around.
Still, wasn’t it strange for someone in the honeymoon phase to be this cold?
Meanwhile, Zhao Yuheng, after receiving the transfer, gave him a complicated look.
Shen Shuyi frowned. “What? Is there a problem?”
Zhao Yuheng stood. “No problem.”
With that money, he could finally pay for his grandfather’s urgent surgery.
He didn’t linger any longer and started heading for the door.
The snow had stopped, and the sky above Shuiwan One was a brilliant blue, as if freshly washed.
Shen Shuyi asked Auntie Li to see him out, along with two bodyguards.
At the gate, Zhao Yuheng hesitated for a long moment before asking—directing the question to Auntie Li, but clearly about Shen Shuyi:
“Does Young Master Shen… have a partner? Or a lover?”
Auntie Li’s face instantly stiffened. Then she said coldly, “Mr. Zhao, that’s none of your concern.”
Her expression all but screamed her unspoken thoughts: Who do you think you are? Don’t get ideas just because you’ve got a decent face! Trying to seduce our young master and climb your way into the family? Dream on! A pheasant can never become a phoenix!
Zhao Yuheng wasn’t sure how, but he somehow read every bit of that subtext from her face.
A quick glance at the two bodyguards confirmed it—they were glaring daggers at him too.
He sighed inwardly.
Then he looked down at his phone, and the corners of his mouth twitched.
There, on WeChat, was the transfer record:
Your friend Shen Shuyi has transferred you 131,420 yuan.
1314 20 — “one lifetime, I love you.”
…
Zhao Yuheng put away his phone, telling himself he was overthinking things. He wasn’t that narcissistic.
But as he reached the guard booth outside the villa, he couldn’t help pulling his phone back out, frowning as he typed into a search bar:
“Shen Shuyi of Yinghua Group — gender preference male or female?”
—
Shen Shuyi, of course, had no idea his random transfer had caused such a huge misunderstanding.
He’d never bothered checking his WeChat balance—all of it came from Li Sijia’s transfers anyway.
Without thinking much, he’d just sent the entire amount to Zhao Yuheng.
Who knew Li Sijia had set the amount to such a cheesy “romantic number”?
Well, his little gesture of affection had basically been wasted on a blind man.
After sending Zhao Yuheng away, Shen Shuyi took the week off to rest at home.
During that time, Shen Lu came by twice. Each time, Shen Shuyi seized the opportunity to cry, complain, and roll around in protest, trying to convince his brother to cancel the arranged marriage with the Zhao family.
But, unsurprisingly, a week later, all his efforts were in vain.
He could only laugh bitterly to himself.
The marriage alliance was inevitable.
The only reprieve was that, since the old master had just passed away, the Shen family wouldn’t hold any wedding within a year.
Still, even if the ceremony was postponed, the marriage registration was “urgent business.”
After being nagged to death by his brother, Shen Shuyi’s ears were practically developing calluses. Only when the board demanded Shen Lu’s attention did his brother finally leave.
The moment Shen Lu’s car pulled away, Shen Shuyi threw off his blanket, gritting his teeth. “Get the marriage certificate? Hah! Just wait—within a month, I’ll get rid of that bargain-basement man myself!”
Zhao Yuheng hadn’t shown up for more than a week, likely pacified by that initial “deposit.”
But that wouldn’t last long. Once the money ran out, Zhao Yuheng would surely come back to Shuiwan One, bringing up old business again.
By then, that dog man might even realize that compared to five hundred thousand, he himself was worth far more!
If Zhao joined forces with Shen Lu, would he even have a say in his own home anymore?!
The more Shen Shuyi thought about it, the more dreadful it seemed. He jumped out of bed and sprang into action.
An hour later, he was sitting across from Lu Zhiwei, the second young master of Tairan Real Estate, in a Michelin restaurant.
His “plan of action” was simple and direct—he reached across the table and said, “Lend me five hundred thousand.”
Lu Zhiwei, delighted to dine with a beauty, nearly choked on his caviar at that. He almost knelt down on the spot.
“Shuyi, you do know your brother has warned us all not to lend you a single cent, right?”
“Yeah.” Shen Shuyi frowned, still annoyed at the thought, and responded curtly.
Lu Zhiwei grimaced. “I thought we were bros. You’re really trying to get me killed here.”
Shen Shuyi scowled. “It’s just five hundred thousand. Skip buying one of your little lover’s handbags, problem solved.”
“That’s not the issue,” Lu said, exasperated. “If I lend you five hundred thousand today, my family will lose fifty million tomorrow when your brother finds out!”
Shen Shuyi: “…”
Surely his brother wasn’t that powerful—he couldn’t just bankrupt people overnight, could he?
He’d only come to test his luck anyway, but from the look on Lu Zhiwei’s face, it was a total dead end.
Apparently, Shen Lu had really gone all out this time.
Lu Zhiwei forked up a piece of shrimp, but Shen Shuyi, irritated by even that, smacked the fork right out of his hand.
Everyone in Hong Kong knew the young master’s temper was legendarily bad.
Lu Zhiwei didn’t even get mad—watching the beauty flare up was its own kind of art.
Every pout, every glare—like a scene from a movie poster.
Lu Zhiwei grinned. “I’m just curious—what’s that fiancé of yours like, anyway, to make you hate him so much?”
Shen Shuyi rolled his eyes. “What else? Poor as dirt, can’t even pull a coin out of his pocket. His entire outfit probably costs less than a thousand yuan, and his taste—ugh. Don’t even get me started on those shoes.” He paused, then added, “And that hideous old-man polo shirt—my dad wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that!”
That can’t be right, Lu Zhiwei thought.
He’d never met the Zhao family of Beijing, but he’d heard of them—an old and powerful clan, just as wealthy and prestigious as the Shens.
“No way,” Lu Zhiwei said skeptically. Still, he figured Shen Shuyi was just being his usual high-maintenance self—no man was ever good enough for him.
“Come on, there must be some redeeming quality. How’s the face? Hot or not?”
Shen Shuyi paused, Zhao Yuheng’s face flashing in his mind.
He wanted to badmouth him, but his sense of aesthetics wouldn’t let him lie.
After a moment, he muttered reluctantly, “…pretty handsome, I guess.”
Lu Zhiwei perked up. “How handsome? Compared to Alex?”
Alex—Li Sijia, his boyfriend.
Shen Shuyi mumbled, “A bit more handsome, maybe.” Actually, way more. And that body—damn.
Then he quickly added, “Just a little.”
He even held up his fingers to show “a little.”
“Damn, Alex is the campus heartthrob—absolute top-tier handsome. And this guy’s better than him?”
Shen Shuyi: “…”
You blind or what?
Li Sijia wasn’t that great—definitely not as handsome as himself, anyway.
He was so used to his own reflection that other good-looking guys barely registered. To him, Li Sijia was… fine.
Now Lu Zhiwei was even more intrigued. “Got a picture? Lemme see.”
“Oh, stop it.”
Shen Shuyi was already sick of hearing Zhao Yuheng’s name. He’d come out for dinner, and yet every conversation still circled back to that man—like a haunting ghost.
Besides, the whole topic was weirdly uncomfortable.
What was this—two high school gays gossiping about the school heartthrob? He was getting goosebumps just thinking about it!
“What’s there to see? He’s got one nose and two eyes, same as everyone else.”
There was another reason he didn’t want to continue.
In front of Zhao Yuheng, he always acted cool and untouchable.
If Zhao Yuheng ever found out he’d been secretly complimenting his looks behind his back—he’d die of embarrassment.
Shen Shuyi quickly waved for the waiter, changing the subject.
“That champagne we had earlier—bring another bottle,” he said, closing the menu.
Then he looked up—
And there he was.
The man they’d been talking about for the past ten minutes.
Zhao Yuheng stood before him, dressed in a waiter’s uniform, holding a menu, voice calm and clipped:
“Certainly, Mr. Shen.”
Shen Shuyi spat a mouthful of water straight onto his face.
