Chapter 65: Love Triangle?!
“What time is it now, and you’re still thinking about that?!”
Shen Shuyi was speechless for a second, but the feeling was quickly swallowed by overwhelming worry.
Originally, he had planned to drive Zhao Yuheng to the hospital himself.
But once he sat in the driver’s seat of the Bentley, he realized—he had no idea how to drive!
Yes, Shen Shuyi had a license—both domestic and international—but he was so used to always having a driver that even though he technically knew how to drive, he barely touched a steering wheel twice a year.
After fumbling around in the driver’s seat for ages, he finally gave up and called 120.
The wait felt endless.
After the call, Shen Shuyi, in a daze, even placed an order at a nearby pharmacy for stomach medicine.
He didn’t even know which kind of medicine to buy, so he searched Zhao Yuheng’s symptoms on Baidu.
And what he saw nearly made him faint.
Acute gastritis. Gastric perforation. Stomach bleeding… Stomach cancer!
Shen Shuyi almost passed out from fright.
Suddenly, Zhao Yuheng’s hand weakly reached out and grabbed his.
Shen Shuyi quickly held it back. “Are you okay? The ambulance will be here soon! I’ll call and check where they are!”
“No need, baby.” Zhao Yuheng sighed, his voice clearly trying to sound calm.
He looked really pained, but it was also clear he didn’t want Shen Shuyi to worry so much.
“I’m fine,” Zhao Yuheng smiled faintly. “You’ve already called the hospital more than twenty times. They’re going to block our number soon.”
“They wouldn’t dare!” Shen Shuyi snapped, temper flaring. “They’re the ones who are too slow! Why is Beijing’s overpass so jammed? Can’t they just run a red light?”
His eyes were red as he spoke.
He only remembered how in TV dramas, ambulances never seemed to care about red lights.
“Those are real emergencies. We’re not.”
“So what?” Shen Shuyi pouted, stubborn as ever. “Other people are other people. You’re Zhao Yuheng.”
Sure, to others, Zhao Yuheng was just one of seven billion people—a random stranger.
Even though he was a rich, domineering CEO, in such a massive world, those labels didn’t really mean much.
But to Shen Shuyi, Zhao Yuheng was irreplaceable.
If this person disappeared, there would never be another like him.
Zhao Yuheng suddenly murmured, “And what’s so special about Zhao Yuheng? Is he that precious?”
“Not really,” Shen Shuyi muttered, pressing his lips together. “Now stop talking. The more you talk, the worse it’ll hurt…”
“Ow. That hurts.”
“Where does it hurt?” Shen Shuyi tensed immediately.
“Hearing you say I’m not that special—it hurts here.” Zhao Yuheng sighed. “Hurts my heart.”
“…”
Shen Shuyi glared at him. You know what, maybe just die of pain then, you lunatic!
—
Half an hour later, the ambulance finally arrived.
On the way to the hospital, Zhao Yuheng’s condition worsened. Shen Shuyi couldn’t believe this was “just” a stomachache.
He searched online again, and all the results pointed to stomach cancer. He was so terrified that he couldn’t even look at his phone anymore.
After several hours of examinations, the final diagnosis came: acute gastritis.
The doctor sighed in relief as he wrote the report. “Good thing you came in time, or it could’ve developed into a perforation. But you’re so young—how did your stomach get this bad? Drinking?”
“No, doctor, he doesn’t drink,” Shen Shuyi blurted, then froze. That was two years ago. He didn’t actually know if Zhao Yuheng still drank now.
The doctor turned to Zhao Yuheng. “Do you drink?”
“Occasionally,” he replied.
“‘Occasionally’? Young man, has anyone ever told you not to lie to your doctor? With a stomach like this, if it’s not from drinking, I’ll take your last name!”
“Business dinners,” Zhao Yuheng explained, glancing at Shen Shuyi as he spoke. “Sometimes, I can’t avoid it.”
The doctor clicked his tongue. “You young people never listen. You think you’re invincible. You stay up all night drinking for money, but what’s the point? Even if you close a deal—so what? Just last week, someone came in with a gastric perforation from drinking. Dead in half an hour!”
“Business success, money earned—but no life left to spend it!”
The more the doctor spoke, the paler Shen Shuyi became.
Zhao Yuheng frowned slightly. “Doctor, don’t scare him.”
The doctor looked at Shen Shuyi, surprised at how stunning he was.
“Your boyfriend?” he asked. “If you really care about him, stop destroying your body. Otherwise, one day you’ll be gone and leave him a widower.”
—
After paying for the meds, they went to the IV room.
Shen Shuyi said nothing the whole way, only helping Zhao Yuheng find a place to sit—quiet, in the corner, by the window.
He really was a small genius at taking care of people in his own clumsy way.
After they sat down, Zhao Yuheng noticed Shen Shuyi still hadn’t spoken.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
The nurse came and set up the IV drip.
“Did the doctor scare you?” Zhao Yuheng asked.
“Am I someone who scares easily? Stop asking that. No.” His tone was stiff, clearly annoyed.
“Then why do you seem upset?”
Shen Shuyi didn’t answer.
“Because I drink?” Zhao Yuheng guessed.
That did it.
“It’s not about drinking. I just don’t get how you managed to drink yourself into this mess. Two years ago you didn’t have this problem.”
“It’s just business socials. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”
“What business socials?” Shen Shuyi shot him a look. “You’re the Zhao family’s eldest young master. Who can make you drink? It’s clearly you—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Right—Zhao Yuheng’s identity as the Zhao heir was only discovered half a year ago.
So a year and a half ago, when he was just “ordinary Zhao Yuheng”… were those “business dinners” from then?
Shen Shuyi remembered him mentioning starting a company with some friends before leaving Hong Kong.
Was that it?
His tone softened. “Even if it was for work, you shouldn’t drink that much.”
“Okay,” Zhao Yuheng said, smiling faintly. “I won’t anymore.”
“You should also repent for the past.”
“Mm,” Zhao Yuheng said with a chuckle. “Already repenting.”
“You’re not taking this seriously!” Shen Shuyi snapped.
Was he joking around with a child?!
“Really, I am,” Zhao Yuheng said suddenly, grabbing Shen Shuyi’s hand and pressing it to his chest. “I regret it. A lot.”
“Huh?”
This time, he actually sounded sincere.
“Two years ago, I shouldn’t have let you go. I’d rather have overdosed or hanged myself at your door than watch you board that plane.”
“…”
Why can’t you repent about something else?!
Shen Shuyi gave up. He was exasperated, but a little amused too.
“I really can’t with you,” he muttered.
Zhao Yuheng smiled and held his hand tightly.
Shen Shuyi felt his face warm but didn’t pull away.
After a while, he asked quietly, “Feeling any better?”
“I feel like I’m always sick.”
“Because no one takes care of you?”
“Mm.”
“Oh, please. You’re surrounded by servants and assistants. How are you not taken care of?”
“They can’t do it right,” Zhao Yuheng said softly, squeezing his hand.
Shen Shuyi blinked. “Don’t tell me you think I can.”
He nodded, looking straight at him.
“…You should really get your eyes checked too,” Shen Shuyi muttered, speeding up the IV drip.
“And maybe your brain while you’re at it.”
—
Despite his words, Shen Shuyi still took care of him carefully—checking the IV, rubbing his stomach when he winced.
Maybe it was the medicine, but Zhao Yuheng’s pain eased. Still, he looked so pale that Shen Shuyi couldn’t help staring at him, feeling a faint ache in his chest.
Fine. He admitted it. He did feel bad for him.
Maybe Zhao Yuheng really did need someone to look after him.
Who lets themselves get this bad? Even Shen Shuyi, a life idiot, knew you were supposed to eat three meals a day.
He pressed his lips together, determined.
Tonight, he’d stay awake and take good care of this patient!
(Hardcore determination.jpg)
…
“Zzzzzz…”
Half an hour later, Zhao Yuheng felt a weight on his shoulder.
Shen Shuyi had fallen asleep.
He carefully pulled him closer, letting him sleep in his arms.
Shen Shuyi instantly relaxed, though his brows still furrowed slightly.
Zhao Yuheng called Chen Fang, asking him to book a VIP ward.
He didn’t need to be hospitalized—but he wanted Shen Shuyi to have a proper bed.
When Chen Fang arrived, he froze at the sight—Zhao Yuheng holding a beautiful man in his arms.
He’d followed Zhao Yuheng for years and had never seen him care about anyone.
So the iron tree finally bloomed!
Loyal to his old boss Zhao Qing, Chen Fang was genuinely happy.
He couldn’t resist taking a picture and sending it to Zhao Qing—just a little “relationship update.”
Then, realizing what he’d done, he panicked.
Message withdrawn.
Zhao Qing: “?”
Chen Fang: “Sent to the wrong person! My mistake, sir! So sorry!”
Then, face pale, he asked, “Young Master, this person is—?”
His gaze landed on Shen Shuyi’s face.
And froze.
Holy sh*t.
It’s the third young master!
He’d just taken a photo of his boss’s younger brother’s lover?!
Chen Fang: [Message withdrawn]
Chen Fang (panicking internally): I’m dead. I’m actually dead.
He stammered out, “Why… why is the Third Young Master here with you?”
“Dinner. My stomach acted up, he came with me,” Zhao Yuheng replied simply.
“I see… then should I send the Third Young Master back to his hotel?” Chen Fang ventured.
“No need. Just get a comfortable room. I’ll carry him there.”
“Carry—uh, maybe I should—”
“Chen Fang, did you forget whose man you are?” Zhao Yuheng’s voice dropped coldly.
That shut him up instantly.
He turned and ran to prepare a room.
Working for the Zhao family nearly ten years, Chen Fang thought he’d seen it all. The family was complicated—but still functional.
Until Zhao Yuheng came home.
Now there was a fake heir, a real heir, and apparently… the real heir was in love with his brother’s lover?!
A literal family drama come to life!
Did the old master know? Did the second young master know?
Chen Fang sneaked a glance at the sleeping beauty and could only sigh—such a face truly brings disaster.
Who’d have thought the cold, business-driven Zhao Yuheng would fall for this Hong Kong prince?
And the Third Young Master—was he being forced, or did he really have no idea what his “big brother” felt for him?
Then, as if to prove Chen Fang wrong, Shen Shuyi stirred.
Half-asleep, he murmured, “Where… are we going…”
“To rest. Go back to sleep. I’m here.”
“…Oh.”
If Zhao Yuheng was there, then it was fine.
The bright hallway lights hurt his eyes, so Shen Shuyi burrowed instinctively into his chest.
“So sleepy…”
“Mm.”
Chen Fang watched the scene, heart pounding.
Yeah… doesn’t look like he’s being forced at all!
—
By the next morning, the news that Zhao Yuheng was hospitalized spread through the Zhao family like wildfire.
Zhao Ci (the second young master) rushed to the hospital the moment he heard.
He’d just received a 20-million-yuan Koenigsegg from his brother—of course he wanted to keep that brotherly bond alive!
He even stopped downstairs to buy a fruit basket, smiling brightly as he went up to the twelfth floor.
But the moment Chen Fang saw him, his blood ran cold.
Shen Shuyi still hadn’t been sent back to the hotel.
He was still asleep in Zhao Yuheng’s hospital bed!
If Zhao Ci saw this… no one could explain it away!
“Second Young Master, wait!”
“What for? I’m just checking on my brother! Move aside, Chen Fang!”
At 1.87 meters, Zhao Ci was only two centimeters shorter than Zhao Yuheng—he easily brushed past the frail assistant and pushed open the door.
“Bro! You feeling better—”
“Second Young Master!” Chen Fang shouted too late.
Zhao Ci froze.
On the bed was a breathtakingly beautiful scene—a sleeping beauty nestled in his brother’s sheets.
Wait. That was… Shen Shuyi?!
Zhao Ci: (=?=)
Am I dreaming?
The noise made Shen Shuyi stir irritably, turning over.
“Zhao Yuheng…” he mumbled.
Don’t be so loud…
Zhao Ci turned to Chen Fang, trembling. “Did—did he just call my brother’s name? In his sleep?”
Chen Fang’s face went dark. He forced a smile and said firmly, “You must’ve misheard, Second Young Master. How could the Third Young Master call the Eldest Young Master’s name?”
Zhao Ci blinked. “Really?”
“Yes, sir.” Chen Fang nodded furiously. Thank god he’s easy to fool.
He exhaled in relief.
Just then, Zhao Yuheng returned, holding breakfast.
“Baby, are you awake?”
The room fell into stunned silence.
Zhao Yuheng froze, seeing both Zhao Ci and Chen Fang staring at him.
Zhao Ci opened his mouth slowly. “My brother…”
Chen Fang, eyes wide, blurted:
“Yes! He was talking to me!”
—
Author’s note:
Chen Fang – single-handedly carrying this love triangle on his back.
Chen Fang: “Young Master, please… just give me a year-end bonus this year, okay?? [crying emoji x3]”
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