Zhang the fool treats Zhou Qing like an ancestor every day, serving him. As for the ancestor, life is pretty good. Although sometimes that lapdog face really makes him want to kick it a few times, he just endures it, and it passes. Of course, if he can’t bear it, it’s simple—just one word: kick.

Anyway, Lord Zhou does whatever makes him happy.

If Zhang Shirui isn’t happy, he can leave without even a pat on the back.

But Zhang Shirui had scored a great deal, so there was no way he’d leave. And so, he kept hovering around Zhou Qing, day after day, until a whole month had passed.

Time really flew by, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Zhang Shirui had to get back to work, thinking he needed to make good money to support Lord Zhou. He couldn’t just live off pride without making a living anymore—things were different now. He had someone to care for, so he had to step it up and act like a man!

Zhang the Lapdog is doing so well for himself, and after all, who is Zhou Qing? He’s that freak from the Zheng family who could take on a hundred people at once. So, for Zhang’s father, his son messing around and getting involved with a figure like that made him happier than ever—he couldn’t stop grinning.

This was the first time his son had ever beaten that little brat from the Zheng family.

Apparently, the old man of the Zheng family was so furious that he was practically stomping around at home every day.

Of course, Father Zhang can be so open-minded because Zhang Shirui had already messed around and fathered two grandsons by the time he was in his teens. So, he doesn’t worry that his son’s current interest in men will leave him without descendants.

He used to be frustrated with his son’s lack of success, but now Father Zhang thinks that fools have their own luck. Just look—his son has managed to win over the hardest person to get close to!

Heh heh.

Father Zhang smiled proudly, so much so that Mrs. Zhang, standing nearby, couldn’t help but sigh with a headache: like father, like son.

Zhou Qing returned to work.

Everyone at the company who saw him looked as if they’d just seen a ghost.

Because Zhou Qing had been well taken care of lately, he’d even put on a bit of healthy weight, and his skin was now smooth and radiant. With that confident look in his eyes, good heavens, he looked like he’d shed ten years.

Everyone who saw him mentally shouted in disbelief. “Damn, being pampered really does make a difference! He was already a striking presence before—now that he’s back like this, it’s a wonder if our boss doesn’t lose his mind!”

And just as those sharp-eyed, observant employees expected, Zheng Gongdong’s face went green the moment he saw Zhou Qing.

His eyes turned green too.

It was so green, like his wife had put a thousand green hats on his head.

But despite that expression, Zhou Qing remained unfazed as he reasoned with Zheng Gongdong: “I’ve already handed over all the work. Now, coming to work is just for show. Either you keep my position and give me an empty salary, or if that’s not possible, I won’t come anymore.”

After working for so many years, it was still a job he liked. If it weren’t for how tightly Zheng Gongdong’s personality was wound, Zhou Qing would have kept on. But now, there was no way they could continue together. And clearly, that highly sensitive job was no longer a fit for him; he had no choice but to let it go.

In the future, whatever job he finds, he would never go back to this line of work. Although Zhou Qing wasn’t exactly a good person, he still had some sense of loyalty and wouldn’t make trouble for Zheng Gongdong over something like this.

Fortunately, it seemed like he had quite a bit of money saved in the bank, enough for him to live luxuriously for about ten years. If he died early, he’d still have enough left for a coffin.

So, there was nothing to be afraid of.

He had lived just fine even when he had nothing, and now, he was still the same person. Time had taught him plenty of survival instincts, so there was really nothing left to fear.

Hearing Zhou Qing speak so indifferently, Zheng Gongdong felt a sharp pain in his stomach and liver. He glared at Zhou Qing for a long time, not saying a word. He just watched as Zhou Qing raised an eyebrow and walked out without a word.

Zhou Qing really wasn’t coming back. 

As he watched Zhou Qing’s retreating figure, it was the first time Zheng Gongdong truly felt that some things just couldn’t be undone.

——–

Zhang Shirui came home worn out like a dog, but as soon as he saw Zhou Qing, his eyes lit up—his energy was back. It was like all the tiredness from spending the day with his sharp-minded team, taking over one small company after another, just disappeared.

When he saw Zhou Qing sitting with his bare feet on the chair next to the dining table, drinking water with his head tilted back, he let out a cry and rushed over. He half-knelt on the floor, pressing his lips against Zhou Qing’s foot. After a gentle nudge, he sighed dramatically, “It’s already late autumn, the wooden floor is cold, and walking around without anything on your feet will give you a cold…”

He rolled up and, with a tricky stretch, got up again, ran over to the balcony to grab the socks he had washed and hung up yesterday, picked a pair, and hurried back to put them on Zhou Qing.

Zhou Qing smiled, letting Zhang Shirui fuss around him.

He was genuinely happy about it. He was nearing his forties, at least seven or eight years older than Zhang Shirui, but this young guy treated him like a treasure. He didn’t dislike it—in fact, he’d be a fool not to enjoy it.