Chapter 4.1

Gong Yue’s WeChat ID was the same as his phone number.

With the tablet still in hand, Ke Xin quickly opened it and read out Gong Yue’s WeChat number to Wen Tang.

“1, 3, 8, 5, 0, 6, 6…”

Wen Tang entered the number into her phone digit by digit and clicked search. The page quickly displayed a contact card with a black avatar and the name “Y” in uppercase letters. The Moments were hidden and visible only to friends.

The “Y” was likely the initial of Gong Yue’s surname, so it was probably him. The fact that his WeChat avatar was dark and mysterious fit his “cool guy” persona perfectly.

Wen Tang sent a friend request and, when filling out the reason for the request, hesitated. In the past, her suitors usually knew who she was beforehand and it was easy to start conversations. However, Gong Yue seemed different, and if she hid her identity and got close to him, it might be a unique thrill.

Feeling a mischievous impulse, Wen Tang’s mood lifted slightly from the earlier gloom. She deleted her name and typed instead: “Senior Brother~”

Yes, “Senior Brother!”

Starting off with a strategic pretense of being a junior would likely ensure acceptance. Generally, artists wouldn’t add strangers, but such “senior-junior” relationships within the entertainment industry were unlikely to be rejected.

Wen Tang wasn’t Gong Yue’s real junior, and such a close identity would be easily uncovered, but she had already devised a full plan for it.

She just needed Gong Yue to accept her friend request.

Having done this, Wen Tang turned to her own Moments. She frequently posted on WeChat, mostly to show off her pets. Anyone who has ever had pets knows it’s hard to keep quiet about them. Her Moments were set to be visible for a month. Unfortunately, her boyfriends were always jealous, and keeping such matters secret was a way to avoid trouble.

In the past month, she had posted five times—four posts were about her cats, and one was a New Year’s greeting.

She loved her cats dearly. Her WeChat profile picture was even a photo of them.

She had two cats: one entirely black, named Prince, and one entirely white, named Princess. Both were strays she had found on the street. When she found them, they were weak and helpless, not like the plump and spoiled cats they had become now. Whenever Wen Tang came home, they would meow affectionately, showing their loving nature.

When Wen Tang lived with Liu Meifen before, Liu Meifen was allergic to cat hair and forbade keeping cats. So, Wen Tang had to keep them outside. It was only at the end of last year, when Wen Tang moved into the Linjiang Mansion, that she finally brought her cats inside.

She scrolled through her Moments and found no issues—just pet photos that showcased her love for them without revealing her true identity.

Now, all she had to do was wait.

Excitedly holding her phone, she waited for the friend request to be accepted.

But a minute, two minutes, three minutes, five minutes passed with no response.

The wait was becoming too long.

Did the boys Ke Xin added for her in the past ever take this long to accept a friend request?

It was late at night, so the cool guy might be asleep.

Wen Tang firmly believed she wouldn’t hit a snag at this first hurdle. Yet as time ticked by and her phone remained silent, her anticipation began to wane.

She had only met Gong Yue once and had no particular feelings about him. The only thing that stood out was his bold demeanor and his cool, aloof attitude.

Tonight’s impulsiveness was a reaction to Liu Meifen and Wen Haifeng’s provocations.

Realizing this, the last bit of her malicious anticipation faded away.

Suddenly, she felt quite disinterested.

Her excitement had come quickly and left even faster.

She tossed her phone back to Ke Xin and sank back into her seat, no longer concerned about whether the friend request was accepted.

*

At 7 a.m., Zhou Jingyu was awoken by persistent knocking at the door.

He had just flown back from France and had been sleeping since arriving at the Zhou family’s old residence, from 8 p.m. until dawn.

The knocking was unhurried but relentless, as if it wouldn’t stop until Zhou Jingyu responded.

“What’s the matter?”

Zhou Jingyu’s voice was calm and clear, always pleasant to hear, like the sound of a clear spring.

The knocking came from a servant of the Zhou family. Hearing Zhou Jingyu’s voice, the servant replied, “Young Master, Madam asked you to come down for breakfast. Both Mr. Zhou and Madam are waiting for you in the dining room.”

“Okay.”

Zhou Jingyu sat up from the bed. He was accustomed to sleeping naked. His skin was fair and remained so despite any sun exposure, a trait he inherited from his mother. Due to his regular exercise, his chest was well-defined, and his abs were faintly visible.

By 7:10 a.m., Zhou Jingyu appeared in the old residence’s dining room.

As the servant had said, Zhou Jiayi and Yue Lin were already waiting in the breakfast area.

“Father, Mother.”

Zhou Jingyu greeted them.

In front of him, Zhou Jiayi was stern and authoritative. He scowled and said, “How come you’re only up now? Do you know what time it is? Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for you to have breakfast?”

Yue Lin, standing beside him, hurriedly pulled on his sleeve and softly said, “Jingyu has just returned from a business trip abroad. He’s been working hard for many days. What’s the harm in letting him sleep a little longer?”

Zhou Jiayi snorted and replied, “I don’t care. He doesn’t know how to appreciate things!”

Zhou Jiayi looked at his son—tall and handsome, having inherited his mother’s appearance with refined features. Yet, his personality was a mystery.

He always seemed indifferent, as if nothing could shake his emotions, leaving everyone puzzled.

Little did they know, his aloof demeanor only aggravated Zhou Jiayi further.

Zhou Donghai, who was known as a business legend, had always looked down on him. Now, even on his deathbed, he refused to hand over the company to him. His son, just like Zhou Donghai, didn’t regard him with any respect. Truly, like grandfather, like grandson!

The more Zhou Jiayi thought about it, the angrier he became. He stood up abruptly, intending to scold Zhou Jingyu, but Yue Lin quickly pulled him back into his seat.

“What’s with you? Why are you so worked up so early in the morning? Sit down quickly, and let’s have breakfast before it gets cold!”

She urged Zhou Jingyu to sit down with them.

Throughout the exchange, Zhou Jingyu did not argue with Zhou Jiayi.

To him, Zhou Jiayi was merely a biological father. Apart from the blood relation, he had learned not to care much since he was a minor.

Yue Lin invited Zhou Jingyu to sit down, but he showed no intention of joining them for breakfast.

Yue Lin asked Zhou Jingyu to sit down, but Zhou Jingyu did not move. He had no intention of eating with them.

He said calmly to the two people in front of him: “No, I’m going to the nursing home soon, and I will eat alone with grandpa later.”

Yue Lin’s expression froze, losing her smile.

She had important matters to discuss with Zhou Jingyu at the breakfast table. Since he rarely returned home, if he left like this, who knew when he would be back next time.

“Uh…” she started to persuade him, but Zhou Jingyu had already turned to leave. After a couple of steps, he remembered something else and stopped, saying, “I’ve found a suitable place to live and won’t trouble you any longer. I’ll come back in a few days to pack up and move out.”

His words were unusually distant and detached, more of a notification than a request for approval.

Despite Zhou Jiayi’s fury at the table, Zhou Jingyu remained indifferent, walking away without any sign of emotion.

Zhou Jiayi’s younger son, Zhou Jingxi, knowing his brother had returned from abroad, had set three alarms to wake up early. He excitedly got out of bed but, upon reaching the dining room, only found Zhou Jiayi fuming and Yue Lin trying to calm him down.

Not seeing Zhou Jingyu, Zhou Jingxi asked, “Where’s my brother?”

This question only fueled Zhou Jiayi’s anger further. With his elder son not heeding him, he took out his frustration on the younger one. He snapped, “Your brother, your brother! Look at him—he’s been back from abroad, and how many times has he acknowledged you? He doesn’t even regard you as his brother, and you still keep thinking about him? Are you stupid?”

Seeing Zhou Jingxi’s clothes in disarray, with several large holes in his pants, Zhou Jiayi couldn’t help but scold him, “Look at you, all sloppy and disheveled, always eating, drinking, and playing around. If you were more competent, I wouldn’t have to endure his nonsense!”

Zhou Jingxi, confused by the outburst, turned to Yue Lin, who usually dotes on him, and asked quietly, “…Mom, did Dad take the wrong medicine this morning?”