Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The last notes still lingered in the room.

“You played very well,” Li Huating said. “You can take whatever you like from the money in the drawer.”

Hearing that, Shang Qinghui immediately got practical again. He decided he really ought to take the money. Clearing his throat, he shamelessly asked, “Can I put it in a bag?”

“You’re short on money,” Li Huating observed.

Shang Qinghui smiled ingratiatingly. “Mr. Li, you’re very good at reading people.”

Li Huating smiled again, then said, “Stay here, and I can give you more.”

Shang Qinghui looked at his smile, surprised. So Li Huating actually smiled quite a lot.

What he didn’t know was that if there’d been a housekeeper in the room, they would have told him, “The young master hasn’t smiled like that in ages.”

The words “stay here” kept circling in Shang Qinghui’s mind. What exactly did they mean? Did he mean that kind of stay? The lowbrow kind?

Since Shang Qinghui couldn’t bring himself to ask, he could only stare at him in a daze.

Li Huating didn’t want to spell out what he wanted in words. Instead, he moved closer and put an arm around Shang Qinghui’s shoulders. The touch was gentle. It was less a caress than a gesture of reassurance, like steadying a fragile vase so it wouldn’t topple.

A strange flutter stirred in Shang Qinghui’s chest. At last, he was sure: the domineering CEO had a lowbrow side.

And at the same time, he realized he did, too. With the man in front of him… well, it seemed he might be willing even without getting paid.

Seeing him standing there stiff as a board, Li Huating couldn’t tell whether he was willing, so he let go and stepped back half a pace. “If you don’t understand, or you don’t want to, you can take the money in the drawer and leave.”

Shang Qinghui froze, then looked up.

Li Huating’s expression was mild. “You can use a bag.”

Shang Qinghui put the money in a bag.

But he stayed, too.

Adults can have it all!

Chapter 2: An All-Night Battle

An all-night battle.

Holding his aching lower back, Shang Qinghui came to a conclusion: Li Huating really did have something to him.

In a suit, he was so dignified and aloof. The moment he took off his tie, he turned into a Zombie Tyrannosaurus.

Shang Qinghui even wondered if the man had been saving up for a long time. He only got a taste once in a while, and his appetite was absurd. Shang Qinghui was just a little shrimp, barely enough to fill a gap between his teeth, yet the man had swallowed him whole without so much as a peep.

When he got up, rubbing his sore waist, he thought, “Who says I got something for nothing?”

It was already well past noon by the time Shang Qinghui got up.

He walked out of the bedroom and found the place empty. Li Huating had already gone out.

The house was huge, but there was no housekeeper or servant in sight.

It seemed a cleaning lady came by at set intervals; everything was spotless, like a model home.

It looked as if Mr. Li didn’t much like having strangers in his home.

Shang Qinghui thought, I should know when to leave. I’ll take the money and go, so we don’t both feel awkward if he comes back and finds me here.

Going from this mansion halfway up the mountain back to his tiny apartment that cost eighteen hundred a month didn’t feel like a letdown at all. After all, he’d been bankrupt before.

The first thing he did when he got home, of course, was count the money.

He was halfway through when the phone rang. To save money, his family had long since moved back to the countryside. He was the only one still clinging to the city.

As usual, his family tried to talk him out of it. “Huíhuí, playing piano isn’t something ordinary families can afford to dream about.”

“Why can’t I dream about it? Dreams are free,” Shang Qinghui said. “I dream of being emperor, too! You don’t see the police coming to arrest me for plotting to restore the monarchy!”

His family was stumped for a moment, then tried a different angle. “If you’re only dreaming, why insist on staying in the big city? Isn’t it because you’re hoping for a chance?”

“Don’t jinx it.” Shang Qinghui cut them off, a hint of smugness in his voice. “I just made a little money. Looks like ten or twenty thousand.”

“Huh?” The other end was clearly shocked. Then the surprise gave way to suspicion. “Was it earned honestly?”

Shang Qinghui hesitated for a moment. Had he earned it honestly…?

He cleared his throat and replied, “Don’t worry. I didn’t get it by scamming or swindling anyone.”

“That’s good. Save it carefully, and don’t spend it recklessly…” His family’s tone softened. They went on and on, no longer carrying the old swagger of “whatever the kid wants, just buy it.” They’d become just like any other family, counting every penny.

That evening, Shang Qinghui went back to the restaurant where he worked part-time playing piano.

The restaurant manager, who had pretended not to hear him the night before, came over at once, bowing and scraping. “Young Master Shang, you’re here!”

Shang Qinghui: …Am I a young master again? A young master who makes a hundred yuan an hour?

“What’s up, Manager Liu?” Shang Qinghui asked.

Manager Liu beamed and gestured for him to follow. “Please come this way.”

Seeing his smile, Shang Qinghui got a little excited, too. Was he going to give him a raise?

Manager Liu led him all the way to a private room at the end of the hallway, pushed open the door, then stepped aside.

Li Huating was sitting inside. He wore a classic white cotton shirt with the cuffs rolled up twice, revealing a section of forearm with clean, defined lines. A glass of water sat in front of him, barely touched.

The moment Shang Qinghui saw him, last night’s scenes came rushing back uninvited. His heart began to pound, as if someone had struck every key on the piano at once.

Manager Liu bent over obsequiously. “I’ll leave the two of you to talk. Just press the service bell if you need anything.”

With that, he left.

Only Li Huating and Shang Qinghui remained in the room.

Shang Qinghui realized he had no idea how to face Li Huating. So this was how awkward it felt to see someone again after spending the night with a person you barely knew.

His toes curled against the floor, playing out the “Symphony of Fate.”

Li Huating, however, seemed perfectly at ease. “Sit down.”

Shang Qinghui plopped down in the chair farthest from the CEO.

Li Huating glanced at him. “Sit next to me.”

So Shang Qinghui moved from chair to chair around the round table until he reached the one beside him.

Li Huating smiled. “I came home today and didn’t see you. So you were here.”

The words sounded matter-of-fact, but there was a veiled reproach in them. Shang Qinghui had worked enough jobs to recognize the tone: He’s blaming me for leaving without saying anything.

He blinked and explained, “It’s like this, Mr. Li. I thought you didn’t like having outsiders in your home, so I left first.”

“I told you to stay,” Li Huating said.

Shang Qinghui was a little surprised. He murmured, “I thought… you meant stay for one night.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Li Huating explained gently. “I want you to stay with me all the time.”

Shang Qinghui really couldn’t stand it when bosses were so vague. He decided to get straight to the point. “So you mean you want me to live at your house?”

“That’s more or less it.” Li Huating nodded.

Shang Qinghui was a little surprised. Usually, when rich men kept someone, the gilded cage wasn’t their own home.

Still, Shang Qinghui was the contractor here, so he didn’t feel he could object.

Li Huating said, “If there’s no problem, let’s go home.”

Hearing the word “home,” Shang Qinghui zoned out for a moment, as if they’d suddenly acquired a home together and become close beyond words.

His face felt a little warm, but he stumbled over his words. “W-we can’t go back yet… I work here…”

“You still want to play piano here?” Li Huating asked, surprised.

“Um… not really,” Shang Qinghui said. “I just haven’t been paid yet. It’s a whole fifteen hundred yuan.”

Li Huating: …

Shang Qinghui went to quit with Manager Liu.

After hearing him out, Manager Liu said he understood completely and paid him in full without deducting a penny, even slipping him a few extra bills.

Holding the extra money, Shang Qinghui said with false politeness, “You really shouldn’t be giving me all this.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Manager Liu replied with equally false politeness. “It’s a tip from a customer, specifically for you. I can’t just pocket it.”

In the end, he even personally walked Shang Qinghui to the door. “Take care, Young Master Shang. Come by and visit whenever you have time.”

And just like that, Shang Qinghui moved into Li Huating’s home.

Li Huating was actually very busy. It was normal for him to go several days without coming home when work piled up. The enormous mansion was as quiet as an empty box. A cleaning lady came every other day, but the rest of the time the whole house belonged to Shang Qinghui alone.

When he was alone, Shang Qinghui practiced piano so intensely that he forgot to eat and sleep.

The Steinway stood by the window, its black surface gleaming like a mirror. The instant his fingers touched the keys, the deep, velvety resistance beneath them nearly brought tears to his eyes.

He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d played an instrument of this caliber. The piano he’d once had at home had been sealed up and taken away long ago.

That night, he was playing with such abandon that he was completely immersed in the music.

So he didn’t hear the door open.

Only when he finished the piece did he sense someone behind him.

He was so startled that he nearly fell off the piano bench. Turning around, he saw Li Huating.

He still had his coat on, and his tie was half undone. He had clearly just come in; the weariness of the journey still lingered around his brows. But his eyes were alert and fixed intently on Shang Qinghui.

“Mr. Li…” Shang Qinghui stood up.

“Just call me by my name,” Li Huating reminded him again.

He’d said this once before. His exact words had been—especially in bed, don’t call me Mr. Li. It sounds like you’re giving a work report; I can practically see a PowerPoint projected over the headboard.

Shang Qinghui pressed his lips together. “Huating… you’re back.”

“You’ve certainly gotten good at it,” Li Huating said. “Do you practice often?”

Shang Qinghui explained, “When I have nothing else to do, I play a little.”

“Do you still want to play?” Li Huating asked again.