Chapter 7:

A troublesome person had left, yet the one remaining proved even more challenging. Lin Qiao looked at Shen Qingzhou, instinctively taking a step back. She accidentally bumped into the sofa and, losing her balance, fell onto it.

Letting out a startled cry, Lin Qiao braced herself with her arms behind her, preparing to sit up. As she lifted her head, she found Shen Qingzhou had somehow approached her side and was now gazing down at her from above.

His tall, upright figure and expressionless yet strikingly handsome face exuded a cold allure. People often said that women loved bad boys, but it seemed now that dangerous men were even harder to resist.

Lin Qiao assumed he was about to help her up but had simply been too late. With her legs resting on the armrest, she half-lay there and said, “I’m fine, thank you, Mr. Shen.”

Shen Qingzhou narrowed his eyes slightly, his pale, slender fingers gradually reaching toward her as he softly asked, “Why thank me?”

Lin Qiao watched his fingers drawing closer. Just as he was about to touch her face, she opened her mouth to protest and instinctively tried to move backward. But before the words left her lips, she realized his fingers shifted downward, pulling her slipped collar back onto her shoulder, concealing the accidental glimpse of her bare skin that had peeked out from under her white top.

“You can thank me now.”

With that cold remark, Shen Qingzhou cleanly retracted his hand behind his back. From where she couldn’t see, his fingers slowly curled into a fist.

Lin Qiao hesitated for a moment before murmuring, “Okay… thank you…”

“You’re welcome.” Shen Qingzhou replied, then suddenly asked, “Miss Lin, do you think you know me well?”

Confused, Lin Qiao sat up with some effort and replied, “No, why do you ask?”

“Then, Miss Lin, isn’t it a bit irresponsible for you to say something like ‘Do you think I’d ever be interested in him’?”

He asked casually, sitting down on a nearby chair with relaxed elegance, his legs crossed. Dressed impeccably in a black Zhongshan suit, his strikingly classical Eastern features made him look like a figure from a painting.

Lin Qiao immediately stood up, hurriedly explaining, “That’s not what I meant. Master Shen, please don’t misunderstand.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I’m not saying I look down on you…”

“So you’re saying you do like me?”

“I don’t!” Lin Qiao felt herself getting tangled in his words, quickly denying it. “I don’t know how else to explain it. It’s not that I dislike you personally, but you’re not really my type. Still, you’re a good person—you’ll definitely have many girls interested in you.”

Still on a roll with her “you’re a good person” speech, Lin Qiao wanted to add more, but Shen Qingzhou cut her off.

Frowning, Shen Qingzhou said, “Enough. I’m not trying to date you, and I don’t have the patience to listen to your terrible standards for choosing a partner.”

So your standards are bad just because they’re not mine? Lin Qiao felt a little speechless and wanted to argue, but Shen Qingzhou immediately pointed toward the door.

“The matter’s settled. Miss Lin, please go back now. I have other things to attend to.”

Lin Qiao felt as if she had ruined the dinner arrangement that evening.

“Um, there’s one last thing I need to tell you,” she said, lowering her tone since she was asking a favor, and steeled herself to continue, “My father would like to invite you for dinner…”

“I’m busy tonight.”

Shen Qingzhou rejected her before she could finish speaking, then glanced toward the door, clearly signaling her to leave.

After being dismissed twice, Lin Qiao, being a girl, couldn’t bring herself to stay any longer. She turned around and left. Only when she reached the door did she remember she had left her luggage behind, so she sheepishly returned to grab it, leaving completely flustered and red-faced.

After the door shut, Shen Qingzhou bent over and sat back down on the nearby chair. He stared blankly at one spot for a while before exhaling softly.

He hadn’t refused Lin Qiao’s father’s invitation on purpose—tonight, he indeed had other plans. He had already made arrangements with someone else at the Western restaurant in the Regent Hotel.

At exactly seven that evening, Shen Qingzhou arrived outside the restaurant. Upon entering, he spotted a familiar yet disliked figure in the corner.

Dressed in a handmade silver-gray suit and black-and-white Oxford shoes, the man sat upright in his chair, casually spinning his phone in his hand.

He casually glanced toward the entrance and immediately stood up when he saw Shen Qingzhou, his handsome face—possessing the unique beauty of a Eurasian—lighting up with a warm smile as he waved him over. “Bro, over here.”

Shen Qingzhou wordlessly walked over. His tall frame in a black patterned suit seemed as calm and deep as a still sea.

He sat down and casually said to the man across from him, “Mr. Fang, nice to see you.”

The man smiled and asked, “Why so formal? We’re brothers.”

“Legally, yes. Not by blood,” Shen Qingzhou replied, a rare smile flickering across his lips. He looked directly into the other man’s eyes and said coolly, “Fang Zheng, I’m here tonight to remind you that the last time I helped you was for my mother’s sake. You’d better know your place. If any more mysterious people appear in front of me, I can’t guarantee your marriage will last another three months.”

Fang Zheng feigned surprise. “What? Do you want me to divorce quickly? That’s fine, if that’s what you want.”

Shen Qingzhou’s eyes narrowed sarcastically, his tone heavy with meaning. “You misunderstood, Marriage Addict. I’m just reminding you that even if you act fast, swallowing up the Wang family isn’t something you can do in a few words. Be careful—your father-in-law might catch you with your tail out before you even achieve your goal.”

Fang Zheng’s smile didn’t fade. “You know me, Brother Shen. I never do anything I’m not sure about. You’ve seen enough examples. You should have confidence in me this time too. I don’t like that nickname—please don’t call me that again.”

Shen Qingzhou didn’t even look up, saying casually, “Marriage Addict.”

Fang Zheng’s smile gradually disappeared, and he stared at him expressionlessly. “Since you’ve made yourself so clear, Mr. Shen, I won’t beat around the bush anymore. The Wang family is already an empty shell—I can take them over anytime. As long as you’re not here in Beijing to interfere with me, we can talk about anything.”

Shen Qingzhou glanced at him but said nothing.

Fang Zheng understood his silence and spoke frankly, “I won’t interfere with the Lin family or target them. Master Shen, you can go ahead with your business.”

Shen Qingzhou lowered his eyelids slightly, picking up his glass of ice water and idly playing with it. After a long pause, he said, “That’s not like you. You’ve already swallowed the Wang family—what’s one more Lin family? You’ve always been good at sowing discord.”

Fang Zheng elegantly sipped his red wine with a smile. “A gentleman knows what he should and shouldn’t do.”

Without even glancing at him, Shen Qingzhou stood up and left directly, already fully understanding Fang Zheng’s intentions.

Fang Zheng was someone he had met while studying in America, not long after his mother had remarried Fang Zheng’s father.

Shen Qingzhou’s father had died young, and Fang Zheng’s mother had also passed away early. Two people who had lost their partners found each other, which was understandable. Neither child had opposed the marriage, but Shen Qingzhou knew that this so-called stepbrother was no good.

Fang Zheng had striking features and a charming aura, clearly not a peaceful person. While in school, he had gotten involved with a very wealthy Chinese-American businesswoman. Not long after graduation, they married, only to divorce three months later. All of the woman’s assets were transferred to Fang Zheng’s name. Unable to bear the emotional and financial betrayal, the businesswoman committed suicide by jumping from a building.

Fang Zheng had made a fortune through similar schemes in the U.S., secretly taking over and dismantling many companies. Wang Jiaqi, Lin Qiao’s best friend, had become his first target after returning to China.

The Wang family likely didn’t know about Fang Zheng’s marital history abroad, or else they wouldn’t have married off their daughter without investigation, leading to their company nearly being completely taken over without them even realizing it.

Shen Qingzhou had never cared much about Fang Zheng’s shady dealings. The only time he had gotten involved was when his mother asked him to do a feng shui reading for Fang Zheng’s “girlfriend’s” family. That time, he had given no real advice, merely going through the motions. Fang Zheng, however, used that to convince his mother to accept Wang Jiaqi as his next stepson’s wife, and then watched passively as Fang Zheng divorced her.

Speaking of Wang Jiaqi, it was hard not to think of Lin Qiao, his current problematic client.

Meanwhile, Lin Qiao, who had been labeled as “problematic,” didn’t think much of Shen Qingzhou either. Since their last meeting, they had had no contact. It had always been Lin’s father who dealt with Shen directly. Their next meeting was initiated by Shen himself.

Looking at the phone number labeled “Someone Who Would Never Call Me,” Lin Qiao muted the TV and hesitantly answered the call.

“Miss Lin, do you have time?” came Shen Qingzhou’s flat, emotionless voice.

Lin Qiao instinctively wanted to refuse, but recalling her father’s anger after she had declined Shen’s dinner invitation last time, she hesitated and stayed silent.

“I’m waiting for you at Tianshou Mountain in Changping District.” He hung up immediately after, giving her no chance to refuse.

Lin Qiao stared at her phone for a moment, then resignedly got up to change clothes.

It took a while to drive from Wangfujing to Changping, and by the time she arrived, it was already past two in the afternoon. As she got out of the car, she spotted the tall figure in the distance. Irritated, she walked toward him. Hearing her footsteps, he glanced back but said nothing, then walked straight through the grand entrance. The gate faced the main peak of Tianshou Mountain, where the famous Ming Dynasty’s Thirteen Tombs were located.

Following behind him, Lin Qiao asked, “Master Shen, did you call me here for something?”

Shen Qingzhou continued walking without speaking. Lin Qiao glanced at his back and said, “Why did you bring me to Tianshou Mountain? To see the Ming Tombs? I don’t like being near graveyards. Let’s go somewhere else.”

At her words, Shen Qingzhou stopped and turned to look at her. For once, his tone was slightly softer. “This is one of the rare feng shui treasures in Beijing. Since you’ve paid me to help, I suggest you stop watching TV and eating snacks in hotels and spend more time here absorbing some spiritual energy.”

“…” Something felt off, but she couldn’t quite place it.

Seeing her fall silent, Shen Qingzhou changed the subject. “When’s your birthday?”

“…Why ask that?” Lin Qiao was taken aback.

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to tell me.” His expression, which had briefly softened, began to harden again.

Not wanting things to get too tense between them—especially since they had to work together—Lin Qiao reluctantly answered, “August 7th.”

Shen Qingzhou said offhandedly, “Ah, a summer birth.” He gave her a quick glance and teased, “No wonder your luck isn’t great—you always dress so flashy and colorful.”

“…” Lin Qiao twitched her lips and asked, “So what should I wear then?”

Shen Qingzhou replied, “White, silver, black, gray, blue—dress like in a black-and-white silent film.”

“…” Lin Qiao was at a loss for words.

As if he hadn’t noticed her expression, he continued, “That’s the way to bring good fortune.”

“…” I don’t want good fortune—I just want to beat you up!!!