Chapter 7

The live broadcast ended late at night. After signing off, Shu Shiyun relaxed his body and reached up to take off the collar necklace around his neck. That piece had been irritating his skin all along, feeling uncomfortable after wearing it for so long. Just as he removed it, Fang Jiahua came over to collect it. Her gaze fell on his neck, and she suddenly exclaimed, “Boss, are you having an allergic reaction?”

Shu Shiyun was momentarily stunned. He picked up the portable mirror on the table and saw a red ring around his neck. Upon closer inspection, it did feel somewhat itchy.

“A bit itchy,” he admitted.

Fang Jiahua quickly said, “It shouldn’t be too serious. I’ll put some ointment on the table. After your shower, apply a bit.”

“Okay.” Shu Shiyun didn’t take it to heart; his skin was relatively thin, and sometimes even a slight scratch would leave marks that faded after a while.

After changing out of his clothes, he went to the master bedroom to freshen up.

When he came out, Fang Jiahua had already tidied everything up and reported the main store’s sales from tonight. She paused while packing up, as if hesitating about something.

Noticing her hesitation, Shu Shiyun asked, “Is there something else?”

Fang Jiahua hesitated for a moment, then said, “Boss, maybe you should drop by the YS live streaming room sometime. You haven’t been there to check things out for a while.”

That was originally Shu Shiyun’s plan, but he caught something off in her expression. So he said straightforwardly, “Just tell me.”

“Well... the people you planted there before aren’t quite right.” Fang Jiahua was straightforward; once she started, she didn’t hesitate. “The first streamer was always unhappy with the scheduling and often showed impatience during live sessions. There were several problems. I told him many times, but he just smiled and ignored it, and then repeated the same mistakes. Then there’s the person handling factory communications — I checked with finance, and the reimbursement forms seem exaggerated.”

Shu Shiyun’s expression darkened slightly. He recalled that those people were introduced by Lan Xuan, who claimed they were good friends and experienced talents.

At the time, Shu Shiyun had only made a simple assessment and kept them if they passed. Without Fang Jiahua’s reminder, he might have forgotten about it. No wonder that after his accident, Lan Xuan confidently said he could take over everything Shu Shiyun had left behind—it had all been carefully planned in advance.

“I understand.” Shu Shiyun lowered his eyes and pondered.

Seeing his hesitation, Fang Jiahua hurried to assure him, “Boss, I’m not making this up. I have evidence.”

“I trust you.” Shu Shiyun still trusted her—after all, she was his personally chosen assistant. Moreover, he remembered that in the last life, when Shang Cheng managed his brand, Fang Jiahua had left when Lan Xuan took over YS.

“These people definitely need to be let go, but for now, there’s no suitable replacement.”

When she heard this, Fang Jiahua’s eyes lit up. “No worries. I’ve received some resumes before, and a few are very suitable—probably still unemployed. I can reach out and schedule interviews. If you’re free tomorrow, I can arrange them quickly.”

Her prompt reply surprised Shu Shiyun somewhat.

Noticing his gaze, Fang Jiahua quickly explained, “Actually, I wanted to find good candidates for you to compare, but I didn’t expect you to want to replace them all at once—that makes choosing easier.”

“Alright.” Shu Shiyun didn’t ask further. “I’m free these days. Schedule it and let me know in advance.”

Fang Jiahua nodded eagerly. “Got it! I won’t disturb your rest then!”

After speaking, she picked up her small bag and hurried downstairs.

With a loud bang, the door downstairs was shut firmly. Shu Shiyun walked down the corridor to the end, turned off the lights below, and then returned to his room.

The gel-like soothing ointment felt cool on his skin. After entering, he stared into the mirror for a long time. When his phone rang, he turned to answer.

Shang Cheng: [Just finished]

Was it just finished or had he just watched the live stream?

Shu Shiyun couldn’t help but silently chide him, but thinking better of it, he didn’t expose him. Looking at himself in the mirror without makeup, he took a photo.

[Feeling wronged.JPG]

Shang Cheng quickly replied: [What’s wrong?]

Seizing the opportunity, Shu Shiyun sent the photo.

He wore a thin, pale lotus-white round-neck pajama top. To show the effect better, he tugged the collar down with his finger, revealing a slender, fair neck. The red mark stood out starkly.

[Pain]

That simple word felt sufficient.

Shang Cheng: [Did you apply the ointment?]

Shu Shiyun saw the message but deliberately swiped away from the backstage without replying. He lay on the bed waiting for the ointment to absorb and casually reviewed the day’s live stream data.

Although he hadn’t streamed for a long time, the popularity this time was quite good—much better than he expected.

After handling all backstage messages and cleaning up his work accounts, he noticed Fang Jiahua had sent him a new message five minutes ago.

Painter Who Can’t Paint: [Boss, should we try to get something with Chengtian Media? These talent shows have been trending lately, and I just got in touch with them. Not sure if there’s a chance.]

Chengtian Media?

Shu Shiyun’s interest was piqued, and he took a screenshot of the message.

Just as he was about to send it to Shang Cheng, he noticed several messages arriving from him within ten minutes.

Shang Cheng: [If you feel unwell, you should see a doctor.]

Shang Cheng: [Medicine will be delivered to your door in ten minutes. Remember to take it tomorrow.]

Shang Cheng: [Have you rested?]

Shu Shiyun imagined his serious, frowning expression as he sent these messages.

[I was busy with work earlier. Got it.]

[Obedient.JPG]

[I don’t feel too bad now.]

Shang Cheng: [Alright, rest early.]

Suddenly, the tone went cold again.

Shu Shiyun stared at the chat window for dozens of seconds without new messages. After some thought, he chose not to send the photo. Instead, he simply said good night.

Forget it. Although he wanted to catch Shang Cheng’s attention a bit, he didn’t want to seek any benefit from him—that would ruin their relationship.

—

In the following days, he worked with Fang Jiahua to interview several candidates. Most were qualified, so he replaced the people Lan Xuan had introduced earlier.

Finally at the studio, he briefly reviewed upcoming work.

After a busy afternoon, once most things were settled, he took the studio members out for dinner. They were usually serious only during work; at other times, they were easygoing. After filling their stomachs, everyone went their separate ways.

Shu Shiyun went to the outdoor balcony and sat on a rattan swing, playing with his phone.

When tired, he preferred silence, wanting to sit quietly by himself.

Inside the balcony, it was lively. The studio members were familiar with each other, and the new members had joined to play together, which was enjoyable.

Outside, it was very quiet. Looking up at the blue-black night sky, he stared for a long time and suddenly felt very small. Those unblurred memories resurfaced, making him feel deeply sad.

Since a few days ago, he had sent people to monitor the Lansu family. The intermittent reports seemed ridiculous.

Lansu, who pretended to be poor and claimed to have “emptied his family fortune to help him,” still had spare money to buy new properties. Lan Xuan continued to frequent various clubs daily, occasionally bringing new lovers in and out of luxury stores.

There were fake shows of concern. Each time the news came, it filled him with disgust.

Sometimes he felt dazed, wondering if those so-called “past lives” were just his own delusions—maybe he couldn’t accept the true faces of the Lan family and had imagined it all.

But every time he sobered up, he was absolutely certain it was real.

Unconsciously, he picked up his phone and looked at the top chat window. Suddenly, an uncontrollable impulse surged within him.

He thought perhaps only Shang Cheng’s presence could give him some sense of genuine comfort.

He hurried to call—but after a long ring, no one answered.

—

No answer again.

Lowering his eyes, Shu Shiyun dialed once more, but still no connection.

Disappointment swept over him like a tide. He furrowed his brows and powered off his phone, unwilling to look anymore.

He had been busy handling work decisively these days, but only when alone could he reveal a trace of vulnerability.

Ten minutes later, as he prepared to leave, Fang Jiahua also wanted to rest early and offered to drive him home.

Shu Shiyun got in her car. As they neared home, he suddenly thought of something and turned his phone back on.

He still couldn’t resist checking if Shang Cheng had replied. Considering the timing, it should be the day he returned from his business trip. They had been too busy to contact much during the journey, and his longing had expanded to the point of discomfort.

Just as the phone powered on and before he could unlock to check messages, his screen suddenly showed an incoming call.

[Lan Xuan]

His expression grew slightly cold. Shu Shiyun lowered his gaze and didn’t move for a long moment.

Hearing the sound, Fang Jiahua glanced back from the driver’s seat. “Boss, your phone’s ringing.”

“I know.”

Shu Shiyun sighed and answered.

He knew that if he didn’t pick up, Lan Xuan wouldn’t have peace tonight, and tomorrow might bring another hostile ambush.

“Shu Shiyun,” Lan Xuan’s voice came lazily, “why did you fire all my friends? They’ve been working for you for over a year. Letting them all go at once—aren’t you slapping my face?”

Shu Shiyun lowered his eyes, suppressing impatience.

“They weren’t competent. It’s reasonable for me to dismiss them.”

Surprised by his straightforwardness, Lan Xuan exploded. “Shu Shiyun! Aren’t you going too far? You said you needed people, and I specially introduced them for you. Now your business is doing well, and you’re just discarding them like used tools?”

His voice was so loud it echoed inside the car, even without the amplifier. Fang Jiahua, just entering the community gate, couldn’t help but glance back.

Shu Shiyun chuckled lightly. “Lan Xuan, do you really have no idea how useless your friends are?”

Lan Xuan roared, “What do you mean by that?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Shu Shiyun turned and saw the familiar villa in his sight. He nodded to Fang Jiahua and opened the car door. “No wonder they’re your friends. It’s exactly what I expected.”

“What’s the point of personal attacks?” Lan Xuan snarled, “You’re making me lose face in front of my friends! You have to find them suitable jobs, or how am I supposed to explain this?”

Shu Shiyun closed the door and couldn’t help but sneer at his shameless demand.

“Lan Xuan, did I ever give you any face before? For you to have the nerve to order me around like this? Let alone their incompetence—they’re your friends, what do they have to do with me? If you’re so capable, why don’t you place them inside Lanyu directly? Let’s see if you even have the qualifications to insert people into the company. After all, you’re just an idle figure holding a meaningless position with nothing to do all day. If you love them so much, just support them with your own salary.”

Lan Xuan seemed stunned by his words, frozen for two seconds. Before Shu Shiyun hung up, a furious curse came from the other end.

The call ended abruptly. Shu Shiyun promptly sent the last few seconds of the recording to Lansu and then turned off his phone.

Since Lansu wanted to play the role of a good father, he had to personally discipline his ill-mannered stepson; otherwise, how could he maintain the carefully crafted image?

But when he finished and looked up with a cold face, he saw a familiar Maybach parked outside.

Startled for a moment, he watched the rear door slowly open. Shang Cheng, unseen for a week, stepped out and looked at him.

Their eyes met—dark, calm, and deep. Shu Shiyun stood frozen, inexplicably feeling guilty, and involuntarily took a small step back.