Shen Keye’s room was spacious, dominated by a dark color scheme overall.
A dim yellow floor lamp, designed by a Russian artist, cast its glow across the space. Shen Keye was watching footage of an event, dressed in gray-black loungewear. He sat with his legs spread on the black leather sofa beside the bed, a bookmarked collector’s edition of 《Faust》 resting nearby.
It was a room that exuded sufficient oppression and understated luxury, amplified by his intensely commanding presence.
Liang Jin stepped through the door and frowned slightly. “My sister’s sick,” she explained. “Deng Jiayi came to deliver her medical report.”
The rain outside intensified, drumming against the stained-glass windows with a noisy patter.
“He wouldn’t hand over the report to me,” Liang Jin continued. “He insisted I come with him, so here I am. I didn’t expect to run into you.”
The young man lifted his gaze. “Close the door.”
Liang Jin stared at him, her heart pounding furiously. “What for?”
She hated being alone with him in such a confined space.
Shen Keye adjusted his tone. “What, afraid?” He gave a faint smile, utterly nonchalant. “Do I eat people?”
Liang Jin ventured a guess. “You heard everything Deng Jiayi said.”
“The butler told me.”
Liang Jin knew exactly which part: the “fiancée” remark. “Do you believe it?”
His cotton-linen loungewear hugged the lean, powerful lines of Shen Keye’s frame. He leaned forward slightly and switched off the monitor.
His magnetic young voice carried a trace of Cantonese accent, laced with cold amusement. “No.”
At Shen Keye’s denial, Liang Jin felt an absurd wave of relief.
Shen Keye casually queued up a Russian song, its melody dark and perilous, the lyrics roughly translating to “Die if you don’t love me.”
In the murky light of the room, Liang Jin met Shen Keye’s pitch-black eyes. His tone was flat. “You told others we’re not close.”
“I’m sorry,” Liang Jin apologized quickly. “You know how it is with outsiders around.”
She added, “Besides, we really don’t have much of a connection anyway.”
Her short gray skirt barely skimmed halfway down her thighs, and her silver tassel earrings glimmered with every sway in the dimness, lending her an air of aloof appeasement.
In her soft voice, Liang Jin said, “If we did have some kind of relationship, maybe I wouldn’t have denied it.”
She paused, then walked slowly toward him, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.
With utmost seriousness, she asked, “Are you going to give me a birthday gift tomorrow?”
The music’s pitch climbed higher. Deng Jiayi had finished reviewing the condition and was instructing the old butler. “He still needs to take it easy afterward. He can get around, but no getting upset.”
The man’s voice drew nearer, footsteps mingling with the chaotic rain and ominous music.
Liang Jin glanced back over her shoulder and frowned.
She had just refused to shut the door.
Shen Keye had clearly heard the commotion outside as well. “You want a gift?”
“Mm-hm.”
Shen Keye instructed, “Touch here.”
On his cool, detached features, he crooked a finger toward the small black mole on his high-bridged nose.
Liang Jin froze.
She had no idea what kind of request this was. Unthinkingly, she lowered her voice. “If I do… what happens?”
The Shen Family’s wooden stairs creaked—thud, thud—the footsteps almost at the second floor.
Shen Keye fixed her with his stare. “I’ll consider helping you out.”
Liang Jin hesitated and glanced back again. On the spiral staircase nearby, she could already make out Deng Jiayi’s black trouser legs.
“For instance,” Shen Keye said, “I could wire you the money first for showing up at tomorrow’s gambling table.”
The sum he had promised her: sixty thousand per round.
Shen Keye was a cut above the likes of Liang Wenbin, at least—at least he was truly generous with her.
Liang Jin frowned. Her slender, icy fingertip rose, hovering uncertainly before slowly tracing the hard line of his nose bridge.
Shen Keye felt an itch burrow deep into his bones.
The girl’s breath was close, her cool half-profile shrouded in shadow. Her gaze, not entirely sincere, stirred a brew of unease and deception.
Deng Jiayi had spotted Liang Jin just ahead. He couldn’t quite make her out, only her silhouette. “Jinjin, what are you doing here?”
He headed toward the room.
Liang Jin startled and tried to pull her hand away. But Shen Keye seized her wrist, holding it fast. She tugged hard but couldn’t break free.
“Shen Keye, enough!” Liang Jin whispered urgently.
The sharp, spicy scent of cold cedar from Shen Keye’s body filled her senses.
He stared at her, eyes narrowing in amusement as he leaned in, nearly brushing her nose.
In a cold tone and Cantonese, Shen Keye murmured, “Jinjin, do we really look like strangers right now?”
…
Back in the car, Liang Jin was still reeling.
Deng Jiayi looked displeased. “Liang Jin, how could you go into the host’s room?”
“Didn’t I tell you to behave?”
Liang Jin lifted her gaze coolly and demanded, “Deng Jiayi, once you’re done, give me Liang Wei’s report.”
Deng Jiayi seemed impatient. “Is that all you see me as with me? Just someone to use?”
Earlier, he had slammed the car door, trapping Liang Jin in the passenger seat.
She frowned as a payment notification chimed on her phone.
Tomorrow’s chess match was best of five games, but Shen Keye had anticipated a full five and wired her three hundred thousand upfront.
To Shen Keye, money really was just a string of digits.
Liang Jin glanced at the text message and said, “If you’re not giving it, then forget it.”
She now had enough to pay for a new genetic test for Liang Wei.
The girl unbuckled her seatbelt, ready to leave.
Even Deng Jiayi’s even temper couldn’t withstand the blaze of his anger. “Liang Jin, I’ve realized that no matter how good I am to you, it’s like you can never be tamed.”
Liang Jin smiled faintly. She and Deng Jiayi had only met a handful of times, and while those first impressions had been decent enough…
The girl bluntly flung open the car door, popped her umbrella, and stepped into the rain. Her cold smile carried a note of skepticism. “Deng Jiayi, you talk of using you?”
Her fingertips still tingled with the memory of Shen Keye’s touch—the sharp contours of bone lurking beneath her skin, his scent clinging stubbornly to her.
The girl’s smile took on an edge of arrogance as she delivered her verdict: “You’re not qualified.”
Liang Jin glanced up at the second-floor windowsill of the villa, where Shen Keye had stood moments ago. It was now empty.
~~~
Liang Jin’s eighteenth birthday fell on October 23, 2014—a Thursday, with skies overcast and turning to rain.
In truth, she lay tossing and turning in bed past midnight, sleepless. Wu Lin and her friend at distant Peking University had sent their birthday wishes.
In the dead of night, Liang Jin dragged herself up to pore over chess openings. She had taken the game seriously these past days, studying chess diligently, but she knew better: victory or defeat had nothing to do with her skill. It all hinged on Shen Keye’s whim.
She didn’t sleep a wink that night.
With no morning classes, her rendezvous with Shen Keye was set for ten a.m.
Around campus these days, posters had even cropped up prematurely celebrating “Jiang Manyu Defends Her Lead Actress Title.”
Some insisted Jiang Manyu had earned it fair and square.
Before heading out, her roommate mentioned voting for her.
Liang Jin’s tally had climbed lately, but she always trailed Jiang Manyu by dozens of votes.
“You’re just unlucky,” her roommate said. “Jiang Manyu’s the Crown Prince’s girlfriend, after all. Those numbers look fishy.”
Liang Jin’s hand paused on her bag as a faint, mocking smile curved her lips.
She tugged down the brim of her gray duckbill cap and made for the Equipment Room.
TVB news would announce the lead actress at noon. In the current real-time count, Liang Jin lagged seventy-two votes behind Jiang Manyu.
Her phone rang—Deng Jiayi. “I’ve mailed the report to you.”
They had parted angrily yesterday, and she nearly hung up, but wary of complications, she answered.
Deng Jiayi sighed, his tone softening. “I was out of line yesterday. I’ve thought it over—you’re young, and your family didn’t raise you right. But Liang Jin, we’ve only known each other for three months.”
Liang Wenbin had complained that his daughter was poorly disciplined yet insisted he wouldn’t sell her cheap.
To arrange this meeting, Deng Jiayi had bailed Liang Wenbin out of a six-figure hole, shelling out a small fortune before the man would play ball.
He never imagined Liang Jin wouldn’t show the slightest gratitude.
She paused at Deng Jiayi’s words, surprised he’d still send the report after how she’d treated him.
“If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up,” she said coldly.
Deng Jiayi sounded urgent. “I’m flying back to the Mainland soon, but Liang Jin, there are things you need to know…”
“Like what?”
“Your father has it rough!”
Liang Jin found the mere mention of Liang Wenbin ridiculous.
She moved to end the call, but Deng Jiayi pressed on. “Your father’s exhausted himself over Liang Wei’s illness. This coma—the genetic test finally pinpointed the cause. It’s the same disease as your mother’s…”
The Equipment Room at Hong Kong University measured several dozen square meters, its tiered metal shelves lined with sports gear and foam mats.
Liang Jin stood alone before the chessboard, a chill like ice in her veins.
Her angry words lodged in her throat as she rasped, “…What?”
Zeng Zhi’s condition was a rare disease, undetectable by routine tests and devilishly hard to cure outright—otherwise, it never would have advanced to organ failure.
The girl’s lips quivered as a new message lit up her screen.
Zeng Zhi wrote: 【Weiwei’s awake. She asked me to wish her big sister a happy birthday.】
Moments later, another arrived.
【Jinjin, you’re an adult now. Happy birthday.】
Liang Jin’s mouth fell open. She didn’t even notice the others entering the Equipment Room.
Deng Jiayi’s voice echoed through the Equipment Room, his tone earnest and sincere. “Liang Jin, your dad’s business is really on the brink of bankruptcy. He has his reasons—things he can’t help. You need to forgive him. And now Liang Wei is sick too. He wants to help with the money, but he’s flat broke.”
Liang Jin knew Liang Wenbin all too well. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want to pay; back when Zeng Zhi was ill, he’d dragged his feet even over a twenty-yuan registration fee.
Liang Wei’s household registration was under Liang Wenbin’s name, but her school fees and living expenses had always come from Zeng Zhi.
Liang Jin could barely hear her own voice as she asked, “What exactly are you trying to say?”
Deng Jiayi sounded certain. “Liang Jin, I can cover that money for you.”
“What money?”
“All of it.”
Deng Jiayi laid it out. “I can cover every penny you’re short. Whether it’s medical bills for your mom and sister, or plugging the holes in your dad’s business…”
His tone grew urgent, laced with a touch of arrogance and the unshakable conviction that he was the only one who could do it. Deng Jiayi stated his condition: “As long as you come with me.”
For a fleeting moment, Liang Jin actually considered it. Then she heard a short, abrupt laugh.
Casual. Carefree.
Shen Keye had been leaning against the metal rack, listening for quite some time.
Outside, the sky hung heavy and overcast. Dim light filtered in through the skylight, too weak to illuminate the chessboard. It only vaguely outlined the boy’s disheveled yet upright figure.
The instant Liang Jin’s gaze met his, her thoughts turned to chaos. Her fingers trembled without her realizing it, and she subconsciously reached to end the call.
Shen Keye fished a blue-black cigarette case from his pocket. With his distinctly knuckled fingers, he plucked out a cigarette, stepped forward, and said, “Got a light?”
She knew hearing those words would make Shen Keye angry. In her panic, Liang Jin scrambled to explain. “Shen Keye, the guy on the phone is…”
When Shen Keye’s eyelids drooped, an oppressive aura seeped through that was impossible to ignore. No one could tell if he was pleased or furious. His gaze flicked to the call display, and he let out a cold scoff, cutting her off. “Looks like he didn’t hear a single word I said yesterday.”
He towered half a head taller than Liang Jin. As he drew closer and loomed right in front of her, his shadow engulfed her completely.
Shen Keye stared at Liang Jin without a flicker of emotion. “Jinjin, you didn’t tell him—with a guy like that, there’s already a line ahead of him.”