Chapter 05

“Really, I’m so sorry.”

Ruan Zhen released his hands from his mouth, picked up the broom beside him with an apologetic look, and raised his voice.

“What happened? I was just too careless!”

As he spoke, he grabbed the broom in front of Song Shuling, speaking loudly—

“I need to sweep it up quickly!”

It felt great.

This physical act of “scattering the ashes” was truly invigorating.

Ruan Zhen swung the broom without a care, not even looking ahead, until his wrist was grabbed.

“What are you doing!”

Song Shuling’s harsh rebuke pulled him back roughly, the force causing Ruan Zhen’s fingers to loosen, and the broom fell to the ground.

“I’m sweeping up the ashes?”

Song Shuling’s face darkened. “Are you tired of living?”

“No, I’m not,” Ruan Zhen replied, his face pale from pain, but his tone remained light-hearted. “If the ashes are on the ground, wouldn’t you sweep them up?”

Song Shuling was clearly taken aback.

In that moment, they stared directly into each other’s eyes, their emotions clashing, and they both clearly understood each other’s questions.

Why were the ashes on the ground?

Because the urn had fallen.

Why did the urn fall?

Because his hand slipped.

…Song Shuling fell silent.

Ruan Zhen, on the other hand, smiled inexplicably.

What’s the problem?

They had agreed to collect Song Qinwen’s ashes, and what he was doing was completely logical!

Why was Song Shuling looking at him as if he were insane?

Ruan Zhen struggled a bit but couldn’t break free. “Let go!”

Song Shuling only tightened his grip, pulling Ruan Zhen forward, causing him to stumble. Then, he kicked open the door.

The staff outside were startled. “Sir?”

Song Shuling pushed Ruan Zhen forward and instructed his assistant, “Take him to Shuiyun Residence.”

The waiting butler shuddered, not daring to look up.

Shuiyun Residence…

That was Third Lord’s private residence.

Ruan Zhen was Eldest Brother’s wife, and the funeral hadn’t even ended. Why was he being taken to Third Lord’s house?

Ruan Zhen didn’t resist, obediently following, but he sneezed twice, seemingly chilled.

The butler didn’t dare breathe loudly.

Although he had served Song Qinwen for over twenty years with unwavering loyalty and deep affection for the Song family, he had heard of Song Shuling’s methods and didn’t dare to question. There might be some hidden reason, or…

Before his chaotic thoughts could finish, he heard Song Shuling call him.

“Wang Bo,”

The sound of gears grinding, a faint blue flame flickered, illuminating Song Shuling’s profile for a moment.

The rest of his sentence mixed with the tobacco scent, somewhat unclear.

“Go in and clean up.”

The butler nodded hurriedly, pushing the door open and stepping inside, frowning after a few steps.

How could the floor be so dirty, so messy, covered in dust?

He grumbled in dissatisfaction and stepped right over it.

“Be careful not to make a mess,”

Song Shuling, holding a thin cigarette between his fingers, said, “Sweep it up properly, carefully.”

The butler didn’t understand: “What?”

Incredibly, he felt Song Shuling smiling.

Song Shuling was handsome, with sharp, intense features. He occasionally smiled, but those smiles were cold and distant, lacking warmth. Sometimes, when reading or at gatherings, he would wear gold-rimmed glasses, which added a touch of warmth to his otherwise somber demeanor.

The butler always found Third Lord contradictory.

Not nearsighted, yet he wore glasses when reading.

Despite his noble status, he enjoyed close combat sports.

And that smile now was inexplicably complex.

His eyes were on the ground, his tone indifferent.

“Because, that’s my brother.”

Ruan Zhen slept in the car.

He felt warm and cozy.

So warm!

The car’s air conditioning was set to a comfortable temperature, and there was a soft blanket he wrapped tightly around himself, falling asleep immediately.

The driver and the bulky bodyguard in front were like emotionless robots, silently following Song Shuling’s instructions, not speaking or interfering. For an hour, they didn’t even glance at Ruan Zhen.

Ruan Zhen was glad for the peace.

When the car stopped quietly, he sat up groggily, looking out at the dark night. “Where are we?”

He had no memory of Shuiyun Residence.

The bodyguard remained silent, walking around the car to open the door and gesturing for him to enter.

At this moment, the driver finally spoke, his first words of the night.

“Please put this down.”

Ruan Zhen stood at the car door, pulling at the edge of the blanket, confused. “What?”

“Sir doesn’t like others touching his things, so please put it back.”

Ruan Zhen was speechless. “But I’ve already touched it and slept with it.”

“So I’ll throw it away,”

The driver continued, “You just need to put it back.”

Ruan Zhen: “…”

He had already ridden in the car, why not throw the car away too?

What, are you just making these cheap things to maintain your domineering CEO image?

He tossed the blanket back in. “A bit wasteful.”

“It’s okay,” the driver smiled, “It’s less than ten thousand yuan.”

Ruan Zhen’s hand paused.

Three seconds later, he grabbed the blanket again, draped it over himself, and walked away confidently.

The driver hurriedly got out of the car. “That’s Sir’s rule…”

“You threw it away, and I picked it back up,” Ruan Zhen said without turning around. “What’s the problem?”

If he didn’t ask, you wouldn’t say, and now that he asked, you’re surprised.

That’s it, right?

Ruan Zhen had already taken the blame, so as a worker, he shouldn’t empathize with a capitalist like Song Shuling.

Otherwise, he’d just be in debt.

In front of him was a typical Chinese villa, with bamboo groves and a babbling stream, the yard planted with evergreen pines and a faint floral scent. Occasional bird calls made the night even more serene.

Ruan Zhen stepped onto a path of white pebbles, following the directions to a room on the second floor.

“You can rest here,”

The uniformed servant bowed. “I hope you have a pleasant rest.”

The door closed.

Ruan Zhen smiled. “Thank you.”

No explanation, no idea why Song Shuling had brought him here—didn’t matter, he could guess.

He had scattered his brother’s ashes.

Sigh… This was going to be a bit troublesome.

Just a small incident, he hoped Song Shuling would be magnanimous and not be so petty.

Ruan Zhen sat on the bed. He wanted to cause chaos in the Song family, and the young masters wouldn’t let him off. He could only rely on Song Shuling’s power to protect himself and his grandfather.

And the yellow dog.

It had no other name, just “yellow dog.”

Sometimes Zhang Laotou would call, “Dog, dog, why aren’t you eating?”

The yellow dog would wag its tail gently, resting its chin on Ruan Zhen’s shoes, panting softly.

Because it was old, its face was gray, and its once-black eyes had developed light spots. The doctor said it was an eye problem, but the surgery risk was too high, so they suggested letting it take its natural course.

Zhang Laotou looked at Ruan Zhen. “Kid, try to coax it, maybe it will eat.”

Ruan Zhen tore the food into small pieces, placing them in his palm, letting the yellow dog eat slowly from the side.

The warm breath on his hand was a common scene in the courtyard at sunset.

If not for Song Qinwen, their ordinary life would have continued forever.

But for the powerless Ruan Zhen, beauty was not a weapon, but a treasure that attracted attention.

Slow down, just a bit more! He would soon be able to work, earn money, and provide a good life for Zhang Laotou and the yellow dog.

Zhang Laotou never called them by fancy names. He had raised Ruan Zhen and the yellow dog for years, calling them “puppy” and “kid.”

The puppy had grown old, and the kid had grown up.

In such a large bed, Ruan Zhen curled into a ball, covered with a blanket and a quilt.

He was so exhausted that he could endure the cold without pulling down the heavy curtains to wrap himself in them.

Before falling into a deep sleep, Ruan Zhen lifted his eyelids and sighed softly.

Forget it, the curtains here looked heavy, and he was too tired and hungry to pull them down.

He had a good sleep.

Ruan Zhen was woken by bird calls, stretching comfortably and about to yawn when he suddenly froze.

…Damn.

He curled up in pain, gasping.

The leather leg ring had rubbed his thigh raw, and the more private areas were even more uncomfortable.

Ruan Zhen pulled back the covers, his face pale, and headed to the bathroom.

He had been too tired last night to shower. From recent experience, applying moisturizing lotion after a shower helped a lot.

He cursed under his breath, walking to the bathroom mirror.

The perverted Song Qinwen deserved to have nothing come out in his final days!

He had even forced himself to think about how to get the key.

But after forcing Ruan Zhen to wear the leg ring, Song Qinwen had barely left the bed, coughing loudly and barely hanging on.

Ruan Zhen undid his buttons one by one.

The black funeral attire slid off, first revealing his rounded shoulders, then his chest and waist, and finally his long legs.

In the mirror, he stood like a newborn lamb.

Naked, unobstructed, his expression innocent and open.

Ruan Zhen frowned, touching his groin.

At the same time, Song Shuling removed his glasses.

He hadn’t slept all night, having just returned from Song Qinwen’s burial. He took off his coat, opened a bottle of red wine, and leaned back on the luxurious sofa in the large living room.

Ruan Zhen, on the other side of the two-way mirror, frowned slightly, looking somewhat pained.

Song Shuling’s face was expressionless as he watched Ruan Zhen undress, standing barefoot on the bathroom floor.

Through the mirror, they stared at each other.

When the delicate chain appeared, Song Shuling lifted the glass of red wine.

The dark liquid swirled, leaving a trail of light on the glass.

He lowered his lashes and took a calm sip.