Chapter 55: Mocking Others for Having No Moral Bottom Line, Simply Because You’ve Never Been a Bad Person

“Do you want to criticize me? There are many people like me. Compared to those who pretend to be respectable by getting married but go out and engage in debauchery, I maintain self-discipline, work hard, and when I date girls, I pay the bills and give gifts. We each get what we need—what’s wrong with that?”

Zheng Ze Yan from the twelfth floor stood smiling at the elevator door. The moment Yu Zhi Mei stepped into the living room, she was momentarily stunned. The 120-square-meter three-bedroom, two-living-room apartment wasn’t particularly spacious, but it had an excellent view. Floor-to-ceiling windows let sunlight flood the living room, and the white marble flooring made the space bright and airy. Compared to her cramped old house, this place felt like heaven. The kitchen was connected to the living room, and on the floor were an elliptical machine, dumbbells, and even a set of TRX equipment—Zheng Ze Yan had turned his home into a gym. Three doors led to the study and bedrooms, while another was slightly ajar. The only lively spot in the house was the cat tree. Jian Zhao Wen walked barefoot across the floor, sneering at the hanging equipment until he noticed a gramophone on a pale apricot-colored table. In the minimalist yet modern living room, it was clear the antique was of high quality. Seeing Jian Zhao Wen’s fixed gaze, Zheng Ze Yan looked slightly puzzled; Jian Zhao Wen remained expressionless: “Don’t be so formal. I just have an interest in audio equipment.”

“It was a gift from a friend of my father’s. I think it’s average. I don’t have much interest in audio equipment—you can take it if you like. Better to give it to someone who needs it.”

Jian Zhao Wen was surprised—it was at least a six-figure antique, and Zheng Ze Yan was offering it so casually. Rolling up his sleeves and putting on an apron, Zheng Ze Yan’s chest muscles peeked through, incredibly sexy. “Why didn’t that young girl come this time?”

“She’s been sick lately. What, are you interested in her?” Yu Zhi Mei blinked in surprise.

“Just average,” Zheng Ze Yan deliberately feigned a smile. “She seems hard to shake off.”

Harsh. After hearing this, Yu Zhi Mei pouted: “Sister He wanted to come too, but she was too busy at the shop to make it.”

She wouldn’t come again, of course. Zheng Ze Yan’s glasses slid down to the tip of his nose: “What kind of woman is this dessert shop owner usually?”

Yu Zhi Mei suddenly hesitated. Her first thought was that Sister He was a married woman whose relationship with her husband had broken down, and who was enthusiastic about seeking pleasure—but she couldn’t say that out loud. She had to dig deeper into her memory: “She has race cars and motorcycles. There’s also a bookshelf on the third floor of the dessert shop. She’s a very free-spirited woman who often teaches young girls that love is paramount.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“If you spend more time with her, you’ll like her.”

“That’s probably generosity brought by wealth. The three-story old building of the dessert shop is a protected cultural heritage site.”

Hearing this, Yu Zhi Mei wasn’t particularly happy. Zheng Ze Yan seemed to have a lot of preconceived notions about Sister He. Pushing his glasses back up, Zheng Ze Yan opened the kiwi fruit Jian Zhao Wen had brought: “Sounds so free. I really admire that kind of life—even living off others sounds appealing.” With a mischievous grin, Zheng Ze Yan bit into the kiwi, only to grimace as the sourness hit him. Jian Zhao Wen, teasing the cat from afar, had been waiting for this moment: “Sorry, it might not be ripe yet.”

Men who have lived in Shanghai for a long time are unimaginably meticulous about life. Standing at the kitchen island, Zheng Ze Yan’s back looked gentle and domestic. At first glance, he resembled a tender husband. The steak in the pan flipped easily; the red side had turned deep brown, sizzling with oil. Asparagus and tomatoes waited patiently by the edge of the pan to be cooked, while next to them, pasta was covered with thick mozzarella cheese, emitting a rich aroma. Aged wine paired with red meat—every bite Zheng Ze Yan took was accompanied by a stare at Yu Zhi Mei’s lips. Jian Zhao Wen, tired of staring, still refused to let Zheng Ze Yan off easily. The first defeat of a rival: while he could only boil water and cook noodles, Zheng Ze Yan’s culinary skills were extraordinary.

“Work is usually too busy. It’s rare to have friends over, and opportunities to eat together and have heartfelt conversations are few.”

On the shelf by the wall near the dining table were skincare products and hairbands typically used by women. Jian Zhao Wen noticed them—a thirty-year-old investor earning millions a year living in a luxury apartment inviting girls home was perfectly normal. Yu Zhi Mei, however, continued to politely ask: “What do you usually do?”

“Work out, read books, and I enjoy going out with girls—I prefer thrilling experiences.”

No hesitation whatsoever. The words coming out of Jian Zhao Wen’s mouth grew sharper, his tone biting: “So, did you invite Yu Zhi Mei?”

Zheng Ze Yan smiled at him without refuting it. Yu Zhi Mei flicked Jian Zhao Wen’s forehead: “What are you thinking about? Your mind is full of nonsense.”

“Since all three of us are here, how about a threesome?” Seeing Yu Zhi Mei and Jian Zhao Wen purse their lips in silence, Zheng Ze Yan laughed: “Just kidding.”

Jian Zhao Wen clenched his fists: “That joke went too far.”

Tension filled the air. Yu Zhi Mei continued the conversation: “So… do you use dating apps?”

“Of course. My favorite is lovedate.”

Yu Zhi Mei gave a thumbs-up, then pointed horizontally at Jian Zhao Wen: “He made it.”

Zheng Ze Yan was surprised: “I didn’t realize. My apologies. This drink is on me. But recently, there’s an app called DayNight that’s better—the nighttime feature is quite attractive.”

“Sorry, I made that one too.”

“Then I truly underestimated you.”

Yu Zhi Mei seized the opportunity to change the subject: “I remember Zhang Yao once mentioned that you really wanted to get married.”

“That was during university when I lacked confidence and wanted to settle down quickly. Not anymore. Back then, I was a skinny guy under a hundred pounds, Yu Zhi Mei knows.”

“I remember. During the final exams for your major surveying, you wore a straw hat and looked like a measuring rod.”

“So now I work out, enjoy life, and live in the moment.” Seeing Jian Zhao Wen’s expression, Zheng Ze Yan smirked wickedly: “Do you want to criticize me? There are many people like me. Compared to those who use marriage as a facade and then go out and indulge in debauchery, I maintain self-discipline, work hard, and when I date girls, I pay the bills and give gifts. We each get what we need—what’s wrong with that?”

The second defeat of a rival: the opponent was too straightforward, using direct attacks to confuse. Jian Zhao Wen, rigid and upright, lacked the boldness to counter effectively.

The three dined together, each seemingly harboring their own thoughts. Jian Zhao Wen didn’t know what Yu Zhi Mei was thinking. Hormones filled the room, yet she calmly reminisced as if nothing was amiss. Jian Zhao Wen kept provoking; having set Zheng Ze Yan as his rival, he didn’t want to lose. Zheng Ze Yan removed his apron and stretched his back forcefully, his chest muscles faintly visible under his T-shirt. Yu Zhi Mei saw the movement, and Jian Zhao Wen didn’t miss it either. Instead of hiding, Zheng Ze Yan became more interested in teasing Jian Zhao Wen: “I really like this fresh ribeye—it’s good medium or medium-well. When you bite into it, it feels like a French kiss.”

What a terrible metaphor. Zheng Ze Yan didn’t seem to think so: “My university days weren’t great. The person I had a crush on became someone else’s girlfriend in our first year. The only thing I was proud of was getting into graduate school in Shanghai.”

The person he had a crush on, of course, was Yu Zhi Mei. “Come on, the entire college was crushing on Xu Su Er back then. She was beautiful and could dance—The Spirit of the Peacock isn’t something just anyone can perform.”

“So later, she became an actress, starred in TV dramas, and passed away from depression. Such a pity.” Seeing the red wine finished, Zheng Ze Yan fetched another bottle from the cabinet, opening it skillfully: “TV dramas stereotype characters, and in the end, they consume the actors. Most people should thank TV dramas for constantly preaching conservative ideas, endlessly teaching couples to endure for the sake of their children. The party without morals can act even more shamelessly.”

“That’s unfair to women.” Yu Zhi Mei suddenly became serious.

“It has nothing to do with gender. There are also women who seek thrills, take care of themselves financially, and have younger boyfriends. Ultimately, whoever holds the advantage in social resources can afford to be more reckless.” These words spilled coldly from Zheng Ze Yan’s thin lips, his expression indifferent, as if he’d seen it all before: “Most people stick to outdated norms, restraining themselves to follow traditional values, neither competing nor striving, only complaining. In the end, they begrudge others for living freely. Don’t you think that’s a greater evil?”

Yu Zhi Mei put down her glass: “I’m going to the restroom.”

Only Zheng Ze Yan and Jian Zhao Wen were left at the dining table. Jian Zhao Wen watched the man calmly cutting his steak, then put down his utensils and spoke seriously: “About half a year ago, Yu Zhi Mei had a boyfriend who secretly harassed many female users on DayNight behind her back. Though she never said anything, it affected her deeply.”

“I know. I’ve seen that video of the affair.”

“If you harbor similar intentions toward her, I won’t let you off.”

“No need to be so hostile toward me. I’m not a bad person. Relax—I’m just pursuing someone I like, seeking a bit of excitement, nothing inappropriate. I work in finance too; I wouldn’t ruin my reputation.”

The ice cubes melted in the glass, tinkling softly. The cat circled around Jian Zhao Wen’s feet, leaping onto the table to lick his hand, gentler than ever. Zheng Ze Yan cleared the plates, put on his glasses, and began peeling fruit, avoiding eye contact with Jian Zhao Wen: “I like your recommendation algorithm—it’s simple yet somewhat humanized. Lately, though, it’s become a bit too aggressive. Still, I bought the VIP service for lovedate. After all, your ads are everywhere in first-tier cities, and the circle is small but precise.”

“DayNight will also have a VIP service—it’ll be better than lovedate.”

“My apologies.” Zheng Ze Yan smiled: “You really enjoy making hookup apps.”

“Don’t think of me as so shallow. DayNight is a social app focused on heart-to-heart communication, allowing everyone to speak their true feelings and find true love without shame.” Zheng Ze Yan looked earnestly at Jian Zhao Wen, but Jian Zhao Wen wasn’t happy: “I know you might say these things can be done on WeChat or Weibo. But some people need a place where they’re free from work and family troubles, where they can feel protected and needed.”

“Without seeing the settings and actual users, no one can easily define an app.” Zheng Ze Yan didn’t seem to listen to Jian Zhao Wen’s ambitions, merely swirling his wine glass: “Social interaction is a necessity—it’s always possible. It depends on whether you’re doing business with a portion of everyone or all the business of a portion of people. When the time comes to find investors, I can help you.”

The phone rang. Jian Zhao Wen frowned, went into the study, closed the door, and answered. Zheng Ze Yan approached Yu Zhi Mei. His silver tabby kitten was sprawled on the cat tree, rolling onto its back and batting at Yu Zhi Mei’s fingers. Yu Zhi Mei laughed: “Domestic flowers aren’t as fragrant as wild ones. Whenever I see new cats outside, I can’t help but want to play with them longer.”

“Want a tour of my house?”

“Sure.”

Beyond the living room was a corridor. Hanging on the corridor wall was an oil painting, reportedly created layer by layer by Zheng Ze Yan’s friend, stroke by stroke adding color. The bedroom was clean and simple, containing only a bed and a bedside table. On the bed lay a book. Yu Zhi Mei glanced at the cover—it seemed to be a Japanese erotic manga. Zheng Ze Yan looked a bit awkward after noticing her gaze: “Sorry. But aside from the erotic elements, it’s a pure love story—I really like it.”

Not knowing how to respond, Yu Zhi Mei retreated from the bedroom, accidentally bumping into the door of another room. Coincidentally, the door was slightly ajar, and she stumbled in, slipping on a small ball. Zheng Ze Yan turned on the light, looking slightly embarrassed: “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize—it’s my fault for stepping on your things.” Yu Zhi Mei picked up the ball from the floor, examining it for three seconds before realizing what it was. Looking around the room, she was dumbfounded when Zheng Ze Yan leaned against the door, locking it gently, and smiled down at her.

P.S.: What else can you do in a three-bedroom apartment besides bedrooms and a study? Find out in the next chapter. Zheng Ze Yan isn’t as shallow as he seems—he has many stories ahead! If you like it, feel free to add it to your favorites and vote for recommendations. Let’s chat today!