QKYJ - 11

I can’t exactly say we were talking about our married life, can I?

Shen Zhi said, “Why are you here?”

“Same as you,” Shen He reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder, also nodding at Ouyang Sheng. “Having dinner with a friend.”

Shen Zhi didn’t mean to offend, but for a moment, she couldn’t resist teasing: “You made new friends again?”

He was clearly someone who hadn’t saved many phone numbers during his four years of university.

Ouyang Sheng also chimed in, “How come you don’t remember to treat an old classmate like me to dinner? If I hadn’t helped you with your final project back then, you wouldn’t have even completed your credits. Now you’re turning your back on me, aren’t you perhaps henpecked?”

Shen He laughed and casually replied, “You’re just jealous. This isn’t being henpecked; it’s called having a good relationship.”

The conversation had ended there, but he showed no intention of leaving.

Shen Zhi understood, tilted her head, and showed a docile profile: “I’ll be staying at Ouyang’s place tonight. Remember to lock the door.”

Ouyang Sheng, who had never heard of this arrangement before, was slightly surprised.

After Shen He left, Shen Zhi stirred her iced water.

After a long pause, Ouyang Sheng finally said, “Did you two have a fight?”

“No,” Shen Zhi replied very frankly.

They arrived downstairs and took a car back to Ouyang Sheng’s apartment. Both of them showered, then propped their legs up against the wall and put on face masks.

“It certainly doesn’t look like a fight.”

Ouyang Sheng recalled Shen Zhi’s expression when she was laughing and talking with Shen He.

Shen Zhi gazed at the ceiling and said casually, “There are some things we might disagree on. I’m not sure.”

“—So you want some buffer time?” Ouyang Sheng replied, “That’s understandable.”

They were silent again for a while.

Ouyang Sheng suddenly sat up, almost twisting her neck, as excited as if she had discovered a new continent: “I know! Is it because you two are nearing your seventh year?”

Upon hearing this, even Shen Zhi subtly glanced sideways.

Had it finally been discovered?

She made no sound, feigning calm beneath the milky white mask.

However, Ouyang Sheng’s eyes lit up: “Is it because you’re worried about the ‘seven-year itch’? I heard that it takes seven years for human cells to complete a full metabolism. So, you could say that after seven years, a person will completely become someone else. Between husband and wife, once passionately in love, but now reduced to mundane domestic matters, such a test—”

“…” Shen Zhi almost wanted to applaud her imaginative thinking. “Something like that.”

The seven-year itch was limited to ordinary couples.

But he and she had never felt bored, because they had never been in love.

________________________________________

Shen Zhi only stayed until noon the next day.

She had an event to attend that evening. It was a party organized by one of Liangyi’s high-ranking executives. Currently, she had no favors to ask of anyone, but maintaining connections was a necessary activity in itself.

Her assistant drove her to and from the event. Shen Zhi said goodbye to Ouyang Sheng, who kept trying to console her: “Every couple goes through it.”

She truly wondered why a single bisexual could be so self-assured, as confident as a red flag bearer of a neighborhood committee mediation group.

Sitting in the nanny van, Shen Zhi leaned her forehead against the window. She pulled out WeChat, and on her and Shen He’s chat interface, the chat times were scattered, with the longest gap being two months. There were no undated entries, nor were there records of pages-long conversations.

She only saw Ding Yaocai when she arrived at the makeup room.

Ding Yaocai said, “Did you know Shen He is also going today?”

Shen Zhi replied, “I don’t know. Then why did they send separate invitations? It feels strange.”

“Xixi sent a message saying Shen He will go first. You’ll see each other there,” Ding Yaocai walked around the room in towering heels, her voice clear, as if it could shatter many young dreams.

Shen Zhi said nothing, closing her eyes and letting the makeup brush sweep across her eyelids.

She wore a dark green gown, not a haute couture one.

Shen Zhi took a glass of champagne, smiled at the person who greeted her, observed the surroundings for a moment, and then walked upstairs. The center of the crowd didn’t necessarily mean a large number of people; sometimes it simply meant being the focus of everyone’s attention.

On a terrace overlooking the night view from the hillside, she found men and women gathered around a dark gold sofa, laughing and chatting.

As Shen Zhi walked over, neither her pinned-up long hair nor her long dress swayed elegantly in the wind.

“Mr. Hua,” she said.

One of the central figures was Hua Zichen, one of Liangyi’s top executives. When Shen Zhi arrived, she naturally became part of the focus, but she didn’t seem to intend to.

Because Shen He was sitting in the seat opposite Hua Zichen.

“Shen Zhi, you and Shen He finally got a vacation. Why didn’t you go out together yesterday?” Hua Zichen smiled teasingly. “You left two grown men like Shen He and me to share toast.”

So, the friend Shen He had dinner with was him.

Shen Zhi was startled, but a smile appeared on her face: “I was giving him his private space.”

Taking advantage of the shift to the next topic, Shen Zhi leaned nearby, her slender, pale arm lightly brushing over the armrest of the sofa. The feel of it was incredibly good, surely worth a lot of money in a furniture store.

She walked directly to the corner.

Needless to say, after waiting a few minutes, Shen He also got up, saying “excuse me,” and left.

He found her in a dimly lit area. Shen Zhi crossed her arms, taking small sips of the amber-colored wine, and said, without shifting her gaze, “You’re making things difficult for me.”

Shen He reached out and leaned on the railing, opening his mouth thoughtfully: “I didn’t know you’d be having dinner there.”

After a moment of silence, Shen Zhi countered: “You didn’t tell me when you got involved with Hua Zichen either, did you?”

The two were silent for a while. Shen He turned around and stood facing the same direction as her.

He didn’t really like to argue with her.

“So, should we have a deeper conversation?” After a long pause, Shen He straightened up. She looked up and saw his oppressive smile. He leaned in, his breath brushing her hair.

Shen Zhi reached out to push him away, returning a knife-like glare: “Don’t be a pervert.”

“I’m not being a pervert with you. I just think checking up isn’t impossible,” he quickly broke free, smoothly adjusting his cuffs, and reverting to that unrestrained, indifferent attitude. “As lawful spouses.”

“What do you mean by ‘not impossible’?” As soon as she said it, Shen Zhi realized something was off. “Who wants to check up on you?!”

From time to time, people passed by, noticing them. Shen He and Shen Zhi were already at a flashpoint, yet they had no choice but to distract themselves and pretend to be loving to cope. Even their arguments were constantly interrupted, so they just let them go.

The two remained silent.

Shen He suddenly said, “I need to go to the restroom.”

Like a primary school student raising their hand to tell the teacher in class.

Shen Zhi didn’t react, touching her earring as she said, “Just go then.”

“Just letting you know,” Shen He gave a very provocative fake smile, “Afraid you’d have trouble finding me.”

As soon as he turned around, she immediately took a running start and slammed her shoulder into his back.

________________________________________

Shen Zhi didn’t expect it to be so cold.

Midway, she thought about getting a cloak. She was planning to ask her assistant to do it, but then she saw the young girl, who had been too busy to eat properly for days, secretly gorging herself at the buffet. After thinking it over, the private parking lot was always secure, so she decided to go herself.

Shen Zhi was fiddling with her phone and sending messages to Ding Yaocai. As she walked, she suddenly turned her head.

In the empty space, only various vehicles were visible.

She continued to walk forward.

Shen Zhi couldn’t let her guard down. She looked back again, and sure enough, she saw a few reporters.

The other party didn’t intend to keep hiding. As if afraid she would disappear into thin air, they immediately rushed over, shouting her name: “Shen Zhi—”

Shen Zhi turned and quickened her pace.

It was common sense not to accept interviews when staff weren’t present, but the uninvited guests behind her, who had somehow snuck in, clearly didn’t care about that. Shen Zhi ducked into the car, and just as she was about to close the door, it was held open by a forceful hand.

It was a male reporter. Under the parking lot lights, his features glistened with oil, and as he spoke rapidly like a machine gun, spit flew at her face.

“Shen Zhi, look here!” he said.

Shen Zhi frowned: “I’m calling the police!”

Then, taking advantage of his moment of distraction, she slammed the door shut again.

Calling the police was impossible. For public figures, calling the police is definitely not the best option. It would cause a huge uproar, playing right into the other party’s hands, and she would suffer the most negative impact herself.

There were three or four of them, a desperate last stand from some struggling media outlet, perhaps. Shen Zhi was trapped in the car, utterly panicked, her phone’s red low-battery warning alarmingly conspicuous.

In the entertainment industry, no artist is truly without a single blemish from beginning to end.

Shen Zhi had also been slandered, more than once. The most serious instance was an accusation of being “kept,” with detailed reports. Due to company efficiency issues, the refutation was unfortunately delayed for a long time.

During that period, an incident of a fan hurting someone occurred.

No more bad situations could happen. Shen Zhi suppressed the trembling in her fingers. Without time to think, she had already dialed a number.

Outside the car window, rapid knocking continued.

The moment the call connected, Shen Zhi held her breath, trying her best to piece together fragmented words into a sentence: “Hello, where are you? Can you come over—”

She didn’t feel how much time had passed.

Probably because she was reflecting on why she would subconsciously contact him.

If someone said they found Shen He terrifying, Shen Zhi wouldn’t be surprised at all. Shen He was like that; he would remind people of Frankenstein, Julien Sorel from Stendhal’s novel—perhaps somewhat contradictory, but true. He was originally a reclusive monster, yet he possessed the duality to easily transform into a heartthrob.

He said, “Stay away from my wife.”

When this person arrived, there were no dazzling special effects, just an impatient and displeased scowl. Shen Zhi leaned against the car window and looked out. Shen He walked over. She suddenly thought, somewhat inappropriately, Why are his dark circles so heavy? He needs to rest properly.

“I really want to kill someone right now,” he said, “so you’d better disappear quickly.”

Facing such a provocative statement, the other party didn’t immediately back down, stammering, utterly losing their composure: “Are you, are you threatening us with death?”

“Give me a break.”

At his wits’ end, Shen He scoffed coldly, not bothering with them. Anyway, any news would have to go through the company first; at this level, it couldn’t be published at all.

He walked past, full of flaws, yet he still made the previously aggressive reporters involuntarily clear a path.

Before he even reached out, she had already opened the door.

Shen Zhi looked up at him, her eyes slightly bright.

For a moment, Shen He paused.

He squeezed in, and she was forced to move aside.

Shen He closed the car door and locked it.

The two of them just stayed in the car like that.

No one spoke until the belated security guards chased away the reporters and then knocked on the car window to apologize to the Shen couple for their dereliction of duty. Shen He politely responded a few words.

Silence once again fell in the car.

Shen Zhi softly said, “Aren’t we going back?”

Shen He answered indirectly: “You’d better not make that kind of expression outside.”

“Huh?” she looked at him, puzzled.

He mimicked her, also saying, “Huh?”

She frowned, reaching out an elbow to nudge him: “Thanks, I caused you trouble.”

“Good you know,” he didn’t humble himself, naturally saying, “I hope you don’t make such a basic mistake again.”

They then got out of the car. They returned the same way. When the wind blew, Shen Zhi had already forgotten the cold, but Shen He suddenly took off his jacket, handed it to her, and then checked his phone.

“Let Hua Zichen apologize,” he said.

She agreed: “He should.”

They took the scenic elevator upstairs, then walked a few steps back into the bustling crowd. He slowed his pace, waiting for her, and she linked her arm through his. Just then, Shen He’s phone screen lit up.

He answered the call, his expression calm, his tone relaxed, chatting for a few moments as if idly, then hung up.

Shen He didn’t rush forward, but continued to operate his phone, casually asking Shen Zhi, “Do you have anything to do in the next few days?”

Shen Zhi shook her head.

“Then go back and charge your Kindle, and bring some checkers, playing cards, something to pass the time… Do you play UNO?” Shen He said unhurriedly.

She asked him, “What happened?”

“It’s nothing major,” he threw her a flawless smile, “My dad died.”