Shang Shao was not someone who often looked back.
In the year after he broke up with Yu Shasha, she never gave up trying to contact him. But he never met with her, nor did he ever answer her calls. Yu Shasha’s father was a consul at the British Embassy Beijing, and Yu Shasha herself moved within Hong Kong’s social circles, frequently appearing at lectures and forums at major universities, as well as glamorous charity galas and public welfare events. Between father and daughter, they had built up quite an extensive network of connections, and Yu Shasha had even tried to use those connections to reach him.
“I haven’t seen her in a very long time.” Shang Shao loosened his embrace and studied Ying Yin’s expression. “Why do you think I still care about her?”
Ying Yin had cried for so long just now that the tear tracks on her face were half-dry, half-wet, with a single tear still hanging from her chin.
The tear glistened. Shang Shao bent his fingers slightly and gently wiped it away with the side of his finger.
“You’ve been crying this long?” He sounded faintly amused, but his tone was gentle.
The lighting was soft and intimate. The tip of Ying Yin’s nose was tinged with a delicate cherry-pink. She answered neither that question nor the previous one about Shasha. Instead, she pouted stubbornly and turned her gaze away.
She felt unbearably embarrassed. Heat surged through her body in waves, rushing up into her cheeks.
“You were the one who asked to break up, and you’re also the one crying. What kind of logic is that?” Shang Shao took both of Ying Yin’s hands in his, rubbing gently at the base of her fingers. “So what is this supposed to mean? Are you determined to break up with me for good, or are you agreeing to what I asked just now – willing to be with me?”
The man was half-leaning against the edge of the table, his long legs braced one in front of the other, waist slightly bent. He looked effortlessly relaxed and charming, making Ying Yin seem like a young girl in comparison, patiently coaxed by him without the slightest hurry.
Ying Yin stayed silent for a long while.
Shang Shao’s tone lifted slightly at the end as he prompted her with a quiet, “Hm?”
“Stay together, or end it?”
Ying Yin closed her eyes. Her arms slipped around his waist as she pressed herself into his embrace.
“I need to think about it a little longer,” she said stubbornly, though the tip of her nose stung with fresh tears.
Shang Shao pulled her fully into his arms. Hearing that, he couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. Resting his chin against the top of her head, he coaxed softly, “You’re going to think about it like this? Well… I suppose that’s not impossible.”
Her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist, and her scent filled his senses. He stayed silent for a moment, but in the end, he couldn’t hold back any longer. Tightening his grip around her almost fiercely, he kissed her.
Ying Yin was kissed until her waist arched backward, nearly bending in half. Her legs went weak, unable to support her. Shang Shao lifted her up, supporting both her knees together in his arms. He set her down on the long dining table, kissing her all the while as he tugged her knit sweater loose from her waist.
When the clasp came undone, both their breathing turned uneven, each swallowing back a soft sigh of relief in their throats.
Ying Yin only heard the low, languid hum that escaped through his nose.
The white candle burned steadily, its gentle light illuminating that mischievous hand of his.
It was almost unfair that his hands were so beautiful. Even doing something like this, he remained skilled and unhurried, never showing the slightest trace of impatience.
Shang Shao’s fingers moved teasingly as his lips hovered only inches from Ying Yin’s. His gaze was deep, but his emotions were still as a dark pool – impossible to read, except for the danger beneath.
Ying Yin held his gaze in silence for two seconds. She couldn’t withstand it. Her body had already gone soft.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders as she lowered her head and kissed him on her own initiative, parting her lips to invite his tongue into the kiss.
This was what a kiss should feel like – not like the one they shared earlier on the Hong Kong–Zhuhai–Macau Bridge, where neither of them could fully give in, nor fully pull away.
Shang Shao was finally satisfied. The heart that had been hanging uneasily in his chest at last settled.
His hand pressed harder.
The servants and the musicians stood outside the dining room exchanging bewildered looks, completely unsure how things had progressed inside. Why was it so quiet? No fighting, no arguing, and no one storming out?
One of them made a call to ask Lin Cunkang for instructions. Lin Cunkang was out shopping with his wife. After taking the call, his expression turned grave as he dialed Shang Shao.
The phone rang for a while before the young master picked up. His voice was low and hoarse.
“It’s fine.”
The call ended.
Not long after they resumed kissing, Ying Yin’s phone rang too.
It was Ying Fan.
A call from her mother, of course, had to be answered. Ying Yin cleared her throat. “Mom, Merry Christmas.”
Ying Fan immediately asked, “Do you have a cold? Why is your voice so hoarse? And why do you sound so stuffed up?”
Shang Shao was pressed close against Ying Yin, lazily kissing the corner of her lips now and then, hearing every word clearly.
He wanted to laugh so badly that he buried his face in the hollow of her neck instead.
Ying Yin was mortified. She mumbled vaguely, trying to play dumb. “Maybe… maybe I caught a cold.”
Ying Fan sounded concerned. “New Year’s is coming up soon. Should I come stay with you for a bit?”
Ying Yin instinctively glanced at Shang Shao. Seeing him shake his head slightly, she replied, “No need. I need to focus on getting into character. I don’t want to see too many people.”
“Then who are you spending today with? Ke Yu still hasn’t come back, right? And you gave Junyi time off again.”
Ying Yin replied with a perfectly straight face, “A friend.”
The moment the words left her mouth, Shang Shao calmly took the phone from her hand.
He had a naturally striking physique, with long limbs and elegant hands. At that moment, he stretched his arm out to hold the phone far away, while his other hand cupped the back of Ying Yin’s head and kissed her – forceful, commanding, and intense.
Ying Fan was saying something on the other end, but Ying Yin couldn’t hear a word. All her focus went into holding herself tense, trying to make sure no inappropriate sound escaped.
But the faint wet sounds of lips and breath mingling were still suspicious.
Ying Fan asked, “What are you doing?”
Ying Yin held her breath and snatched the phone back.
“…Eating an orange.”
Her breathing was uneven. Afraid Ying Fan would figure it out, she hastily made an excuse and ended the call.
With a dull thud, the phone was tossed onto the dining table by a man’s long-fingered hand.
Outside the window, the moonlight flowed like water. The flickering lights from the building outside briefly illuminated her figure – kissed until she was sprawled backward across the long dining table.
Ying Yin had no doubt that if her body weren’t in no condition for more, both her resolve and his self-control would have completely fallen apart here.
Even though they had only been kissing, she was already dizzy and overwhelmed. The reactions surging through her body were impossible to describe, like waves churning violently inside her. Her slender arms reached back instinctively, wanting to grab a pillow – but there was no pillow here.
Her fingertips accidentally swept over a wine glass filled with red wine.
With a sharp clink, it toppled over and shattered crisply on the floor.
The fragrance of wine spread through the air. Shang Shao’s movements stopped as well. After a long silence, he let out a quiet laugh against her body.
He had completely lost his composure and decorum. He almost didn’t recognize himself.
Hearing the noise, one of the servants outside finally asked cautiously, “Young master?”
Shang Shao answered, “It’s fine,” then straightened up and pulled Ying Yin upright as well.
“Should we let them come in?” he asked softly. “There’s still dessert you haven’t tried, and your favorite mulled wine.”
Still dazed, Ying Yin nodded hazily.
But just before he spoke, she suddenly covered his lips with her hand.
Her hand was soft and delicate, but Shang Shao caught it instead. He pressed a kiss to her palm.
“What is it?”
Ying Yin had to gather quite a bit of courage before asking.
“Mr. Shang… do you actually just like me because I have a good figure?”
Shang Shao frowned slightly. “Why would you ask that?”
His breath was still scorching hot as he admitted, “You do have a great figure. But me liking you has nothing to do with that.”
“Really?” Ying Yin lowered her gaze. “That makes sense. You like girls who are slim and petite, with low body fat…”
Something about where this was going felt very wrong.
Shang Shao hadn’t wanted to talk about this at all, but now his tone turned colder as he asked, “Where did you meet Yu Shasha?”
His sharp tone made Ying Yin flinch. Her voice dropped softer.
“At an audition. I ran into her at Song Shizhang’s company.”
“How did you know it was her? The last time we ran into each other at the summit, I clearly said she was just a classmate.” Shang Shao gently stroked beneath her eyes. “Did I scare you? I just don’t really like talking about her.”
“She recognized me first.” Ying Yin hesitated, then finally spoke, sounding faintly aggrieved as if lodging a complaint. “She came over and said she didn’t expect your taste had changed – that you’d actually like someone like me.”
“…”
Shang Shao froze for a moment.
“She said that?”
“Mhm.” Ying Yin nodded. “Did you tell her about us? …Did you use me to provoke her?”
Ying Yin hadn’t considered this possibility before, but in a flash of realization, it suddenly clicked.
Oh no.
They must still have lingering feelings for each other in private. He had probably taken the initiative to tell Yu Shasha that he was dating a female celebrity now, deliberately trying to make her jealous. And Yu Shasha, while pretending not to care on the surface, had actually been furious with jealousy, so much so that she couldn’t help coming to Ying Yin and making snide, passive-aggressive remarks.
Ying Yin was so immersed in this train of thought that she didn’t notice Shang Shao pinching and rubbing her earlobe until it happened.
She let out a soft “Mm,” and looked up to see the man before her wearing a distinctly displeased expression.
“Ying Yin,” he said, “read fewer novels.”
“…Oh.” She responded obediently.
“So?” he continued. “What else did she say to you?”
“I’m not telling.”
“Why not?”
“You love her so much that even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me. You’d just think I was making things up to frame her.” She had clearly been poisoned by too many melodramatic idol dramas.
Even without her saying it, Shang Shao had already guessed.
“Did she imply that the reason I like you is because you have a good figure?”
Ying Yin felt an irrational stab of jealousy.
“You know her really well.”
Shang Shao looked as if he had heard something amusing. The corner of his lips lifted with faint mockery.
“I don’t understand her well. If anything, after two years together, I never truly understood her at all.”
“She said you two were forced apart.”
Shang Shao nodded.
“That sounds like the kind of lie she’d tell.”
“A lie?”
“Yes. A lie.”
“You two… weren’t separated because your parents forced you apart?” Ying Yin looked utterly confused. “Didn’t you even consider giving up your status as heir and leaving with nothing for her?”
This time, Shang Shao looked even more stunned.
“And who told you that? Very few people know about that.”
Hearing that he didn’t immediately deny it, a wave of overwhelming sadness washed over Ying Yin once again.
She merely blinked, and tears fell with a soft patter.
“It’s true,” she said.
So it really was true.
Deep down, she had still been holding on to a trace of hope. Billions upon billions in unimaginable wealth – what kind of love would be strong enough for someone to give that up? She didn’t want to believe it. She thought it must have been exaggerated, distorted through rumors and hearsay.
But all of that fragile hope shattered in that one question from Shang Shao, like a soap bubble popping with a soft “poof.”
Shang Shao took a deep breath and held her shoulders.
“Let’s finish the dessert first, alright? Don’t cry.”
“Mm.” Ying Yin nodded, wiping her tears with the tip of her fingers. “And I still want mulled wine.”
She was too obedient. Shang Shao’s heart ached for her so much it felt almost unbearable, a restless heat spreading through his entire body.
“It’s okay,” he said. “After we finish eating and drinking, I’ll explain everything to you, alright?”
He pulled her into his arms again, his slightly damp palm brushing her fringe away as he stubbornly looked into her eyes.
“Don’t overthink it. It’s not what you think.”
The kitchen, long left waiting, finally resumed plating the last dessert. The foreign orchestra began playing festive Christmas music, and the servants all let out a quiet sigh of relief – glad their young master had finally gotten what he wanted, and that the night’s perfect atmosphere was not wasted.
They had drunk quite a bit of alcohol that night. By the time the last glass of fruit mulled wine was finished, Ying Yin was already lightly drunk.
She put on a mask – whether to avoid attention or simply to avoid spoiling the mood, it was hard to tell – and suddenly suggested, almost on impulse, “Shall we go shopping?”
“Now?” Shang Shao glanced at his watch. It was just past nine, still lively outside.
“Aren’t you afraid of being recognized?”
Ying Yin adjusted her hair, pulled her mask tighter, and insisted stubbornly, almost willfully. “I won’t be.”
The island breeze was soft and pleasant, carrying a refreshing coolness. Shang Shao accompanied her as they left the car and walked on foot, from Nathan Road to Fa Yuen Street. He walked with her through Mong Kok’s oldest, busiest, and most unremarkable little shops. Neon signs flickered overhead; among the dense buildings stood places like “Golden Palace Hotel” and “Golden Fortune Karaoke,” resembling scenes straight out of old Hong Kong films. At the crosswalk, the repetitive chime for the visually impaired rang continuously; when the tram stopped, it gave a clear “ding-ding” as it picked up new passengers and let others off.
Long tunnels. Rust-streaked pedestrian bridges.
Shang Shao hadn’t walked this far in a long time. Feeling warm, he took off his suit jacket and carried it over one shoulder.
He actually very much wanted to hold her hand, but with so many tourists from mainland China in Hong Kong during the holidays, he shouldn’t risk her career.
Ying Yin bought a bag of goldfish on Goldfish Street. The fish were placed in a transparent oxygenated plastic bag filled with water – a traditional symbol of “abundance year after year.”
On Flower Market Road, she also bought a long bundle of orange tulips, known as “lucky peanuts” (a symbol of good fortune).
She hugged the flowers to cover her face, while carrying the bag of fish in her other hand, looking like someone just finishing work.
“Where do you plan to put these poor fish?” Shang Shao asked with amusement.
Ying Yin’s mind was moving slowly.
“Mm… the sea?”
“They’ll die,” Shang Shao said with a faint smile, glancing at her. His posture was relaxed, almost absent-minded, like someone casually holding a cigarette.
“I do have a fish tank at home. If you don’t mind,” he added, “maybe we can keep them in mine.”
Ying Yin thought to herself that he must have many properties in Hong Kong – maybe even an apartment in every district.
She nodded. “Okay.”
So Shang Shao took the bag of goldfish from her, flagged down a taxi, and said, “To Cape Collinson Qili Hotel.”
Ying Yin sat next to him in the back seat, resting her head on his shoulder. The car window was half open, and the bright, bustling lights and wine-soaked nightlife wind rushed in.
Hong Kong taxis drove fast; the wind noise was loud. Ying Yin leaned close to Shang Shao’s ear.
“Not the one you lived in with her.”
Shang Shao tightened his grip on her hand. “Alright. It’s already been sold.”
When they arrived at Qili Hotel, he took out a car he had stored there and carefully placed Ying Yin’s goldfish and flowers in the back seat.
Ying Yin was so exhausted she couldn’t even keep her eyes open. Half-held, half-supported by him, she was somehow guided into the passenger seat.
“We’re going home,” he said, kissing her ear gently. “Do you want that?”
Ying Yin was too sleepy to think straight. All she wanted was to sleep – what did “want or not want” even matter? In her daze, she leaned up and kissed his lips.
In the quiet underground parking garage, Shang Shao stood outside the car, one hand braced on the passenger seat, leaning in to give her a long, lingering kiss.
“We’re really going home,” he said, covering her eyes with his hand. “Sleep for a bit and we’ll be there.”
Hong Kong was small. Although he had only returned to live there full-time after completing his master’s degree, he was still extremely familiar with the roads. He could drive with his eyes closed and didn’t need navigation.
If he had turned on navigation, Ying Yin would have realized that their destination was “Deep Water Bay.”
The Shang family estate in Deep Water Bay covered 6,000 square meters. As the car drove up from the foot of the mountain toward the peak, it entered layers of strict infrared surveillance.
Because it was nighttime, everything felt even more silent. The dense vegetation looked almost eerie in the dark.
The car followed the winding mountain road, turned a corner, and suddenly the view opened up – below them, the lights of the harbor stretched out in full brilliance, completely filling the horizon.
After passing several security checkpoints, Ying Yin finally began to stir awake.
…Such a huge… complex of buildings?
“Not going to your place? Why are we at a resort?” Ying Yin rubbed her eyes hard, trying to wake herself up. “My pass… my access pass is still in that car.”
The driver’s window was half down. The mountain breeze was gentle. Shang Shao rested one hand on the window edge, the other loosely on the steering wheel. Hearing her words, he couldn’t help but laugh.
“What resort?”
Ying Yin pointed blankly with one finger, still not fully awake. “This resort.”
“Be reasonable,” he said lazily. “This is my home.”
Ying Yin: “?”
Shang Shao glanced at her, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Deep Water Bay. You said it yourself – you were willing to come home with me.”
The last traces of Ying Yin’s foggy consciousness began to kick in.
The Shang family’s main residence was located in Hong Kong’s Deep Water Bay, covering 6,530… the wildly exaggerated numbers from marketing accounts flooded her mind. The mansion-like villa she had once seen captured in long-lens photos gradually overlapped with the structure in front of her.
Her eyes widened. She looked like she was about to bolt out of the car.
“Shang Shao!”
“Mm?” He suppressed his laughter, listening attentively.
“When I said ‘home,’ I meant…”
“My only apartment has already been sold. In Hong Kong, this is my only home.”
“….”
Ying Yin was so shocked that even the alcohol in her system instantly cleared. Every nerve in her body felt like it had lost its grounding.
“My state right now…” she panicked.
Then she suddenly remembered the last time she had briefly met Shang Qingye. He was terrifying – always unsmiling, intimidating in a way that made people afraid to even breathe in his presence. If she went into his territory like this, wouldn’t she be too scared to even lift her head?
And then there were the rumors: the matriarch of the Shang family, Wen Youyi, was extremely refined, elegant, and exacting – so noble and strict that Ying Yin could already imagine a cold, sharp-eyed woman who judged the entire world… She would definitely dislike her.
Lost in her chaotic thoughts, she didn’t even realize the car had already stopped.
“We’re here. Get out.”
“I’m not getting out.” Ying Yin clutched the seatbelt tightly. “I’m going to sleep in the car.”
“….”
“Stop saying nonsense.”
With a click, Shang Shao unfastened her seatbelt.
Ying Yin immediately tugged it back tightly, refusing to let it slip. “I can sleep in the trunk.”
“…”
“I’ll walk down the mountain.”
“It’s ten kilometers downhill.”
Ying Yin opened the door and actually got out.
The building certainly carried an atmosphere of refined, elegant taste, but to her it felt like something pressing heavily on her chest, making even breathing difficult – her small body like an ant under its weight.
She quietly closed the car door and, still mindful of how nervous she was, whispered toward Shang Shao who was still in the car, “Bye…”
Shang Shao: “…”
Still saying bye.
She had only taken a few steps when someone suddenly scooped her up from behind.
Ying Yin was startled, but remembering she couldn’t make a sound, instinctively covered her mouth tightly with both hands.
“They live on the other side,” Shang Shao said casually, in an ordinary speaking voice. “It would take fifteen minutes to walk over.”
He hadn’t come back in a long time, and the staff he was used to were all taken back to Ning City. So this half of the villa complex was empty, with only one servant’s room still occupied for security.
Shang Shao lowered his gaze and gave her a “shh.” Then he carried her up the steps in just a few strides.
He looked like a high school boy secretly bringing his girlfriend home – secretly being intimate, secretly letting her stay over, secretly finding her food – only to be discovered by his parents and forced to confess everything about his forbidden early romance, followed by a harsh beating.
There were so many steps – left turn, three steps; right turn, three steps – then an elevator, then corridors, then one grand hall after another. Ying Yin couldn’t even tell what any of these spaces were called. They weren’t living rooms, studies, reception rooms, or activity rooms – just a maze of vast, unfamiliar spaces that left her dizzy.
She swallowed and, anticipating trouble in advance, tried to act properly reserved.
“I can walk by myself… it wouldn’t look good if someone saw.”
“Are you sober now?”
Ying Yin nodded, trying hard to clear her gaze. Shang Shao set her down, but her legs were weak and she swayed, one hand catching the wall for support. In her haste, she seemed to brush against something – a ceramic piece on a pillar that wobbled.
Shang Shao quickly reached out and steadied it, letting out a small breath of relief.
“120 million.”
Ying Yin: “?”
She looked at the ordinary-looking vase, then at Shang Shao. “How much?”
Shang Shao corrected himself. “Twelve Hong Kong dollars.”
“120 million… 120 million?” Ying Yin looked around in confusion. “You put something worth 120 million just in a hallway?”
“Because it’s prettier, so it’s placed here.”
As he spoke, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Can you walk in a straight line?”
After drinking and being hit by the wind, walking straight was asking a bit much – but faced with a house full of “120-million art-piece assassins,” Ying Yin had no choice but to manage it.
Seeing how tense she was, Shang Shao comforted her, “Only that one is expensive. Everything else is cheap. If you’re unhappy, you can even smash something to hear the sound.”
Ying Yin replied, “Then you might as well cut off my ears.”
Once they entered the bedroom, it actually felt somewhat familiar.
The space was smaller than the one he had in Ning City, but it was still spacious and minimalist – pure white walls blending seamlessly into the floor. The bed sat on a slightly raised platform, neatly made with the corners tucked in by the servants.
He helped Ying Yin sit down on the bed, then knelt slightly in front of her, holding her hand.
“The sheets are clean. They know I come back here occasionally, so they’re changed every three days. Should I take you to shower first?”
“I don’t have anything…”
Shang Shao thought for a moment. “Should I have someone send things over?”
“It’ll get noticed by your mother.”
“True. There aren’t any of my trusted people here.”
“…”
“Then should I drive down and buy them for you?”
He had barely drunk at all, and after walking all evening, the alcohol had long since metabolized. Unlike Ying Yin, who had a low tolerance and kept drinking, getting tipsy far too easily.
Ying Yin nodded. “I need makeup remover, facial cleanser – anything else is fine. And… tampons.”
“Tampons? What kind of tampons?”
Ying Yin’s face turned red. “The kind… you use down there.”
Shang Shao froze for a moment, then coughed lightly as if to cover his reaction, quickly regaining his composure.
“Where do you even buy those?… Forget it, I’ll ask someone.”
He stood up to leave, but after a couple of steps, he turned back.
“Are you fully awake now?”
“More or less.”
“I never intended to leave everything and walk away for her.”
He had waited the entire night to finally say this.
Ying Yin lifted her face and blinked.
“We were on our first date. I didn’t want to ruin the mood by talking about her. After we finished dessert and drank the wine, you got drunk again, and later you’d rather go buy flowers and goldfish…”
“Goldfish!” Ying Yin’s expression changed instantly. She cried out, “They’ll run out of oxygen and die!”
Shang Shao quickly held her back. “I’ll go get them. They won’t die.”
All for that bag of goldfish that barely cost anything, he practically ran.
The servant’s room on duty already had its lights on. Before they could even greet him, they were cut off by his words. “Find me a fish tank.”
In the courtyard, he went through the back entrance and took the flowers and goldfish. Under the moonlight, he looked at them – clear water, orange life, tails gently swaying, gills softly moving.
He let out a quiet breath, the corner of his lips lifting slightly in a faint smile.
To avoid worrying Ying Yin, Shang Shao first brought the fish tank back to her. Only after that did he drive down the mountain to buy the things she needed.
It was quite a task for him to stand in the cosmetics section of a shopping mall, carefully picking out everything on her list one by one. Skincare and sleepwear were easy enough, but tampons were unfamiliar to him. He had to call Lin Cunkang, who then asked his wife, before they finally figured out where to buy them.
In the drugstore, the sales clerk patiently recommended products. He listened with a furrowed brow, comparing instructions and side effects with the seriousness of reviewing a contract.
Under the fluorescent lights, dressed in a shirt and suit trousers, composed and meticulous, his noble elegance only made the clerk quietly blush.
By the time he returned, Ying Yin was already asleep.
She was too considerate – afraid of getting his bed dirty without having showered – so she lay fully clothed on top of the blanket, not even taking off her shoes.
The fish tank was placed beside her arm. The water and glass were so clear they seemed almost invisible, and the golden shadows of the fish occasionally drifted across her peacefully sleeping face.
Shang Shao’s expression softened unconsciously. He looked at her for a while, then first placed the fish tank somewhere safe before pulling her into his arms.
“Ying Yin,” he called softly, kissing the corner of her lips. “Time to wake up and listen to a story.”
Ying Yin woke reluctantly, but seemed even more eager to see his face. She turned her gaze away slightly and nestled against his neck.
“There’s a bedtime story too?”
Too adorable.
If she hadn’t cared so much – and hadn’t been fed all those messy rumors – he wouldn’t have been willing to waste such a precious night on Yu Shasha at all.
Shang Shao curved his lips into a faint smile.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you, but I was worried that if you slept like that, you’d feel unhappy in your dreams.”
In fact, Ying Yin’s dreams had been unhappy – otherwise she wouldn’t have wanted to wake up and see him.
He saw through her, and an unreasonable wave of bitterness rose in her chest. She stubbornly replied, “I was very happy in my dreams.”
“Alright. Then it’s my selfishness – I was afraid that if I didn’t explain things clearly tonight, I wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully myself.”
He carried her out to the terrace, let her sit on his lap, and lit a cigarette.
Straight to the point.
“I never intended to leave everything and go broke for her. I only said that once – on the day we broke up. I said it to force out her real intentions, just some bluffing about giving up inheritance rights and being left with only a few hundred million in assets. As for the inheritance, I need to explain it from the beginning. Do you have the patience to listen?”
Ying Yin nodded, forcing herself to stay alert.
“First… a kiss?” he said, a little too mischievously.
Ying Yin obediently kissed him, only for him to pull her into a deeper kiss.
A faint taste of tobacco lingered between them.
The ember of his cigarette flickered between his fingers, smoke curling in the air. Shang Shao’s eyes held no extra emotion – so calm it felt as if he were merely observing from the outside.
“Yu Shasha’s father wanted to become a legislator, and she herself had political ambitions. I only learned those two things later. I met her in high school – I attended Royal College, she went to a girls’ school. We danced twice at a New Year’s social gathering. The next time we met was at a public charity gala at the University of Hong Kong. To be honest, I don’t really remember her, but she remembered me.”
“We didn’t really have many shared memories. It was just that our academic backgrounds were similar, and our university and master’s programs overlapped, so we got along quite well. She was very talkative, genuinely sincere when interacting with people, sunny in personality, always smiling – very warm and straightforward.”
Ying Yin grew intensely jealous just from these descriptions, until she heard Shang Shao continue:
“All of that… was an act.”
“She even fooled you?” she asked in surprise.
“If she wanted to, she could fool the entire world. Among everyone I know, almost no one dislikes her. She’s especially good at dealing with elite social circles – many well-known British actors are her close friends. She was also passionate about public welfare and charity work, and even gave up a position at a major British conglomerate to come to Hong Kong and do basic legal aid work for me.”
“She gave up so much for you,” Ying Yin said, unable to tell what she was feeling.
Shang Shao gave a faint, self-mocking smile.
“At first, I thought the same. Only later did I realize it was all just political capital for her future. The only person in the world who never liked her was my father, Shang Qingye – you’ve met him before.”
“Mm,” Ying Yin added, “he was very scary.”
Shang Shao pinched her finger lightly.
“Don’t be afraid. He just looks stern – he’s actually quite rigid and traditional. Before I even brought Yu Shasha home, he was already against the relationship.”
“Why?”
“Because of identity.” Shang Shao lowered his gaze, lightly tapping the cigarette holder with his fingertip. “The Shang family has been politically clean for five generations. When my grandfather passed away, state officials draped the coffin in a red flag. Many of our businesses are closely tied to the country. But Yu Shasha’s father is a consul at the British embassy. You also know how sensitive UK–Hong Kong relations are. So my father opposed it.”
“But… that’s unfair to both her and you,” Ying Yin said, swallowing her discomfort and speaking up for him.
“So I fought for it,” Shang Shao said flatly.
“What you heard about ‘giving up everything and going broke’ was just a rumorized version of those efforts. After my father had dinner with us for the first time, he told my mother that the girl was very good at lying – especially at pretending sincerity.”
He paused for a moment, then let out a faint, relieved, self-deprecating laugh.
“To be honest, I’ve never really accepted my father’s control over me. But I have to admit – his judgment is sharp. He sees straight to the point.”
“Only he saw through it?”
“Only he saw through it.”
“Then you must have argued every day.”
“Yes. So much that my siblings would avoid going home altogether, wishing they never had to return. So much that my mother lived in constant anxiety and couldn’t sleep peacefully at night. With every argument, the anger escalated. By the end, things were completely at daggers drawn. I had already prepared myself to lose my inheritance rights.”
“You were really willing to give it up.” Ying Yin didn’t know whether her heart ached for him or for herself.
Tears threatened to fall again.
“I really was willing – but not for her,” Shang Shao said firmly.
“Giving up inheritance rights and leaving with nothing are two different things. The company’s shares, family trusts, and all kinds of miscellaneous assets wouldn’t disappear just because I gave up inheritance rights. It’s probably worth over a hundred billion – I don’t even know the exact amount. Inheritance rights mean responsibility for the group and the family. As the eldest son, I was supposed to bear that responsibility in the first place. But Ying Yin – no one ever asked me whether I was willing.”
“You weren’t willing?” Ying Yin couldn’t understand. “But being the heir of the Shang family… that’s something others would dream their whole lives for and still never get.”
“Mm.” Shang Shao exhaled a stream of smoke and lifted his gaze slightly to look at her. “I really was born quite well. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gotten you either.”
His words of affection came casually, almost offhand, carrying a calm, matter-of-fact sense of fate.
Ying Yin knew that at a moment like this, he would definitely want to kiss her. She obediently closed her eyes in advance. His presence overwhelmed her completely, and with that sentence, her knees nearly weakened.
Only after he had kissed her enough did he finally feel like continuing his story.
“Of course inheritance comes with a great deal of money, but it also comes with an immense amount of responsibility. I was raised from childhood to be an heir. My only happiness was spending one hour a day with my pony – just one hour a day.
The life you see me living now is one of endless official duties, no holidays, three hundred flights a year. And I would have to live like this until I’m sixty-five. If it were you, would you want it?”
Ying Yin instinctively shook her head.
His arm around her waist tightened slightly as he looked into her eyes.
“Baby, when money reaches a certain level, it’s just numbers. It’s very hard for it to bring any real emotional fluctuation or pleasure. There’s essentially no material difference between living with tens of billions and hundreds of billions. Why does Edward buy superyachts or use whale leather? Because beyond that, he has no other way to display his wealth. Wealth is a foolish shell – it makes people lose both morality and wisdom.”
In a sudden moment, Ying Yin remembered what he had once called “the other half” of his failed rebellion.
“You said there were two rebellious things in your life…”
“Yes, this is one of them,” Shang Shao said, cigarette between his lips, recalling it with some displeasure.
“At the time, Shang Qingye’s authoritarian control, and everything that had been pressed on me for over thirty years, made me disgusted with the so-called ‘inheritance’ to the extreme. From the age of twenty, before I even graduated, I was already involved in managing the group. More than ten years of effort – I won’t pretend I had no attachment – but a man must know when to cut things off. I could establish my own path and live the life I wanted.”
Shang Shao finished speaking in a casual tone, paused for a moment, and then asked on a whim, “Do you want me to give up the inheritance rights?”
Ying Yin was so shocked she nearly froze. A switch controlling hundreds of billions of wealth had just been placed in her hands with a single question. She didn’t even dare move.
“I still have this freedom before I turn thirty-eight,” he said with a faint, ambiguous smile, as if reminding her to seize the opportunity. “After thirty-eight, I can’t anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because training an heir takes time. A gap in succession is a major taboo for a family legacy. If I remain in this position beyond thirty-eight, then I will bear responsibility for the entire group, whether I like it or not. From now until then, if I step down, Shang Qingye can still hold things together. We can also cultivate someone else – for example, let my sister Mingxian take over, and then bring Shang Lu back.”
“…”
Ying Yin’s expression was a mix of shock, hesitation, and a very obvious “is this really okay?” – which made it all rather amusing.
Shang Shao couldn’t help but laugh.
He negotiated it with her gently, almost jokingly:
“Lulu’s dream is to make films. She’s already filmed enough – it’s time for me to go and fulfill my own dream, don’t you think?”
No one had ever asked him what his dream was.
He had said something similar to Yu Shasha back then as well, but she only cried and felt indignant on his behalf, asking him how he could bear to throw away more than a decade of hard work and simply hand it over to someone else.
She had never once asked him: Ah Shao, what is your dream?
“…Then, Brother Ah-Shao,” Ying Yin called him softly.
It was the first time she had addressed him like that so clearly, face to face. Her ears turned slightly red, which only made him want to kiss her.
He leaned in, the scent of agarwood and tobacco on his breath, kissed the small mole on her earlobe, and asked in a low, hoarse voice, “Mm?”
“What is your dream?” Ying Yin looked at him with bright, expectant eyes. “You already have so much money, and you can still have a dream – your dream must be something incredible.”
It was the first time anyone had ever said that having a dream made him “incredible.”
For the wealthy, what dreams were there to speak of? When everything in the world was already within reach, talking about dreams almost felt pretentious.
Shang Shao suppressed his smile, softened by her words deep inside.
He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.
“It’s nothing that great,” he said. “It’s just that I’ve kept a sailboat at La Base France. I bought it for myself when I was twenty. My dream is to sail it around the world.”
