Chapter 23

Spin, chant, stab with the sword.

Shake the bell, perform the ritual, bounce freely on the bed.

"Heaven and earth are natural, mighty spirits of the eight directions! Ahhh... rain! Ahhh... wealth!"

The two people on the bed woke up instantly!

Shen Qinghuai felt as if he were sleeping on a trampoline. As he bounced up and down, he quickly met the eyes behind the fish mouth.

His heart skipped a beat, and his hand clenched the blanket.

Then a powerful force yanked his shoulder, and someone screamed miserably in his ear, "What is that?! A-Huai! A-Huai, don't be afraid!!!"

This thunderclap of a scream was even deadlier than the fish doing a spicy dance. Shen Qinghuai's ears began to ring, and he suspected he had gone deaf.

"Shut... up..."

He forced out the words, catching sight from the corner of his eye of an entire row of glowing bird beaks.

A huge sheet of colored paper was crammed with dozens of long-beaked birdmen. Their beaks had been specially given a reflective finish, flowing with dazzling holographic colors.

Every time the ugly fish bounced and shook the bed, the holographic light flashed across the bird beaks again.

Dousing someone's head in public—why couldn't that public be birdmen?

"Fuck." Shen Qinghuai cursed.

"What is that?!"

Shi Bochuan kept his eyes away from the ugly fish writhing and dancing wildly on the bed, then cautiously asked, "A-Huai, were you... were you cursing me?"

"Get off me!"

Shen Qinghuai shoved his head away, rolled out of bed, and swiftly grabbed the back of the ugly fish's head as it faced away from him, clutching its pajama hood.

"Shi Jihan!" He seized the hood and shook it frantically. "Was it you? Was it you??"

With a slap, a talisman was pasted onto his forehead.

"By the law, disperse!"

Shen Qinghuai froze in place, his eyes fixed on the talisman swaying before his forehead.

Killing intent slowly gathered in his eyes.

Old grudges, new ones.

"Rain! Wealth! Money from every direction!"

Shi Jihan had been seized by the collar of fate. Half-bent over and kneeling backward on the large bed, he threw his arms open to embrace the world.

"Chinese red rain!"

Bang!

The smoke alarm above the bedroom suddenly sprayed out a burst of mist, then, like a whipped donkey, began spinning in circles with a hiss, spraying everywhere.

The whole room filled with the scent of red wine.

Shi Bochuan was startled again out of nowhere. He sucked in a cold breath, clutched his heart, and leaned against the headboard.

Bang bang bang!

The party poppers by the bed went off, instantly spraying countless U.S. dollars that fluttered down across the bed.

The half-breath Shi Bochuan had sucked in got stuck in his throat.

Confetti and red wine burst forth together, dollar bills raining from the sky.

The beautiful scene was the romance Shi Jihan had carefully arranged.

The money came out of Shi Bochuan's account.

Wait, the mission still wasn't complete?

He ordered 000, [Turn it up!]

With a hiss, the alarm squeezed hard, accurately dumping a stream of red wine over Shen Qinghuai's head. A localized downpour soaked half his hair.

000 panicked. [T-too much!]

Shen Qinghuai peeled off the talisman, then slowly, slowly swept all his wet hair back, revealing those eyes brimming with murderous intent.

The cool, aloof beauty had gone completely dark.

[Ding, mission "Pour red wine over Shen Qinghuai's head in public and destroy his beliefs" complete. Reward: Malice Points +23]

Shi Jihan cursed 000 for dropping the ball. Backing away, he said in a trembling voice, "Happy anniversary! Today is the 574th day of your marriage. Every day after getting married is worth celebrating. I helped you celebrate this holiday today. Are you happy? Are you blissful? Isn't it ceremonial enough?"

Shen Qinghuai began rummaging through the bedside table.

"W-what are you looking for?"

"My telescopic self-defense baton."

Shi Jihan shouted, "Help!"

His pajama hood was still tightly clutched in Shen Qinghuai's hand. He yanked down the zipper with a swish and was spat out from the bottom of the pajamas, without even having time to put on shoes.

His socked feet slipped on the floor as he flailed twice, then spun around and bolted for the door!

Shen Qinghuai shouted after him, "Shi Jihan, stop!"

The two charged out of the bedroom one after the other, launching into a fierce chase.

The camera moved again.

The bodyguard asked, "What are they doing this time?"

His companion replied, "Morning exercise, probably. Third Young Master and Mr. Shen really know how to stay healthy."

The bodyguard gave him a thumbs-up. "No wonder you got promoted."

What a silver tongue. He could gild anything the bosses did. Even if the boss farted, he could interpret it as a weather forecast for strong local winds.

Half an hour later.

Shi Jihan, his head covered in bumps, sat curled up miserably on a tiny stool in the bathroom, laboriously scrubbing the bedsheets.

Shen Qinghuai stood at the doorway with his arms crossed, having regained his usual image as a cool, aloof designer.

—If one ignored the red wine still dripping from the ends of his hair.

He stared at Shi Jihan, who was performing voluntary labor, and warned, "No washing machine. No food until they're clean. Scrub out every wine stain you made."

You, the protagonist bottom who had suffered so much bullying—how dared you climb onto the head of a notorious vicious cannon fodder villain?

Shen Qinghuai threatened, "Hmm?"

"Okay, Brother Huai, I guarantee I'll finish!" Shi Jihan flashed a brilliant eight-toothed smile.

Shen Qinghuai went to shower.

The moment he left, Shi Jihan's expression changed.

His hands, covered in foam, viciously threw a set of military boxing moves into the air, forcibly squeezing in another round of exercise.

Why did a designer who sat in an office all day have five more abs than him? Was that reasonable?!

Out of strength, he collapsed onto the little stool and questioned 000. [Didn't you say this red wine could decompose on its own when I exchanged for it? Why hasn't any of it come off after all this scrubbing?]

[Ding, detected that the host needs to exchange for red wine dissolving solution. Price: 1.2 Malice Points. Would you like to exchange?]

Fuck, what a crooked merchant.

A complete red wine sales and after-sales service package.

Other people were iron roosters. Shi Jihan was a sugar rooster. Forget plucking feathers from a passing goose—he would be lucky if he didn't get a layer of fuzz stuck to the system. He absolutely would not spend that money!

He scrubbed for another ten minutes.

[...Exchange.]

By the time he restored Shi Bochuan and Shen Qinghuai's bedroom to its original state, Shi Jihan was exhausted. He slept like the dead all afternoon, deliberately skipped lunch, and waited to feast at the newcomer welcome party that evening.

He swore he would eat that married couple into bankruptcy!

000 reminded him, [Host, some of this is your money too. Don't forget that your shares are still in your eldest brother's hands.]

Shi Jihan suddenly understood. [Once my eldest brother kicks the bucket, all the property will be mine. That means everything they're using now is my money!]

[? It seems you still have your second brother, Shi Zhongye, as an heir?]

[Oh, then once they both kick the bucket,] Shi Jihan waggled two fingers, [I'll inherit twice the property and sleep with male models all over the world.]

Far away in the depths of a mountain forest, Shi Zhongye, who was directing a production, sneezed violently.

"Fuck, which actor is cursing me again?"

He vigorously waved the mosquitoes away. "Damn mosquitoes, just suck some fat. How dare you suck my blood?" He lowered his head and stared at the bottle of floral water with only a little left for a long time. Thinking of how he could not replenish supplies at the village below the mountain for another week, Shi Zhongye lightly pressed the nozzle.

He sprayed it under his nose so he could smell it himself.

The newcomer welcome party was held at an upscale Western restaurant. Shi Bochuan booked the entire place and let everyone eat whatever they wanted—a made-to-order buffet, with him picking up the bill at the end.

The welcome party was held once every six months, celebrating the management trainees from the spring and autumn recruitment cycles officially joining Shi Group after completing their rotations.

Everyone was outstanding in their respective fields, with impressive work and solid ability.

Except for Zhou Zeyang, that slacker.

Even after being exposed as not actually being a company employee, he still shamelessly stuck around.

Full of enthusiasm, he found his direction in life. "Xiaohan, I feel like I belong here. I want to produce more marketing proposals."

Shi Jihan had no time for him. He hurriedly stuffed an entire caramel peanut pancake into his mouth and nodded perfunctorily. In reality, Zhou Zeyang's words whooshed across his smooth cerebral cortex without leaving the slightest trace.

Shen Qinghuai noticed instead. Smiling, he chatted with Zhou Zeyang about how he had been lately, then glanced down and asked, "What happened to the claw marks on your neck?"

"I got scratched while trimming my dog's nails." Zhou Zeyang made a pained face. "Brother Huai, you have no idea. My brother keeps a Beagle, and it's way too rowdy."

Shen Qinghuai looked thoughtful. "My family has a Beagle too. It's quite rowdy."

Shi Jihan, his mouth stuffed full of mousse again, turned his head in confusion. Huh? We have a dog?

Zhou Zeyang instantly felt he had found his people and grew deeply affectionate. He gulped down quite a bit of wine with Shen Qinghuai, the topic revolving around how his inhuman brother had tortured him from childhood to adulthood.

Shi Jihan caught part of it and marveled at how high Zhou Zeyang's official rank was in the Zhou Family.

That included, but was not limited to, serving as Zhou Jingcheng's chief housekeeper, minister of fiscal deficit, and academic consultant for ghostwriting homework.

He summed it up, "Zhou Jingcheng really is a dog."

No wonder the original owner had found Zhou Jingcheng unpleasant in every possible way and called him a mad dog. It seemed he had suffered plenty too.

"He's an absolute dog!" Zhou Zeyang gained another listener and began chattering away, dragging Shi Jihan into listening.

Shi Jihan opened several bottles of wine to keep him company. The two went back and forth, enthusiastically gossiping about someone who was not present.

The more Zhou Zeyang talked, the more worked up he got. "A few years ago, a subordinate confessed to him, and he actually said, 'Don't pull this on me just to avoid next quarter's targets.' The guy said he sincerely wanted to ask him to the movies, but he turned around and asked my dad whether that counted as overtime, then demanded overtime pay from him."

As Shi Jihan listened, he started laughing once he imagined Zhou Jingcheng's tone and expression. After laughing enough, he asked, "So did they go see a movie?"

"Is that the point?" Zhou Zeyang waved his hand. "They didn't. The guy was furious. Not only did they not go, no one was willing to confess to him after that. That subordinate even hung pomelo leaves for several weeks to ward off bad luck."