Chapter 71

Qi Xu had originally planned to sneak out after putting Shen Ziyang to sleep. Instead, he accidentally knocked himself out first—dozing off even earlier than the kid.

Xie Huai waited in the living room for about half an hour. Once the bedtime story sounds faded, he pushed open the door. Inside, the big one and the small one had completely reversed roles.

Shen Ziyang lay wide awake on the bed, those big blue eyes blinking as he played happily with his plushies.

Qi Xu, on the other hand, was sound asleep, still holding the storybook in his hand. The blanket had slid down to his stomach.

Shen Ziyang noticed Xie Huai coming in and, thinking he was there to sleep, scooted over considerately to make room.

But Xie Huai didn’t even glance at the kid. He leaned down, pulled the blanket up over Qi Xu’s waist, gently touched his cheek, and then circled around to the other side of the bed.

“Can you fall asleep now?” he asked.

It was already bedtime for Shen Ziyang. He let out a big yawn, snuggled A-Bei-Bei, and nodded.

Xie Huai turned off the main light, leaving only a small bedside lamp. Just before closing his eyes, Shen Ziyang saw the tall gege bend down toward his brother’s side of the bed.

Whatever happened next, he didn’t see. The room went dark.

Qi Xu didn’t wake up until noon the next day. By then, the little one was already gone from the bed.

After washing up, he stepped out of the bedroom and spotted Shen Ziyang and Xie Huai in the living room. Surprisingly, they were getting along.

Shen Ziyang was holding a talking picture book—ah, learning Mandarin.

Great. It’s never too early to start language training.

Xie Huai was wearing headphones, deep in a video meeting. Qi Xu didn’t disturb him and wandered into the kitchen in search of food.

It was the weekend, so the housekeeper had come over. She was doing the dishes, and when she saw him, she served up lunch.

Qi Xu ate while checking messages. Most of them came from his work group chat.

Yun Rui had just finalized a deal at the Huaxin pitch meeting with a publicly listed company. Su Kehao and Zhong Aiming had gone to sign the contract—and ended up half-drunk that night—but at least the paperwork got done.

The group was buzzing about it, and Qi Xu sent a quick “thanks for your hard work” along with an offer to treat them to a meal.

Of course, Li Kaixing immediately started listing restaurants where the average cost per person was in the four-digit range—clearly planning to fleece him.

Some things never changed. Li Kaixing had been like this in both lifetimes.

As the chat grew lively, Zhong Aiming messaged Qi Xu privately and sent him a file.

Qi Xu opened it. It was a shareholder transfer agreement, and at the bottom was Shen Zhuohai’s signature.

Paired with what Shen Fengkai had said to him yesterday, everything finally clicked into place.

So this was what the Shen family had been angling for all along.

In his past life, Shen Zhuohai had always wanted Shen Zeyu to join the Shen Group right after graduation. But instead, Shen Zeyu went abroad with Xie Huai for further studies. To appease Qi Xu, Zhuohai gave him a low-level position, and then—pressured by the board—had no choice but to promote him.

This time around, Zhuohai got what he wanted: Shen Zeyu entered the company early.

As for what Shen Fengkai said to him the other day, Qi Xu didn’t take a single word of it seriously. And this time, he had no intention of getting involved with the Shen Group—not even a little.

Qi Xu was lost in thought, chopsticks still in hand but unmoving for a long time. Xie Huai, wrapping up his video call, said “one moment” in English, stood up, and walked over to the dining table—unsurprisingly catching sight of the document in Qi Xu’s hands.

Two days ago, his own people had already reported this matter. Xie Huai hadn’t mentioned it, simply because he figured Qi Xu might not want to know. But now, it was obvious someone wanted him to.

Qi Xu noticed his shadow from the corner of his eye and sighed. “The old man had someone send it to me. I already told Shen Fengkai very clearly that I have no interest in the Shen Group. After that, he kept bringing up the shares here and there—I figured he was trying to test the waters. I dodged the topic every time.”

Now, with Zhuohai sending this document through Zhong Aiming, it was obviously meant to lay the groundwork for a transfer of shares.

As soon as the words left his mouth, another file came through—this time, it was for the full transfer of all the shares in Zhuohai’s possession.

Each member of the Shen family was given a portion of shares when they came of age, but the percentage was small—enough to receive dividends, but with no real decision-making power.

Currently, Shen Zeyu held a third of Zhuohai’s shares—not exactly controlling interest. Clearly, Zhuohai wanted Shen Zeyu’s position in the company to be legitimized.

Qi Xu didn’t care about Shen Zeyu. Zhuohai could give him everything he owned, and Qi Xu still wouldn’t spare him a glance. But this—this was different. It concerned the old man himself.

He wanted Qi Xu to take over the Shen Group. Skipping over Shen Fengkai, he intended to hand over the entire company to him.

Xie Huai smoothly took the phone from Qi Xu’s hand, placed it face down on the table, and leaned one arm over the back of his chair. “Eat first.”

Qi Xu had barely touched his lunch. He looked up at Xie Huai—this guy was probably the only one who still cared whether he ate properly or not.

“You’re really not going to offer me any advice on, say, half the Shen Group’s shares?”

To Xie Huai, it didn’t matter how much money was involved. Nothing was more important than Qi Xu’s lunch. If Qi Xu weren’t so hopeless at waking up for breakfast, he’d be making sure he ate that too.

Of course, he had tried to wake him up once or twice—only to be pulled back into bed and forced to sleep in.

Ever since then, the emperor has not gone to court.

“If you really want my opinion…” Xie Huai said, deadpan. “I’m worth more than that.”

Qi Xu stared at him. “…Excuse me? Are you flexing on me?”

Xie Huai shoved the chopsticks into his hand. “Feeding me is more valuable than taking over the Shen Group. The return on investment? Immeasurable.”

Qi Xu stabbed a strawberry and popped it into Xie Huai’s mouth. Xie Huai took it without blinking, already immune to the sourness.

“President Xie, weren’t you the one who said your startup budget didn’t even cover a house? What exactly are you offering?”

Qi Xu had never let him live that down. Every so often, he’d bring up how Xie Huai—young master of the Xie family—had once claimed to be broke and renting an apartment like some tragic drama character.

Xie Huai stuck to the bit. “Think of it as a long-term investment. Give me a home now, and by the end of the year, I’ll give you impressive returns.”

If you asked the 28-year-old version of Qi Xu, yeah—investing in Xie Huai probably was a better deal than running Shen Group.

Still, as a responsible investor, Qi Xu rejected the hype and asked, “And what exactly is your value right now?”

Xie Huai smirked. “Bed warmer.”

“…”

Xie Huai, seeing that Qi Xu didn’t respond, continued his pitch—sounding suspiciously like a top-tier salesman:
“I come with other features too. But if you want a trial, you’ll have to pay a deposit.”

Qi Xu tilted his head up and asked, amused, “And how do I pay that?”

Xie Huai leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth, adding a cheeky sound effect:
“Deposit received.”

Qi Xu couldn’t help but laugh. He reached up, wrapped an arm around Xie Huai’s neck, and deepened the kiss—sweet and lingering, a shared taste of strawberries.

Just as Xie Huai was about to lift him into his arms, Qi Xu pushed at his chest and breathlessly reminded, “Kid’s still here.”

They separated. Qi Xu immediately glanced toward the living room—and sure enough, at some point, Shen Ziyang had wandered over to Xie Huai’s laptop and was now greeting the person on the video call in fluent English.

On Sunday, Qi Xu brought Shen Ziyang back to the Shen family estate. He planned to speak with the old man face to face about the issue.

Old Master Shen had expected this. After all, Qi Xu never responded to the share transfer document.

Uncle Li, aware they needed privacy, took Shen Ziyang to the front courtyard and quietly dismissed everyone else from the living room.

The old man sat at the tea table, just like the first time Qi Xu ever visited the estate.

Qi Xu sat down across from him and began making tea—his movements practiced, deliberate. Brew, steep, pour. Though it had been a while, his mindset was unchanged. He remained unswayed by profit or pressure, untouched by the chaos of the outside world. That clarity had long become a part of him.

The old man saw it clearly: this grandson of his had a powerful core, and his execution was second to none. In under half a year, Yunrui had exploded onto the scene with stunning momentum. Its future was promising.

That knowledge brought him comfort. The Shen family did have a successor.

But… Qi Xu clearly had no intention of taking over.

Qi Xu handed him a cup. “Grandpa. Have some tea.”

The young man in front of him had changed since six months ago. He seemed more grounded, more at ease speaking with his old grandfather on equal footing.

“I know you don’t want to inherit the Shen Group. To be more accurate, the Shen family means nothing to you. And lately, I’ve been wondering… Maybe I was wrong to use this as a way to bind you here.”
For the first time, regret surfaced on the old man’s weathered, storm-worn face.
“If you had left the Shen family, maybe your world would’ve been even broader.”

He sighed silently. He had severed Qi Xu’s ties to his parents and moved his household registration to the Shen family.
But wasn’t that also a way of trapping him?

Qi Xu answered honestly, “You didn’t trap me. I chose to stay by your side. The Shen family isn’t a cage for me anymore—it can’t hold me. So there’s no need for you to feel guilty. To me… you’re my only family.”

The old man was visibly moved. At the same time, the word only made him ache.

He had cursed Shen Zhuohai a thousand times, and it still wasn’t enough to vent his rage.

“If you don’t want the shares, I won’t force you to sign anything. If you don’t want the Shen Group, that’s fine too. But these things… I still want you to have them.”

As he spoke, he handed over another file.

Qi Xu took it, scanned the first line—and couldn’t help but laugh helplessly.
“Grandpa, this is all your real estate and liquid assets. I really can’t accept this.”

Included in it was ownership transfer of the Shen family estate, to be moved under his name.

“Why shouldn’t you take it? I’ve set aside enough for my own funeral expenses—that’s more than enough. Everything else is just sitting there, better off in your hands,” said the old master of the Shen family, his voice seasoned with years of negotiation experience. “Think of it as me investing in Yunrui. If a company’s cash flow hits a snag, operations can grind to a halt. Instead of letting others finance it and risk a takeover, I’d rather buy in myself.”

The old man was as sharp as ever. Yunrui was steadily growing, but once its capital chain got strained, it could easily fall prey to aggressive investors. That fear haunted every founder. Still, Qi Xu declined.

“You’ve already helped me so much—the Huaxin invitation was your doing, and the Tuo Xin fund was deposited into my account because of you. I still have money on hand,” he added, trying to reassure the old man, “If I run out, I’ll come to you.”

The old man snorted, clearly not buying it. “You little brat, don’t try to fool me. As if I’d believe that. I give you an invitation, and you turn around and buy me tea cakes worth hundreds of thousands. You still feel like you owe me, and now you’re trying to pay it back.”

Qi Xu lowered his head and took a sip of tea, guilt creeping into his expression.

Because it was true. He couldn’t accept everything from the old man with a clear conscience.

The old man coughed lightly and pressed on. “Fine, don’t take the money. But the old house will be transferred to your name.”

Qi Xu put down his cup. “The old house is no use to me. I can’t pass it down.”

He paused, then said each word slowly and deliberately: “The person I love is a man.”

The old man had already gone through the chaos when other Shen family members made a fuss about his grandson’s orientation—it had been a public mess. Now, he accepted the truth calmly.

He even offered a rare compliment: “Good. At least you’re clear about who you are.”

Qi Xu: “…”

Then he heard the old man continue: “The Shen estate isn’t a throne. It doesn’t need to be passed down. If things don’t work out for you out there, you’ll still have a roof over your head.”

“I don’t think it’ll get that bad,” Qi Xu said with confidence. “My partner is someone with a very bright future.”

If both of them happened to fail in business, they could just move back into the Shen house—one person in each wing, living like neighbors. Sneak into each other’s rooms at night, that kind of thing.

The old man scoffed and scolded, “Depending on someone else is never as good as depending on yourself. You’re still young—head over heels in love. Right now, everything about him seems great to you. Love is blind. But whether he’s actually successful or not isn’t up to you, is it? No one knows what the future holds.”

Qi Xu nodded in agreement, then said, “His name is Xie Huai.”

The old man cupped a hand behind his ear. “What Huai?”

“Xie Huai,” Qi Xu repeated.

The old man froze like a statue, silent for a long moment. Finally, he said in disbelief, “Never thought I’d live to see the day I became in-laws with that old bastard Xie.”

Then he frowned. “Wait a minute—does that mean I have to share my tea cakes with him?!”

Qi Xu: “…”