Sickly Bigshot CH 11 Professional Homewrecker
Translated by The BL Muse (ko-fi)
The moment Zheng Qi saw that expression, his left eyelid started twitching violently! Before he could stop him, Shi Zhou’s eyes had already welled up with tears, his voice trembling:
"Ah Qi, I’m leaving. You should cherish the person in front of you, don’t always think about what you can’t have..."
He deliberately emphasized the words "can’t have," then let a single crystalline tear roll down his left cheek, dampening his long lashes and fair skin. Shi Zhou paused perfectly, choking up before continuing:
"Duan Nian is a good person. You should live honestly from now on. Besides me, you should also cut ties with those six or seven others outside. It’s dirty—what if you bring back some disease and hurt Duan Nian? And you have to be gentle. You can’t just go in unprepared... it hurts so much."
Zheng Qi looked like he’d been struck by lightning, his mouth half-open, eyes bulging. Watching Shi Zhou’s crocodile tears flow on command, blood rushed from his feet straight to the top of his head!
Song Duannian, raised in a scholarly family with strict manners, had been carefully brewing tea to serve the guests despite the awkward atmosphere. Hearing Shi Zhou’s words, his hands slipped, sending the tray crashing to the floor. Porcelain and tea splattered everywhere with a piercing shatter.
Qin Yancheng, sitting on the sofa, turned to watch the two of them, the corner of his mouth curling with faint amusement.
Zheng Qi snapped out of his daze, trembling with rage. "Shi Zhou!! When did I ever 'just go in unprepared'?! Wait—no—when the fuck did I ever touch you?!"
Shi Zhou knew silence was golden at this moment. Sure enough, Song Duannian erupted. "Zheng Qi! You kept telling me there was nothing between you two! He lived here for so long—were you a monk?! How could you not have touched him?!"
"Duan Nian, believe me! I never fucking touched him! God damn it, Shi Zhou, you better explain yourself clearly!"
Shi Zhou blinked innocently. Oh, you definitely didn’t touch the cannon fodder stand-in—because you had plenty of skilled bed partners outside, even bringing them home to play in front of the original host.
Song Duannian demanded, "Then why were you keeping him around? Charity?! Or just for display?!"
Song Duannian was naturally the gentle and fragile type. Whatever lies Zheng Qi had fed him to smooth things over before, this sudden, crude performance orchestrated by Shi Zhou was too much for his delicate sensibilities. Humiliated and furious, he trembled with sobs, barely able to stand.
Shi Zhou felt a twinge of pity, but better a sharp pain now than a long agony. Better he see the scumbag’s true nature early.
Suddenly, Song Duannian seemed to recall the scene of the three of them that day and had an epiphany, murmuring as if enlightened, "I get it now... I get it! I believe you didn’t touch him, Zheng Qi. You really were keeping him for display. So—"
"Whose stand-in was he, really?"
The word "stand-in" dropped like a bomb. Zheng Qi’s brain short-circuited with a deafening buzz!
He hadn’t expected Song Duannian to remember his earlier slip of the tongue, much less bring it up now. He instinctively looked at Qin Yancheng in terror, only to find him still calm, the corners of his lips curled in a mocking smile, his gaze icy as a dagger—as if watching some fool dig his own grave.
Zheng Qi’s heart lurched. He roared, "Song Duannian, shut the fuck up!"
Then, in a fit of rage, he raised his hand and slapped Song Duannian hard across the face!
A crisp “smack” echoed through the room.
Song Duannian staggered from the unexpected blow, collapsing onto the floor. His hand landed on broken porcelain, blood immediately staining the white marble tiles.
He stared blankly, as if unable to process what had just happened—or unable to believe Zheng Qi had actually hit him.
Shi Zhou was stunned too.
If not for Qin Yancheng’s presence ensuring Zheng Qi wouldn’t dare lay a hand on Shi Zhou, that slap would’ve been his.
—What else can this scumbag do besides domestic violence? Later, he’ll escalate to illegal threats, imprisonment, kidnapping—is that all he’s capable of? Even if he later performs some grand repentance act—kneeling, begging, self-harm—does that erase the damage?
Qin Yancheng cleared his throat pointedly, "Shi Zhou, time to go."
Shi Zhou snapped out of his daze. He wanted to help Song Duannian up, but given the latter’s sensitive pride, pity from someone in Shi Zhou’s awkward position would only feel like further humiliation.
Shi Zhou hardened his heart. Fine, if I’m the villain, I’ll play the role to the hilt. Let’s burn this bridge today and make sure this bastard dies alone!
Unfortunately, Zheng Qi was now hyper-alert to Shi Zhou’s words. The moment Shi Zhou cleared his throat, "Ah Qi, you—"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" Zheng Qi roared on the verge of mental collapse, cutting him off in a fury.
So Shi Zhou grabbed two giant suitcases, "burst into tears," and dramatically fled—
Only to get stuck in the doorway for a second, almost laughing and ruining the act.
Qin Yancheng followed. Before stepping out, he gave Zheng Qi one last inscrutable look, making the latter shudder like a quail, not daring to meet his eyes.
In the car, Shi Zhou sniffled, "Got any tissues?"
Qin Yancheng glanced at him. Shi Zhou’s big eyes blinked, red-rimmed and still misty with tears, his fair cheeks flushed. The sight seemed to trigger some unpleasant memory for Qin Yancheng—his grip on the steering wheel tightened abruptly.
Silently, he handed over a tissue box. Shi Zhou stared out the window, roughly yanking out a few sheets to wipe his tears before slamming his fist on the center console in frustration.
"Fuck! I’m so pissed! It’s like that saying—you can’t save someone hell-bent on destruction. What kind of trash did he stumble into? Worst luck ever!"
He wasn’t talking about himself but Song Duannian. Who knew how their mess would play out now? Given this was a toxic melodrama, even more jaw-dropping, illegal antics were surely coming.
His tone and demeanor were a stark contrast to his current appearance—laced with a roguish, devil-may-care attitude. Qin Yancheng’s lips pressed together, as if seeing Shi Zhou in a new light. Amused, he said mildly, "Good advice can’t save the damned, and great compassion can’t redeem the self-destructive."
Shi Zhou sighed in agreement—then suddenly felt Qin Yancheng wasn’t just talking about Song Duannian, but hinting at something else.
But he didn’t dwell on it, instead turning his thoughts to practical matters: now that he had his ID, should he rent a place or use his remaining savings for a cheap apartment down payment?
After a brief silence, Qin Yancheng suddenly asked, "How much did Zheng Qi pay you monthly?"
Shi Zhou bounced back quickly, seizing the chance to tease, "Why? Beauty, are you offering to keep me?"
To his shock, Qin Yancheng actually replied with a faint "Mnn."
Shi Zhou: ???
Earlier, he’d deliberately clung to Qin Yancheng’s coattails for safety under the guise of being the "possible Mrs. Qin," but he’d never planned to stick around long-term.
To survive, he needed to stay far away from this madman. The less entanglement, the better.
—A cannon fodder stand-in and a cannon fodder white moonlight? Two doomed losers together won’t magically cancel out the doom.
So Shi Zhou put on an exaggerated show of indignation, "How could you insult me like this?! It was always about love! Love, you understand? My heart belongs only to the dashing, tender Ah Qi—"
Qin Yancheng cut in, "After today, Qixing Entertainment will blacklist you completely. You’ll lose all your resources."
Shi Zhou’s words died in his throat.
Oh right. He’d been so focused on Zheng Qi being a scumbag, he’d forgotten Zheng Qi was also his boss. After today’s chaos, Zheng Qi would surely want to skin him alive.
"Don’t worry. I won’t touch you. I have no interest in men—especially not you."
Shi Zhou knew Qin Yancheng was capricious, his actions unpredictable. Anything was possible with him.
Still, he couldn’t help being suspicious, "Are you running a charity? Or do you just admire my beauty? Wait—is your real name Lei Feng? Are you his descendant?" (TN: Lei Feng was the object of several major propaganda campaigns in China who was portrayed as a model citizen, and the masses were encouraged to emulate his selflessness, modesty, and devotion to Mao Zedong).
Qin Yancheng actually let out a soft laugh, tinged with mockery. He took off his sunglasses and looked at Shi Zhou. "I find you amusing."
"...I can cover your contract damages."
Shi Zhou’s eyes narrowed. This was too good to be true.
Free benefits? As an adult, a purely physical arrangement wouldn’t be a big deal. Shi Zhou, as gay as they come, would’ve paid for a night with this beauty.
Qin Yancheng continued leisurely, "It’s a whim. You have three minutes to decide."
Shi Zhou was still skeptical—until he suddenly remembered Qin Yancheng’s life was on a countdown. He would die quietly, alone, on some unremarkable day this autumn or winter. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow.
And since Shi Zhou knew the ending, wasn’t it his moral duty to stay and save him? He’d regret it forever if he didn’t try.
Finally, he nodded cheerfully, "Deal."
Qin Yancheng watched his sunny expression, as if the very air in the cramped car had turned sweet with his joy and felt disconcerted.
As if the tearful performance earlier had never happened. What an actor.
Shi Zhou flicked his braid, wondering privately. Is it because Qin Yancheng’s lonely?
His three-story, 700-square-meter villa housed only Aunt Zhang and four quiet, non-live-in housekeepers.
Every night he returned from work, only Aunt Zhang was there to cook before leaving him alone in the tomb-silent mansion.
What did he even do for fun? From Shi Zhou’s observations, aside from work, it seemed to be just reading, movies, and exercise—what a dull life for a 26-year-old. Even at 62, Shi Zhou wouldn’t be this boring.
"Where are we going now?"
"To—cough cough...!"
Qin Yancheng’s words were cut off by a violent coughing fit. He pulled over, yanked the handbrake, and covered his mouth with his fist, soon coughing so hard he could barely breathe.
Shi Zhou’s nerves immediately tightened, "Qin Yancheng? What’s wrong?"
Qin Yancheng seemed about to cough up a lung, unable to respond.
One of the early signs of an asthma attack. Was Qin Yancheng about to kick the bucket this suddenly?
Did I jinx this?! I haven’t even had time to learn first aid or buy medication!
Just as Shi Zhou secretly dialed "120" on his phone, Qin Yancheng finally stopped, gasping for air before calming down.
He turned to see Shi Zhou staring at him strangely, as if he had some terminal illness.
"I just choked. Is there a problem?"
Shi Zhou locked his phone instantly, blinking sweetly. "Nope. Just showing proper concern for my sugar daddy~"
.
.
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AN: Shi Zhou: *Intense staring.jpg* (This is what "proper concern" looks like!) (*￣︶￣)