Sickly Bigshot CH 35 The Stolen Kiss
Translated by The BL Muse (ko-fi)
Fans were absolutely losing it over Qin Yancheng’s ears turning red—this was a groundbreaking discovery!
[This man, who should have eyes filled with 30% indifference, 30% mockery, and 40% aloofness in a pie chart, actually BLUSHED?!]
[HAHAHAHAHA, this is gold! The old-school vibes are strong with this one!]
[President Qin, since when did you get so shy?! The contrast is killing me! Zhouzhou, kiss him again and make his ears even redder!]
[So even domineering CEOs have their bashful moments?! This morning he was driving the wildest car, and now he’s this innocent?!]
[ChengZhou forever! I can’t take it—I need a blood transfusion! My heart can’t handle this!]
The usually cold and intimidating Mr. Qin was now sporting bright red ears, his head adorned with the heart-shaped clips Shi Zhou had playfully pinned on him earlier. Every slight movement made the little hearts wobble on their springs, sending fans into a screenshot frenzy.
Xin Jing, standing behind the camera, was laughing his ass off. How could screenshots be enough—he had to personally take the most perfect pictures with his phone for the highest-quality and angle.
Unfortunately, Shi Zhou didn’t have his phone on him, so he remained blissfully unaware of Qin Yancheng’s rare "adorable" moment. All he knew was that Qin Yancheng was still inexplicably giving him the cold shoulder.
And Qin Yancheng himself had no idea these little details had been exposed.
—His original purpose for coming was just to accompany Shi Zhou and play along. He didn't pay much attention to the cameras or filming, so he often forgot his every move was being recorded. As a result, he remained completely oblivious to how thoroughly he’d been betrayed by the footage every time.
Shi Zhou, clueless, patted Qin Yancheng’s shoulder and whispered quiet enough that the mics wouldn’t pick it up, "Damn, Mr. Qin, you’re amazing! Who knew you had moves like that?"
Qin Yancheng stiffened slightly before replying with a faint "Mnn."
The burning heat in his ears, cheeks, and neck finally began to fade. He had no idea what had come over him earlier—Shi Zhou’s voice, his warm breath against his skin, his scent, the feel of his heartbeat against his back...
Thankfully, Shi Zhou was too dense to notice.
After a short break, the second round of the game began.
The three teams formed a large circle, facing a narrow wooden bridge and rolling obstacles. In the center stood a microphone and it also didn't seem to be an easy thing to reach. Looks like this was some kind of quick-response challenge this time.
Shi Zhou sighed in relief. Answering questions wouldn’t be a problem for Qin Yancheng.
As the so-called "pinnacle of adult male excellence," Qin Yancheng had skipped grades in school and graduated from one of the world’s top universities.
Though he never boasted about it, Shi Zhou knew his knowledge was vast—a true academic prodigy in his youth.
Just as Shi Zhou was ready to ride the coattails of this genius, Xin Jing announced:
"Round two—Name That Tune! Get ready to buzz in—"
Shi Zhou froze. Before he could even process it, the first song started playing:
"Ah~ ah~ ah ah ah~ ah~ ah~..."
The scene fell silent for three seconds before Tan Zhi suddenly gasped in realization and dashed forward like lightning. He nimbly leaped across the bridge, ducked under the rolling obstacles, and lunged for the microphone!
Shi Zhou turned to Qin Yancheng in utter confusion. Qin Yancheng also looked back at him. Both had entered a realm of complete ignorance, left with no choice but to stand there in silence.
"Uh, I... don’t really listen to pop music," Shi Zhou admitted, shaking his long hair helplessly.
Truthfully, he did listen to pop music—but in his original world, where he’d lived for 23 years. He had zero familiarity with this world’s pop songs.
"I don’t listen to music," Qin Yancheng stated simply.
Thus, this round was an absolute disaster. Ten songs played, and they couldn’t answer a single one. The match ended swiftly and anticlimactically.
The two stood rooted in place like silent monoliths from Stonehenge, perfectly aligned in their shared silence.
[OMG save me, you two are so adorable! Even though you lost, it’s just too cute!]
[I knew President Qin was too ethereal to listen to pop, but I didn’t expect the trendy Zhouzhou to be just as clueless. A perfect match!]
[Ahem, is no one gonna mention President Qin still has those heart clips in his hair? His whole image has become cold and cutesy, a cutesy coldness!]
[LMAO, Zhouzhou didn’t even remind him! I saw the director sneaking a laugh earlier!]
[I saw him taking pictures too!]
[HAHAHAHAHA, dying from laughter here!]
The comments section erupted in laughter. Qin Yancheng, finally sensing something amiss, slowly raised a hand to touch his hair—
Then, expressionless, he turned to Shi Zhou, who immediately feigned innocence, shaking his head vigorously. "Don’t blame me! How was I supposed to know you forgot to take them off? I thought you were just being cute... HAHAHAHA, this is hilarious HAHAHAHA!" He couldn't even finish before bursting into laughter.
Qin Yancheng: "........."
He had no idea what was wrong with him today. His mind was a chaotic mess, emotions surging uncontrollably and he couldn't even make any sense of it at all.
This was extremely rare for someone as emotionally detached as him. Qin Yancheng even wondered if his mental state was deteriorating again, losing grip on his rationality like before.
But this was different. In his darkest days, his emotions had been simple—just the struggle between wanting to die and the stubborn will to survive. Any other feelings were just basic negativity.
Now, though, he felt that his mind was a chaotic whirlwind with vivid, happy emotions mixed in—
Every time he got closer to Shi Zhou, he became abnormal. His heart raced uncomfortably, flooded with joy, warmth, bitterness, jealousy, fear... even a desperate urge to possess and claim.
Thankfully, over these years he had become really good at using rigid self-control to suppress these emotions and appear like a normal person. So now he could at least maintain a facade of normalcy.
After tallying the scores, the two were forced to take second place just because of a simple music round.
Shi Zhou was a little bummed. Though second wasn’t terrible and they’d still get meat, it looks like he had to bid farewell to his beloved corn ribs.
He hid his disappointment, consoling himself: It’s just ribs. I can ask Qin Yancheng to make them another time...
No! I want them NOW!
It may not matter normally, but humans were contrary creatures with a rebellious mentality. The more you can't eat something, the more you crave it.
Just how in the past, Shi Zhou would walk by a fragrant fried chicken shop without much interest. But when one day his brother forbade him from eating unhygienic street food and he lost the right to eat fried chicken, he suddenly developed an insatiable craving.
After three days of agony, he finally sneaked out to buy a huge bag of fried chicken while Shi Li was working late. Just as he took his first glorious bite, Shi Li—whose meeting had been canceled—walked in and caught him red-handed. A lecture ensued, but Shi Zhou, while pretending to repent, kept sneakily taking bites, infuriating Shi Li to no end.
What's more, Qin Yancheng’s corn ribs were leagues above any street food. Normally, Shi Zhou would hover around the kitchen, salivating over the simmering pot, even when Qin Yancheng told him to be patient.
Especially now when Tan Zhi and Li You had started discussing, “Do you think the ribs should be stewed or stir-fried? Can you make braised ones?”
—It was over. He broke instantly. He wanted nothing more than to sit on the ground and wail.
But then he remembered that at least there would be meat. Unlike Yang Yuxin’s team, who would be eating full vegetarian. After frantically comforting himself for a while, he perked up again, grinning as he asked, “Qin sir, what are we eating first for lunch?”
Qin Yancheng paused, recalling Shi Zhou’s earlier mutterings about ribs while being carried on his back. Calmly, he replied, "Corn ribs."
"We can’t. We’re in second place—no ribs, no corn."
Qin Yancheng thought for a moment, then glanced at Tan Zhi and stated coolly, "We can have them. Tan Zhi does."
[Tan Zhi: The ribs are in danger.]
[That’s my President Qin—so domineering, so ruthless. HAHAHAHA!]
[Hey! Don’t bully my husband! Are you two planning a couple heist?! Hubby, run!]
[A billionaire CEO resorting to meat theft to feed his wife?! Is this a bandit x glutton love story?! I NEED MORE!]
Shi Zhou assumed he was joking. Qin Yancheng’s really something—still cracking deadpan jokes even during a cold war. What’s going on in that head of his?
After collecting their ingredients, everyone dispersed. Yang Yuxin was still throwing a tantrum, begging the crew to swap his greens for something else—claiming he wouldn’t touch a single leaf.
Shi Zhou sighed. Poor Guo Chenming—stuck with such a teammate.
And poor Xin Jing, resisting the urge to strangle Yang Yuxin while enduring his nonsense and having his sanity tested.
Qin Yancheng stored their groceries in their new lodging, then turned and said, "Let’s go get some ribs from Tan Zhi."
Curious about Qin Yancheng’s heist plan, Shi Zhou followed him to knock on Tan Zhi and Li You’s door.
Li You, who opened the door, was surprised to see the two of them suddenly show up. Then, as if realizing something, she wore a sorrowful, helpless expression and asked, “Don’t tell me… you guys can’t cook either?”
“Either? Neither of you? Not even a little?” Shi Zhou asked in astonishment as Li You welcomed them inside.
“Tan Zhi said he can cook a tiny bit, but it seems like—”
Before she could finish, a desperate shout came from the kitchen. “Ah! Why is it burnt again?! It’s smoking!”
Shi Zhou burst into laughter at the smoky disaster scene—as expected, kitchen disasters were a universal curse, and misery truly loved company.
Thankful that he at least wouldn’t go hungry—and judging by the look of things, Qin Yancheng wouldn’t let the other two starve either—Shi Zhou puffed out his chest proudly. “We’ve got a top chef right here! The type that it’d be a crime if he didn’t work at a Michelin restaurant!”
Hearing that, Tan Zhi peeked his head out and asked excitedly, “Shi Zhou, you can cook? That’s amazing, Chef Shi, please save us! We’re just wasting food at this point!”
Qin Yancheng said calmly, “We can help you, but we’ll take half of your food in exchange.”
“No problem!” Tan Zhi and Li You responded almost in unison. That deal sounded perfect. After all, they were just burning through ingredients anyway. They immediately looked at Shi Zhou with hopeful eyes.
Seeing they all assumed he was the chef—probably never imagining that Qin Yancheng, the man who signed nine-figure contracts, could also cook—Shi Zhou flashed a mysterious smile, took the little brown bear apron Tan Zhi handed over, and slowly walked toward Qin Yancheng.
The room fell silent.
After a long pause, Tan Zhi finally let out a stunned, “Ahhh…” and asked in shock, “Wait—President Qin is the one cooking?!”
Shi Zhou tilted his head slightly. “Who else? You didn’t know? If I were cooking, we’d be eating either boiled eggs or instant noodles.”
[WTF, Qin Yancheng can cook?!]
[He sure can! He made dinner the night they arrived—I was already shocked back then. You must have terrible internet to still not know.]
[That apron looks kinda short on someone who’s 190 cm tall, LOL]
[To let baby Shi Zhou eat ribs, President Qin is actually offering up his precious labor to cook?!]
[Too sweet I’m gonna die ahhhh! I’ll be the first to feast on this dog food—time to kick my cow out and plow the field myself again!]
[Quick, screenshot this! President Qin in a little bear apron is unexpectedly adorable! Total gap moe!]
Shi Zhou rolled up his sleeves, ready to help in the kitchen, but Qin Yancheng didn’t even look up as he chopped vegetables and said flatly, “Go wait outside.”
That instantly triggered another chorus of groundhog-style shrieks from the sugar-hunting crowd: “President Qin is so doting!”
Qin Yancheng cooked quickly, pulling out ingredients that Shi Zhou liked but ingredients that they themselves didn’t have. He whipped up five dishes in a row, unapologetically claiming more than half of each one. The corn and pork rib stew in particular was basically gone; he left Tan Zhi and Li You three or four pieces each—just enough to taste.
To eat food personally cooked by the mercurial Mr. Qin was like suddenly being served a state banquet. Tan Zhi and Li You were in a dreamlike daze as they nervously took the plates from Qin Yancheng and placed them on the table, not even slightly bothered by the small portions.
Tan Zhi, already a little hungry and drooling at the aroma, joked, “President Qin, do you want to take some ingredients back to cook at your leisure?”
Li You gave Tan Zhi a look that clearly said, No way! If Qin Yancheng took ingredients home, he might not come back tonight to cook—and then what? Would they gnaw on raw rice?
Qin Yancheng seemed to catch her meaning. “Tomato and egg stir-fry—look it up online. It’s simple. Anyone not completely hopeless can manage it.”
Just as Shi Zhou was reaching to sneak a bite of ribs, he heard that and immediately felt personally attacked. “Hey! Who are you calling hopeless?”
Truth was, he had racked his brains but still couldn’t master that supposedly simple dish. It always ended up burnt or drowning in oil. Once, in a flash of inspiration, he’d tried stir-frying garlic for aroma, only to coat it in raw egg. Qin Yancheng had taken one bite and nearly spit it out, face green like he’d just been poisoned.
Clutching their hard-won treasure, Shi Zhou finally got to eat the corn and rib stew he’d been craving, and after eating to his heart’s content, his mood instantly brightened.
Filming wouldn’t start until 3 p.m., so with time to spare, Shi Zhou lounged on the couch, his injured fingers in the air, and got ready to scroll on his phone.
But before he could even open Weibo, a large, cool hand suddenly grabbed his wrist.
Shi Zhou startled and looked up to see Qin Yancheng squatting in front of him, expressionlessly holding his wrist and examining the burn wound on his fingertips.
“Didn’t I tell Bian Shuai to remind you to apply your medicine? Why didn’t you today?”
Shi Zhou froze, then quickly yanked his hand back and mumbled in a voice too soft for the cameras to catch, “What, your precious mouth can’t be used to talk to me directly? Had to pass a message through someone else? And besides, what’s it got to do with you anyway?”
Qin Yancheng handed him the ointment. “Put it on. Now.”
Shi Zhou turned away, ignoring him.
Although he was annoyed by Qin Yancheng’s strange, hot-and-cold behavior lately, he wasn’t refusing the medicine to be spiteful. It was just that this stuff really stung. Every time he applied it, it felt like fire, and he barely held back from howling in pain to save the bit of dignity he had left.
The original owner's body had seriously sensitive tear ducts, and Shi Zhou was terrified that if he teared up even a little, he’d end up in tomorrow’s tabloids: "Shocking! Male celebrity cries over minor finger wound! When will sissified idols stop?!"
Qin Yancheng saw him resisting and, voice steely and unyielding, commanded coldly, “Hand. Hold still.”
Then he squatted down and firmly grabbed Shi Zhou’s hand to apply the medicine himself.
As they say, the fingers are connected to the heart—it hurt so bad Shi Zhou sucked in a breath, biting his lip and trying not to make a sound. Sure enough, his eyes were starting to sting.
Shit, don’t cry now, I swear I don't wanna cry!
Frantically, he tried to think of a joke to distract himself and see if he could make himself laugh.
But when Qin Yancheng looked up, he saw Shi Zhou’s trembling lips, the red rims of his eyes, and that glossy shimmer threatening to spill from his lashes. Their eyes met, and Qin Yancheng paused, visibly startled, a string seemingly connected to his heart suddenly thrumming inside him.
He had been incredibly gentle, but now—seeing Shi Zhou on the verge of tears—he actually couldn’t bring himself to continue.
After a beat of silence, he forced himself to finish the task, and Shi Zhou finally let out a tiny, pained “ah!”
Qin Yancheng slowly stood up, silently packed up the supplies, and distanced himself again.
Shi Zhou huffed. The pain made his young master temper flare, and all the old grudges came flooding back. He didn’t want to speak to this erratic, moody, maybe-taken-the-wrong-medicine Qin Yancheng.
Because on one hand, Shi Zhou knew Qin Yancheng was doing it for his own good—everything he did was kind and attentive.
But on the other hand, Qin Yancheng had been acting so mentally impaired lately—barely speaking, deliberately distancing himself from Shi Zhou… it was infuriating!
Due to changing to a new place, as usual, Qin Yancheng was the one organizing everything. Shi Zhou flopped on the couch and used his alt account, “Runaway Airship at the Flower Market,” to post a few blurry sneak shots of Qin Yancheng.
He hadn’t posted in days, so his sudden reappearance sparked a flood of excited comments asking him about updates:
[Author-sama!! Did you see what happened this morning?! I got screenshots, hehe slurp slurp]
[I got some too! Come on, inspire yourself with these spicy pics!]
[Just from that shot I could write 50k words of smut—if I can, you definitely can!!]
Shi Zhou’s face burned. He thought back to the weird feeling of Qin Yancheng brushing against the inside of his thigh this morning and suddenly felt hot and weak-kneed. Before he could even shout “Don’t send it! I’m not looking!”, his inbox was flooded with photos from those smut-loving pervs.
He groaned helplessly—he really didn’t want to “enjoy” them!
Just as he quit Weibo to clear his head, he saw a stream of nine unread messages from his cheap manager, Li Cheng, all basically begging for Qin Yancheng’s mercy.
They were sent four hours ago but when Shi Zhou typed a simple question mark, within seconds, Li Cheng was “typing…”
Li Cheng: Shi Zhou, for the sake of our years of working together… if you’re gonna jump ship, can you take me with you?
Shi Zhou: Why? Did you sleep with Zheng Qi’s wife, so now he wants to kill you?
Scrolling up through the messages, Shi Zhou pieced it together: Qixing was finished. A major project had suddenly collapsed, their Series E funding failed, the cash flow dried up, the banks sued, and now the authorities were investigating...
Basically, the board was scrambling to cut losses and dump shares, while employees below were all looking for escape routes.
Shi Zhou glanced away from his phone to the figure in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and washing dishes. Since they were still in a cold war, Shi Zhou decided to match Qin Yancheng's silent treatment with some of his own—no one talks to anyone. So he didn’t ask about it.
He had never heard Qin Yancheng mention anything about this. Shi Zhou had thought Qin Yancheng, being the bigger person, had already let Zheng Qi off the hook. He had been feeling it was too cheap a price for a scumbag like that. But now it seemed otherwise—clearly, Qin Yancheng hadn't let it go. And what a beautiful move.
The downfall of Qixing Entertainment had to be Qin Yancheng’s doing. No one else could destroy a company worth over a billion so easily.
Just then, a message from Zheng Qi came in too. Also filled with vague, twisted pleas and declarations of innocence—swearing he had never had improper thoughts about Mr. Qin.
Shi Zhou found it absurd. Something happened, and you're begging me? Go beg Qin Yancheng! You’re barking up the wrong tree, both of you.
He quickly typed out three words: "Fend for yourself."
After a moment’s thought, he added: "Deepest sympathies."
Still felt too insincere. So he tacked on: "Condolences. I hereby express my deep regret. May you soon find a bridge with cool shade in summer and warmth in winter under which to sleep!"
He could practically picture Zheng Qi’s furious face on the other end of the screen.
Sure enough, Zheng Qi paused for a moment, then sent four consecutive voice messages. But since the cameras were still rolling, and Shi Zhou also didn’t want to hear a dog barking, he didn’t open them. He just converted them to text:
—Shi Zhou! Don’t get cocky, you bitch!
—Look at your smug face! You think Qin Yancheng will like you for long? He only thinks you’re interesting because you kinda resemble him!
—You think anyone who stays close to him ends well? He’s a lunatic! You don’t even know what kind of person he really is! Do you even know what kind of person he was like before?
—Just wait. I won’t let you have it easy!
Clearly, Zheng Qi had realized begging Shi Zhou was useless and just tore off the mask.
Shi Zhou found his rage amusing. If you play with fire, you should expect to get burned eventually.
If Qin Yancheng hadn’t died so early in the original novel, would scum like Zheng Qi really have gotten a happy ending? Shi Zhou was dying to see just how brutal an ending Qin Yancheng had in store for Zheng Qi.
In the kitchen, Qin Yancheng was calmly washing dishes. Shi Zhou secretly gave him a sideways glare, struggling not to talk to him.
He had planned to match Qin Yancheng’s hot-and-cold attitude with silence, but clearly, it only gave this quiet man more peace and cost him nothing. Meanwhile, someone like Shi Zhou, who loved to talk, was on the verge of imploding. He had to admit this was a battle where he’d harmed himself more than the enemy.
Frustrated, Shi Zhou sulked and went back to browsing Weibo. He hadn’t looked properly in days. He especially wanted to see what had happened after he fell into the water—and whether he’d embarrassed himself too much.
The video clip started from the moment Qin Yancheng brought him back to the boat. Only now Shi Zhou realized that his hands had been clinging tightly to Qin Yancheng the whole time, refusing to let go.
The more he watched, the more his eyes widened. He hadn’t realized just how mortifying the whole scene had been—not only did he cling to Qin Yancheng like a koala, nuzzling into his arms, but he even… cried on his shoulder. Full-on weeping, tear-streaked, pitiful sobbing.
He looked at the number of shares, likes, and comments beneath the video—and immediately jolted up from the couch in a panicked sit-up, face burning red with embarrassment!
And yet, the more ashamed he was, the more he had to watch—to see what else he had done, and whether that was why Qin Yancheng had been acting so weird lately.
The video continued. The people around them were busy and panicked, rushing to help—complete chaos.
Shi Zhou had resigned himself to the reality that he had been bawling into Qin Yancheng’s arms for an absurdly long time. Now, despairing, he just wanted to see how long it had lasted—
Then, in the video, Qin Yancheng gently lifted Shi Zhou’s head and kissed his forehead.
Shi Zhou: !!!!!!!!!!
He was so shocked he nearly dropped his phone. In disbelief, he rewound the video and watched it again.
This time, he saw it even more clearly: not only had Qin Yancheng sneakily kissed his forehead during the chaos, he’d even guiltily glanced around to see if anyone had noticed!
Shi Zhou was stunned. He touched his innocent, now-defiled forehead in horror, unsure what emotion to even process first. In a shaky voice, he called out:
"Qin Yancheng…"
Qin Yancheng had just finished scrubbing the last dish and was about to put it into the cupboard when he heard Shi Zhou call him. Out of instinct he responded coldly and distantly, "Mnn?"
"You—You kissed me secretly?!" Shi Zhou shouted in shocked outrage.
The drawn-out words cracked like thunder—and Qin Yancheng froze on the spot!
His brain went blank like he’d been struck by lightning!
The dish in his hand slipped and shattered on the floor. He stood stiffly for a long moment, then slowly turned to look at Shi Zhou—