WRA CH18

Chapter 18: Zhou: “I’m Currently Studying Knowledge of Human Medicine.”

A bitter life?

Xiang Zhen pressed the phone close to his ear, almost catching a faint, wry chuckle from his husband amidst the faint static.

He could vaguely hear a few muffled voices in the background: “Mr. X, I’m from HR,” “Let me toast you a glass.” Was this workplace socializing?

Now that someone from HR had shown up, Zhou Sicheng’s stint as an unemployed rideshare driver might get dragged out as cocktail chatter and broadcast to everyone. People loved to fawn over the high and step on the low; they would surely mock his husband for having to drive for a rideshare app after hours.

Xiang Zhen bit his lower lip, his heart aching terribly for him.

Covering the mouthpiece, Zhou Sicheng waved a hand slightly to decline the toast, and the employees tactfully took their leave.

Xiang Zhen’s mind vividly painted the scene: Zhou Sicheng, occupying the lowest rung on the ladder without an expensive tailored suit, reduced to the butt of jokes at the corporate reception. A bitter smile hung at the corner of his lips—not just because of his own hard times, but because he was forcing himself to act generous by agreeing to sell his wife’s… voice.

“Hubby, deep down, you don’t really want me to take this gig, do you?”

Zhou Sicheng: “…Why would you think that?”

Xiang Zhen reasoned that the most prominent trait of an S-type was a need for control. Since Zhou Sicheng loved him so much, how could he possibly want to share his wife’s voice with others? Household robots like Xiao Kui Bao could be programmed to call users things like “Master,” “Papa,” or “Boss.” To ordinary people, it was merely leasing out a voice, but through the eyes of an S-type, it was practically prostituting his wife!

His husband was already working so hard to practice restraint; Xiang Zhen absolutely had to be considerate of Zhou Sicheng’s feelings and avoid provoking him.

Zhou Sicheng didn’t understand what could possibly be wrong with the job he had lined up for him. “What makes you say that?”

Xiang Zhen: “Hubby, my soul, my body, and my voice all belong to you. If you aren’t happy about it, I won’t make this money.”

Zhou Sicheng suddenly locked onto Xiang Zhen’s wavelength. It was as if an electric current shot right up his spine, straight into his brain, violently rattling the switch of his rationality.

His original intention in sending Xiang Zhen to record audio was merely to let him make some quick money so he wouldn’t run around delivering takeout on foot. He had planned to have him pampered with good food and drinks in the studio every day until he returned.

Zhou Sicheng hadn’t genuinely planned on pairing Xiang Zhen’s voiceprint with Xiao Kui Bao, though he hadn’t scrutinized his reasons too closely—he hadn’t had time to think through all the specifics.

Yet here was Xiang Zhen, laying it out so plainly, indulging Zhou Sicheng like a dutiful, virtuous wife from the old society, acting as if he were entirely his private property to handle however he pleased. Even a cold, dead wolf would find its blood boiling at such words.

Xiang Zhen really loved him.

Zhou Sicheng: “Wifey…”

Xiang Zhen’s eyes curved into crescents. Zhou Sicheng was usually so reserved and composed; who knew he could call him “wifey” with so much deep affection?

“Hubby, I turned it down. Oh, by the way, what package did you buy for me? I’m heading over to the parcel locker to pick it up now.”

Zhou Sicheng: “A health-monitoring smartband.”

Xiang Zhen: “Thank you, hubby!”

Xiang Zhen hung up and called Mr. Gao back first to decline his kind offer politely.

Gao Ou couldn’t understand why Xiang Zhen had suddenly changed his mind. He rarely botched the tasks President Zhou assigned him. The fact that Zhou Sicheng had brought him in on his personal affairs with Xiang Zhen meant he trusted him, proving that his standing as the lead executive secretary was rock-solid. He certainly didn’t want Zhou Sicheng handing this assignment off to another secretary.

He couldn’t resist putting in a few more persuasive words: “Just three evenings, two hours each day. Daily payout, two hundred thousand after taxes.”

Xiang Zhen felt extraordinarily guilty. Mr. Gao was such a wonderful, compassionate person. With so many professional voice actors with gorgeous voices out there, Mr. Gao had only thought of him because his family was poor: “I’m really sorry, my husband didn’t agree.”

Gao Ou: ???

Didn’t your husband tell me to arrange this in the first place? Do you have another husband running around?!

Gao Ou clicked open the door to his private stall, caught sight of President Zhou across the room, pointed to his phone, and shook his head.

Zhou Sicheng gave a slight nod, signaling that everything was completely under control.

Gao Ou: “…”

Xiang Zhen picked up the parcel, unboxed it to find a sleek smartwatch, activated it, logged in, and shared his real-time data with his husband.

This was undeniably another piece of Zhou Sicheng’s controlling nature.

“Hubby, I’ll wear it all the time.”

“Mn. You did well.”

Xiang Zhen pumped his fist—he had earned praise from his S!

Zhou Sicheng guided Xiang Zhen step-by-step through linking his account to the band, only to watch the app reflect him setting off to deliver food again without looking back.

…What had been the original purpose of his phone call to Xiang Zhen again?

Zhou Sicheng shifted his long legs uncomfortably, suddenly feeling as though just standing around was a sin.

Whatever. With bodyguards trailing him, it wouldn’t hurt to let his delicate, spoiled wife build up some stamina ahead of time.

After all, Xiang Zhen had already… spoken so boldly. If Zhou Sicheng didn’t study up on gay intimacy right away, it would simply be impolite.

The AI World Summit lasted two days. On the morning of May 19th, Zhou Sicheng delivered his keynote address, calling for greater investment in foundation model training, the establishment of core technical moats and ecosystem dominance, and accelerating Xiao Kui Bao’s deployment into the application layer.

Fortunately, the speech had been drafted ten days prior; there was no way he could have penned such forceful, resolute words during the last couple of days.

Zhou Sicheng mused that since he and Xiang Zhen couldn’t have children, there would be no one to inherit the estate, meaning they would have to rely on artificial intelligence for retirement anyway. Therefore, ramping up investment was indeed the right path. Xiao Kui Bao might have a wretched personality, but at least his wife liked it.

A sudden paternal sentiment washed over him—even if the rebellious brat was an utter disappointment, a father still had to do everything possible to lift him up.

On the afternoon of May 19th, Zhou Sicheng flew to a western city to inspect the Xiao Kui Bao computing data center.

He compressed a whole month’s worth of business travel into these few days so that moving forward, he could stay in Haicheng as much as possible.

On the night of May 20th, Zhou Sicheng prepared for his return flight.

Waiting at the airport hotel, he sent Secretary Gao away to grab some food. Sitting up straight and solemn, he put on his headphones, opened his laptop, and settled his mind—to study specialized techniques.

First, he needed to review basic human medicine. Medical ignorance was terrifying, and no one had the heart to send such a gorgeous, delicate wife straight to the proctology clinic.

[Xiang Zhen: Hubby, is your flight tonight? Can you make it home today?]

[Zhou Sicheng: I won’t make it. It’ll probably be past midnight by the time I touch down. Go to sleep first.]

[Xiang Zhen: It’s fine! Tonight at midnight is the first wave of 618 pre-sale final payments. I’m on the night shift and don’t clock out until one in the morning anyway.]

Zhou Sicheng didn’t understand anything about “final payments.” He merely thought the e-commerce platforms were unhinged; was there even any point in keeping this customer service job?

Once he got back, what kind of job should he set up for Xiang Zhen? Open a shop for him?

[Zhou Sicheng: Since you love sweets so much, how about I open a bakery for you? Or a milk tea shop? We can hire a couple of staff, you’ll be the boss, and all you’ll have to do every day is dress nicely.]

If Xiang Zhen had a brand he fancied, they could buy a franchise or acquire it outright; if Xiang Zhen turned out to be more ambitious, he could give him a whole dedicated team to incubate a brand from scratch.

Xiang Zhen was alarmed. Risking the rules, he dashed into the restroom to slack off and dialed Zhou Sicheng’s number: “Hubby, how could you think like that? What are you browsing right now? Did you stumble across one of those fast-franchise scam ads?”

Their household only had a tiny bit of spare cash right now, and neither of them had any food and beverage experience whatsoever. How could they open a milk tea shop or restaurant? They didn’t have enough capital—did he plan to take out hundreds of thousands in loans? They would lose everything down to the shirt on their backs.

“Hubby, your ambition is great, but please go follow Brother Yong Talks F&B first!”

Zhou Sicheng: “…”

Right now, doing anything inconsistent with his penniless persona was simply inviting humiliation.

Zhou Sicheng scrambled to salvage his image: “I was just throwing ideas around. Actually, right now I’m studying human medical knowledge.”

He deliberately lowered his voice, letting it carry an ambiguous, suggestive undertone.

Medical knowledge!

It matched!

So Zhou Sicheng was currently studying how to beat his wife without inflicting lasting pain, and how to apply medicine and disinfect wounds afterward? Honestly, it sounded a bit deviant.

Xiang Zhen believed Zhou Sicheng would restrain himself. And if he couldn’t, Xiang Zhen knew a bit of martial arts too.

The golden locks atop Xiang Zhen’s head twitched. Trying his best to sound composed, he said in a timid voice, “Hubby, I’m not scared.”

Zhou Sicheng’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Xiang Zhen had understood the hint. From Xiang Zhen’s banter with Xiao Kui Bao, it was clear he wasn’t the kind of simpleton who believed a night life meant chatting under a quilt; he could type out the words “sex life” without batting an eye.

Zhou Sicheng wished the plane would take off immediately, rather than keeping him stranded at the airport hotel due to weather delays.

“Go ahead with your work for now. I still have some literature to review.”

Xiang Zhen ended the call, pushed open the restroom stall door, and walked out without looking left or right. Suddenly, a voice called out to him.

“You must be Xiang Zhen. Allow me to introduce myself—I’m Feng Chujun, the heir to this company.”

A man about 1.8 meters tall extended a hand with a smile. “I’ll be working overtime alongside you all tonight.”

Xiang Zhen’s eyes flickered. He hadn’t seen the man wash his hands with his own eyes, so he wasn’t keen on shaking hands in a restroom. “Hello. I’m customer support.”

Feng Chujun: “I went abroad for high school, and people overseas are rather open-minded. Gender doesn’t really matter. Gay people don’t need to hide in restrooms to take calls; there’s nothing shameful about it.”

Xiang Zhen: “I took the call in the restroom because you installed surveillance cameras, and taking calls during work hours docks our pay.”

He had met his husband on an honest blind date, completely out in the open; what was there to hide?

Feng Chujun stared at Xiang Zhen’s face. Until returning to the country, he had never imagined anyone could possess blond hair more radiant than North American boys paired with such an exquisite, ethereal Asian face: “Those are unavoidable measures. Our company is upgrading and streamlining processes; we won’t need that many employees.”

Xiang Zhen: “Oh.”

Feng Chujun: “If you don’t want to get laid off, you need to show more value to convince me to keep you.”

Xiang Zhen answered honestly: “I only know how to do customer service.”

Feng Chujun felt the distinct helplessness of punching a pile of cotton. His lips twitched. “Today is 520. Looks like I’ll be the one keeping you company instead of your boyfriend. Didn’t your boyfriend do anything for you today?”

Do what?

Xiang Zhen found this petty capitalist rather odd. “I need to get back to my workstation. Overtime breaks get docked.”

…

Knock, knock.

Secretary Gao tapped softly on the bedroom door of the hotel suite. Sure enough, he saw a workaholic engrossed in official business, burning the midnight oil.

“President Zhou.”

“What is it?”

Gao Ou hesitated slightly. “Today is 520.”

May 20th was purely a commercialized holiday cooked up by businesses to harvest consumers. Gao Ou worried on one hand that President Zhou would find it childish and dismiss it, while worrying on the other that President Zhou might remember tomorrow and blame him for not reminding him today.

Zhou Sicheng was entirely absorbed in perusing his research materials and didn’t catch the drift.

Gao Ou: “Usually on this day, couples send a 520-yuan transfer to their partners.”

Zhou Sicheng raised his eyes and picked up his phone. “Thank you for the reminder.”

Gao Ou walked over, intending to help tidy the desk. “The radar echo has cleared up; the flight can take off now.”

Zhou Sicheng looked down to send a transfer to Xiang Zhen. His thumb swiftly tapped out 5, 2, 0, 0, 0, 0… After entering who knew how many zeroes, he suddenly remembered his persona and quickly deleted them.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Secretary Gao drawing closer, while his open laptop screen was displaying…

“Stop.” Zhou Sicheng snapped the laptop lid shut with one hand while confirming the payment via fingerprint with the other. “I’ll pack it up myself.”

Secretary Gao stepped back: “Understood.”

At 11:02 PM on May 20th, Xiang Zhen received a 52.00 red envelope from his husband.

Conveniently, he hadn’t yet posted an official relationship announcement on Moments because Zhou Sicheng didn’t allow photos to be shared, and Xiang Zhen had never come up with the right caption. Overjoyed, Xiang Zhen took a screenshot and posted it to Moments—proof of true love, backed by receipts.

Ten minutes passed without a single like. But there was one comment.

[Yu Yueyue: Tell him to drop dead from stinginess.]

Xiang Zhen pouted. His husband had remembered such a trivial holiday and sent him a red envelope—what did the amount matter? Wasn’t it just moving money from the left hand to the right anyway?

Three minutes later, he received a like. Xiang Zhen looked over eagerly.

[Liked by Feng Chujun]