Xiang Zhen seemed sincerely worried about the issue of being “made to cry.” In the elevator, Zhou Sicheng had no choice but to promise, “I swear I’ll be gentle.”

Xiang Zhen had read novels before; “S” (sadists) always coaxed their partners by saying it wouldn’t hurt right before getting into bed, but they would always get more excessive by the end. Furthermore, considering the force with which Zhou Sicheng gripped things, he didn’t seem like he was genuinely swearing an oath. Xiang Zhen looked at him: “What if you can’t do it?”

Zhou Sicheng: “Then I’ll set Little Sunflower’s stance to be 100% biased toward you, letting it scold me every day.”

Xiang Zhen finally believed Zhou Sicheng was sincere because, in the past, every time Little Sunflower spoke up for him, Zhou Sicheng would look like a lone commander betrayed by his trusted aide—thunderous with rage and as incompatible with the AI as water and fire.

The seven-day gag order on Little Sunflower was about to expire, and it could soon return to their chat box. A sunflower spirit integrating into society needed the assistance of AI. What was the difference between a Little Sunflower that was 100% biased toward him and his own biological siblings?

Xiang Zhen returned the paper bag to Zhou Sicheng: “It looks very expensive. Can we return it?”

Zhou Sicheng never kept track of his spending—he even dared to buy a 398-yuan cake—but Xiang Zhen absolutely wouldn’t allow him to waste money on things like this. He would much rather buy a 398-yuan cake instead.

Zhou Sicheng: “No.” It would be used sooner or later.

Xiang Zhen nudged him: “Are you too embarrassed to return it? I’ll handle it.”

Zhou Sicheng pinched his slightly chubby cheeks: “You have a thick face. Hygiene products aren’t eligible for return or exchange.”

Xiang Zhen: “Then can I list it on the magical Xianyu (second-hand app)?”

Zhou Sicheng: “…” If they weren’t going to get into bed, then so be it. He wasn’t so poor that he needed to sell off condoms, becoming a laughingstock if word got out.

Xiang Zhen took out his phone and clicked on Little Sunflower in front of Zhou Sicheng: “Little Sunflower, Little Sunflower, can I list unopened condoms and lubricant on Xianyu?”

[Little Sunflower: It is not recommended. Condoms are classified as medical devices and are strictly prohibited by official regulations. Some individual sellers only manage to sell them by drilling loopholes using homophones or edge-case tactics.]

Zhou Sicheng raised an eyebrow; this was the most useful thing Little Sunflower had ever said.

[Little Sunflower: Don’t worry! You can choose a potential buyer through WeChat Moments or group chats!]

Zhou Sicheng’s face turned black. The artificial idiot had come up with another terrible idea.

Xiang Zhen’s black eyes darted around, as if searching through his WeChat Moments to see who might be a potential buyer.

The elevator arrived at the 16th floor. Zhou Sicheng held Xiang Zhen’s waist as they walked out. Once they entered the rented apartment and closed the door, he turned and pinned Xiang Zhen against the door—but then he remembered that everyday items that didn’t fit in the cabinets, like umbrellas and rolls of toilet paper, were hanging on the door, so his back had no room to lean.

Zhou Sicheng paused in silence, hugged Xiang Zhen, found an empty patch of wall, and used his knee to pry Xiang Zhen’s legs apart until their bodies were seamlessly embedded together.

Locked against the wall and unable to move, Xiang Zhen saw the towering black iron racks of unit 1620 flash before his eyes.

Zhou Sicheng lowered his head, nuzzling against Xiang Zhen’s neck: “Wife, can you feel it?”

Xiang Zhen’s face flushed red and he averted his gaze, but his lower body couldn’t move. No matter how he tried to hide, he couldn’t escape Zhou Sicheng’s deliberate provocation, so he had to nod: “You’re hard.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Is it big?”

Xiang Zhen was extremely shy, but considering Zhou Sicheng often praised the “bigness” of the sunflower’s face, in the spirit of reciprocity, he couldn’t be stingy either. He whispered: “Big.”

Zhou Sicheng’s tone softened: “If you try to sell condoms on WeChat, I’ll lose a lot of face. I’m full of youthful vigor; others will think your husband is no longer ‘capable,’ which is why you have to sell the condoms.”

Xiang Zhen froze: “I’m sorry, husband. I didn’t think it through.”

His husband’s face was the most important thing; he wouldn’t sell them anymore.

It doesn’t matter, Zhou Sicheng thought; that was just an excuse he’d made up on the spot.

Zhou Sicheng spoke gravely: “Besides, my size is so big that it won’t fit most people, and they’ll come back to you for a refund.”

Thinking about the hassle of dealing with returns, Xiang Zhen shook his head even more firmly: “I’m not selling them, even if they rot in the ground.”

Zhou Sicheng stared at Xiang Zhen and sighed. Why would they rot in the ground? He can just use them.

With such a soft, warm, and fragrant treasure in his arms, he truly couldn’t hold back. He reached into the small of Xiang Zhen’s back to rub him for a moment: “There’s rice in the pot; I’m going to 1620.”

Xiang Zhen’s skin was delicate and fine, like solidified fat. Zhou Sicheng had to go immediately to grip some steel dumbbells to grind away this warmth and smoothness that had seeped into his bones.

“Okay.”

Xiang Zhen watched his husband go off to “let off steam.” He opened the rice cooker and saw the fragrant white rice, while a basin of pickled fish kept warm in hot water sat on the stove.

On the wall, the brand-new range hood was already hung—the slanted, wall-mounted type. Zhou Sicheng would never bump his forehead again.

The feeling of improving their living conditions together with his husband was wonderful.

Xiang Zhen fantasized about buying a house in two years. Every month when he got his salary, he would buy one piece of furniture. Slowly, they would have a warm little home.

He opened the lid of the pickled fish and found that a portion of the fish fillets was perfectly intact, completely untouched.

Zhou Sicheng is so worked up that he can’t even eat.

This can’t go on.

Xiang Zhen still loved kissing Zhou Sicheng, but kissing made Zhou Sicheng react, and he couldn’t keep challenging Zhou Sicheng’s bottom line without satisfying him.

Plants didn’t have pain nerves; they didn’t hurt when struck. Xiang Zhen had been licked by flames on his leaf edges and had stepped barefoot on scorching soil, but for some reason, after turning into a human…

Xiang Zhen opened the “Adult Guide,” trying to find a solution from it.

As he flipped through the pages, Xiang Zhen opened two pages that had been stuck together. A quick glance revealed that spirits of the past actually wrote personal biographies.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak a peek at your diary.”

It wasn’t a unique case; Xiang Zhen discovered even more folded pages.

This book was indeed an “Encyclopedia of Spirits.”

On the illustrations, Xiang Zhen saw the claws of a leopard, the coiled tail of a snake, a blooming honeysuckle… In the future, a brilliant sunflower would be added here.

Xiang Zhen closed the “Adult Guide,” lifted the mattress, and hid it under the bed.

The “Adult Guide” wasn’t an ordinary book; it possessed spiritual intelligence. It could only circulate through the hands of one spirit for five years before it eventually found its way back to the “spirit novice village” to be handed to the next one.

In 1620, Zhou Sicheng was on the treadmill when he received a call from Executive Secretary Gao.

Gao Ou: “President Chu of Changsheng Media called back. Nine o’clock the day after tomorrow, at the Roy Lake Villa.”

Changsheng Media was the largest film and television company in the country. Whether it was traditional long-form dramas, movies, imported series, or current short-form AI dramas, they were all at the forefront of the industry. Even while other film companies were suffering losses, their performance maintained high growth.

Zhoufu and Changsheng had intersecting businesses, and Zhou Sicheng had met with Chu Ren a few times.

Zhou Sicheng planned to find some trouble for Feng Chujun. Once he was deeply mired in the AI investment vortex and unable to extricate himself, he wouldn’t have the spare time to stare at his wife at the company all day. He could also “buy” Zhoufu’s computing power and traffic—even a fly’s leg was meat; if it was offered to his door, he’d accept it with a smile.

Throughout the process, Zhoufu Group had to stay in the shadows to avoid being recognized by Feng Chujun.

He wouldn’t show his face, but Chu Ren could.

The number on the treadmill jumped to 37 minutes. Zhou Sicheng calmed down and hit the stop button.

Time to go back and kiss my wife.

There was still cake in the fridge; today’s after-dinner dessert was mango pomelo sago flavor.

The next morning, Zhou Sicheng drove his wife to work as usual. He had told Secretary Gao that he wouldn’t schedule anything for the weekend, but to deal with the “fly” buzzing around his wife, he had to make a trip to Roy Lake Villa.

It took time to drive there, and there were no parking spots left below the office building. Zhou Sicheng unbuckled Xiang Zhen’s seatbelt: “Go on up. I’ll watch you enter the building from here.”

Xiang Zhen lifted his face and kissed Zhou Sicheng: “Goodbye, husband.”

Zhou Sicheng hooked the corners of his mouth. He’d only been kissing him for two nights and he was already this proactive? Xiang Zhen was just the type of person who was easy to teach and very cooperative…

Xiang Zhen closed the car door. Today, Zhou Sicheng had even made a loving bento for him, which he could heat up in the microwave for lunch.

It was wonderful that his husband had weekends off; he hoped they could stay home and cook together every weekend from now on.

“Xiang Zhen.”

A sound, neither light nor heavy, came from behind. Xiang Zhen turned his head and saw a male colleague wearing glasses—a sales representative from the company. Xiang Zhen hadn’t talked much to him, but they had each other on WeChat.

“Good morning,” Xiang Zhen greeted him energetically.

The male colleague, who was usually a bit shy around Xiang Zhen, heard the greeting and mustered the courage to hand over a paper bag with both hands: “This is a xue meiniang (mochi) my mom made. You like sweets, so you should like this too.”

Xiang Zhen did like them. Yu Yuanyuan often shared snacks with him, but he remembered a point from the “Adult Guide”: gifts should be declined three times before accepting. “Thank you, but I’m already full.”

The male colleague said: “You can eat it at noon. It’ll stay fresh for a day.”

Xiang Zhen: “I have a bento for lunch.”

The colleague: “It’s good for afternoon tea too.”

Xiang Zhen: “Then how could I be so rude as to refuse?”

The colleague: “It’s just sharing between colleagues.”

That’s three refusals.

“Thank you!”

Xiang Zhen tucked it away swiftly. He had never eaten homemade sweets before; they were said to be different from the shop-bought ones. Zhou Sicheng only knew how to buy them, not how to make them.

Zhou Sicheng, inside the car: “…”

He didn’t need to be told what look that male colleague was giving his wife.

My wife already said no, why are you still force-feeding him!

Zhou Sicheng slapped the steering wheel. There were so many romantic rivals in one company—chase one away and another pops up.

Oily guys like Feng Chujun weren’t to be feared; what he feared were those who genuinely and simply liked his wife. After all, in Xiang Zhen’s eyes, Zhou Sicheng was just a broke loser too.

Zhou Sicheng let out a breath. There are xue meiniang in the fridge at home too.

The next second, he heard another enthusiastic greeting, also calling his wife by a nickname.

“Zhenzhen!”

Xiang Zhen looked over at the sound. It was the female streamer hired by the company, who sported big waves and red lips—an urban beauty. But Xiang Zhen’s most vivid impression of her was her performing the “melon seed-cracking” act in her livestream. The seeds would automatically separate shell from kernel the moment they hit her mouth—100 seeds per minute.

Even with the massive caloric intake of melon seeds, the streamer maintained a slender figure. She was holding a Starbucks cup, which she elegantly handed to Xiang Zhen: “Little handsome, let me treat you.”

Xiang Zhen looked at her teeth with inexplicable awe and accepted it without declining: “Thank you, Sister Yao.”

Streamer Yao couldn’t help but touch Xiang Zhen’s hair: “Your hair quality is too good. Mine is so frizzy.”

Zhou Sicheng: “…”

How could he not see through Streamer Yao’s deliberate attempt to get close!

He had seen a woman with long hair loitering at the entrance from far away, and it turned out she was waiting for his wife.

What is going on?!

Why are there so many romantic rivals?!

Zhou Sicheng wasn’t sending Xiang Zhen to work for the first time, but prior to this, he hadn’t detected a single trace of romantic rivals.

Why did they all pop up overnight?!

Zhou Sicheng was completely baffled.

Originally scheduled to pick up his wife to go to the park at 3:00 PM, Zhou Sicheng appeared downstairs at the company by 2:00 PM.

Where Xiang Zhen was, the BYD was home.

Zhou Sicheng lowered the seat back to the lowest position, turned on the AC, and lay flat with his eyes closed to rest.

How can I appear at Xiang Zhen’s company inadvertently, without showing my face or my wealth, to intimidate the romantic rivals?

Zhou Sicheng moved his long legs irritably. Hide my identity and just rely on my height?

While Xiang Zhen was in the restroom, he saw his husband’s BYD appear quietly from upstairs. After pondering for a bit, taking advantage of Feng Chujun’s absence, he snuck out early.

“Husband!” He opened the car door and felt heartbroken seeing his husband sleeping aggrievedly in the car.

“Why did you get here so early?”

Zhou Sicheng sat up straight: “Off work already? I didn’t have anything to do anyway.”

Xiang Zhen reflected: he worked on weekends, Zhou Sicheng had weekends off, and being alone in the rented apartment was too miserable. Zhou Sicheng probably wasn’t used to being alone; he’d be better off going out to run a few rideshare trips.

Eh?

“Almost forgot!”

Xiang Zhen naturally fished the phone out of Zhou Sicheng’s pocket, unlocked it, and clicked into the rideshare app. “It takes an hour to get to Star Bay, we can pick up a rideshare passenger on the way.”

“…” Are you allowed to touch my phone now?

Zhou Sicheng was speechless. Watching his wife’s determined eyes, he could only pray harshly that there weren’t any routes with over 95% compatibility. If it added three kilometers to the route, he would reject them all!

Xiang Zhen: “There’s one that’s a perfect match!”

Zhou Sicheng looked inward and centered himself: “If it adds distance, don’t take it.”

Xiang Zhen tapped his index finger: “No added distance. He gets on our path, and his destination is also Star Bay.”

Why take a rideshare to the park instead of driving your own car?!

Zhou Sicheng fiercely cursed the passenger to have no car to take on the way back.

Xiang Zhen buckled his seatbelt: “Let’s go, husband.”

Zhou Sicheng started the car: “Where’s the pickup?”

Xiang Zhen: “Zhoufu Bank Building.”

A bad premonition rose in Zhou Sicheng’s heart. He cycled through reasons to cancel the order, his expression growing increasingly grave. Whoever gets in this car is fired.

If it’s a low-level employee, and I wear a mask, they shouldn’t recognize me, right?

Heaven didn’t grant his wish.

When Zhou Sicheng saw a familiar bank executive by the roadside of the building, he only wanted to demote him by two levels on the spot.

You don’t earn enough to hire a driver, or enough to buy a car, so why are you taking a rideshare? Fan Hao, are you sick?

The closer he drove, the more he could see Fan Hao’s radiantly smiling face.

Clearly, Fan Hao had already seen the license plate number on the rideshare app and recognized it; he had been standing there smiling for twenty minutes.

Fan Hao waved at the BYD in an exaggerated manner, practically jumping, terrified that Zhou Sicheng would ignore him.

Heaven knows, he had only vaguely heard rumors through the tech grapevine that Zhou Sicheng had registered as a rideshare driver and had actually completed two trips. The rideshare account had been canceled last week, but the rideshare-pooling account was still active—he didn’t know if he was still trying to run it.

So today, when he wanted to go to the Star Hotel, he had opened the rideshare interface on a whim.

Just as he was about to close it, a familiar BYD accepted the order.

License plate is correct!

He had seen a white car from afar, with a red ribbon tied to the rearview mirror—he wasn’t sure until he saw Zhou Sicheng and the unfamiliar but beautiful CEO’s wife sitting in the car—Fan Hao thought he was dreaming.

Fck, fck, fck!*

Zhou Sicheng is running a rideshare service with his beautiful wife!

Every word was familiar, but combined, it was bizarre.

Fan Hao maintained his bizarre smile and opened the back door: “Hello, I am—”

Zhou Sicheng’s face turned leaden: “Say one more word, and bear the consequences.”

Fan Hao: “…”

Xiang Zhen was clueless and subconsciously apologized to the passenger: “Sorry, he doesn’t have any malice.”

Fan Hao: “It’s okay…”

Oh my god! Oh my god! This is the stunning beauty Zhou Sicheng has been hiding in his golden house!

Zhou Sicheng: “Shut up.”

Xiang Zhen whispered to Zhou Sicheng: “Husband, why are you acting like this?”

Zhou Sicheng: “We know each other. His voice is hideous; it makes me nauseous and carsick the moment I hear it.”

Fan Hao: “…”

Xiang Zhen: “Ah.”

Zhou Sicheng took a deep breath: “Phone number digits.”

Fan Hao suppressed the vibrating laughter in his chest: “You don’t know my phone number digits? 8900.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Why would I know that.”

Fan Hao endured the low air pressure in the car, suppressing his laughter the whole way, looking at his boss, then at his boss’s wife.

Looking and looking, he suddenly felt jealous.

Where the hell did Zhou Sicheng find such a good wife who feeds him water?

He felt like a perverted single dog in the back seat.

He realized that Zhou Sicheng didn’t let him talk because he had secrets to hide from Xiang Zhen and was afraid of letting it slip.

Zhou Sicheng looked so hopelessly in love, acting his role so well that he even picked up rideshare passengers. If he accidentally spilled the beans, he’d be dead.

After thirty minutes of silence, Fan Hao finally couldn’t help himself. Ignoring the murderous glare from Zhou Sicheng in the rearview mirror, he weighed his words and opened his mouth: “Sister-in-law, can we add each other on WeChat?”

Xiang Zhen was worried that this passenger would leave a bad review after getting off, and adding him on WeChat would allow him to ask the passenger to modify the review after service, so he curved his eyes: “Sure, sure.”

What would Zhou Sicheng do if he didn’t have a customer-service-minded wife like him in the car?

Xiang Zhen showed his WeChat QR code.

Fan Hao added him with the speed of an high-frequency trader.

He was too curious about Zhou Sicheng’s partner. After all, Zhou Sicheng was far too inhuman.

After Xiang Zhen accepted, Fan Hao clicked on Xiang Zhen’s WeChat Moments, hungry for information—

Emmm…

Fan Hao opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again.

Is this the Zhou Sicheng I know? Did I get into the wrong car, or did I get into a car from a parallel universe? In this world, Zhou Sicheng is a broke loser?

“Er—”

Zhou Sicheng: “Hold it in.”

Fan Hao felt as if his entire body was uncomfortable. After a long while, risking being fired, he asked: “Are you Zhou Sicheng?”

Xiang Zhen: “Yes, aren’t you friends?”

Fan Hao: “But my friends don’t send their wives a 52-yuan red packet for 520.”

From elementary school to university, he had never had a friend who became a stingy man after falling in love!

Zhou Sicheng’s entire body shook.

“It wasn’t… 5200?” This was the time CEO Zhou spoke with the least confidence.

Fan Hao: “I’m not blind; there’s a decimal point in the middle.”

Zhou Sicheng thought of a possibility and whispered to confirm: “Where did you see it?”

Fan Hao mocked: “Your wife posted it on WeChat Moments.”

Xiang Zhen said proudly: “Husband, I posted it on WeChat Moments.”

Zhou Sicheng saw darkness before his eyes. The world had collapsed.

He finally understood why his romantic rivals had suddenly sprung up like mushrooms after rain.

Because he had dropped the ball.

He, Zhou Sicheng, had made every man and woman feel: If he can do it, so can I.