The room was silent, completely cut off from the outside world.
Even though Lin Shen deliberately lowered his voice to almost a whisper, as if any quieter and the words would get swallowed back into his throat, Lu Chengxuan could still catch every single thing he said.
Yet, despite hearing it so clearly, Lu Chengxuan suddenly froze, a flicker of doubt crossing his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.
Lin Shen felt something he hadn’t in years—maybe since he was a kid just weaned—this raw, unguarded urge to put his inner feelings out there.
But laying his vulnerable self bare, showing his soft flesh to earn someone else’s pity, it was painfully awkward. That one short sentence he had just spoken felt foreign, even uncomfortable, as if he were wearing someone else’s tongue.
‘Please…’ ‘Cheer me up…’ ‘I’m in a bad mood…’
Lines like these, Lin Shen would hear Lin Wangye say all the time—three or four times a week.
To Xu Suinian, to himself.
Even in front of Lu Chengxuan, Lin Wangye could say them without thinking, adding that teasing, prideful tone.
Back then, it didn’t feel weird at all.
But now, hearing the same words come out of his own mouth, Lin Shen felt a twist of regret all the way down to his gut.
If only words could be recalled like a message sent online, he would have hit ‘undo’ in an instant, pretending nothing had happened.
He was seriously allergic to this kind of sentimental crap.
Lu Chengxuan only looked slightly dazed for a moment, and Lin Shen already regretted it, wishing he could rip out his own vocal cords and hang them somewhere.
“Let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything,” he blurted, heat flushing his whole body, fire seeming to burn on his head. He spoke fast, dropping a rushed explanation, avoiding Lu Chengxuan’s gaze, desperate to flee.
But the guest room upstairs had only two beds and a nightstand, and with Lu Chengxuan blocking the stairs, there was nowhere to run.
Not a single chance to escape.
The moment he turned, Lu Chengxuan grabbed his arm.
Human palms shouldn’t feel this hot.
But Lin Shen felt his wrist to elbow burn like fire under Lu Chengxuan’s grip.
Knowing there was no smooth way out, he gave up, reverting to his usual defensive mode and snapping back, shoving Lu Chengxuan’s hand away with force and a haughty tone, raising his voice.
“Why are you pulling me? I’m already annoyed today—stop looking for trouble!”
Lu Chengxuan hadn’t grabbed him that hard, but Lin Shen went all out just to set a boundary. The result? Lu Chengxuan had to let go, and Lin Shen’s fingers hit the stair railing with a loud ‘clang.’
“Shit!”
Cold sweat broke out immediately.
The sharp pain made him drop all pretense, scalp tingling, flailing his wrists in the air instinctively. Once he recovered a little, he grabbed his hand, bending over in pain.
Those few seconds of back-and-forth caught Lu Chengxuan completely off guard.
As Lin Shen bent over, clutching his hand, Lu Chengxuan reacted instantly. He guided him to the space between the two beds, switched on the bright lights from the control panel hidden behind the nightstand, and carefully grabbed Lin Shen’s wrist to check.
His fingers had banged against the metal stair railing.
The tip of the middle finger was slightly red, but the bones and joints weren’t hurt.
Seeing that it wasn’t serious, Lu Chengxuan let out a small sigh of relief and went downstairs. When he came back, he had a bottle of ice-cold purified water and a cup in his hands.
Lin Shen watched him twist open the bottle, pour half a cup of water, and then hold his wrist, placing the finger into the ice water.
The cold hit instantly.
Lin Shen made an international ‘friendly’ gesture and dunked his middle finger in, and soon enough, the pain faded.
Lu Chengxuan had been holding back, but seeing his expression improve, he finally spoke.
“When are you going to stop being so reckless?”
Hearing the gentle reproach, Lin Shen’s temper flared instantly:
“Do you think I want to be like this? Would it kill you if you didn’t pick at me?!”
Lu Chengxuan knew better than to argue when Lin Shen was like this. To avoid making it worse, he stayed quiet.
Once things calmed down, their brains started replaying what had just happened.
They both silently reviewed the events with unspoken coordination.
Lin Shen’s anger evaporated immediately; he went quiet.
Lu Chengxuan, however, lowered his head, deep in thought, unsure how to respond to the words, ‘Cheer me up.’
This was the first time Lin Shen had ever asked for something like this since they met.
The problem was, despite his privileged upbringing, Lu Chengxuan—well-traveled and knowledgeable far beyond most his age—had never actually learned how to comfort someone.
Lin Shen, in the past, had never asked for this, whether he was upset or angry. Most of the time, his ‘requests’ were just to forbid conversation.
Lu Chengxuan’s biggest strength was that he never let his high social status make him act superior. He admitted when he didn’t know something, and then he asked, proactively.
He looked at Lin Shen seriously and asked:
“How should I cheer you up?”
The question made Lin Shen suck in a sharp breath, his scalp tingling as if struck by lightning. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he swallowed, silently comparing his middle finger to the water in the cup.
He had to be crazy to have said that earlier.
Acting cute or weak? That was not his lane.
Sweet talk? Lu Chengxuan wasn’t exactly good at that either.
It was like someone who can’t stand green onions insisting on ordering a bowl of scallion oil noodles—without the scallions, of course.
Not only did it gross themselves out, but it also made the poor chef’s job that much harder.
“Don’t ask me.” Lin Shen forced himself to suppress the deep-rooted embarrassment, gritting his teeth as he said, “People who know don’t need to be taught; people who don’t, won’t learn even if you try.”
That line—“People who know don’t need to be taught; people who don’t, won’t learn even if you try”—only made Lu Chengxuan more curious.
But Lin Shen clearly showed he didn’t want to elaborate.
There’s always an intention behind every request.
Lu Chengxuan didn’t push. He lowered his gaze in silence, carefully weighing the meaning behind Lin Shen’s words. Using what he knew of Lin Shen’s personality and recent events, he gradually started to piece things together.
“About separating from the branch company, your decision was sound.” Lu Chengxuan analyzed seriously. “Over the years, many of your family’s industries haven’t done exceptionally well—at best, they’re average. Cutting ties quickly won’t cost much and lets you clearly separate from those who don’t respect you. Those five commercial centers had issues with location, management, and business models. With online shopping continuing to grow, they’ll only lose more over time. Cutting ties is better. Honestly, if it were me, I probably wouldn’t handle it any better than you did.”
He glanced at Lin Shen, noticing the slight tilt of his head, thinking he might not have explained enough. After a brief pause, he continued:
“It’s not that bad. Many investors in the Lin family have been in for years; they won’t pull out so quickly. There’s still room for negotiation. You just need to stall them a bit, wait for the bidding results, and if Lin Hong wins, things will basically be secure. Of course, it’ll be tough for a while, unavoidable, but you can get through it. After that…”
“Lu Chengxuan.”
Lin Shen finally couldn’t hold it in. He interrupted, taking his hand out of the cup, shaking off the water, and drying it. With a resigned sigh, he said:
“I asked you to cheer me up, not give a business lecture.”
The pointed remark made Lu Chengxuan realize he had misunderstood.
He didn’t resist or get frustrated at the misstep; instead, he fell silent and started thinking in a new direction.
Watching Lu Chengxuan try to solve the emotional problem of ‘how to cheer someone up’ with pure logic and theory, Lin Shen couldn’t help feeling a strange twinge of pity.
Because he suddenly realized how much someone’s thinking is shaped by their upbringing. A child raised being comforted would naturally understand what it means to cheer someone up.
Lin Shen knew he and Lu Chengxuan were different from the very beginning.
No matter what came later, he had grown up surrounded by love.
His mother had always loved him deeply, and even though Lin Pengcheng had changed completely after reaching a high position, he had once been a good father.
And Lu Chengxuan… there was no doubt he was exceptionally talented.
He had been raised to need nothing from emotions—no one to care for him, no one to soothe him. His thinking was entirely rational.
Even if he wavered, the outcome always ended the same.
Lin Shen knew this relationship had been a deadlock from the very beginning.
But in this utterly dark, lost, and hopeless moment of his life, watching the awkward, clumsy attempts and thoughts of the person in front of him was hard not to be moved by.
“Lu Chengxuan…”
His voice was slightly hoarse as he spoke. He picked up the bottle of purified water from the nightstand, took a sip, and when he set it back, he casually turned off the light, murmuring softly, “When Xiao Lin isn’t happy, haven’t you seen how Xu Suinian cheers him up? Sometimes you don’t even need to say that much.”
The two single beds were close, and they sat facing each other across the narrow aisle, yet neither looked at the other.
Hearing this, Lu Chengxuan immediately lifted his head, suddenly understanding something.
But Lin Shen realized that his words had been too blunt, too bare, leaving no chance for Lu Chengxuan to act. He quickly threw back the covers, lay down, and buried himself under the blankets as if he’d only been giving a demonstration of how to comfort Lin Wangye.
He forced his racing heart to slow and kept his tone steady.
“Good night.”
He finished speaking and didn’t wait for Lu Chengxuan’s response. After the exhausting day, the moment his head hit the pillow, all the fatigue washed over him like a tidal wave, and sleep came crashing in almost instantly.
Some time later, on the verge of sleep, Lin Shen felt the edge of the mattress dip slightly.
Half-awake, half-asleep, his mind wasn’t quick to process it.
He slowly opened his heavy eyelids, about to turn his head, when he suddenly felt a warm presence over him. A careful, gentle hand traced through his hair, sending tingles down his spine, carrying a sense of calm and safety.
Before losing consciousness, a deep voice whispered into his ear:
“Good night. Sweet dreams.”
Hello, everyone ヾ(＾∇＾). I hope you enjoyed the story! If you’re feeling generous, please buy me a coffee, share/comment on my translated works! Check out the link below for early chapters. (๑>ᴗ<๑)
