Chapter 272: This Life—The Beginning (XIII)

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Chapter 272: This Life—The Beginning (XIII)

Shang Ke opened his eyes in a haze and found himself lying in bed, naked beneath the covers, his entire body sore and weak. A head was buried against his chest, soft hair hiding most of the man’s face. Hot, steady breaths swept across his skin, sending faint tingles through him.

“Awake?” Wei Xun unconsciously nuzzled the side of Shang Ke’s neck, his voice carrying the lazy satisfaction of a man thoroughly sated.

Remembering their madness in the car, Shang Ke’s face heated. His integrity had been left behind somewhere hundreds of kilometers back; from now on, he no longer had the face to pretend he was some untouchable flower on a high peak.

“Keke.” Wei Xun draped one hand over his waist and lightly bit his ear.

Shang Ke did not want to move, did not want to talk to him, and only wanted to crawl under the blankets and quietly cease to exist.

Wei Xun looked at the warm bundle in his arms, satisfaction nearly overflowing from him and rippling softly through his heart.

Just as Wei Xun was deciding whether to spend the entire day holding Shang Ke in bed or get up, eat something, and then spend the entire day holding Shang Ke in bed, someone knocked outside. A bodyguard’s voice followed: “Master Xun, it’s almost nine. You were scheduled to visit the Old Master today.”

Old Master Wei had suffered a sudden stroke not long ago and was recuperating at a hot-spring estate. Although he had not formally stepped down, a transfer of power was imminent, and the identity of the next successor would directly affect the Wei family’s stability for more than a decade. Wei Xun was neither the eldest son nor a politician, but with the Wei name over his head, there were some matters he simply could not avoid.

Wei Xun’s expression darkened slightly. He kissed Shang Ke on the head. “I need to go out. I may not be back today. The housekeeper is next door. If you want anything to eat, call her and let her make it. Don’t busy yourself. Rest properly.”

Only after hearing Shang Ke agree did Wei Xun get out of bed, wash up, dress, and open the bedroom door.

The bodyguard stood respectfully outside. His gaze followed the trail of scattered clothes on the floor and, almost against his will, drifted toward the large bed inside. The person on the bed had pushed himself halfway upright, still caught between sleep and wakefulness. The silky blanket had slipped to his waist, and his pale skin seemed to glow like jade against the deep blue bedding. One glimpse of that languid beauty made the bodyguard’s heart tremble. Only two words remained in his mind: absolute menace.

“What are you looking at?” A cold voice shattered the bodyguard’s wandering thoughts, followed by the heavy slam of the door.

The bodyguard immediately lowered his head and did not dare entertain another stray thought.

Wei Xun shot him a warning look and strode away.

He was gone for several days. Shang Ke did not particularly mind and simply buried himself in the laboratory to continue his research.

Their relationship entered a hazy, half-defined stage of romance, with text messages and calls every day. Wei Xun grew busier and busier, while Shang Ke devoted most of his energy to debugging and producing the first batch of robots. Wei Xingye was occupied with political maneuvering and no longer had time to make trouble for Shang Ke.

One year later, the pet robots Shang Ke had developed officially entered the market. The first limited release consisted of five thousand units, each sold at a promotional price of 880,000 yuan with A-grade intelligence. Unit One itself was SS-grade. The mass-market pet robots planned for later release would be C-grade, with an average price of 100,000 yuan. Customized models above B-grade and below S-grade were also available; an S-grade custom robot would cost at least fifteen million yuan, with annual production limited to no more than fifteen units.

Wei Xun organized promotional demonstrations in more than a dozen countries. The new intelligent robots had already attracted global attention, and the first release sold out immediately. Before long, videos of pet robots began appearing across major websites. Their demonstrated intelligence drove viewers wild, and the internet was soon flooded with robot content.

【I’m terrible at games. Even though my family is loaded and my equipment is absurdly overpowered, I still couldn’t beat the two idiots next door. Then I spent two months of allowance on a little pet robot, and this salted fish finally flipped over and took revenge. With my grudges settled and my sleeves brushed clean, my little pet and I have achieved a blissful marriage. Time to start showing off our love…】

【Ever since Alice arrived, my housekeeper has become unemployed, my golden retriever has fallen out of favor, my daily routine has normalized, my hobbies have changed, and my character has been elevated. Mom never has to worry again that my habit of throwing money around and acting outrageously generous won’t manage to trap any friends.】

【So what if yours can play games? My pet knows six languages, answers calls, sends texts, scans viruses, searches Baidu, gives massages, picks locks, and even knows how to swear!】

Most buyers in the first A-grade batch were wealthy socialites or popular internet personalities, people with enormous persuasive reach. The videos they posted pushed enthusiasm for the robots to a fever pitch within only a few weeks.

It was easy to imagine what kind of buying frenzy would erupt once C-grade pet robots officially entered the mass market.

The pet robots hit game companies hardest. Existing game programs simply could not compete with the robots’ intelligence. Unless companies rapidly redesigned game systems and increased difficulty, they faced devastating disruption. Their only consolation was that pet robots still could not be mass-produced in truly enormous quantities.

But there was no denying that the technology possessed by Wei Xun’s RT Intelligence company would have a massive impact on every related industry and might even accelerate the entire pace of technological change.

Shang Ke was not worried about his career. The person who truly troubled him was Qi Chen.

Wei Xun protected Shang Ke so thoroughly that Qi Chen had no opportunity whatsoever to be alone with him. Several invitations were refused. Even when Shang Ke went to visit Qi Chen’s parents, he deliberately chose times that would not overlap with Qi Chen’s.

Shang Ke did not want to see him, but he also did not want their relationship to deteriorate completely, so for now he could only delay. Qi Chen possessed Wu Du’s memories and the System’s assistance. Provoking him would benefit no one.

Fortunately, Shang Ke had recently been consumed by robot development and had little time for intimacy with Wei Xun. Qi Chen’s side also appeared unusually quiet.

But the capital’s elite social circle was only so large, and rumors about Wei Xun and Shang Ke’s relationship gradually began circulating among a small number of people. A wealthy young master keeping a few lovers was hardly news, but Wei Xun’s identity was too sensitive. Relationships with women would raise no concern; an ambiguous relationship with another man was an unmistakable scandal.

“Mr. Shang, this is an invitation from Madam Wei. She sincerely hopes you will honor her with your presence tonight.” A middle-aged man in a tailored suit politely presented the invitation.

Shang Ke opened it. The host was Wei Xun’s mother, Song Mizhen, and the stated occasion was a private concert.

Inviting him specifically while Wei Xun was away on business made the hostile intent obvious. Although Shang Ke was Wei Xun’s business partner, his social position alone would not ordinarily qualify him for Song Mizhen’s private concert. But since the invitation had been sent, refusing outright was not practical.

Shang Ke carefully prepared himself and then traveled to Song Mizhen’s villa under bodyguard escort.

He had expected something, but the sight inside the hall still surprised him slightly. The magnificent room was filled entirely with elegantly dressed young women from prominent families. Shang Ke was the only young man present, making him particularly conspicuous.

Under the strange looks of the crowd, Shang Ke calmly walked up to Song Mizhen, bowed slightly, and politely thanked her for the invitation.

Song Mizhen assessed him without revealing the slightest disgust. Like a gracious noblewoman, she briefly introduced him to the room, then turned to Wang Qinya beside her. “Qinya, go get ready. You’re the star tonight. We’re all looking forward to your performance.”

Shang Ke understood immediately. Was Song Mizhen planning to use her beautiful, accomplished prospective daughter-in-law to slap the face of Wei Xun’s secret male lover?

Wang Qinya came from a prestigious family, possessed exceptional looks and figure, and had already earned a modest reputation as a pianist. Even among a room full of socialites, she stood out.

Wang Qinya sat at the piano and skillfully played classical pieces. Yet most of the people in the room—including Wang Qinya herself—were not truly focused on the performance. Their eyes repeatedly drifted toward Shang Ke in the corner.

Shang Ke remained serene, his gaze calm as water. He planned to act as a discreet wallflower with as little presence as possible, let them enjoy their spectacle, and then leave with style.

Shang Ke understood Song Mizhen perfectly. Her upbringing made crude insults beneath her, so she had chosen a refined method of humiliating him through social status and accomplishment instead.

What kind of scenes had Shang Ke not experienced by now? Tricks like this did not bother him in the slightest.

When several pieces had ended, enthusiastic applause filled the hall.

Song Mizhen then suggested that anyone interested could take the stage and display her own talents. Most of these young ladies had mastered at least one or two accomplishments and naturally performed with confidence.

Some played violin, some showed off high notes, some demonstrated tea ceremony, and others brought desserts they had made and discussed their cooking techniques.

Song Mizhen herself was the most striking. Whether violin, singing, tea ceremony, or cooking, she seemed proficient at nearly everything and drew endless praise from the guests.

Shang Ke kept his eyes lowered and dutifully played the role of a quiet, beautiful man. Unfortunately, as the single patch of green in a field of flowers, no amount of silence could prevent someone from eventually plucking him out.

Song Mizhen said, “Wei Xun appreciates art. I imagine a friend he values must possess talent in that area as well. Since everyone is enjoying themselves tonight, I wonder whether Mr. Shang would be willing to perform something for us?”

Wei Xun appreciates art? Madam, you must be joking.

Shang Ke smiled. “You flatter me, Madam. I’m only an ordinary technology geek. I really don’t know what I could do.”

“Don’t spoil the fun. We’ve all performed,” one girl urged. “Even singing a song would be fine.”

“Exactly.” The others chimed in eagerly.

Shang Ke checked the time and said to Song Mizhen, “Madam, it’s getting late. Once I’ve performed, would you permit me to take my leave first?”

Shang Ke met Song Mizhen’s eyes directly. His gaze was clear enough to make her slightly uncomfortable. In this setting, he had shown neither embarrassment nor anger nor nervousness. Instead, he had displayed unusual composure and refinement. By this point, whether he performed no longer truly mattered; from beginning to end, he had never given anyone the chance to humiliate him.

After receiving Song Mizhen’s permission, Shang Ke slowly rose, walked to the piano, lightly brushed his fingers across the keys, and began to play.

When he chose the piano, everyone initially assumed he was setting himself up for humiliation. The instant the music began, they realized how completely wrong they had been. Even someone who knew nothing about piano could hear the difference between Wang Qinya and Shang Ke. The former was talented. The latter had already developed an artistic voice entirely his own.

When the piece ended, Shang Ke bowed to the room, took his leave, and ignored the commotion behind him.

After leaving the villa, Shang Ke did not take the car. He walked alone along the quiet road instead, looking up at the star-filled night sky with a heart unexpectedly clear and peaceful.

Just then, the phone in his pocket rang. The moment he answered, Wei Xun’s slightly restrained voice came through. “Where are you?”

“On my way home.” As Shang Ke spoke, a car sped past him and abruptly stopped several hundred meters ahead. Wei Xun got out, phone still in hand, and stared from a distance at Shang Ke’s back.

“I heard my mother invited you to the villa?” Wei Xun followed behind him while continuing the call.

“Mm. She did.”

“Did she make things difficult for you?”

“No.” Shang Ke laughed. “It was actually pretty interesting.”

“Keke…”

“Mm?”

Shang Ke waited but heard nothing more, so he continued, “Wei Xun, no matter what you’ve heard, don’t overthink it. From the day you broke into my home, I stopped having any path of retreat. You’re overbearing, unreasonable, and far too fond of using your power to bully people. You rarely consider my feelings or position and keep leaving me to face all kinds of trouble and danger alone.”

“But…” Shang Ke laughed softly. “Do you know why, despite how much trouble you are, I’m still willing to stay beside you?”

“Why?”

“Because every time you look at me, you have the face of someone desperately starved for love. And if there’s one thing I have plenty of, it’s love.”

The instant the words left his mouth, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped tightly around him from behind.

“I’m sorry, Keke…”

And also: I love you. So deeply that I can no longer pull myself free.

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