Volume One, Chapter Twelve: Kept

“So?” Shen Chaowu asked curiously, “What do you mean?” Even if Jin Yao didn’t love Jiang Yao deeply yet, he must at least have some feelings for her. To eliminate Jiang Yao—such cold and ruthless words didn’t sound like something Jin Yao would say.

But Jin Yao offered no explanation. His lips curved into a faint, detached smile. “You don’t need to concern yourself with this.”

From his fiancée being hospitalized to a seafood allergy, behind every grievance there was always Jiang Yao’s shadow. In the past, Jin Yao wouldn’t have cared. But now—

He lowered his gaze, the girl's delicate, snow-pale face reflected in his eyes, where a dark and complicated emotion flickered behind an otherwise calm façade.

Jiang Yao, it seemed, held a leisurely, undemanding position at the Shen Group.

After Shen Chaowu left, Jin Yao studied Jiang Yao’s personal file and frowned. A woman of average looks, unremarkable background, and modest education, who after her father’s death, was suddenly elevated to the status of the Shen family’s second young lady.

For the sake of such an outsider, the real daughter was made to endure again and again. Had all three Shen brothers lost their minds?

Jin Yao rubbed his temples, a headache brewing. He simply couldn’t make sense of it.

…

Once outside, Shen Chaowu noticed a text from Fu Ming: [Miss Shen, I’ve thought it over. Do you have time to talk?]

She smiled, her red lips vivid and dazzling, as enchanting as rose petals bathed in morning dew, delicate and irresistible.

Fu Ming was handsome—compared to Jin Yao, his youth gave him a sharper, more untamed edge, a wildness that was difficult to rein in. That air of youthful recklessness was quite captivating.

But Shen Chaowu wasn’t interested. When it came to looks, whether Fu Ming or Jin Yao, neither could compare to that man from the Zhou family…

Lost in thought, she was startled by a sudden sound—the scrape of a bench across from her. A tall, slender youth sat down, carrying the chill of the rain with him. Fu Ming, dressed in a black windbreaker that seemed to absorb the night itself, appeared even more enigmatic, his lips strikingly red.

Shen Chaowu leaned forward slightly, offering a graceful smile. “Mr. Fu.”

A polite address.

Fu Ming raised an eyebrow, eyes fixed on her, a hint of mockery in his smile. “Do I really look that old to you?”

His long arm rested along the back of the bench. He had the kind of good looks that made even a careless pose seem striking. Just sitting there, he commanded attention—he had all the makings of a star.

Shen Chaowu’s smile widened. “Then, classmate Fu?”

Fu Ming replied with amusement, “I dropped out after middle school.”

Her polite smile nearly faltered. The corner of her mouth twitched. “Then… Comrade Fu?”

He remained acerbic. “What is this, the educated youth movement of the seventies?”

Shen Chaowu hadn’t expected Fu Ming to be so difficult, prickly all over. She gave up and called him by his full name, “Fu Ming, will that do?”

He responded with a lazy “Mm.”

With one hand in his pocket, Fu Ming toyed with a gold-embossed business card, fingertips growing warm. His gaze, however, was openly defensive.

After he’d returned home, he’d looked into Shen Chaowu’s background. The private details of the wealthy were well-guarded, not easy to uncover. But with her connection to Jin Yao and her youthful, striking beauty, there could be no mistake—she had to be Jin Yao’s mysterious fiancée, the eldest Miss Shen.

Whatever vague, indescribable feelings he’d harbored dissipated instantly.

Fu Ming clasped his hands on the table, a guarded gesture. “My reason for asking you here is simple. I want to know if what you said the other day still stands.”

“Of course.” Shen Chaowu answered, “I saw a video of you playing piano. You’re very gifted.”

His technique might not match Shen Hanchuan’s, but he had a certain flair.

She was more than willing to give him an opportunity—to let him take the wind out of her second brother’s sails.

“A practice room, a piano,” she slid a key across to him, her eyes lowered, “and a piano teacher.”

“You can come by any time.”

Fu Ming was just reaching for the key when a soft, snow-white hand pressed down on it. He raised his eyebrows, puzzled.

Shen Chaowu smiled. “Wait. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. You’ll have to agree to one condition first.”

Of course. This woman had an agenda!

Fu Ming’s smile turned mocking—he’d guessed right from the start. But it was hardly surprising. With his looks, he’d lost count of how many people in the entertainment industry had tried to exploit him—women and men alike.

He’d long suspected that Shen Hanchuan’s sister would be no better than the rest.

Fu Ming pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and held it between his lips, his handsome features tinged with sarcasm. “So, Miss Shen, your condition—is it that you want to keep me?”

His heart sank to rock bottom. She was no different from those who coveted his looks.

The youth’s smile sharpened, turning cold. “Have you checked the going rates? Someone like me—per month, it’ll cost…” He slowly spread five fingers, enunciating each word, “This much.”

Shen Chaowu was genuinely stunned. After a few seconds’ thought, she asked in disbelief, “That expensive?” Five million?

Fu Ming scoffed, “What did you expect? With this face, this figure, am I not worth the price?”

“...You are,” Shen Chaowu sighed. “For someone of your quality, five million is a bargain.”

A question mark flashed through Fu Ming’s mind. Five million?

If she’d actually offered five million—Fu Ming pressed his lips together—even he had to admit, he’d be tempted. No wonder so many male stars were willing to be kept; the benefits were obvious.

He shook off the thought. Shen Chaowu had a fiancé; no matter how little pride he had left, he wouldn’t stoop to being her lover.

Expression stiff, Fu Ming corrected her. “...Not five million. Five thousand.”

He was dead broke! That wretched company only made the ox work, never fed it. He couldn’t even scrape together a thousand yuan, let alone afford a piano…

Shen Chaowu was taken aback. So keeping a pretty boy was this cheap.

Compared to that, Jin Yao seemed hardly worth it.

She shook her head with a laugh. “You’re overthinking it. That’s not my condition.”

Fu Ming’s mocking smirk faded, and though he felt relieved, he was also inexplicably disappointed. “You’re not trying to keep me?”

“I want you to outshine Shen Hanchuan.”

Outside, the rain drizzled on.

Her voice was clear and cool, her fox-like eyes reflecting an amber chill.

It was absurd—Fu Ming felt sure he was being played for a fool. “Are you crazy? Aren’t you Shen Hanchuan’s sister? Why would you have me go against your brother?”

“And besides,” he took a deep breath, “do you even know your brother’s stature in the piano world? I’m just an unknown newcomer—why are you so sure I can do it?”

Shen Chaowu smiled. “Don’t you want to try?”

Those words struck a chord deep inside Fu Ming.

He did want to try.