GBT Chapter 27

Jiao Bai felt a bone-chilling and sharp coldness, as if a snowflake had landed on his face, followed by another, two, and then a large flurry. He shivered.

“Damn, stop snowing already.”

The snow didn’t stop.

Adding to the discomfort, Shen Ji’s aggressively possessive aura continued to bind Jiao Bai.

It was a controlling, possessive, and unloving presence—just a dog marking its territory by peeing.

—*Whatever interests me must only look at me at all times. What I don’t want, even if I throw it away, others can’t have.*

This was the overbearing CEO from a dog-blood drama.

Jiao Bai looked at the account status. The old avatar was Pikachu wearing a pink custom jacket doing push-ups. He did them with one hand, looking at him after each one, so damn flirtatious. He was going to any length to attract his attention.

The new avatar showed a snowstorm with the north wind blowing, almost obscuring the mountain’s outline, desolate and depressing.

The two animated GIFs were flaunting their presence in front of Jiao Bai.

Jiao Bai was extremely annoyed. If the Shen family pushed him too hard, he wouldn’t wait for their activity levels to reach over 50. He would make a plan to retreat somewhere else for a while.

A person couldn’t suffocate from pent-up anger.

Suddenly, his arm was grabbed with force. Jiao Bai’s swear words reached his lips but were interrupted by Shen Ji: “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Shen Ji repeated, his tone laced with clear threat, warning, and…suppressed impatience.

Jiao Bai hadn’t moved or taken a step, yet the old thing was questioning him, clearly deducing his intention to slip away through some detail or micro-expression.

This wasn’t mind-reading; it was the sharp gaze and insight that all CEOs possessed—a buggy standard feature.

Actually, that thought was just a thought. Jiao Bai was only trying to catch his breath through fantasy. His bones hadn’t healed properly, so he couldn’t even run.

Jiao Bai wasn’t caught, he said irritably, “Getting the medicine box!”

“Go ahead,” Shen Ji said, snatching the postcard from his hand, tearing it in two, and throwing it away. “Don’t pick up any trash.”

As soon as Jiao Bai left, the atmosphere in the living room became rigid.

Shen Ji faced the balcony, smoking the cigarette down to the filter, bite marks visible on the end. He didn’t even know when he had bitten it.

He had been angered more times recently than in all the previous years combined.

The bastard who caused him this grief was still running around, continuing to test his limits.

“My two former classmates, one will soon be my stepmother, the other is imprisoned here by you.” A voice rang out in the living room, neither loud nor soft.

Shen Ji flicked the ash off his cigarette: “He’s gone, and your stutter is cured?”

Shen Er An pursed his lips. If he rehearsed his words in his mind several times, repeatedly reciting them, his stutter wouldn’t be so severe.

But he didn’t need to tell this person that.

“Jiao Bai is different from those who want to cling to you,” Shen Er An said, speaking smoothly, clearly having prepared the words for a long time and confirming them repeatedly.

Shen Ji returned to the living room, kicking aside any furniture blocking his path. He stood before his son, the scratches on his face ruining his imposing image: “Is it your place to interfere in my affairs?”

Shen Er An looked directly at the mainstay of the entire Shen family, the overlord of South City: “He doesn’t like you.”

The father and son were almost the same height.

Right now, one was cold, the other calm, and they couldn’t agree. This was the first time they had bared their claws for an outsider.

Unfortunately, the younger one’s claws hadn’t experienced real combat and were easily defeated.

While the older one didn’t even use ten percent of his attack power.

“Your father will give you a lesson today: all feelings are just dispensable condiments,” each word from Shen Ji carried the confidence and ruthlessness given by his rich experience, “In the adult world, only profit matters.”

Shen Er An moved his lips. His lip shape was inherited from his father, equally angular and thin. Only his were youthful and rosy, unlike his father’s, which were indifferent and merciless.

Forced by the situation, the young man’s soft lips uttered sharp words for the first time: “He has nothing to gain from you.”

If Jiao Bai were here, he would definitely be working hard to manage his expression while shaking his head in his heart: *No, no, he does. Activity points. I want activity points.*

But Jiao Bai wasn’t here.

Shen Ji lost the opportunity to observe him, and therefore couldn’t directly refute him.

“Whether he has or doesn’t have something to gain is between him and me. Who are you to him? Do you need to speak up here?” Shen Ji threw the cigarette butt on the ground, his domineering aura pressing down.

Shen Er An’s forehead itched a bit. He raised his hand to scratch, his fingertips touching the wound, sticky and disgusting.

“I only have two, friends.” A subtle change appeared in the calmness of Shen Er An’s world.

“That’s your own problem.” Shen Ji pointed at him, “With your personality, it’s a miracle those two friends of yours aren’t blind for associating with you.”

Shen Er An didn’t say a word.

Shen Ji wasn’t the type of incompetent father who needed to suppress his son to gain a sense of achievement. He waved his hand: “When you don’t need the Shen family for your food, clothing, and expenses, then come talk to me about your nonsense. Now, get out.”

Shen Er An didn’t get out; he stood still.

Anger welled up in Shen Ji’s breath. He had long forgotten Cheng Mountain in North City, forgotten the girl picking tea leaves in the tea garden, but every time he saw his son, it was like an old scar was poked, making him uncomfortable.

Especially the way his son lowered his eyes.

Shen Ji felt that the tea-picking girl would be the same in front of him. Both mother and son disgusted him.

His son’s existence was a constant reminder of how foolish he had been many years ago, actually drinking tea laced with drugs by a peasant girl, causing several irreversible accidents in his life.

Just as Shen Ji was about to kick him, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, frowned, and walked to the balcony to answer the phone.

Taking the opportunity, Jiao Bai peeked out of the room and waved to Shen Er An.

Meeting Jiao Bai’s anxious gaze, Shen Er An subconsciously walked towards him.

Shen Er An assumed that the scratches on his father’s face were from some mistress, never expecting they were from Jiao Bai. It wasn’t entirely unexpected; it was both surprising and within expectations.

Jiao Bai had hurt that person and was unscathed.

This special treatment came with a dog leash.

Shen Er An walked towards Jiao Bai, smoothing the hood of his hoodie.

Jiao Bai seized the opportunity to say, “Bend down and lower your head; let me see your injury.”

Shen Er An released the cherry pit he had been clenching until now, leaving deep red, dirty marks in his palm. He rubbed it with his fingertips, discovering a small cut he didn’t know he had.

On the balcony, Shen Ji faced away from the living room, capturing the interaction between the two youths in the reflection of the glass.

The phone call was from his old friend Chu Dong Shan: “Old Shen, what day are you getting married? I’ll make time to return home.”

Shen Ji: “Not getting married.”

“Just registering, right? In a sense, that counts as getting married. We’ll throw you a bachelor party.” Chu Dong Shan enthusiastically suggested, “How about a cruise? We can invite Old Qi and have him bring Little Zhang.”

Shen Ji wasn’t in the mood: “We’ll talk.”

Chu Dong Shan detected an abnormality. Did something stifle his old friend, causing endocrine imbalances? He suspiciously asked: “Old Shen, didn’t you have any action tonight?”

The glass reflected Shen Ji’s cold features: “I’m dealing with it.”

Chu Dong Shan joked enviously: “Not even taking a breather? You’re amazing.”

“Uncle, how much longer will you be on the phone? Hurry up, I’m about to fall asleep.”

A sweet, coquettish voice emerged from Chu Dong Shan’s side.

Shen Ji coldly chuckled.

That syllable was permeated with sourness.

Only because it was too bizarre did he himself not realize it, let alone his old friend.

Chu Dong Shan “ahem”ed: “I was just about to get busy when I suddenly remembered to call you. Little Li Zi doesn’t like air conditioning, and he’s not wearing clothes; he’s cold.”

That name reminded Shen Ji of something: “The little blond who tried to scam A Liao at the Onsen Resort last year?”

Chu Dong Shan awkwardly rubbed his nose. His partner had initially tried to seduce his brother without success. Later, when he got together with his partner, he brought it up, very jealous.

“What blond? His name is Li Zi, Chu Xiao Li,” Chu Dong Shan said helplessly, “Old Shen, your memory is terrible; I’ve mentioned it to you several times.”

Shen Ji remained noncommittal: “It’s been a while, haven’t gotten tired of him yet?”

“Tired my ass. My little friend and I are doing great.” Chu Dong Shan couldn’t hide the happiness in his voice, “This year, I plan to take him home to meet the old man.”

Shen Ji disapproved: “Just a plaything.”

Chu Dong Shan’s tone turned cold: “Old Shen, I’m serious this time.”

Shen Ji didn’t argue with him: “Then you can wait to have your legs broken by the old man.”

Chu Dong Shan reverted to his previous young master persona: “You wouldn’t understand. A little blood and tears are what make love.”

Love?

Shen Ji amusedly rubbed his temples. He might have experienced it in his younger, reckless days, with his first love.

The pitiful little girl he couldn’t remember the appearance of, who committed suicide by jumping into the river because of his son.

Shen Ji hung up the phone, squinting at the two children crouching by the bedroom door.

Jiao Bai was facing the balcony, able to see Shen Ji when he looked up, but he didn’t give him a single glance.

Not entering the room was to show the old guy something.

Jiao Bai wasn’t clear on what, but he deduced one thing: the old thing wanted to see his interaction with Shen Er An.

Pikachu had even raised a magnifying glass. Of course, he still wore the pink little jacket.

*Look, then look.*

Jiao Bai was quite calm. There was nothing shameful between him and Shen Young Master.

“Pull your hair up a bit,” Jiao Bai reminded the youth.

Shen Er An grabbed his bangs and pulled them back, revealing his calm, restrained eyebrows and the bloody wound. He lowered his eyes to look at Jiao Bai, who was cleaning his wound.

After a while, he abruptly said: “I want to fold a dragonfly.”

“Huh?” Jiao Bai was stunned for a moment, “Then fold it.”

Shen Er An looked at him.

Jiao Bai threw the dirty cotton ball into the trash and replaced it with a clean one: “What, you didn’t pack colored paper in your backpack?”

Shen Er An answered irrelevantly: “I only know how to fold a dragonfly.”

Jiao Bai: “…”

Life is a drama, and the director and screenwriter are all God. The plot has surprises and scares. There’s nothing the old man can’t film; it’s only things you can’t imagine.

For example, the scum gong from *Broken Wings* was squatting in front of him, in the posture of a lost little lamb.

Or how he died before the college entrance exam, on the road in front of his uncle’s house.

“Nonsense,” Jiao Bai said seriously, “You can also paint.”

Shen Er An’s voice was muffled: “The paintings, are bad.”

“Don’t be so self-deprecating, Shen Young Master, Shen classmate, school hunk, academic, handsome guy, look in the mirror, look at your perfect scores.” Jiao Bai paused, muttering, “When you reach your father’s age, you’ll stand even higher than him.”

After Shen Er An took control of Shen’s, the Qi, Liang, Chu, and Cen families all fell.

Even the Qi family withdrew from the competition, because Qi Yi Liao didn’t have the protagonist’s halo.

Jiao Bai thought back. The manga didn’t explain the conflicts between those families in detail, only detailing the roles played by the supporting characters led by Qi Shuang.

The author activated a time machine, directly showing a few years later, with Shen Er An appearing as the head of the Shen family.

After all, the manga was from Shen Er An’s point of view as the proper shou. The social relations of small characters didn’t involve business wars.

Jiao Bai blinked at Shen Er An, who was staring at him blankly.

Shen Er An looked at him steadily, very puzzled: “Why, do you think so?”

Jiao Bai aimed the spray at his wound, and before he could answer, he heard him say: “I don’t want to, do business.”

“I don’t like it.” Shen Er An rubbed his fingertips.

Jiao Bai’s eyes revealed countless manga readings and thousands of tons of dog-blood: of the ten scum gongs, half were born to cruise smoothly and feel justified in their scummery, while the other half experienced unhappy childhoods, repressed youth, and twisted growth periods.

Jiao Bai didn’t want to interfere too much with Shen Er An’s future.

“The achievement I’m talking about doesn’t only refer to the business world; it’s not limited to any field,” Jiao Bai said, “You can calm your mind, that’s the first step to success. Many people can’t do it.”

Shen Er An smiled briefly; Jiao Bai’s words of comfort sounded like a joke.

If he didn’t enter the business world, how could he compare with that person?

If he didn’t compare, how could he judge who stood higher?

Shen Er An asked: “You here, how are you?”

“It’s alright,” Jiao Bai said.

“Getting up, lying down, who helps you?”

Jiao Bai rummaged through the medicine box: “There’s a nurse; I just fired her today.”

“Lift your head.” Jiao Bai was quite skilled, not using Shen Young Master as an experiment. He had bumped and bruised himself countless times since he was little. His uncle, who drove a truck, wasn’t home, and his aunt didn’t care about him. He would just use whatever he had to deal with his injuries, messing around.

Shen Er An tilted his head back, still asking: “Then eating…”

Jiao Bai got up a bit, placing the gauze over his wound: “The auntie cooks, and the doctor prescribed medicinal diet, nutrient meals, etc., based on that.” It was terribly unappetizing, but he had to grit his teeth and eat it for his health.

The revolution hadn’t succeeded yet; good health and good teeth were what really mattered.

Shen Er An looked up at the person above him: “You didn’t go to school; your classes…”

“I’m fine.” Jiao Bai talked about how an old man gave him tutoring, which he solved with a few questions.

Shen Er An lowered his eyes.

Nurse, auntie, teacher, he could think of it, and that person thought of it and arranged it for Jiao Bai.

Shen Er An didn’t want Jiao Bai to be the first person to be treated that way by that person.

He hoped it wasn’t.

“Done.” Jiao Bai supported Shen Er An’s shoulders, slowly sitting on the ground, inadvertently raising his head and meeting the lazy gaze from the balcony.

The balcony was like a reclining lion.

Ready to swing its victorious claws at any time, tearing the prey apart.

Jiao Bai heard Shen Er An’s slightly stuttering whisper: “I brought you, notes.”

Jiao Bai: “…”

“Why do you always think about my studies, pulling me up,” Jiao Bai said, laughing and crying, “Compared to me, your buddy is the one you should be pulling up.”

“He, didn’t, save.” Shen Er An said.

Jiao Bai laughed loudly.

After laughing, he cried, uttering “Ouch” repeatedly.

On the balcony, Shen Ji flicked off the ash that had accidentally fallen in front of him, cursing: “Deserves it.”

Seeing his son supporting the little dog’s arm, their heads close together, his face immediately darkened.

Shen Ji even raised his foot, but put it back down.

*Look again.*

At the bedroom door, Shen Er An used a tissue to wipe away Jiao Bai’s tears, quietly asking, “The notes, do you want to see them?”

“No.” Jiao Bai shook his head; everyone had their own learning method, and Shen Er An’s wasn’t suitable for him.

Shen Er An disappointedly “oh”ed. Many people at school wanted to see his notes, but when he gave them to Jiao Bai, Jiao Bai didn’t want them.

“I don’t want to be in the top five or top ten in the whole school,” Jiao Bai said jokingly, “I just need to make sure my grades are stable within the admission score range for the ideal school for the past five years.”

Shen Er An took the dirty tissue from Jiao Bai’s hand, habitually folding it. He asked casually: “Then your ideal school, is where?”

“West City,” Jiao Bai said.

Shen Er An folded the tissue into a rhombus. Jiao Bai still hadn’t said the school’s name, so he raised his eyes slightly.

Jiao Bai was pulling on the drawstring of his hoodie, wanting it to be symmetrical on both sides.

Shen Er An continued to fold the tissue. After he unfolded the rhombus, folding out a little rabbit, he still didn’t hear Jiao Bai’s answer.

He wasn’t going to tell him.

Shen Er An crushed the little rabbit in his palm.

Jiao Bai pretended not to see Shen Er An’s disappointment. He didn’t say it because he wanted to see what the situation was at the time.

If, by the time he had to fill out the application next year, he had already put Shen Young Master into a separate group on his account, and Shen Young Master had been affected by the butterfly effect and become scummy ahead of time, then there would be no need to contact him again.

As a fan of *Broken Wings* who had followed every chapter, he was disgusted by this manga’s proper scum gong.

“Is my phone at the rental house?” Jiao Bai suddenly asked.

Shen Er An threw the crushed tissue into the trash: “Yes.”

“That’s good,” Jiao Bai didn’t ask anything else. He didn’t know if Zhang Zhen had looked for him on WeChat, and if he couldn’t find him, whether he would directly investigate his information.

“Oh yeah, when you called your father, he told you to come here, saying you knew the address. How did you know it?” Jiao Bai had a guess, but he didn’t want it to be that way.

But Shen Er An’s answer confirmed his suspicion.

“Tracking,” Shen Er An said.

Jiao Bai’s eyelid twitched. He was tracked and discovered. This was the complete result.

When Jiao Bai was in the hospital, Shen Er An said he had people he could use.

At the time, Jiao Bai didn’t think too much about it, but now he carefully chewed over the plot of *Broken Wings*. In the original work, Shen Er An had a powerful and terrifying black technology team that he used to deal with his father and sweep through the business world, using dirty and unethical methods. Now he was only a senior in high school, so that team shouldn’t be formed yet.

Even if it was formed, it was still a small, useless prototype.

The people Shen Er An could use were most likely…

Jiao Bai thought of one person. That person was a team member who always followed Shen Er An. He was his most trusted subordinate, and also a member of his mother’s family.

That’s right, the tea-picking girl, as the scum gong’s mother in a dog-blood BL manga, had a dog-blood identity.

The tea-picking girl was the illegitimate daughter of the Cen family in East City. The mother and daughter were harmed terribly by Madam Cen. She borrowed Shen Ji’s seed in order to take revenge, sending her child into the Shen family.

She wanted to let her child become the heir of Shen’s and then ruin the Cen family.

Rich families, dog-blood, sigh.

Jiao Bai focused, in the manga, the tool person Wang Chu Qiu had already died.

Therefore, everything that had happened since the “Di Ye” night was being driven by Jiao Bai.

Many plots had changed.

Jiao Bai took a deep breath. The teenage arc didn’t have a plot where Shen Er An had people track his father. Shen Er An’s connections shouldn’t be exposed at this time. Even if it couldn’t be called connections yet.

“Don’t do tracking like this again, nothing like that,” Jiao Bai covered his face with his hands, not letting Shen Ji on the balcony see his expression. His voice flowed from between his fingers, “Your father doesn’t care, but that doesn’t mean you’re necessarily safe. You’re about to become an adult, take it easy.”

Jiao Bai’s words had hidden meaning. Even if he didn’t say it explicitly, Shen Young Master could understand.

Shen Er An looked at Jiao Bai strangely and complexly.

Jiao Bai could understand Shen Er An’s surprise. He wasn’t particularly smart or scheming, but because 90% of dog-blood mangas had rich families as the backdrop, he hadn’t eaten pork, but he’d seen pigs run in groups.

Shen Ji walked into the living room. The phone rang again, from the same person as before. He answered and cursed: “Are you finished, or do you want me to hear the live performance?”

Chu Dong Shan: “…”

Damn, Old Shen was really starved. Someone who casually picked bed partners was actually starving.

There was a situation.

Chu Dong Shan suppressed his gossipy heart and got down to business: “Old Shen, I just called Little Zhang. One of his subordinates answered, saying he’s in the hospital.”

Shen Ji frowned: “Hospital?”

“Yeah,” Chu Dong Shan said, “He’s still unconscious. I’ll return home tomorrow. Old Qi’s right-hand man is down, so he must be a mess.”

Shen Ji scoffed; the Qi family’s situation had long been stable, so what waves could be made?

Despite thinking that, Shen Ji still made a call after ending the call with Chu Dong Shan: “A Liao, I heard from Dong Shan about Little Zhang. How was he injured?”

On the other end, Qi Yi Liao had just left the hospital. He answered the phone in the car, his tone very tired: “He protected a child who ran into the road.”

Shen Ji: “…”

He laughed as if he had heard something funny, his voice cold: “You should help Little Zhang get rid of that kindness.”

Qi Yi Liao lowered the car window to catch the wind. The gentleness in his eyes was covered by the cold winter air, so it couldn’t be seen: “That’s something in his bones. How can I get rid of it? Let him keep it.”

Shen Ji didn’t express any more opinions on this matter, after all, Little Zhang was A Liao’s knife, not his: “What did the hospital say?”

Qi Yi Liao pinched the bridge of his nose: “He injured his head; he’s recovering.”

Shen Ji said: “Dong Shan is returning home tomorrow. As for me,” he glanced at the little dog by the bedroom door, “I’ll go over tomorrow night.”

“Don’t arrange anyone for me.” Shen Ji said, “I’ll bring someone.”

Shen Ji put the phone in his pocket. He strode through the living room, walking towards the bedroom to the north.

Although he didn’t care about outside voices and didn’t care about worldly opinions, he didn’t like his son being stuck between him and his little dog.

It was an eyesore.

Now that he had confirmed that there wasn’t that thing he was thinking about mixed in, it saved him from having to dig it out bit by bit and crushing it.

Since they were just pure, good friends, then let them be.

How rare.

Shen Ji scooped up the little dog from the ground: “I’ve made arrangements for you to go to the hospital for a checkup tomorrow morning.”

At the end, he said to his son: “You’re coming along.”

The atmosphere was very strange.

Jiao Bai had a very bad premonition. That horror of the old thing wanting to use Shen Er An to trap him came out again.

And it was several times stronger than the last time.

Jiao Bai didn’t even know when Shen Er An left. When he came back to his senses, he was lying in bed, covered with a warm blanket, his nose filled with…

A strong smell of tobacco.

The first thing Jiao Bai did after he became an adult was to buy cigarettes and smoke them. He craved tobacco a little bit, but he didn’t like the cigarettes that the old thing smoked; they were too domineering.

“Can’t you go sleep somewhere else?” Jiao Bai pulled at the blanket.

“Somewhere else?” Shen Ji sneered in the dark, “Inside your body?”

Jiao Bai rolled his eyes. Pikachu was starting a new round of push-ups. He didn’t want to say anything anymore.

But,

“Why did you get into bed without showering?” Jiao Bai said, beyond endurance.

“I’ll shower after you fall asleep. The bed will be changed tomorrow,” Shen Ji’s alcohol had worn off; he wasn’t sleepy, but he just didn’t want to move. He only wanted to lie here for now: “If you say one more word, you’ll go sleep outside the front door.”

Jiao Bai: “…”

It was late at night, and Jiao Bai didn’t have the energy to fight. He was very sleepy. He pulled the blanket even harder, pulling it all onto himself.

Shen Ji didn’t childishly pull it back. He put his hands behind his head, lying flat next to the little dog, and closed his eyes.

When Jiao Bai woke up, Shen Ji’s figure was gone from the bedside. The auntie smiled at him, like an old nanny in the palace congratulating the master on finally being favored.

“The Mr left around six.” The auntie waited for Jiao Bai to get up and pulled off the duvet cover, discovering it wasn’t dirty. She then checked the sheets and the trash, and then she revealed the disappointment of “how could the master not succeed in serving.”

Jiao Bai speechlessly went to wash up, not paying attention to the auntie’s unspoken words all morning.

When it was almost eight o’clock, Shen Er An came over. When the auntie saw his overly outstanding appearance, she guessed his identity. She thought that Bai Bai was still more powerful than others, actually able to get along with his sugar daddy’s child.

Jiao Bai and Shen Er An went out under the auntie’s gaze of sending her child to school. Chen Yi Ming was waiting downstairs and opened the car door as soon as he saw them.

Shen Ji didn’t come; his most obedient and most capable lackey came.

Jiao Bai didn’t have any energy on the way. It wasn’t that he suspected Shen Ji of stealing a kiss from him while he was asleep. It wasn’t necessary, the old guy had seen countless people and wasn’t a green youngster. He wasn’t any true love.

Jiao Bai was in a bad state because he was uneasy. He felt that a change was about to occur, but he couldn’t recall any clues even after repeatedly going over the manga’s plot.

When they arrived at the hospital, Chen Yi Ming didn’t go in; he waited in the car.

Jiao Bai was supported by Shen Er An as they walked into the building. They hadn’t reached the elevator when a rumbling sound came closer.

It stopped in front of Shen Er An’s feet.

It was a thermos.

Jiao Bai’s heart suddenly skipped a beat. This familiar, rustic style…

A thin figure broke into his view. His eyes immediately widened.

If *Broken Wings* wasn’t a manga, but a movie, then, now, the exclusive theme song for the two protagonists’ first encounter would play.

He came.

*Broken Wings*’s main shou, appeared.

[Your friend has logged on]

The assistant sent a reminder.

Jiao Bai looked at the youth standing in front of Shen Er An, slowly blinking.

In the manga, Jiao Bai’s original body lay in the morgue of this hospital. Li Jue came to collect the body and encountered Shen Er An, who was accompanying Liang Dong to the hospital, and fell in love with him at first sight.

Shen Er An had injured his face and head in a fall last night. Right now, he was wearing a mask and a hat, only revealing a pair of eyes, and Li Jue was stunned by them.

The butterfly effect had changed many things, but it hadn’t changed everything.

The gears of the plot had still turned to this position.

Now, at this moment, the main plot officially began.

“Xiao Qiu Gege? Is it really you!”

Li Jue’s delighted shout stunned Jiao Bai. He watched as the other party rushed towards him, his face changing again and again.

With the protagonist shou’s speed, his ribs couldn’t handle it.

“Sorry.”

Shen Er An said to the strange youth, and in a brother-protecting gesture, stood in front of Jiao Bai, pushing the other party away.

Li Jue fell to the ground on his butt. He was stunned, and his delicate face was instantly covered with embarrassment and helplessness, and his eyes turned red: “I…Xiao Qiu Gege…”

Jiao Bai took his hands out of his coat pockets.

Shen Er An, whose head was lowered, immediately looked over, thinking Jiao Bai was going to help the person on the ground.

Jiao Bai wasn’t. He was just fixing his bangs. The original owner cherished Li Jue in his heart, and if he were here, he would be extremely distressed, but he wasn’t the original owner.

“Xiao, Xiao Qiu Gege…” Li Jue’s voice was even smaller and more aggrieved.

“What are you shouting for? Can’t you get up yourself?” Jiao Bai put his hands back in his pockets.