Is This The Right Way To Repay A Favor? Chapter 89

Teaching

Jiang Zhou’s heart skipped a beat under that undisguised gaze. He instinctively wanted to look away but couldn’t tear his eyes off Shen Zhiyu. He could feel the surrounding staff noticing the blatant exchange of glances, curiously peeking in his direction following Shen Zhiyu’s line of sight.

The audience in the live stream also keenly sensed the subtle atmosphere, with the bullet comments eagerly asking who could possibly make Shen Zhiyu show such an expression.

Shen Zhiyu retracted his gaze, noticed the questions on the screen, and a doting smile spread across his eyes. He said softly, “He’s not ready yet.”

Dong Qianqian, standing nearby, looked at the heavily concealed figure and found him increasingly familiar. It wasn’t until the figure overlapped with the Jiang Zhou in her memory that she realized who it was.

After the fortune-telling segment ended, Dong Qianqian selected a few questions from the bullet comments for Shen Zhiyu to answer.

Shen Zhiyu was unusually open, not only admitting to his relationship during the live broadcast but also displaying the deep affection of someone madly in love, eager to show it off.

Before the live stream even ended, the topic #ShenZhiyuFoundTheLoveOfHisLife# had quickly topped the trending searches.

The moment the program recording concluded, Shen Zhiyu practically leaped off the sofa and walked straight toward Jiang Zhou.

“Finished with work?” He approached Jiang Zhou, his voice lowered, carrying an intimacy only the two of them understood.

“Mhm.” Jiang Zhou responded, his eyes sweeping over the auxiliary camera still running not far away, signaling him to be mindful of the setting.

Shen Zhiyu acted as if he hadn’t seen it, instead leaning in slightly, pressing his luck, and whispering, “Did you hear? The tarot cards said I found… the love of my life.”

He enunciated the last four words with particular clarity, his voice carrying a soul-stirring magnetism.

Jiang Zhou’s ears felt hot, but he forced himself to remain calm, glancing at him. “You actually believe in that?”

Shen Zhiyu chuckled softly. Although he knew Jiang Zhou was changing the subject, he was in an exceptionally good mood. “Of course, I believe it.”

His fingertip quickly and lightly brushed the back of Jiang Zhou’s hand hanging by his side. “Anything related to you, I believe.”

It was only a fleeting touch, but the sensation of the warm fingertip on his skin was like a faint electric current, shooting straight to Jiang Zhou’s heart.

“Do you still have things to do?” Shen Zhiyu looked into his eyes, his gaze burning.

Jiang Zhou met his gaze, reading a certain fervent desire in his eyes.

Jiang Zhou glanced out the window—blue skies, white clouds, and bright sunshine.

He cleared his throat lightly and whispered, “Public indecency in broad daylight, isn’t that a bit much?”

Shen Zhiyu immediately burst into laughter, then deliberately put on an innocent expression. “I didn’t mean that. But if CEO Jiang wants to, I’m not unwilling to cooperate.”

Jiang Zhou glared at him and turned to leave.

Shen Zhiyu, however, grabbed his arm and, without explanation, quickly led him out of the studio.

As soon as they reached the 26th floor, Shen Zhiyu impatiently pulled Jiang Zhou over and pressed him onto the sofa.

Jiang Zhou hadn’t yet recovered from the brief dizziness when Shen Zhiyu leaned over him, his fingertips lightly and repeatedly rubbing Jiang Zhou’s reddened earlobe.

Jiang Zhou’s breathing was slightly ragged. “Didn’t you say you didn’t want to? What is Teacher Shen doing now?”

“CEO Jiang has a request, I wouldn’t dare disobey.” Shen Zhiyu removed his hat and kissed him through his mask.

Then he asked, “How many times was it?”

Jiang Zhou mistakenly thought he was asking about the number of times he needed to repay him double. “Didn’t I finish paying you back the day before yesterday?”

After settling the last time the day before yesterday, Shen Zhiyu had indulged himself and been particularly rough. As a result, Jiang Zhou’s legs were so weak the next day he could barely stand.

Fortunately, Shen Zhiyu had some conscience and hadn’t bothered him for the past two days.

“Not that.” Shen Zhiyu’s fingertips still lingered near his ear, his gaze deep.

A warm sensation pressed against him, and Jiang Zhou couldn’t help but let out a slight, trembling moan. “What is it then?”

“The number of times you secretly visited me on set.” Shen Zhiyu’s voice was muffled as he playfully teased his earlobe, his fingertips tracing the lines of his pale collarbone.

“I, I forgot.” Jiang Zhou’s breathing began to quicken.

“How can you remember?” Shen Zhiyu’s fingertip slid down, brushing past his collar, pressing lightly between his collarbones, and he asked in a low, tempting voice,

“Can this help?” He seemed to lose patience, his warm lips moving along the curve of Jiang Zhou’s ear, his breath moist and clingy.

Jiang Zhou trembled all over, his mind buzzing, almost unable to think.

“No—”

“Is it your memory that’s failing, or your body?” The warm breath swept past his ear, spreading to the corner of his eye, his voice low and grinding.

“Can’t, can’t remember…” Jiang Zhou’s voice broke into fragments.

“Then your body must be fine.” Shen Zhiyu lightly kissed his eyes, then suddenly increased the pressure. Jiang Zhou jolted violently, his words dissolving into gasps.

The messy breaths were trapped inside the mask, hot and humid. He instinctively reached out to pull it off, but Shen Zhiyu pressed his hand down.

Through the fabric, Jiang Zhou clearly felt his own hot, burning breath puffing against his palm.

“If you haven’t remembered, you’re not allowed to take it off.”

Jiang Zhou’s eyes were misty, the moisture clinging to his lashes, and a flush spread across the corners of his eyes.

“Can’t, can’t remember…” Jiang Zhou said haltingly, his expression delicate and helpless.

Shen Zhiyu stared at him for a moment and felt a tickle in his throat, an itch that instantly and silently spread throughout his body.

“Can’t remember?” His voice turned hoarse. “Then I’ll help you recall, little by little.”

Shen Zhiyu kissed away the moisture at the corner of his eye, his breath scorching. “Was it the time at Guangyu Studio?”

“Yes.” Jiang Zhou had just nodded when he winced and whimpered due to the sudden increase in pressure from the other man’s hand, quickly changing his answer. “No—”

“Naughty.” Shen Zhiyu pulled him, turning him around.

There was a soft tearing sound as the scarf was pulled away. Jiang Zhou looked back and saw Shen Zhiyu pulling off the long blue checkered scarf from around his neck.

Jiang Zhou’s scalp tingled slightly. His will was resistant, but his body honestly began to develop a subtle itch and a hidden excitement.

“Was it or wasn’t it?” Shen Zhiyu wrapped his hands behind his back, loosely binding them with the scarf, pressing them against his waist.

“It was, it was.” Jiang Zhou no longer dared to be stubborn, his voice impossibly soft.

“Good. Then that’s one time.” Warm breath pressed against the back of Jiang Zhou’s neck. As the exhaled air swept past, it triggered a shiver.

“That night at Fangxing Mall, was that it?”

“Yes.” Jiang Zhou’s voice was muffled against the edge of the sofa.

“That’s the way to be good.” Shen Zhiyu kissed the back of his neck as a reward, then proceeded to meticulously list every event and every shoot Jiang Zhou had attended since signing with Languang Media.

Under his guidance, Jiang Zhou confirmed each one with a trembling voice, every answer feeling like he was surrendering himself.

Finally, Shen Zhiyu chuckled softly. “Thirteen times.”

Jiang Zhou instantly became sensitive to the number, a faint panic rising in his heart.

Sure enough, he then heard Shen Zhiyu whisper close to his ear, his voice low and seductive, “You owe me thirteen acts of repayment.”

Repayment!

These two words were like a stone thrown into a still lake, suddenly stirring up layers of memories.

Every detail of Shen Zhiyu’s so-called “teaching” on repayment flooded back into Jiang Zhou’s mind. His entire ear turned completely red, the heat spreading down to the side of his neck.

It was a week after returning from filming in the mountains when Jiang Zhou couldn’t resist secretly visiting Shen Zhiyu on set again. He was there for less than five minutes before Shen Zhiyu spotted him and dragged him straight into his room.

He was pressed against the door, his eyes hazy with confusion, still processing what was happening.

Shen Zhiyu’s fingertips lightly brushed the collarbone beneath his slightly open shirt, his eyes deep, like they were steeped in ink.

“A three-star Michelin food truck.” Shen Zhiyu raised an eyebrow slightly. “Is CEO Jiang here to repay me again?”

Jiang Zhou nodded instinctively. “Mhm, Teacher Shen, please eat more.”

“But that’s not right,” Shen Zhiyu sighed softly.

Jiang Zhou looked up blankly.

The other man suddenly leaned in, his warm breath brushing past Jiang Zhou’s ear, every word clearly striking his heart.

“Repayment must be done with the body. Does CEO Jiang not even know this?”

Jiang Zhou froze completely.

Shen Zhiyu’s fingertip slowly slid from his collarbone to his shoulder and neck, carrying an almost scrutinizing appraisal. Then, he sighed slightly with a look of regret, his expression showing a kind of helpless yet patient “good person” demeanor, as if instructing an uninitiated student.

“You really don’t know?” His tone carried a seductive, guiding quality. “In that case… it seems I’ll have to put in some effort and teach you myself.”

Before the words finished, the hand that had been braced on the door slid down to embrace Jiang Zhou’s waist. At the same time, he lowered his head and precisely captured his lips.

Teacher Shen’s repayment lesson began with a kiss that was forceful yet deeply lingering.

He was extremely patient, unhurried, slow, and deep. Every subtle breath and light sweep of his teeth was deliberately slowed down, as if guiding him on how to respond.

When the kiss ended, both of them were breathing unevenly.

Jiang Zhou’s eyes were moist, veiled with a moving mist, and his lips glistened with water.

“That’s the first step. Did CEO Jiang learn it?” Shen Zhiyu’s voice was terribly hoarse, carrying a seductive quality. “Now, it’s time for the student to submit homework.”

He pulled back slightly, giving Jiang Zhou a little space, his eyes burning as he stared at him, filled with encouragement and an expectation that brooked no retreat.

Jiang Zhou’s heart pounded wildly; all the blood in his body seemed to be surging. He looked at the thin lips so close to him, still glistening with ambiguous moisture. His mind was blank, only Shen Zhiyu’s phrase “submit homework” remained.

He closed his eyes, as if making a huge decision, finally gathering his courage. He tilted his face up and actively pressed his lips against Shen Zhiyu’s, tentatively mimicking the other man’s previous actions.

“Very good.” Shen Zhiyu let out a suppressed sigh from his throat, then, as a reward, lowered his head and affectionately rubbed his lips against Jiang Zhou’s twice.

He released his hold on Jiang Zhou’s hands, instead cupping the back of his neck, gently yet inescapably deepening the kiss that Jiang Zhou had initiated, skillfully guiding him to gradually follow his rhythm.

Jiang Zhou let out a faint whimper, instinctively leaning in a little closer.

When the kiss ended again, Jiang Zhou was practically melting in his arms.

Shen Zhiyu looked at the sight of him, molded by his own hands, his eyes filled with an intense, undiluted possessiveness and satisfaction.

He lowered his head, rubbing his high nose bridge against Jiang Zhou’s flushed cheek, his voice muffled and sensual. “Next, Lesson Two—”