Unmatched Chapter 27

Chapter 27 Humiliation

Zhao Shuyi once believed that accepting others’ kindness would put him in a passive position. The person helping him would cast bait from the high shore, and he would crane his neck in the deep water, losing all autonomy. From then on, he would be a fish in the other person’s hand, to be reeled in or let go at their whim.

That is why being loved was far inferior to actively loving others; at least the power to reel in the line remained in his own hands.

When Xie Qi suddenly regretted helping him and said he shouldn’t have done it, Zhao Shuyi wasn’t entirely surprised. After all, there was no such thing as an inherently selfless contribution in this world.

Xie Qi must have liked him very much back then, spending a fortune for a fleeting moment of romance. Now that he had sobered up, he finally realized it wasn’t worth it.

While his subconscious vigilance meant he wasn’t surprised, disappointment was still inevitable.

It turned out Xie Qi wasn’t firmly standing by his side; it was just a moment of impulsive infatuation.

Zhao Shuyi stood blankly in the living room, staring at the tightly closed bedroom door.

After a brief moment of shock, he actually felt relieved.

—That’s fine. All he needed to do was find a way to pay back the money.

That evening, Zhao Shuyi moved his belongings from the master bedroom to the second bedroom. It was just his pajamas, sleeping pills, and miscellaneous items like charging cables.

As he packed, Xie Qi stood by the bed, watching him coldly.

Since things had come to this, Zhao Shuyi didn’t feel the need to patiently coax him anymore. He said indifferently, “Don’t worry, you won’t need to regret it. Tomorrow, I’ll have a lawyer draft an IOU for you. I will pay back every cent.”

Xie Qi didn’t say a word. Zhao Shuyi added, “The help you gave me wasn’t just monetary, and I appreciate all of it. So what I said last time still stands: if you ever need help in the future, just ask.”

Zhao Shuyi had reverted to how he was when they first married, his expression cold and his tone stiff. Xie Qi opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to argue, but said nothing.

Zhao Shuyi continued, “From now on, do as you please. Play however you want; I won’t interfere.”

Xie Qi immediately sneered, “You’re the one who wants to play, aren’t you? Using me as a cover?”

“If you want to think that, fine,” Zhao Shuyi said. “We’ll each do our own thing.”

“…”

Everything seemed to have returned to the starting point.

The sweet romance of autumn felt like a fleeting bubble that popped with a whoosh.

But autumn was inherently short. Zhao Shuyi hadn’t even noticed when Fengjing entered the season, and now it was silently drawing to a close.

The next morning, when Zhao Shuyi left for work, a thick layer of fallen leaves covered the ground downstairs. The car tires crunched over them with a rustling sound, like a premature bugle call for winter.

—They were separated.

The house was large, making separation easy. If they didn’t want to see each other, they could stagger their schedules even while living under the same roof, ensuring they never crossed paths.

In truth, Zhao Shuyi wasn’t deliberately avoiding him; Xie Qi was avoiding him. He left early and returned late every workday, and on weekends, he didn’t come home at all. For over half a month, he was nowhere to be seen and hadn’t appeared in the entertainment news either. Zhao Shuyi didn’t know who he was spending time with privately.

Zhao Shuyi went to work as usual, his workload seemingly endless. It was worth noting that because he hadn’t seen Xie Qi, he hadn’t had a chance to personally give him the IOU. Later, he placed it on the coffee table in the living room, weighted down by a water glass. Xie Qi either didn’t see it or didn’t want to accept it, as he never touched it.

Regardless, Zhao Shuyi was certainly going to repay the money; he just needed some time.

He saw Xie Qi again on the evening of Friday, November 17th.

It had just rained in the evening. Autumn and winter rain was particularly cold. Zhao Shuyi wrapped himself in a trench coat and was driven home by the chauffeur. When he got out of the car, the north wind, carrying a biting cold front, hit him, instantly dissipating his body heat. Even the thick trench coat was insufficient.

Zhao Shuyi’s face was pale from the cold. He told the chauffeur not to pick him up the next morning, then quickly went upstairs, planning to take a hot bath and rest early.

He had been too exhausted lately, both physically and mentally.

It was only a little past seven. Given Xie Qi’s usual habits, he shouldn’t have been home at this hour. But today was strange. The moment Zhao Shuyi opened the front door, he was assaulted by a deafening wave of sound that seemed to lift the top of his skull, making his eardrums buzz.

He frowned and walked into the living room. It seemed a concert was taking place inside. Lights flashed, and several singers were strumming, banging, singing, and dancing, howling with hoarse voices.

Five or six people, both men and women, were scattered on the sofa, all dressed provocatively and styled avant-garde. The coffee table was piled with empty glass liquor bottles; some had rolled onto the floor and shattered, but no one cared.

Xie Qi was sitting in the middle of the crowd. If Zhao Shuyi hadn’t recognized his familiar face, he would have suspected he had entered the wrong house.

Unlike the guests, who looked like demons and monsters in their outfits, Young Master Xie was dressed slightly more formally, barely presentable. Although his tie was crooked, as if it had been ripped open, or perhaps just poorly tied to begin with.

Zhao Shuyi watched with a grim face for a while. No one noticed his return.

Xie Qi seemed drunk, his eyes unfocused, sitting motionless.

Suddenly, one of the singers stopped and pointed toward the door. Several people looked in the direction he pointed, confused, and finally spotted Zhao Shuyi. They instantly froze, and the music stopped.

“Brother Qi,” someone alerted Xie Qi that the other master of the house had returned.

Xie Qi slowly raised his head, his gaze meeting Zhao Shuyi’s from a distance. He remained silent for a few seconds, saying nothing.

As soon as the deafening music vanished, the living room became quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

The guests seemed somewhat intimidated by Zhao Shuyi, cautiously observing his expression, unsure how to react.

Logically, Xie Qi should have smoothed things over, giving some instructions to alleviate the awkwardness. But he neither introduced Zhao Shuyi nor told them to leave or continue singing. Everyone stood stiffly like puppets while the colored lights flashed incessantly, making the scene somewhat bizarre.

Zhao Shuyi was understanding: “Don’t mind me, please continue.”

He walked past them as if they weren’t there, entered the walk-in closet, and emerged wearing a warmer coat. He went to the door to change his shoes, clearly intending to go out and not spend the night at home.

But before he could leave, Xie Qi suddenly erupted, “Where are you going?”

Zhao Shuyi scoffed, “You’re having your fun. Do I need to report my whereabouts to you?”

“…”

Xie Qi waved his hand at the crowd. “That’s enough for today. Thanks for your hard work, everyone.”

The singers and companions looked as if they had been granted amnesty. They immediately gathered their belongings and quickly retreated, slipping past Zhao Shuyi.

The eyesores were gone, but the smell of alcohol lingered. Zhao Shuyi felt annoyed, thinking Xie Qi had plenty of places to cause trouble, yet he insisted on bringing this group of demons and monsters home just to make him uncomfortable.

After half a month apart, Xie Qi looked a little thinner. Perhaps it was the dim lighting, but the shadows on his sharp features were deep, making him look particularly severe, like a thin blade that could draw blood with a single glance.

“Where are you going?”

Xie Qi asked again, relentlessly.

Zhao Shuyi no longer wanted to go anywhere. He took off his coat, hung it up casually, turned on the main lights, and walked through the mess in the living room toward the bedroom.

Xie Qi suddenly blocked him. Drunk people were often irrational and prone to losing control. Xie Qi stared intently at him, gripping his wrist with heavy force. Zhao Shuyi even heard a crisp “snap” from his joints.

Zhao Shuyi forcefully pulled his hand back, pushing Xie Qi away. “We’ve already settled the score. Why are you still bothering me?”

Xie Qi had anticipated he would say this and retorted without hesitation, “Settled the score and that’s it? Who are you trying to fob off with a worthless IOU? Have you paid back the money, Zhao Shuyi?”

“…”

A fleeting look of humiliation crossed Zhao Shuyi’s face. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, this was the first time in his life someone had demanded money from him so directly.

“Six months,” Zhao Shuyi said after a moment of stalemate. “Six months at most, and I will definitely pay you back.”

Xie Qi was still dissatisfied and sneered sarcastically, “Have you calculated how much interest six months will accrue?”

After separating for over half a month, Xie Qi seemed to have finally moved past his initial anger and devised a brilliant method of revenge: to return his previous heartache and humiliation to Zhao Shuyi, doubled.

He dragged Zhao Shuyi into the bedroom.

“—Pay with yourself.” Xie Qi, well-versed in the art of humiliation, shoved Zhao Shuyi onto the bed, ripped off his tie, and scanned Zhao Shuyi’s body from head to toe.

Zhao Shuyi paused for a moment, understanding dawned on him, and he immediately became furious. “Get lost! I’m not a goddamn Male Escort.”

Xie Qi mocked, “You can’t sell yourself to your own husband? It’s legal even if the vice squad shows up.”

Zhao Shuyi didn’t say another word and kicked out at him, but gained no advantage.

Xie Qi was rougher than he had ever been before, pinning him down firmly. He leaned close to Zhao Shuyi’s ear and said in a low voice, “Zhao Shuyi, one hundred million per time. How does that sound?”