After the Young Master’s Death, He was Kissed by His Mortal Enemy! - Chapter 73

Poetry Recital – I Am (____)

Shen Ran hesitated, stammering, “I mean… is that… really right?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Cheng Yi replied with a grin. “And besides, Ran Ran, ask yourself honestly—haven’t I been treating you pretty well lately?”

Shen Ran tilted his head, thinking it over. He had to admit—it was true.

Cheng Yi had never deliberately picked on him. Even those sarcastic-sounding remarks were just part of Cheng Yi’s nature.

In fact, Cheng Yi had always been the first to comfort him, the one who embraced and accepted him without question.

“Mm… alright, you make a fair point. I grudgingly agree with you. But don’t go trying to redeem your reputation—I’m not letting you wash away your ‘toxic-tongue’ persona. Because your mouth really is awful.”

Cheng Yi—someone whose tongue was so sharp, even a passing dog might get roasted by him for no reason.

The two of them continued whispering to each other in the front row of the event hall, totally brazen.

Their closeness and ease with each other did not go unnoticed by Shen Xianming, who was on stage delivering his speech. Watching from above, he nodded to himself in secret.

Young people these days really can’t hide anything—flirting and being all sweet no matter where they are. Clearly no hidden troubles there.

—Clearly, nothing being hidden at all.

After Shen Xianming finished his speech and warmed up the crowd with a few lighthearted jokes, the first round of the prize draw began. The annual party was officially underway.

Shen Ran, who had been gearing up to rush up and draw a ticket, rolled up his sleeves excitedly—only to be stopped by Shen Xianming.

“Hey, Ran Ran, no need to be in such a hurry. The first few rounds don’t have anything good—just standard household appliances and electronics. Nothing you’d be interested in. Those are just for the others.”

He said it with a smile, his tone gentle—yet his words cold as ice.

Obvious contempt and malice aren’t the most hurtful things.

What hurts most is when someone says something like that so naturally, so casually, as if it’s just the way of the world.

No matter how generous Shen Xianming was with his employees at the Shen Corporation, no matter how approachable he seemed, deep down he never really saw them as people.

Just ants. Tools to make money.

Even when he was being nice, it was merely a well-dressed form of pity.

The same went for the “fatherly love” he showed Shen Ran.

“Ran Ran, the apartment you’ve got your eye on—that’s in the final round. Just wait until then. And if you don’t win it, Dad’ll transfer you the money. I won’t let you go without.”

Shen Ran kept up a bright smile, nodding in agreement—but his heart felt heavy.

This so-called fatherly love was no different.

Just like how Shen Xianming looked down on his employees, he also didn’t really see him as a son.

And yet…

“Alright then, Dad!” Shen Ran said cheerfully. “If I don’t win that apartment, you’ll transfer me two million, deal? I need a proper vacation with Cheng Yi this New Year!”

“Hah? Two million?” Shen Xianming winced. “You little rascal—getting bolder by the minute!”

“Okay, okay, fine, three million! But that’s my final offer—any more and I’ll feel bad~” Shen Ran added with a mischievous smile. “Besides, how can Cheng Yi and I enjoy ourselves without money? Daddy, daddy, please~!”

His tone was light and teasing, filled with playful reliance on Cheng Yi.

As he spoke, he leaned into Cheng Yi like a clingy little puppy.

Cheng Yi caught him effortlessly, staying calm and composed, continuing to play the role of a perfect, supportive boyfriend.

But inside, he was holding back a laugh.

This Shen Ran… really did say it and do it. He wasn’t bluffing when he said he’d milk the Shen Corporation for all it was worth.

Cheng Yi was honestly a little worried Shen Ran would start pushing the number up—from three million to five, and from five to ten.

Shen Xianming groaned, rubbing his temples. “Ran Ran! Do you even hear yourself? The more I give, the more you ask!”

“What? Is that a, no? Then… five million it is—”

Just as Shen Ran was about to raise the price again, Shen Xianming finally caved, hurriedly cutting him off:

“Alright, alright—fine! Three million it is! If you don’t win it, I’ll have the money wired to your account immediately. You little rascal.”

Shen Ran, well-versed in the art of knowing when to stop, grinned the moment Shen Xianming gave in. He didn’t push it any further. Satisfied, he leaned comfortably against Cheng Yi, ready to watch the rest of the annual party.

But honestly, it was just a company event—not the Spring Festival Gala or anything. So there wasn’t much to get excited about.

It was mostly staff singing, dancing, maybe a little skit or comedy routine. All things considered, it was lively enough.

Rumor had it that employees selected to perform received a special bonus, so most were probably more than willing to go up on stage.

After watching two or three back-to-back dance and song performances, Shen Ran was already getting bored. He let out a big yawn.

The whole event was about three hours long, and the final prize draw was still a ways off.

Shen Ran was never someone who could sit still. Now, stuck in a stiff, hard redwood chair, he was downright miserable.

All for the slim hope of winning a multi-million luxury apartment… he was about to flatten his backside waiting!

“Relax, Ran Ran. Your butt’s still perfectly round,” came Cheng Yi’s teasing voice beside him.

Shen Ran whipped his head around to glare at him, eyes wide—part shocked, part suspicious, and maybe just a little… unbothered?

Wait a second—he’d only thought that in his head, right?

He hadn’t said anything out loud… had he?

Then why did Cheng Yi sound like he had read his mind?

“No need to look at me like that. You’re wondering how I knew what you were thinking, aren’t you?”

Shen Ran nodded, wearing an eager, curious expression like a student begging for answers.

Cheng Yi raised three fingers and smirked. “It’s simple. First—your emotions are written all over your face. You’ve got zero poker face. Anyone with half a brain could guess what’s going on in that head of yours.”

The moment Cheng Yi said that, Shen Ran could feel a vein throbbing at his temple.

But fine, Cheng Yi always said he was too transparent… he could let it slide this once.

“Second,” Cheng Yi continued, “the event’s been going on for a while, and you’ve never been one to sit still. You can’t even stay put when we’re watching TV at home—you’re always fidgeting or pacing around. So yeah, I figured you’d be suffering right about now.”

Pacing around?! He didn’t pace! He was just… trying to prevent dead butt syndrome by occasionally shifting his weight. Totally reasonable.

“And the third reason…”

Cheng Yi finally burst out laughing, covering his forehead with one hand, trying to hold it in.

“Ran Ran, if you had just looked miserable, I might’ve ignored it. But you literally reached down and started rubbing your butt. With that expression on your face, how could I not guess what you were thinking?”

Shen Ran instinctively glanced down… and saw that, sure enough, his hand was right on his butt.

…He hadn’t even realized it.

Laughing and chatting with Cheng Yi like this made the event a little less boring—even if the jokes were at his own expense.

At that moment, two singers on stage finished their performance and took a bow. The lights onstage dimmed.

Shen Ran assumed the next act would be more of the same. He didn’t even bother looking up, planning instead to pull out his phone and browse food delivery apps with Cheng Yi to figure out what to eat tonight.

But then…

From the mic, a voice rang out through the echo of the speakers—clear, familiar, and completely unexpected.

Program: Poetry Recitation
Performer: Chen Xu
Title: I Am… Nai Long.

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