The Scum Gong Refuses the Crematorium [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 9

Lu Xin had worked at Shengshi for seven or eight years. Usually, when Sheng Yan was away, Lu Xin handled the company’s affairs, only seeking Sheng Yan for matters beyond his authority or major decisions.

During his time at the office, Sheng Yan had observed Lu Xin’s professional capabilities—he was highly competent, diligent, and dedicated. Leaving the company in his hands was something Sheng Yan felt perfectly comfortable with.

As for Sheng Yan himself, he looked at his bank balance, where the interest alone was more than he could ever spend. Well then, I can officially retire. Why live such a tiring life at such a young age? It wasn’t as if the company would stop functioning without him.

Besides, there were two “troubles” in the office. If he stayed, those two would constantly come knocking, turning the whole company into a chaotic mess. How would anyone else get work done? This was better. Everyone had a bright future!

Sheng Yan stretched his limbs in the garden. Feeling refreshed, he called back the kitten that was roaming freely nearby: “666, come back.”

In his mind, System 667 was filled with irritation upon hearing the name “666.” When Sheng Yan had chosen the name, it asked why, and his answer was: “The difference between 667 and No. 1 is 666, so the cat is 666.”

But what truly drove 667 crazy wasn’t the cat’s name—it was Sheng Yan’s behavior. It had finally seen the Host begin to “whitewash the scumbag” and embark on the “chasing the wife” mission. To reward him, it had generously granted 10,000 points. But in the blink of an eye, this difficult Host had resigned from his position at the company.

Without being at the company, how was he supposed to interact with his True Partner? Without interaction, how could he whitewash himself and pursue his goal? 667 watched its stagnant mission progress with a growing sense of systemic anxiety.

Sheng Yan ignored the increasingly irritable system and continued as he pleased. Now that he wasn’t working, the original owner’s “fair-weather” wealthy friends reached out to him again. If they hadn’t, Sheng Yan would have almost forgotten that the original owner had a pack of second-generation rich friends.

Once, they shared a “dream”: to open an entertainment company where they called the shots and filmed movies and TV shows they thought were “badass.” That was a high school dream, though. Later, as Sheng Yan went to college and his father died of a heart attack from overwork, he was forced to take over the company and abandon his dreams.

The others, too, had abandoned the dream for various reasons after graduation. Sheng Yan realized that when Song Liguang said he wanted to enter the entertainment industry, the original owner had poured money into him without hesitation likely using him as a proxy to fulfill a childhood dream.

Everyone had been too busy before, but now that Sheng Yan had resigned, they all came out to ask what was going on, inviting him to Guo Hang’s bar for a drink.

Guo Hang was once a rich kid, too, but his family had been unlucky and went bankrupt right after he graduated. Fortunately, “a starved camel is still bigger than a horse.” With his remaining savings and help from Sheng Yan’s circle, he opened a bar in a prime area of Yanjing. Thanks to his friends’ patronage, business was good.

With nothing better to do, Sheng Yan accepted the invitation.

When he arrived, Guo Hang looked up and saw Sheng Yan stepping out of the car, barely recognizing him. With shoulder-length hair, a custom-tailored suit, and specialized gloves on his hands, the overbearing aura was gone. He looked gentler, though the cold indifference in the corners of his eyes remained unmistakable.

Guo Hang approached him, confused: “What’s with this look?”

Sheng Yan smiled faintly: “A change in style.”

Guo Hang circled him, inspecting: “Talk about a complete overhaul. It’s like you’re a different person.”

Sheng Yan pursed his lips: “Since the lifestyle is changing, I might as well be a different person.”

Guo Hang nodded: “Speaking of which, why did you quit? A Fortune 500 company! A company that can shake the stock market just by stomping its feet!”

Sheng Yan’s reply was even calmer: “I’ve made enough money.”

Guo Hang blinked, then murmured: “True. It’s the family business. As long as it doesn’t go bankrupt, you can go back whenever you want.”

“Mhm,” Sheng Yan hummed vaguely, shifting the subject. “Where are the others?”

“Waiting inside for you.” Guo Hang led him in.

The lights were up, and the bar was a scene of neon lights and noisy celebration. As soon as Sheng Yan entered, someone popped a bottle of champagne: “Congratulations to President Sheng! No, not President anymore, Brother Sheng! Congratulations on achieving life’s freedom!”

Guo Hang shouted from the side: “Hey, hey, ‘life’s freedom’? That sounds a bit off.”

“Then congratulations to Brother Sheng for starting his retirement early!”

Amidst flying confetti and champagne, Sheng Yan watched the group play and laugh. He thought that having friends like this wasn’t so bad after all.

“Here, Brother Sheng,” Guo Hang handed him a glass and pulled out his phone. “Let’s take a photo for memory’s sake.”

Sheng Yan glanced at the screen: “Are you taking a photo for memory, or are you promoting your bar’s business?”

Guo Hang laughed sheepishly: “Both, both. Brother Sheng, you look so good now, it’d be a waste not to take pictures.”

To be fair, Sheng Yan’s new style was much more eye-catching. Once this photo hit his Moments, the bar would be packed in no time. Sheng Yan took a sip of his drink and allowed the photography to continue. Guo Hang snapped a series of photos and posted the most perfect one to his WeChat Moments.

Shengshi Group.

The project was on track, and Lu Mingyue was so busy his feet barely touched the ground. He ate while staring at screens, using his left hand to juggle chopsticks while keeping a wary eye on Song Liguang.

Lu Mingyue felt that Song Liguang’s motives for entering Shengshi weren’t simple. Sure enough, perhaps annoyed by Sheng Yan’s resignation, Song Liguang was performing his endorsement tasks with utter laziness. He even “accidentally” said the wrong things to the media about Lu Mingyue’s project or intentionally botched details.

Monitoring Song Liguang had drained much of Lu Mingyue’s energy. Having finally finished a project phase, he took a day off to relax. He opened WeChat and saw Guo Hang’s post.

Guo Hang: Come to Zuimeng (Drunk Dream) to see handsome guys!

The attached photo showed Sheng Yan surrounded by people, holding a glass and sipping wine with a relaxed, content expression.

Lu Mingyue was so angry he laughed. I’m working myself to death at the company to make money for him and fending off his former little lover’s sabotage, and he’s off living it up? “Let the company go bankrupt then, let’s see where he cries when he has no money to squander,” Lu Mingyue thought darkly. The more he looked at Sheng Yan’s relaxed face, the more irritated he felt.

Zuimeng, is it?

He picked up the jacket he had just taken off and walked out the door. Seeing handsome guys was a privilege everyone should share.

Zuimeng Bar.

Sheng Yan had made the rounds with his friends. No one asked about his resignation anymore, but someone teased: “Brother Sheng, where’s that little lover you usually have by your side?”

Sheng Yan said indifferently: “We broke up.”

“Huh?” Some were surprised, others skeptical. “For real?”

Guo Hang didn’t care: “Good riddance. That whiny, pitiable act of his looked nothing like Lu Mingyue. I have no idea what you saw in him in the first place.”

Speaking of Song Liguang, Guo Hang felt it was unfair for Sheng Yan. Sheng Yan had poured massive amounts of cold, hard cash into Song Liguang, but the man always acted like a mistreated little wife, as if everyone owed him something. If he didn’t want it, he could have refused—why the constant act of victimhood? If someone had kept him like that, Guo Hang thought, he’d be working like an ox for them and making sure the sugar daddy was happy every single day.

“Lu Mingyue is better,” Guo Hang continued. “Even if he didn’t like Sheng Yan, he rejected him properly back then. Just based on that attitude, he’s better than Song Liguang.” He then looked at Sheng Yan with a gossipy grin: “So tell us, Brother Sheng, did you dump the substitute because Lu Mingyue came back?”

Sheng Yan shook his head and said nothing.

“Stop acting,” Guo Hang nudged him. “We saw the news. Shengshi is collaborating with Lu Mingyue.”

Sheng Yan drank and said professionally: “Business is business, private life is private life.”

“Oh-ho—” The crowd hooted in disbelief. Sheng Yan didn’t bother explaining; they’d believe it when they saw he had no personal contact with Lu Mingyue.

Just then, Guo Hang nudged him again, looking at the bar entrance with excitement: “Saying you have no connection? Look, speak of the devil and he appears.”

Lu Mingyue had arrived and was scanning for their table. He looked up, saw Guo Hang and the others watching him, and walked over with a smile: “Gentlemen, am I welcome?”

“Welcome! Very welcome!” Before Sheng Yan could speak, Guo Hang stood up and gave up his seat.

Lu Mingyue nodded to him and looked politely at Sheng Yan: “Brother Sheng, am I welcome?”

“Have a seat,” Sheng Yan shrugged. This was a bar; if the owner didn’t mind, why should he?

“Thank you.” Lu Mingyue thanked Guo Hang and sat down right next to Sheng Yan.

Sheng Yan asked: “What are you doing here? Isn’t the company busy?” He knew Lu Mingyue was as busy as a spinning top; where did he find the time for a bar?

Lu Mingyue sat down and ordered a drink: “I’m off today.”

Sheng Yan nodded.

Then Lu Mingyue lowered his voice and said: “I came to ask Brother Sheng for a reward.”

“Hmm?” That caught Sheng Yan off guard. What reward?

Lu Mingyue: “I’m making money for Brother Sheng at the company while fending off Brother Sheng’s little lover. Surely you can’t deny me a small reward?” He felt it wasn’t unreasonable to ask for a raise after dealing with Song Liguang’s mess.

Sheng Yan knew about the headaches Song Liguang had caused Lu Mingyue. It was true he had acted a bit unfairly by dumping Song Liguang on Lu Mingyue because he couldn’t be bothered with him. Lu Mingyue’s request was justified.

“What kind of reward do you want?” Sheng Yan looked up at him, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to give him a raise.

“Thank you.” Lu Mingyue’s drink arrived. He took it from the bartender and turned back to Sheng Yan: “I want…”

As he spoke that one word, his lips brushed against Sheng Yan’s cheek, leaving a warm trace.

Both of them froze instantly.

Even System 667 sounded an alarm: “Warning! Host must be vigilant! Host’s body and mind belong to the True Partner. No intimate acts with anyone else allowed. Violators will face electric shocks!”

Sheng Yan ignored the system and raised an eyebrow at Lu Mingyue: “Just this?”

Lu Mingyue was mortified. Caught in an awkward spot, he could only nod awkwardly, wishing he could fast-forward through this moment.

But Sheng Yan clearly misunderstood. He raised his gloved hand, gripped Lu Mingyue’s chin, and kissed his lips without hesitation.

The kiss was deep and lingering.

System 667 went into a frenzy: “Host is violating mission parameters! Host is being intimate with someone other than the True Partner! Initiating Level 3 Electric Shock. Cease this behavior immediately!”

“Shut up!”

Zzzzt—

The current died out as soon as it started because of two system notifications:

[System violated the contract by interfering with the Host’s mission behavior. Command invalidated.]

[Host successfully exchanged [Confinement] function. 500 points deducted.]

The [Confinement] function was originally meant to let the system “look away” when a Host was intimate with a target, but 667 never expected Sheng Yan to use it this way. It was forced into a “little black room” against its will.

The world was finally quiet.

Sheng Yan released Lu Mingyue. “Is that enough?”

Lu Mingyue snapped back to reality. Steadying himself, he saw the flush of wine on Sheng Yan’s pale face and had an epiphany. He’s drunk. The ‘love-brain’ has taken over.

Sheng Yan looked at the silent Lu Mingyue and frowned slightly. Not enough? Still trying to play the ‘green tea’ act with me?