Chapter 60: Fifteen Minutes

On the deep blue silk sheets, Liang Jinshang’s fate fared little better than that of the pure white Persian buttercup. Amidst the storm, fallen petals drifted onto her shoulders and back, staining her skin in shades of crimson, some deep, some pale.

Shang Yucheng gathered her sweat-soaked body into his arms and bit her twice on the shoulder. Even if he’d missed dinner, such light, teasing bites could hardly quell his hunger; instead, they left Liang Jinshang trembling, fearful he might want more.

“Shang Yucheng, you’re going to be the death of me…”

After an exhausting, unrestrained night, Liang Jinshang transformed from that bedraggled, puppy-like creature back into a cat—no longer delicately addressing him as “Mr. Shang.” Within the bounds he allowed, she could dare to flex her claws just a little, like a cat testing her master’s patience. For now, those bounds were confined to this vast three-meter-by-three-meter bed.

“I’m hungry,” Shang Yucheng said.

His voice was cool and low, yet still thrummed with the remnants of passion, lending it an unexpected allure.

Liang Jinshang muttered, “Even if you’re still ‘hungry,’ you should consider sustainability…”

This time, she’d fallen into his hands with nothing to bargain with. Perhaps she’d have to wait until he tired of her before she could break free. For the time being, hunger certainly wouldn’t plague him.

Releasing his grip from her shoulders, Shang Yucheng pushed her away with commanding ease. “I meant I’m actually hungry. Go make me something to eat.”

Liang Jinshang flopped over like a fish, rolling to the edge of the bed. Bedmate and cook—this man truly knew how to make the most of what he had. She marveled at his efficiency: two uses for one catch.

Yet at that moment, she didn’t want to move at all, not even if she was about to tumble off the bed.

“I’ll just order delivery for you…” she suggested sincerely. “It’s so late, how about something light? Salmon, perhaps?”

She reached for her phone, only to find she didn’t have any delivery apps.

Oh, this was Shang Yucheng’s phone.

“Right, where’s my phone? Let’s switch back,” she said.

Liang Jinshang was someone who barely needed social contact. Though she’d been without her own phone for over ten days, using his sufficed for everything except communication.

“I threw it away,” Shang Yucheng replied.

“That was last year’s new model!” she protested.

Ironically, he’d been the one who bought it for her. When she’d gone to C Province for a cave mapping expedition with her advisor, her phone had shattered. Shang Yucheng hadn’t been able to reach her for days.

When she returned to Jin City, the combination of their brief separation and his lingering anger had kept her up for two nights straight, nearly making her miss her mapping deadlines.

Afterward, he simply bought her the same model and color he used, and ordered her to be available at all times.

Of course, Shang Yucheng couldn’t understand what she was upset about. “Isn’t this one the same? Just get a replacement SIM.”

He’d just spent all his energy, and now, with only his appetite left unsatisfied, his entire focus was on food. Shang Yucheng rarely ate takeout, and with a woman of considerable culinary skill within reach, patience for delivery was out of the question.

“Go make me pan-seared steak udon, and fresh corn juice.”

Prime grain-fed Angus beef—just to stir-fry with bitter melon.

Such waste.

Liang Jinshang tried to brush him off. “I don’t know how to make that. The only beef dish I can do is beef with bitter melon.” She knew full well Shang Yucheng detested bitter melon. If he insisted he’d eat it, she’d simply reheat leftovers. It was a perfect strategy—advance or retreat as needed.

Without even opening his eyes, Shang Yucheng replied coolly, “No, you also know how to make black pepper garlic beef cubes. If you don’t want your culinary skills wasted on a bowl of noodles, make a tableful just like you did at the Chao family’s last time.”

Liang Jinshang fell silent.

Last time at the Chao family’s, she’d made steamed fish stuffed with green peppers, king prawns in soy sauce, black pepper garlic beef cubes, and yam chestnut soup.

“…I’ll make your udon. Fifteen minutes,” she conceded.

She had no idea how Shang Yucheng knew she’d cooked for Chao Jingyu, but she had no desire to serve Shang Yucheng the same dishes. Did he ever consider how loyal Chao Jingyu was to her, compared to how he himself treated her? Did he even deserve it?

Shang Yucheng walked into the kitchen as she was pouring corn juice. True to her word, she’d finished everything he’d asked for within fifteen minutes, even slicing an extra plate of fruit. With a yawn, she said, “Enjoy your meal,” and slipped off to the guest room without being told.

…

The next day, Liang Jinshang had a project meeting.

Such meetings always lasted half a day. As an intern, she usually only needed to sit in the back and listen. But today, with her aching back and waist, even sitting still was a challenge. She could only distract herself by scrutinizing blueprints.

As she pored over them, Liang Jinshang noticed a problem.

Having majored in science, she’d excelled in every course as an undergraduate, but structural mechanics had always been her strongest subject. She’d worked hard at it—her father, after all, had suffered for lacking those skills.

Fang Xin’ou was a design specialist, always relying on his partner for calculations. It was precisely because of this that, years ago, Fang Xin’ou hadn’t noticed someone had altered the structural parameters, leading to a building collapse. He was made the scapegoat and sentenced to ten years. This was already the ninth.

“Engineer Shang.” Liang Jinshang called softly from behind, “The torque here isn’t right. The lengths of the edge beam and the tension rod don’t match.”

Shang Yiming was the head of Liang Jinshang’s group. She could only report issues to him first. She didn’t need the computer’s force model to read the blueprint—her hand-drawn lines on white paper rivaled any digital rendering.

She marked several parameters, handed the paper to Shang Yiming, and gestured for him to look.

But Shang Yiming simply pressed the sheet beneath his documents without so much as a glance.

During the mid-meeting break, Liang Jinshang confronted him directly. “Why aren’t you taking my concerns seriously?”

“Do you think the client’s project manager can’t spot this? You’re not the only one with a mechanics background,” Shang Yiming said, his tone as always tinged with sarcasm when alone with her. “Here, we’re considering the aesthetic performance of the canopy. The edge beam may be insufficient, but the load and deformation values are within acceptable limits.”

She ignored his tone, keeping the conversation strictly professional. “That’s impossible! If the data deviates by even a centimeter, all the parameters need recalculation. How can you just use the limit value?”

But Shang Yiming had no interest in further discussion. Meetings like this repeated dozens of times throughout a project; he simply couldn’t be bothered to intervene in every round of debate.

Ever since someone had been picking up and dropping off Liang Jinshang, his surveillance had lapsed.

Sensing his attitude, Liang Jinshang responded decisively, “Fine. I’ll take it straight to Director Yuan.”

Despite the awkward incident with the misdialed call last time, she still felt uneasy about phoning Yuan Xi.

She pulled out her phone, just about to call Yuan Xi, when Shang Yiming snatched it from her hand.