Chapter 77: Living With Me

Liang Jinshang had always been on guard, wary of whether Liang Xizhou might suddenly lose control.

After all, for the past eight years, the past had trapped him in a damp, shadowy corner, and Liang Jinshang was the moss at his side.

Today, however, Shang Yucheng appeared before him with the flawless bearing of a child of destiny.

He even claimed to be Liang Jinshang’s boyfriend.

Liang Xizhou had always regarded Liang Jinshang as his possession—who could tell when his mercurial moods might erupt?

So, when Liang Jinshang first heard his words, her heart gave a violent leap, almost believing it was a prelude to some provocation against Shang Yucheng.

She immediately cast a pleading look toward Shang Yucheng; after all, this young master had always held a deep prejudice against Liang Xizhou.

But Shang Yucheng merely replied coolly, “We’re all from Jincheng. It’s not surprising to have met.”

He seemed indifferent to the matter, his gaze resting only on the blurry television screen.

Liang Xizhou, though, let out a brief laugh, tinged with an undercurrent of obsession. “Not surprising? Someone like me, unable to even leave my house, having met you—surely that’s quite strange!”

His tone was blunt to the point of rudeness, and Liang Jinshang had never heard anyone speak to Shang Yucheng in such a manner.

Shang Yucheng turned silently to look at him.

That gaze was deep, like a still spring.

Liang Jinshang quickly stood, handing a teacup to him. “Yucheng, have some tea.”

She looked as though facing a formidable enemy. Shang Yucheng regarded her for a moment, then lazily answered, “Perhaps you saw me without me seeing you. Do you watch the news?”

Shang Yucheng was certainly a frequent figure in the financial pages. Yet, judging from Liang Xizhou’s expression, he did not seem to agree.

He remained frowning, as if trying to recall when he had ever met Shang Yucheng.

But Liang Jinshang knew for certain Liang Xizhou could never have met him.

When she first met Shang Yucheng, Liang Xizhou had already been bedridden for three years. She was a sophomore then, and had witnessed Shang Yucheng pursue Senior Sister Si Rong.

But at that time, Shang Yucheng was completely absorbed in Si Rong, unlikely to remember her.

Later, she truly got to know Shang Yucheng because she became a tutor for his family.

It was five days later, deep into the night, when they finally grew close—ironically, it was Liang Xizhou who had created that opportunity for them.

Liang Xizhou seemed to have more to say.

But Liang Jinshang knew that Shang Yucheng, having replied to such a trivial topic, had probably exhausted his patience.

Compared to the way he used to call Liang Xizhou “cripple” right in front of her, today’s conduct was already ten thousand times more “friendly” than she had expected.

She could only deal with Liang Xizhou first. “Brother Xizhou, dinner’s almost ready. Let me take you to wash your hands.”

…

After the meal, Shang Yucheng asked to see Liang Jinshang’s bedroom.

Her room was small, barely fitting a bed and a desk.

One glance was enough to take in everything within.

Yet Shang Yucheng leaned against the desk, leisurely surveying the space.

Liang Jinshang couldn’t help but ask, “What are you looking for?”

“Nothing,” Shang Yucheng replied casually. “Have you really only ever owned so few things?”

The typical items found in a girl’s room were absent.

She had come to the Liang family at sixteen.

The house was small, the family burden heavy; she never asked for anything new.

Before sixteen, the Fang family had been affluent, and Fang Xin’ou had spoiled her like a little princess.

But after that accident, Fang Xin’ou was imprisoned, and five victims were involved. Her mother, trying to compensate the families, sold everything she could.

They lived in a rented apartment for half a year, and all her childhood belongings and photo albums had to be pared down to the bare essentials.

Liang Jinshang pressed her lips together. “Of course, I can’t compare to you, Young Master Shang.”

Her spirit inevitably dimmed.

Not from feeling inferior to Shang Yucheng.

But from the thought that, after her mother’s suicide, the traces of her life before sixteen had almost vanished from the world.

Shang Yucheng seemed oblivious to her gloom, pulling her into his arms.

With a sudden, inexplicable interest, he nibbled at her ear, “Your bed is like a child’s. If I were to stay overnight, you’d have to sleep on top of me, wouldn’t you?”

Liang Jinshang, still low-spirited, pushed him away in annoyance.

She knew what Shang Yucheng suggested was impossible; he would never live in such conditions.

Wasn’t he just mocking the Liang family’s poverty?

She said, “Let’s go outside. It’s not good to stay in the bedroom all the time.”

Her real concern was the lack of air conditioning—the room was small and stuffy, and she feared it would be uncomfortable for the pampered young master.

“Are you afraid they’ll misunderstand?” Shang Yucheng raised an eyebrow. “The bed would fall apart after two shakes—what could I possibly do?”

Liang Jinshang took two deep breaths. “It’s getting late. When are you going home?”

When Shang Yucheng said his goodbyes, he suggested Liang Jinshang leave with him.

“Ah…” Father Sheng hesitated. “How will Jinjin get home later…”

As the parents of a daughter—even foster parents—it was inevitable to worry about their girl going home with her boyfriend so late.

Liang Jinshang surreptitiously nudged Shang Yucheng.

Her mother rarely interfered in her private affairs, and lately she had spent most nights at Shang Yucheng’s place.

But to openly hint at taking her away in front of her elders was unheard of.

“She won’t be coming home tonight,” Shang Yucheng said, ignoring her subtle hints, so blunt that Liang Jinshang was left speechless. “The house is a bit cramped. She’ll stay at my place from now on, so you’ll have more room.”

Liang Jinshang: …

On such sensitive matters, it was the father who cared most.

Though he had been gravely ill for years and had little time to oversee Liang Jinshang, it did not mean he was indifferent to his daughter.

Her mother, flustered and eager to please before Shang Yucheng, was no match for Liang Yuanhan’s calm, dignified manner despite his frailty.

He said frankly, “It’s not appropriate for Jinjin to live with you. You aren’t married yet.”

Marriage, as he said it, was natural—his generation saw it as the logical next step after courtship.

Yet Liang Jinshang immediately cast a wary glance at Liang Xizhou and Shang Yucheng.

Marriage was a landmine for both men.

Sure enough, Liang Xizhou asked, with a half-smile, “Mr. Shang, how far have you and our Jinjin progressed?”

Shang Yucheng met his gaze quietly, his handsome face marked by a peculiar calm.

Liang Jinshang, tense all day, felt her anxiety suddenly swell, and, eager to interrupt, said, “We’ve only just…”

Just started dating.

Before she could finish, Shang Yucheng's hand rested on her shoulder, and he said offhandedly, “I will take responsibility for her.”

For a few seconds, the air was utterly still.

Liang Jinshang’s face flushed crimson, her mother turned away, and her father’s expression darkened.