The Drama-King Tycoon Plots Against Himself Every Day

Overpowered fighter with a black-hole-for-a-brain, a 37.5°C body temperature, and a golden-retriever personality on top x Refined scoundrel with low blood sugar and morning grumpiness, a calculating mind, and a cold-faced fox personality on the bottom

One-on-one, happy ending, from elite aristocratic school to the pinnacle of a wealthy family, with a whole cast of legendary allies, intense push and pull, sweet, satisfying, and hilarious!

"Young Master Jin, sneaking in through my window first thing in the morning and pinning me down... Are you planning to pay me back in kind for the PR fees you owe me?"

"If you want to pay me back in kind, why not... let me inspect the goods first?"

At an elite aristocratic school with a strict hierarchy, Shen Xingyuan approached Jin Chengyu at first only to carry out the Shen family's mission to seize power and bring him to heel.

This calculating hunter had envisioned countless schemes in the world of the wealthy, but never anticipated that this seemingly arrogant, chuunibyou mixed-breed golden retriever would rip up his designer shirt to fan him in a sealed room at 38°C, then feed him melted dark chocolate from his scorching fingertips. Nor did he expect him to leap into the deep sea without hesitation during a life-or-death attack in international waters, taking a knife meant for him.

The instant he saw that glaring splash of blood, the always-composed Third Young Master Shen lost control in public for the first time in his life. Even the hand holding Jin Chengyu's was trembling.

Late at night, in the presidential suite on the return voyage, waves pounded against the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Slightly tipsy, Shen Xingyuan picked up a black velvet blindfold himself, covered the golden retriever's eyes, took off his glasses, and kissed him. "Young Master Jin, haven't you always wanted to make this official? Tonight... I'll give you a chance."

He once thought love was the most useless burden in the wealthy families' arena.

Only later did he realize that even if he won a trillion-dollar empire, without that 37.5-degree human space heater in his bed, he still wouldn't make it through a single six o'clock morning when his blood pressure dropped.