Chapter 21
Fang Jing Yao first helped him change. There were no clothing stores near the resort, so he rummaged through his car and found two spare items: black sports shorts and a T-shirt that Long Yu had bought him for morning exercises. The chubby guy had given him a jacket for Yoqing, freshly washed, which he also brought along.
Zhuo Yifan made do with the outfit, looking very punk. If anyone else wore it, they’d look like a scavenger—mismatched and chaotic—but his face was pretty, skin fair, and the shorts made his legs look long and delicate, like a young deer. Half-lounging, only his pale legs were visible.
The early autumn weather was mildly chilly. Fang Jing Yao poured him a cup of hot water. Zhuo Yifan sipped and said, “Master, I want meat.”
The boy was spirited, ignoring the cool air, and soon his eyes were fixed on the large chunks of meat on the grill, sparkling with excitement.
Fang Jing Yao grilled several skewers of pork belly and squid for him, brushing them with shiny chili oil. Zhuo Yifan ate joyfully, drinking and bragging with the chubby guy.
He downed half a beer at once, wiped his mouth, and said solemnly, “When I first trained under my master, I was fourteen. Knew nothing, thought I was the best in the world. Then we entered a competition—my master first, me second. At first I resisted, then I accepted. It’s good to have a strong opponent—it shows where your future breakthroughs are. The saddest thing in life is not having someone powerful enough to challenge you.”
The chubby guy praised him: “You’re shameless now, but it’s just like your master back then. Haven’t seen anyone so calmly flatter themselves in a long time.”
Zhuo Yifan beamed, clinking cups with him, arms around each other, joking and praising.
The chubby guy wasn’t a strong drinker but had good tolerance. After a bottle, his face and neck flushed; he laughed foolishly, calling Zhuo Yifan “little bro.”
Zhuo Yifan, full of bravado, called him “bro,” clinking cups: “Another round!”
The chubby guy shook his head. “No, can’t do another.”
Zhuo Yifan, serious: “Then you need more exercise.”
Chubby guy: “You’re right.”
They discussed, then continued drinking.
Seeing them getting tipsy, Fang Jing Yao worried. While grilling, he scolded, “Are you two okay? I can’t take you back if you’re drunk!”
Zhuo Yifan grinned: “Don’t worry, Master! I’ve got this!”
Fang Jing Yao thought: I’m worried about you, the little idiot.
He ignored them, glancing at Long Yu, who was watching. Fang Jing Yao waved a skewer of squid from afar. Long Yu was slightly allergic to seafood, including squid, so usually asked before eating.
Long Yu shook his head and held up one finger, signaling he could only eat one more skewer. He saw Zhuo Yifan reluctantly comply, eating the squid carefully.
Long Yu smiled subtly, eyes fixed on Fang Jing Yao the entire time.
Han Qiaoye, sitting beside him, rubbed the goosebumps forming on his arm. “Can you stop smiling? It’s disgusting.” The romance vibes were painfully nauseating!
Long Yu said, “You organized a literary club too, wrote poems to charm juniors. Why can’t you handle it now?”
Han: “You’re cheeky—you were only club president a few days!”
Long Yu, calm: “I paid for it.”
Han was speechless. Their high school literary club was the first and liveliest ever; everyone actively participated. Even as vice president, Han wrote countless cheesy poems to charm juniors. The president didn’t solicit funds; he spent his own money—thirty thousand for the first issue.
At the time, Long Yu had just filed a patent. He spent most of his income supporting the club. That’s why their literary club became legendary in the city. Specifically, Long Yu had designed a lab apparatus for chemistry class, applied for a patent, and won an award—high honors for a high school senior.
Others could try to compete academically, but outside academics, they couldn’t match him. Different background, vision, even if they flaunted achievements, Long Yu wouldn’t care.
Six months later, a company adopted his patent into production.
He lacked neither money nor opportunity, methodical and rational like a machine—systematically completing his studies, planning his life, never overstepping.
At the time, he seemed uninterested in everything. When Han jokingly invited him to start a literary club, Long Yu glanced at the list of recruits and agreed.
Recalling the past, Han said, “Jing Yao was there too, mischievous, organizing card games in the meeting room.”
Han’s eyes lit up, looking at Long Yu: “So when did you develop feelings for your junior? Didn’t expect the upright one to fall for a junior! Truly surprising!”
Long Yu just smiled, no reply.
Han leaned closer: “When did you start liking him? Why didn’t you take him along for study abroad? Leaving him in the country for so long—didn’t worry he’d run off?”
Long Yu chuckled softly. “Not worried.”
Han gave him a thumbs-up: “Respect. I couldn’t do that—I’d never let my wife stray farther than three meters. Best to take her to the outskirt grassland and build true love with just the two of us.”
Long Yu: “You had a girlfriend before, didn’t you?”
Han swung his legs, sighing: “We broke up early. After going abroad, it faded. Interests differ. Plus, buying a bag isn’t love—just being with someone doesn’t count. Xie Chunkai already had a ‘preparatory group’ girlfriend…”
At that moment, Xie Chunkai arrived, putting a hand on Han’s shoulder: “Talking bad behind my back? I heard it! Just back and already causing mischief, defaming me in front of Long Yu—drink penalty!”
Han, Long Yu, and Xie knew each other well. Their families were all in medical fields. Long Yu’s family were top surgeons. The Han family worked in medical equipment. Xie Chunkai’s family was related to medicine too but diverged—studied business abroad, then returned to real estate. He had some wealth, the only one who didn’t follow the traditional path.
Xie handed Han a drink. Han drank, protesting: “You didn’t give a bag? Didn’t sleep with a girl?”
Xie, handsome and gentlemanly, raised an eyebrow: “You’re still the same, talking crude. Beauty is for appreciating, not limited to one form.”
Han rolled his eyes: “Bisexual, shameless.”
Xie sat, reminiscing about ten years ago, feeling the impulsiveness of youth. His grandfather was a Confucian scholar, hoping he’d inherit the family knowledge. Grandfather was in medicine, also expecting much. By high school, Xie’s poetic side awoke, and together with Han and others, he helped start the literary club.
But he didn’t let his grandfather be happy for long—he went to university to study business, betraying both sides.
Little Xie chatted with Han Qiaoye and the others, while the surrounding few didn’t dare join their circle; just the three of them talked.
Long Yu also joined in casually, but after a few words, he couldn’t help glancing over at Fang Jing Yao.
Fang Jing Yao, meanwhile, was happily chatting with old classmates. With the mischievous Zhuo Yifan around, he was busy taking care of the little drunkard and didn’t even glance toward Long Yu.
Long Yu’s brows furrowed slightly.
Han Qiaoye noticed and didn’t let it go. He said, “Let Jing Yao and the others come over to play cards. Didn’t he used to love cards? Mali was in the literary club too. Rare that all of us are here today—let’s play a round together.”
Xie Chunkai looked a bit surprised: “Really? Among the old classmates here, there are people from our literary club?”
Han Qiaoye smiled: “Quite a few, but all juniors. Ask Long Yu.”
Long Yu ignored them, getting up to quietly speak a few words with Fang Jing Yao. Fang Jing Yao gestured to the chubby guy and Zhuo Yifan beside him. Long Yu nodded and gently wiped Fang Jing Yao’s face, showing him a finger. Fang Jing Yao scratched his head shyly and quickly wiped his own face a few times, tilting his head so Long Yu could check.
Han Qiaoye felt a pang of jealousy and looked away. Xie Chunkai didn’t notice and still looked expectant.
When the others arrived, Xie Chunkai couldn’t help but boast a little, proudly saying, “Old Han, remember when we started the literary club? How glorious it was! Especially those articles and the first issue we made—overnight, the whole school knew!”
Han Qiaoye snorted, tilting his head without replying, his eyes flicking toward Long Yu and Fang Jing Yao, resting on Fang Jing Yao with a teasing amusement. He thought to himself: This Xie Chunkai fool thinks he rode on Long Yu’s coattails, but it looks like Long Yu was using them to charm the juniors all along!
Soon, Fang Jing Yao and the others came over, bringing along a small white-haired boy.
Han Qiaoye got a few decks from the hotel and started shuffling, mischievously saying, “How about we play for some stakes today?”
Drunk, Zhuo Yifan was unusually honest, eyes wide, focusing hard: “I didn’t bring money.”
Fang Jing Yao, still feeling bad for losing fifty to Long Yu, said, “I didn’t bring any either.”
Han Qiaoye said, “Then play on IOUs. Losers give the winner an IOU and settle it later when convenient.”
The surrounding people nodded in agreement. Fang Jing Yao glanced at Long Yu, feeling a bit proud. He thought Long Yu wouldn’t make things hard for him and, having good card skills, this was basically a guaranteed win. So he nodded in agreement.
Xie Chunkai was gentlemanly and considerate, taking care of those around him. Zhuo Yifan sat next to him, trying hard to watch the cards. They were playing “Protect the Emperor,” where one is the emperor, one is the bodyguard, and the rest are civilians split into two sides. The emperor is usually the target but could dominate with good cards.
Zhuo Yifan was the emperor in the first round, acting arrogant and ruthless. He dominated the first three rounds, leaving a scattered hand of small cards.
Xie Chunkai, as the bodyguard, was tied to the emperor’s fate. He couldn’t signal openly, so lightly tapped Zhuo Yifan with his knee under the table.
Zhuo Yifan felt it, glanced at him, and Xie Chunkai immediately smiled. Before the smile faded, Zhuo Yifan moved his chair slightly away.
Xie Chunkai, unwilling to give up, tapped him again. This time Zhuo Yifan dodged, and the tap landed on Fang Jing Yao.
Fang Jing Yao noticed and suspected Xie Chunkai had ulterior motives, maybe interested in his apprentice. Protective of his own but polite to Long Yu, Fang Jing Yao started interrupting Xie Chunkai’s attempts at conversation. When Xie talked real estate, Fang discussed architecture; literature, he talked art.
Xie Chunkai’s attention was quickly drawn to Fang Jing Yao. Only then did he look properly at the young man across from him—a handsome youth, not as delicate as Zhuo Yifan, with sharp features, good build even sitting, and witty speech. His smiling, crescent-shaped eyes gave a very favorable impression.
Xie Chunkai couldn’t help glancing a few more times and casually played four cards: “Four Jacks.”
Long Yu: “Four Twos.”
Xie Chunkai: “…”
Long Yu didn’t let up, playing all his remaining cards with jokers, leaving Xie Chunkai defenseless.
After finishing, Long Yu put his hand under the table on Fang Jing Yao’s leg, giving a light squeeze. Fang Jing Yao sat up straight, confused. Long Yu leaned closer: “Let me check for you.”
