Chapter 78
“Qixi?” Parsons was a bit confused.
“It’s the C-Nation’s Valentine’s Day,” the driver explained while carefully driving the car. He told Parsons about this traditional festival—two unfortunate lovers separated by worldly forces, allowed to reunite only on this day and whisper love to each other.
“The ending is far too tragic. Is it really suitable for a Valentine’s Day?” Parsons questioned. If they could only meet once a year, that meant the rest of the time was spent suffering in longing.
“Hahaha, but even without a holiday, young couples will always find ways to create one for themselves.” The driver uncle laughed as he drove into the parking platform of a luxury hotel.
“We’re here, boss.”
“I’ll call you before leaving,” Parsons said as he lifted the bag and opened the door. The lights reflected off his sharp dark-blue suit; the gemstones on his cufflinks sparkled with understated brilliance.
“Okay, boss.” The driver went to find a parking spot.
—
When Jiang Jitang left home, the sky had not yet darkened, but the streetlights were already lit. Wearing a helmet, he rode his little electric scooter, weaving through crowded couples.
“So today’s Qixi…” Though he had no lover, Valentine’s Day happened regardless. Jiang Jitang had never cared much for this holiday, but seeing the smiling couples and vendors selling flowers and plushies, even a single dog like him could smell the sweetness of the day.
“Hello, where is table 303?”
“This way, please.” The waiter bowed slightly and led him inside.
Because Parsons made the reservation too late and couldn’t beat the couples monopolizing the private rooms, he only managed a table in the main hall. Wearing a sunflower T-shirt and white sneakers, Jiang Jitang walked into this environment that did not suit him at all.
It was a full-blown couple’s event—everyone was radiating hormones. The air was filled with perfume and chocolate sweetness. Men wore shirts and leather shoes, women had full makeup and dresses with matching jewelry. Everyone ate slowly and quietly, all refined and restrained.
As he walked past, Jiang Jitang realized this was nothing like the restaurants he usually went to—everyone looked tightly wrapped and stiff.
He scanned the room and instantly spotted Parsons.
Tall, foreign, strikingly handsome—very easy to find.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Jiang Jitang smiled and placed a gift box on the table. “A return gift. Some pastries from last time.”
Parsons controlled the muscles on his face to stay calm as he pushed over a paper bag. “I passed by. The bookstore happened to be having a sale.”
Oh? Jiang Jitang took one glance at the books—definitely his tastes. Tsk tsk tsk… must’ve been hard to think of an excuse. Well, good—this gave him a chance to prepare a “return gift” next time.
Once they were both seated, dishes began to arrive.
Parsons had ordered the 3,888 dual set—1,900 per person, including a bottle of wine.
Appetizers included foie gras on scallion bread, low-temperature roasted ox tongue, tuna salad, seafood platter, smoked salmon with sour cream and pickles…
Everything—appetizers, soup, mains, starches, dessert—was exquisite. But all tiny.
That ox tongue? Just a mahjong-sized piece. Didn’t even need a knife—one poke and it was gone. Other dishes were all single-bite servings.
He felt like he was participating in a “tasting session.”
The “bread” was even more unbelievable—a 4×6 cm cracker at the bottom, stacked with three paper-thin slices of cured meat, topped with other ingredients, and the “bread” on top was actually whipped and pan-seared egg white that vanished on the tongue.
This wasn’t airiness.
This was literal air.
He suddenly missed Chef Ding’s colorful bread slices.
Soon, over twenty dishes were finished.
Others might have been satisfied—the location, river view, décor, staff, rare ingredients all lived up to expectations, and every photo was Instagram-ready.
But both Parsons and Jiang Jitang were practical people. Their biggest takeaway was:
They were not full.
So many plates, so much decoration…
And not full?
Who would believe that?
In the magical world, red meat represented “heat,” despised by the Church as “the food of the brutish,” so they always pushed fish and poultry. But Parsons still ate large amounts of red meat—only it provided enough energy. A warrior had to prioritize eating to fullness.
As for Jiang Jitang, he ate everything—red meat, “underground fruits rejected by nobility,” anything delicious. His rule was also: eat until full.
“Do you have plans tonight?”
Jiang Jitang’s smile made Parsons remember the small desert inn in Hatousha, when he invited him to sneak away to the desert to see the Milky Way.
Parsons had never heard of a “desert galaxy.” His early life was nothing but training, memorizing discipline, and hunting bandits.
Under that bad boy’s coaxing, he escaped his usual path for the first time—saw the endless desert, the brilliant stars, and how small humans were in comparison.
That deeply buried part of him woke up.
That was the first time “romance” appeared in his life.
“If you’re free, want to come with me to the Bund? It’ll be lively tonight.”
“Okay.” Parsons’s body responded before his mind did—he agreed instinctively.
Jiang Jitang grabbed the bags and the unfinished sparkling wine. “Then what are we waiting for? I’ll take you. Waiter, please pack the wine.”
—
The city’s coastline and great river framed the Bund, its large semicircular plaza enclosed by Roman columns of white marble.
Parsons held a bowl of cold spicy skewers, milk tea dangling from his wrist, and a box of packed wine in his hand. Behind him were restaurants and bars; before him, waves of river water and a brilliant musical fountain that had just begun.
Today was Qixi, so aside from the usual snack stalls, there were many selling flowers and plushies. And of course, the most common sight—couples everywhere.
Jiang Jitang and Parsons squeezed into the crowd, Parsons stiff and awkward, stepping wrong with his hands and feet, while Jiang Jitang dragged him along with one hand, munching a scallion pancake with the other, happily watching the towering fountain.
“I knew they’d have this today. On holidays, the biggest fountain performs—usually it’s only ten meters tall, and much shorter.”
Parsons barely heard him. His wrist felt like it was melting—the other man’s hand rested right on it. Parsons secretly inhaled; sweat gathered on his forehead.
Others had noticed them too. The world was open-minded, but two men holding hands still drew eyes. Plus, they were both tall and beautiful—any aesthete would look twice.
Parsons, in a sharp custom suit, radiated frosty distance; Jiang Jitang, warm as spring wind, softened the ice. Cold and warm—surprisingly harmonious.
The fountain shifted shapes—hearts, sky-high plumes, colorful lights—like a fairyland.
Parsons didn’t see any of it.
He was mesmerized by the man beside him.
After half an hour, the performance ended, but couples still lingered. The two wandered along the Bund, passing street musicians playing in the sea breeze.
“Can I try?” Jiang Jitang asked a drummer. The musician blinked, then stepped aside.
Jiang Jitang held the drumsticks, leaned toward the mic: “This is for my dear friend, Parsons.”
Parsons felt fire ignite on his face. He was definitely red.
And Jiang Jitang began playing.
He could play drums?
He could play drums—wild, passionate, roaring like waves, embodying his overflowing vitality. More and more people gathered; the air grew hot. Parsons tugged open a button on his collar, breathing hard.
Jiang Jitang looked only at him—his gaze burning. In that moment, Parsons felt like he was the only human in the world to him.
“You really are greedy,” Parsons told himself. “One lifetime with such a friend isn’t enough for you—you want a second.”
Who wouldn’t be drawn to him? Maybe some could resist—but certainly not someone like Parsons, whose soul was old and tired.
The excitement lasted past nine. Still energetic, but the two decided to leave. They pushed the scooter under the starlight.
“You can play drums?”
“Only that one song. Was it good?”
“It was good.”
Hearing that, Jiang Jitang beamed, letting Parsons feel—effortlessly—how important he was to him.
“Did you see my Moments [1] post?”
Parsons froze. He remembered his excuse for meeting today. Guilty but composed, he said, “I did.”
Two words—and Jiang Jitang knew he spotted the detail.
“Curious? You’ll find out in two days.”
Two days?
“This has to do with your dream?” Parsons realized.
“It’s related to what I’m doing now. You could say it’s related to my dream too. But I’m not telling you yet—not because I can’t, but because keeping it secret is more fun.”
He smiled. “So, can you wait two days for my little sense of humor?”
Their dynamic felt like before. Parsons didn’t want to break the illusion.
“Okay.”
Two days. More days—he could wait.
They parted at the crossroads. Jiang Jitang rode off; Parsons got into his waiting car. He returned to the hotel, opened the gift box, and found a phone charm.
He chuckled. “No originality at all.” As expected—Jiang Jitang loved gifting gemstones.
A pink-orange teardrop gem shimmered lightly, paired with a moonstone teardrop.
He held it under the light—inside, a thousand rays danced.
“Just like his…”
The next morning, Parsons’s team immediately noticed something off—their boss’s black phone now had a girly pink gemstone charm dangling from it.
“I never thought in my life I’d see a charm like that on the boss’s phone.” The chubby guy gasped, convinced the mysterious person must be incredibly powerful. Who on earth were they!?
Nick closed his laptop mysteriously: “Boss’s two tailored suits arrived yesterday. One was sent for washing this morning. Maybe you don’t know—yesterday was the C-Nation’s Valentine’s Day. The whole city was full of couples; restaurants too.”
Their gossip instincts flared—but Parsons walked in the next second.
“Nick, give me the new data for the ‘Church Back Kitchen’ dungeon.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Sam, the house looked good. If no issues, bring the lawyer this afternoon to sign. You handle it.”
“OK.” The muscular short-haired woman nodded.
“Toby, you have physical and shooting training this afternoon. I hope that burns off your midnight snack.”
The chubby guy wilted.
Then Parsons looked at a giggling woman. “Avita, same for you. Control your desires and train more.”
Her smile vanished.
“Jennifer, a client will visit at 1:30. You receive them…” After assigning tasks, Parsons waved them off.
As for Jiang Jitang, after a peaceful night, he began today’s task—
A beautiful day begins with making a bird-themed cake!
Footnotes:
[1] WeChat Moments is WeChat’s built-in social feed, similar to Facebook’s timeline or Instagram, where users share photos, short videos (up to 15s), text, links, and articles with their WeChat contacts (their “circle of friends”).
