Chapter 10 – Cold
The call connected.
The car window slid down, letting in the overwhelming sound of the rain. The assistant saw a slim figure by the roadside, holding a phone in a strange posture.
It took him a moment to realize that the odd posture was an attempt to shield the phone from the rain.
A person can get wet, but the phone must not.
The assistant’s mouth twitched slightly, and he called out.
“…”
The sound of rain and faint voices came from the phone, and the person on the street finally looked over in their direction.
The assistant opened the car door.
“Whoosh—”
The car door opened and closed, blocking out the sound of the rain. After stepping out briefly, the assistant patted the rainwater off his body and handed a towel to the man in the back seat. Even though he had used an umbrella, some parts still got wet.
Chen Bai accepted the towel and thanked him.
The car started again, merging into the traffic.
Inside the quiet car, the man who had been resting his eyes opened them slightly and glanced at Chen Bai, who was drying his hair next to him.
His hair, now a mess from the towel, was still damp, and the water droplets hanging from his long lashes were about to fall.
Eventually, the towel wiped those droplets away.
Huo Chuan asked the driver to turn on the car’s heater.
A considerate ‘God of Wealth.’
Knowing this kindness wasn’t meant for him, Chen Bai didn’t say much. He casually draped the towel around his neck and asked, “Where are we going?”
Huo Chuan: “Home.”
There was a brief pause before Huo Chuan glanced at Chen Bai’s thoroughly soaked clothes and added, “The place I live is nearby.”
It sounded almost like an explanation.
Chen Bai smiled lightly and softly said, “Alright.”
The assistant sitting in the front seat glanced at the rearview mirror and couldn’t help but zone out for a moment.
…Too similar.
The last time he met this person was when they signed the contract. At that time, he had only noticed a slight resemblance in appearance, but now, seeing him again, the demeanor and even the tone of his speech were too alike. It was easy to get lost in confusion.
Or perhaps, getting lost was just a matter of time.
Lights from the outside flashed by and receded into the distance.
Huo Chuan wasn’t lying—the place really was close.
The company was in the city center, and for convenience, this wealthy man had bought a luxury duplex nearby.
As they got out of the car and took the elevator upstairs, Chen Bai silently calculated how many of his “three-million” goals could be covered by this one apartment. The more he calculated, the more his heart ached, and he slowly clutched his chest.
“What’s wrong?”
Noticing the gesture, the man standing beside him looked down and asked, “Not feeling well?”
Chen Bai lowered his hand and replied, “I’m fine.”
The elevator stopped, and the door opened. As expected, Huo Chuan’s duplex was exactly what Chen Bai had imagined: a space dominated by shades of gray and white, exuding an overwhelming sense of cold minimalism, so tidy it felt like a showroom.
It was hard to imagine someone like this having a “white moonlight” they couldn’t forget.
The apartment had two floors. The personal assistant and driver’s rooms were on the first floor. While the driver was parking the car, the assistant took Chen Bai directly to a guest room on the second floor.
Though it was a guest room, no actual guests had ever stayed there. The room was livable but lacked any spare clothes, so Chen Bai was given a clean set of shirt and trousers for the night.
This set of clothes came from Huo Chuan’s wardrobe.
Holding the clothes in his hands made him feel a little uneasy. Instead of accepting them right away, Chen Bai first asked the assistant, “I don’t have to pay for these clothes, right?”
The assistant, already anticipating this question for some reason, replied, “No, Mr. Huo said you could have them.”
Chen Bai, still cautious, added, “If they get wrinkled, torn, or stained, I won’t be paying for that either.”
The assistant wiped his face and agreed.
Only then did Chen Bai take the clothes with peace of mind, thanking him politely.
After a hot shower, the damp, sticky feeling disappeared, and a fresh, dry version of Chen Bai emerged into the world.
Instead of leaving the room right away, Dry Chen Bai busied himself rolling up the sleeves and pant legs of his borrowed clothes.
He was tall enough to stand out in a crowd, but Huo Chuan seemed to have some kind of protagonist aura—like Chen Bai’s neighbor—making him even taller, with longer arms and legs. Chen Bai had to roll up the shirt sleeves several times before he could move freely.
Once he finished adjusting his clothes, he pulled out his phone.
Clearly, he was going to work the night shift tonight. He logged into his streaming account and posted a notice saying he was taking the day off, then returned to his phone’s main screen, only to realize someone had messaged him.
It was from his neighbor, sent half an hour ago.
[Did you bring an umbrella?]
Such a simple message made him smile. He raised his hand and typed:
[Nope.]
[I’m staying at a friend’s place nearby tonight.]
Just as he sent the message, he noticed that the other person had been typing, but the input disappeared after his message went through. A moment later, he received a reply: [Okay.]
The length of the reply didn’t match how long the neighbor had been typing, clearly indicating that he had initially wanted to say more.
Curious, but knowing a major boss was still outside, Chen Bai put away his phone and opened the door.
The guest room led directly into the living room on the second floor, where he immediately saw the man sitting on the sofa.
Huo Chuan had taken off his suit jacket and was now just wearing a shirt, his dark blue tie loosened halfway. In one hand, he loosely held a wine glass, while his phone on the table was still lit up.
Chen Bai’s eyes swept over the phone and saw the call log screen, but in a display of professional discretion, he quickly looked away without paying closer attention.
Noticing the movement, the man on the sofa paused with his glass, took a sip of his drink, and gestured for Chen Bai to sit down.
But Chen Bai didn’t sit. Instead, he leaned forward, poured some warm water from the table, and handed it to him.
His wrist, pale and thin under the large sleeves, held the glass delicately, with the tips of his fingers slightly red.
An unexpected gesture.
Huo Chuan only slightly raised an eyebrow, his expression unchanged. He looked up and said in a low voice, “You’re not him.”
Chen Bai didn’t withdraw his outstretched hand. He just smiled lightly and said, “It’s better not to drink before bed.”
The man on the sofa, his deep brown eyes fixed on him, stayed silent. Meeting his gaze, Chen Bai didn’t change his stance and added, “I hope you’ll hurry—my hand won’t last much longer.”
“…”
Clink.
In the quiet, the man on the sofa put down the wine glass with a soft sound as it touched the table.
The cup of water hovering in midair was finally taken.
Chen Bai withdrew his hand and slowly poured himself a glass of water.
The move had been a bit risky, but he did it anyway.
Huo Chuan had previously found other people who resembled his “white moonlight” before, and they all lost their jobs within a few months.
Those previous employees cherished the high-paying job and were careful not to do anything out of line.
But it was this caution that led to their dismissal.
The white moonlight wouldn’t act timidly. Being overly cautious wouldn’t make someone a good actor, and Chen Bai didn’t plan to be dismissed after only a few months.
His gamble paid off.
After handing over the glass, Chen Bai casually leaned back on the sofa and turned to look at the rain continuously lashing against the window. “It seems the rain has gotten heavier.”
His tone was light, like casual conversation. The man holding the water cup took a sip and replied, “Mm, it’s pouring now.”
The lights in the second-floor living room stayed on late into the night, while the rain continued to pound against the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the glow of the lamps.
The next morning, the rain that had lasted all night still hadn’t stopped.
Waking up in an unfamiliar bed, Chen Bai’s brain cells slowly began to stir. The moment he regained consciousness, he reached for his phone to check the time.
[9:36]
Great, half the morning had already passed.
After chatting with the “God of Wealth” last night, he’d felt it was still early, so he took a look at a new piano score. But time got away from him.
He closed his eyes and opened them again, essentially rebooting himself, before finally accepting reality. He sat up in bed.
As expected, the white shirt he wore was wrinkled, but since he wasn’t responsible for it, he didn’t care. He rolled up his slipped-down sleeves and got out of bed.
—Something felt off, in every way.
Wearing slippers felt like stepping on cotton, and when he stood up, his vision swayed slightly.
“…”
Although he hadn’t checked his temperature yet, Chen Bai was pretty sure he was in trouble.
He left the room, and no one was on the second floor. He headed downstairs.
An assistant was sitting downstairs, who turned around quickly when he heard movement, clearly waiting for him.
The assistant informed him that Huo Chuan had already left for work and that his clothes had been sent to the dry cleaners. A new set of clothes had arrived that morning.
After a brief thought, the assistant added, “The cost of the clothes won’t be deducted from your salary.”
The assistant had smartly learned to preemptively answer Chen Bai’s questions.
Chen Bai responded with a brief acknowledgment, but as he did, he realized something wasn’t right.
His throat was dry and hoarse, and it hurt when he spoke.
Great, his throat was in trouble, too.
Confirming that his throat was done for, Chen Bai quickened his pace, swiftly changing into the clothes the assistant handed him. He politely declined the assistant’s offer to take him to the hospital after breakfast, borrowed an umbrella, and left immediately.
The subway station was right outside the complex—no map needed.
Once on the subway heading back, he made his first call to the director. When the call connected, he got straight to the point: “Director, it’s me. I’ve caught a cold.”
“…” The director, not used to such a blunt opener, paused for a moment before replying, “Oh, Xiao Chen, is it?”
Then he asked, “Are you asking for leave? It’s raining outside, and your outdoor shoot for today has been canceled anyway. The notice should’ve…”
“Not exactly.”
Chen Bai said, “Don’t you think my voice is perfect for filming the two scenes where Ah Huai’s illness worsens?”
Those scenes had been postponed, and now with his sore throat, it was the perfect opportunity.
Director: “?”
After confirming multiple times that he could indeed shoot today, the director hung up, hurriedly rescheduling with a complicated mix of emotions.
It was still an hour’s ride from downtown to the old part of town.
The director acted quickly, and the shooting schedule was soon arranged. After returning to the old neighborhood, there was still some time before the shoot, so Chen Bai went home to change his clothes.
He changed back into his cheap, durable loungewear, grabbed his keys, and opened the door.
At the same time, the door next to his also opened, and his good neighbor appeared within sight.
What a coincidence, Chen Bai, despite his hoarse voice, habitually greeted him with a smile, “Good morning.”
This time, his good neighbor didn’t return the greeting as usual.
It wasn’t exactly morning anymore, and he didn’t look well.
Xu Sinian looked down, his dark eyes fixed on the person in front of him, and asked, “Did you get caught in the rain?”
Ahhhh I hope Xu Sinian is the actual ML!