Lu Zhuonian acted as if nothing had happened and retracted his death stare. “Let’s go.”
Chen Zemian tilted his head back slightly, thought for half a second, but couldn’t come up with anything, so he could only ask, “Where are we going?”
“To the basketball court. We’re having dinner at Jinlin Hotel tonight. Didn’t Kesong tell you?” Lu Zhuonian replied.
Chen Zemian hesitated. “Yes.”
He told him to play basketball and pick him up for dinner, but he didn’t mention you.
Lu Zhuonian looked at Chen Zemian again, his tone somewhat helpless. “Chen Zhe.”
Chen Zemian raised his head. “Hmm?”
Lu Zhuonian said, “Can you concentrate a little? Wasn’t there nothing wrong with your head the last time you got it checked?”
Chen Zemian said nothing.
His brain was fine, but the trauma in his heart hadn’t healed.
Whenever he saw Lu Zhuonian, he thought of the long needle in the nurse’s hand used for the lumbar puncture. He was nearly suffering from PTSD.
Seeing that Chen Zhe was spacing out again, Lu Zhuonian said, “In our family, kids like you who get distracted easily would be sent for sensory integration training.”
Chen Zemian took a half step back, and after keeping what he felt was a safe distance, he said, “Lu Zhuonian, you’re so mean.”
Lu Zhuonian raised an eyebrow. “Why are you backing away? You’re so good at fighting—how could I ever hit you?”
Chen Zemian asked, “Do you have to beat up people you don’t like?”
Lu Zhuonian said, “Good that you understand. So there’s no point in hiding. Come here.”
Chen Zemian took a step forward, as if preparing to make a grand sacrifice, and declared, “I’m not getting a lumbar puncture again!”
He had taken a half step back earlier, but now, provoked by Lu Zhuonian, he took a big step forward. The distance between the two shrank noticeably. It was still within the bounds of normal social distance, but uncomfortably close to Lu Zhuonian.
The breeze stirred by Chen Zhe’s movement brushed against Lu Zhuonian’s neck and cheek, tickling slightly.
He caught a faint, fresh lemon scent.
Lu Zhuonian lowered his eyelids slightly, hiding his sharp gaze behind long, dark-blue eyelashes. “There’s more?”
Chen Zemian, emboldened, continued, “No bronchoscopy either.”
Lu Zhuonian looked at Chen Zhe for two seconds, then suddenly said, “Sorry.”
Chen Zemian thought he was hearing things. He tilted his head and instinctively leaned closer. “What?”
“I overreacted that night,” Lu Zhuonian said.
Chen Zemian never expected an apology from him. He blinked, trying to figure out whether Lu Zhuonian was being sincere or just toying with him.
But Lu Zhuonian looked earnest and repeated, “I scared you. That was my fault.”
Chen Zemian knew the proper response was a simple It’s okay, but he couldn’t help being contrary. “What exactly was your fault?”
Lu Zhuonian didn’t evade. “Just because you were acting abnormally, I shouldn’t have assumed you had ulterior motives for approaching me.”
Chen Zemian looked up warily. “That doesn’t sound like a real apology. What do you mean I was acting abnormally?”
Lu Zhuonian asked back, “Were you normal?”
Chen Zemian had never heard of someone apologizing and ending up accusing the person being apologized to. He was speechless.
Lu Zhuonian probably realized how his words sounded and clarified, “I mean, you looked… different from before.”
Chen Zemian frowned. “Is being different the same as being abnormal?”
“I meant it was abnormal how you knocked down two professional bodyguards in under seven seconds.”
“…”
Chen Zemian couldn’t argue with that. He had no reasonable explanation, so he simply admitted it. “Fine. It wasn’t normal.”
Lu Zhuonian looked satisfied, a hint of I told you so in his expression, though he quickly masked it, returning to his usual calm demeanor.
Chen Zemian rolled his eyes and walked past him toward the basketball court. “I can see you’re proud.”
Lu Zhuonian’s brow twitched slightly. “Was it that obvious?”
“Not obvious,” Chen Zemian said. “Just extremely irritating.”
“You’re good at reading people,” Lu Zhuonian commented.
“Not that good.”
The two walked side by side, separated by about a person’s width.
“You’re being modest,” Lu Zhuonian said. “If you weren’t good, how could you have tricked Xiao Kesong? He doesn’t care for details, but he’s very cautious when it comes to making friends. He didn’t notice you were hiding something.”
Chen Zemian was silent for a few seconds. “I wasn’t hiding. I just didn’t have a reason to show it before.”
Lu Zhuonian gave a meaningful “Oh, I see.”
Chen Zemian couldn’t help but defend Chen Zhe. “I didn’t lie to Mr. Xiao. I admit I approached him with a purpose, but I would never hurt him.”
Lu Zhuonian asked, “Then what was your purpose?”
Chen Zemian chuckled. “Mr. Lu, someone like me—just an ordinary guy trying to flatter and please a powerful young master—isn’t the reason obvious?” Gaining protection, crossing social classes, accessing power.
But Lu Zhuonian gave an unexpected response: “Then why didn’t you try to please me?”
Chen Zemian coughed awkwardly and glanced sideways at him, uncertain whether he was genuinely curious or mocking him.
Lu Zhuonian’s expression was unreadable.
Chen Zhe had tried flattering him several times before, but Lu Zhuonian always reacted indifferently. Chen Zhe got the message—Lu Zhuonian didn’t want his attention. So he stopped trying and quietly waited for a better opportunity. Better to be discreet than pushy.
Chen Zhe was patient. He endured.
Eventually, he succeeded.
By the time he appeared in the original novel, Chen Zhe was already a well-known figure beside Lu Zhuonian. Many second-generation elites respectfully called him “Mr. Zhe.” Unfortunately, readers couldn’t stomach his success and pressured the author to rewrite the character. “Mr. Zhe” became a joke, a target of mockery.
Thinking of this made Chen Zemian angry.
To win over someone as hard to please as Lu Zhuonian, Chen Zhe had surely put in a tremendous amount of effort behind the scenes. He was careful, diligent, and never complained. His success wasn’t just due to a pretty face.
There were plenty of good-looking characters in the novel. Why couldn’t they win over Lu Zhuonian?
Was it because they didn’t try?
The readers casually typed a few lines and forced the author to change the narrative, erasing all of Chen Zhe’s hard work. That was infuriating.
Chen Zemian’s emotions were easy to read. When happy, he smiled brightly. When angry, his face drooped, his eyes and brows tinged with frost.
Naturally, Lu Zhuonian, who was walking closest, was the first to feel the brunt of his frustration.
Chen Zemian’s resentment toward the readers and the author spilled over onto the real Lu Zhuonian. He glared at him. “Why? Do I have to please you?”
Lu Zhuonian remained calm. “No.”
That only made Chen Zemian angrier. He pitied Chen Zhe. “You asked me why I didn’t try to please you—was it because I didn’t? I toasted you the first time and you ignored me. Same with the next few times. You clearly didn’t want to bother with me.”
Lu Zhuonian stopped walking and said, “I’ll pay attention to you from now on. Don’t be angry.”
“…”
Chen Zemian was the type to fight back when pushed, but melt when coaxed. He realized he had lost his temper and felt a bit guilty for snapping like that.
Seeing that Chen Zhe kept his head down, silent, Lu Zhuonian asked, “Anything else you want to say?”
Chen Zemian raised his head, glanced quickly at him, then looked away and muttered, “You’re so hard to please, Lu Zhuonian.”
Lu Zhuonian couldn’t help it — he chuckled.
Chen Zemian walked behind him, watching his back. He had to admit, this man really was charismatic. No wonder so many people followed him.
He was kind, tolerant, and had a broad perspective.
He knew when to advance and when to retreat. He had grace.
He was a man destined for great things.
When they arrived at the basketball court, Xiao Kesong had already left the game. He was wearing a red jersey and sitting in the stands, hands propped behind him, watching the match. He didn’t notice Chen Zemian approaching.
Chen Zemian called out, “Young Master Xiao.”
Xiao Kesong turned his head. “Why are you so late?”
Chen Zemian raised the bag in his hand. “I brought some drinks for you.”
Xiao Kesong laughed, clearly pleased with Chen Zhe’s initiative. He called over his teammates to get the drinks and showed off proudly. “These were bought by my younger brother. Take whatever you want—we’re going to eat soon.”
Chen Zemian added, “Actually, they were bought by Young Master Lu.”
Xiao Kesong paused for a second. “Zhuonian? You ran into him?”
Chen Zemian nodded. “I saw him at the teaching building. He went straight to the car.”
Xiao Kesong unscrewed a bottle of Coke and took a sip. “Makes sense — he doesn’t like the smell of sweat. Says the basketball court stinks. You should head to the car too. I’ll go upstairs to shower and change.”
Chen Zemian went to the parking lot to retrieve the car and drove Lu Zhuonian to the dormitory building. After waiting less than ten minutes, Xiao Kesong and Ye Chen came downstairs together.
It was just before six when they left the school gate, and traffic was already building. Still, Chen Zemian drove quickly and arrived at Jinlin Hotel in no time.
Jinlin Hotel is a well-known establishment in Beijing, located right next to Prince Gong’s Mansion, and parking there is notoriously difficult.
Chen Zemian pulled up to the restaurant entrance. “We’re here.”
Xiao Kesong unbuckled his seatbelt and stretched lazily. “It’s really nice having someone drive you. Last time I came here, I drove in circles for ages and still couldn’t find parking.”
Chen Zemian smiled. “Call me after dinner, and I’ll come pick you up.”
Parking was indeed difficult in that area. This was what Chen Zhe always did: drop Xiao Kesong at the entrance, circle the block, then return to pick him up after the meal.
The roast duck at Jinlin Hotel was famous. Chen Zhe had been there many times but had never eaten it. Sometimes, Xiao Kesong would remember and pack some for him, but Chen Zhe would always accept it with a smile — only to throw it away later at home.
He had a sensitive stomach and couldn’t eat cold food.
Outside Jinlin Hotel, a security guard opened the car door.
Once all three got out, they walked into the grand lobby.
Chen Zemian stepped on the accelerator and drove off. Another car pulled up behind him, and several well-dressed guests got out.
Ye Chen glanced at the rear of the car disappearing into the distance. “Where’s he going to eat?”
Xiao Kesong’s face went blank for a moment, looking at Ye Chen in confusion.
Ye Chen looked surprised. “Don’t tell me you never thought about that when you asked him to drop you off?”
Xiao Kesong’s slow-working mind finally caught up. “Crap… I didn’t think of that. His company used to be nearby, so he’d just head back to work and wait.”
Lu Zhuonian raised an eyebrow. “What kind of company is still working at dinnertime?”
Xiao Kesong: “…”
Ye Chen was speechless. “Don’t you have a driver at home?”
“It’s just convenient to ask him,” Xiao Kesong said, still confused. “We can chat on the way. What do I do now? Should I call him back?”
Lu Zhuonian stepped into the elevator. “I’ll ask the bodyguard to try. But he might not come.”
Sure enough, after they were seated in the private dining room and had just ordered, a bodyguard knocked on the door and entered. “Mr. Chen says he’s not hungry and won’t be coming up.”
Ye Chen poured himself a cup of tea. “Then let’s invite him again next time.”
Xiao Kesong scratched his head in frustration. “Ugh, now I feel guilty. Do you think Chen Zhe thinks I’m taking advantage of him? I really didn’t mean it that way.”
Lu Zhuonian casually browsed the wine list, acting as if the conversation had nothing to do with him.
Xiao Kesong turned to Ye Chen again. “What should I do?”
Ye Chen blew the foam off his tea. “Nothing. Just eat your taro duck with guilt.”
“…”
But before the taro duck arrived, Xiao Kesong couldn’t sit still. He went downstairs with his phone. Instead of calling Chen Zhe, he used the car’s GPS to find it parked down the street.
Chen Zemian was leaning on the steering wheel, playing a small single-player game.
Xiao Kesong knocked on the window.
Startled to see him, Chen Zemian rolled it down. “Mr. Xiao?”
Xiao Kesong slid into the passenger seat and got straight to the point. “Why didn’t you come upstairs to eat?”
“I’m really not hungry,” Chen Zemian said.
Xiao Kesong looked annoyed, though it was unclear if he was mad at himself or at Chen Zhe. “Even if you’re not hungry, you could still come up. I can’t eat properly knowing you’re sitting down here alone.”
Chen Zemian chuckled. “Why not? Isn’t the crispy duck good?”
“It’s taro duck,” Xiao Kesong sighed. “Chen Zhe, are you refusing to eat because I’ve been treating you like a driver?”
“How could that be?” Chen Zemian replied. “I’m truly not hungry. Besides, I’m not familiar with Young Master Ye and Young Master Lu. It’d be awkward sitting there. It’s more fun playing a game in the car.”
Xiao Kesong hesitated, then grabbed Chen Zhe’s arm and studied his face under the car’s interior light. “You’re really not mad at me?”
Chen Zemian reassured him with a smile. “Really. Young Master Xiao is my benefactor. You’ve always treated me well—why would I be angry with you?”
“I’ll treat you even better from now on. You’re my younger brother,” Xiao Kesong declared.
Chen Zemian laughed. “Thank you, Young Master Xiao.”
Xiao Kesong tugged on his arm and shook it. “A younger brother has to listen to his big brother. Come on, follow me upstairs to eat. Ye Chen and Zhuonian don’t mind. After a few more times, you’ll feel more comfortable.”
It would’ve seemed overly dramatic to refuse now.
Chen Zemian relented. “Alright. Let me find a place to park.”
“No need. Zhuonian’s bodyguards are here.”
Xiao Kesong rolled down the window and waved. A man in a suit got out of the black business car behind them, got into the driver’s seat, and chauffeured the two of them to the hotel entrance before driving away again.
Chen Zemian and Xiao Kesong walked into the lobby side by side.
The front desk manager, seeing that Young Master Xiao had come down personally to pick someone up, immediately guessed that this guest was no ordinary person. Smiling warmly, he asked, “Mr. Xiao, whose young master is this? He’s very handsome.”
“This is my friend,” Xiao Kesong replied. “His surname is Chen.”
The manager gestured politely and led Chen Zemian forward. “Mr. Chen, you look unfamiliar. This must be your first time at Jinlin Hotel. Let me introduce you to some of our specialty dishes…”
Hearing this, Xiao Kesong didn’t feel any better — on the contrary, his guilt deepened.
Chen Zhe had driven him here countless times, but this was the first time he’d actually come inside.
Feeling uneasy, Xiao Kesong took out his phone and tapped a few buttons.
A second later, a string of electronic notifications rang out on Chen Zemian’s phone —
[¥50,000 has been deposited into your Alipay account.]
[¥50,000 has been deposited into your Alipay account.]
[¥50,000 has been deposited into your Alipay account.]
*****
If you enjoy what we do, consider supporting us on Ko-fi! Every little bit means the world!
Author: LazyHermitGal
A Lazy Hermit Gal
