Ever since he began taking care of Lu Zhuonian, Chen Zemian hadn’t returned to the office.
The international competition hosted by the shooting range was still ongoing. Though absent in person, he spent the entire morning on calls, coordinating details from afar. Even without setting foot on site, he had become the steady backbone of the operation.
“I didn’t even have proper work before — just idled around every day,” Chen Zemian said, his voice growing hoarse from talking. He lifted the teacup in his hand and took a slow sip. “How did I end up as the backbone of the team just by messing around?”
Lu Zhuonian glanced at the cup in his hand, expression unreadable. “That tea you’re drinking… it’s my Dahongpao. Tell me, oh mighty backbone — can I have a sip?”
Chen Zemian spat out a mouthful of tea in shock. “Pfft — this is your Wuyi Mountain mother tree tea? A single kilogram of that Dahongpao is worth tens of millions!”
Wuyi Mountain Dahongpao was hailed as the king of rock tea, but most of what circulated on the market wasn’t considered genuine. The original mother trees had long been designated a World Heritage Site, rendering the tea they produced a priceless rarity. Just 20 grams had once sold for a staggering sum in the hundreds of thousands.
Chen Zemian knew that Lu Zhuonian had once acquired a mother tree of Dahongpao — he remembered it being mentioned in the original novel as a testament to the Lu family’s immense wealth. So when he saw Lu Zhuonian preparing tea that morning, he had casually asked about it.
To his surprise, Lu Zhuonian quietly brewed a cup and set it on the coffee table to cool.
Who would’ve thought he’d actually make that Dahongpao?
Chen Zemian stared at the teacup in his hand, doubt creeping into his expression. “Is this really Dahongpao?”
Lu Zhuonian gave a slight nod. “Does it taste good?”
Chen Zemian smacked his lips thoughtfully. “I didn’t really catch the flavor. I was too thirsty, so I just drank it down in one go. What a waste — I even spat some out. That must’ve cost thousands, at least.”
Lu Zhuonian said calmly, “It’s not a waste. Tea, after all, is meant to quench thirst.”
Chen Zemian couldn’t help but admire his generosity. As expected, those who achieve great things always have a broad heart.
He poured fresh hot water into the teacup and slid it gently toward Lu Zhuonian. “Then let me refill it for you. Take your time and savor it.”
Lu Zhuonian’s gaze dropped to the cup. “Do you want me to taste your own saliva?”
Chen Zemian was momentarily speechless. “…”
Lu Zhuonian added, “Drink it yourself, and I’ll give you the cup.”
Chen Zemian hadn’t expected this twist. “Really?!”
The teacup was quaint and refined, its craftsmanship exquisite — clearly not something inexpensive.
In truth, the value was secondary. No matter how wealthy Chen Zemian became, he would never buy something so ostentatious for himself. But naturally, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse something so rare.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered in Lu Zhuonian’s eyes. “Really.”
Chen Zemian beamed. “How embarrassing.”
Lu Zhuonian made a light “tsk” sound and leaned back on the sofa to read the newspaper. “You’re still embarrassed.”
“I’m often embarrassed,” Chen Zemian said, taking a clean cup, pouring a glass of water for Lu Zhuonian, and pushing it to him flatteringly. “Drink some water first. I’ll go see if your porridge is ready.”
Lu Zhuonian’s hand was seriously injured and he couldn’t do much. His right hand and forearm were wrapped like a dumpling. Three stitches were sewn on the palm of his left hand, also bandaged. His ability to hold things was limited — he couldn’t even hold his phone to play, only put it on a flat surface and tap it with his index finger.
Eating was also a problem. Naturally, he couldn’t pick up chopsticks and could barely hold a spoon with his tiger’s mouth.
Young Master Lu was a bit proud of himself. He probably thought his clumsy actions weren’t decent enough. He reluctantly scooped two spoons of porridge but didn’t eat it — like a picky cat sniffing cat food and walking away. Chen Zemian was so angry his forehead twitched.
“Didn’t you want to drink porridge?”
Although he had silently vowed to be patient and gentle with the patient — to speak with warmth and kindness — it was hard for anyone to stay calm upon seeing their carefully prepared rice porridge, simmered over low heat since early morning, left completely untouched.
And when Chen Zemian suggested they just go out or order takeout instead, Lu Zhuonian replied coolly, “I have tribute rice at home. I don’t want porridge from outside.”
What was the difference between that and an imperial edict commanding him to make porridge?
“But you don’t eat it after it’s cooked.”
Chen Zemian made a lot of noise collecting the bowls, his dissatisfaction conveyed in the clattering, but his voice was low — just mumbling to himself, and Lu Zhuonian, sitting outside, couldn’t hear it at all. “I’ll have this porridge at noon. If you don’t eat it, you’ll be hungry.”
“They say even the most filial son will grow weary beside a long-term sickbed — and you sure changed your tune fast,” Lu Zhuonian said, his tone as elusive as ever as he suddenly appeared in the doorway of the dining room. “When you were trying to be my little brother, you were all sweetness and light. But now? In front of others you act devoted, refusing to let me die, yet after just a few days of taking care of me, you’re already smashing bowls and pots.”
Chen Zemian: “…”
He often wondered if Lu Zhuonian had a silencer on his feet — otherwise, how could he always appear without being heard?
Time passed day by day. Lu Zhuonian’s hand hadn’t healed yet, and the mother tree Dahongpao was finished first.
Chen Zemian collapsed on the sofa and shook the porcelain jar of tea. “It’s gone.”
Lu Zhuonian looked and said calmly, “Then let’s get something else to drink.”
Chen Zemian opened a tea cake, brewed two cups to drink with Lu Zhuonian, then broke off a large piece and threw it into the pot in the kitchen to cook tea eggs.
News in the second-generation circle spread faster than the internet. Lu Zhuonian wanted to hide his hand injury from his family, so he didn’t see anyone, leaving Chen Zemian alone at home to take care of him.
The two had nothing to do every day. There weren’t many things to do at home. Lu Zhuonian’s hand was broken again. He had to avoid eating alcohol and coffee. He could only drink tea, play chess, read books, and chat, living a retired life in advance.
The precious tea collection was almost wasted by the two of them.
The mother tree of Dahongpao in Wuyi Mountain probably never thought that, after being picked as a rare commodity, it would one day be stewed in a pot with milk and many glutinous rice balls, red dates, longans, taro paste, etc., to make a bowl of red date, longan, taro paste pearl milk tea.
Chen Zemian did not waste the tea leaves after boiling and used them to soak his feet.
Lu Zhuonian was injured, and it’s unclear whether his qi and blood were replenished, but Chen Zemian took good care of himself.
Drinking good tea and eating well every day even helped improve his stomachache.
In the villa, more and more things belonged to Chen Zemian.
Although Chen Zemian could clean the room, he was a boy after all — not as meticulous as the cleaning lady. There were pieces of his clothes scattered here and there, his laptop, and his separated keyboard and mouse. He had made Lu Zhuonian’s high-end, luxurious villa look lived-in and cozy.
He was like a plant — seemingly gentle and harmless, thriving, but quietly spreading and subtly changing the surrounding environment and atmosphere.
The only place not invaded was Lu Zhuonian’s bedroom.
But that was limited to the bedroom. The bathroom and cloakroom had also been messed up by Chen Zemian.
Lu Zhuonian was injured in his hands, so before every shower, Chen Zemian had to wrap his hands with plastic wrap. Naturally, there were plastic wrap, scissors, gauze, waterproof gloves, alcohol, disinfectant, and other sundries in the bathroom.
As for the cloakroom, Chen Zemian also brought a few clothes from home to change, but he found his socks missing as soon as he went out. He forgot his scarf and had to go into Lu Zhuonian’s cloakroom to look for it.
After a sudden snowstorm, the temperature in Beijing dropped sharply.
Dao Wen Siqian’s family had been cooking milk tea and pear soup too often these days, and the smart health pot at home was overused. They had to go out in the snow to buy more. To keep warm, Chen Zemian took out the long winter coat that Lu Zhuonian wore when he went to the snow mountain.
Chen Zemian was wrapped in soft, thin winter clothes, draped in Lu Zhuonian’s scarf, his palm-sized face covered two-thirds, revealing only a pair of big flickering eyes. Even though the north wind was raging and snow swirling, he was not cold at all.
As expected, expensive clothes have their reasons for being expensive — even in winter, it’s like a warm spring.
Chen Zemian hesitated for three seconds and decided to keep the winter clothes for himself.
“I don’t have such warm clothes,” Chen Zemian was too lazy to act and started snatching it directly. “If you don’t want it someday, can you give it to me?”
After this time, Lu Zhuonian already understood Chen Zemian very well and knew that even if he refused, Chen Zemian would find other ways to make him give up ownership of the winter clothes.
He couldn’t wear such thick clothes anyway.
Just give it to him.
For some unknown, strange reason, Lu Zhuonian had an indescribable feeling when he saw Chen Zemian wearing his clothes.
It’s not hate.
Lu Zhuonian glanced at Chen Zemian and said, “Say something nice, and I’ll give it to you now.”
Chen Zemian was quick-witted and immediately said, “Do I need to say that? When Lu Shao stands there, he looks extraordinary and majestic. He’s rich and generous, and he treats me very well.”
Lu Zhuonian pursed his lips and said, “I have nothing to say if you tell me in detail.”
Chen Zemian said immediately, “He is very good to me and gave me a raise… Wait a minute, my phone is vibrating. I’ll answer it first.”
Lu Zhuonian nodded slightly, “Answer it. The clothes are for you.”
Chen Zemian was extremely happy to get what he wanted. While answering the phone, he hugged Lu Zhuonian.
It’s better described as a bump than a hug.
That kind of familiarity, enthusiasm, and intimacy between good brothers.
After getting to know each other, Chen Zemian didn’t pay much attention to social distance. He was the kind of boy who was used to hugging his brothers. Even though he knew Lu Zhuonian didn’t like physical contact, he would always forget it. When he was happy, he would ignore everything and hug him if he wanted to.
He had been like this with Xiao Kesong before, then later with Liu Yuebo, sometimes with Xue Duo, and now it was Lu Zhuonian’s turn.
It was obvious whether Chen Zemian had a good relationship with someone.
He was wearing a thick, long down winter coat that was fluffy and soft, and his movements were clumsy.
Lu Zhuonian felt like he was being hugged by a large doll at the entrance of the shopping mall, and there was nothing special about it.
The psychologist’s advice was effective. Desensitization therapy has been popular for so long and has not been replaced. It really has its merits.
Compared to Chen Zemian falling into the bathtub, this level of contact — such as bumping and hugging — was not a severe test.
Chen Zemian talked on the phone for a while, then turned to look at Lu Zhuonian, covered the microphone, and asked, “Do you know Lloyd Buttigieg?”
Lu Zhuonian nodded, “Son of the shooting king William. What’s wrong?”
Chen Zemian said, “The call from the shooting range said that Lloyd has become the shooting coach of Country L and has come to China with the athletes. He wants to invite you to play a recreational game after the main schedule is over. Because you haven’t been at the shooting range, he has been waiting for several days but hasn’t seen you. He didn’t leave after the game today and insisted on waiting to see you. Manager Wang is not good at English and can’t explain it to him. He asked what to do.”
Lu Zhuonian raised his eyebrows and said, “He was very dissatisfied with losing to me the year before last. This year he’s looking for an opportunity to challenge me.”
Manager Wang’s English isn’t good, but the AK shooting range is large and hosts international competitions. There’s no one in the entire shooting range who can explain it to Lloyd.
Lloyd just doesn’t want to understand. He won’t give up until he sees Lu Zhuonian, and he’ll find ways to force him out.
With such a big fuss, if Lu Zhuonian didn’t see him, it would seem like he was afraid of him.
Chen Zemian looked at Lu Zhuonian’s right hand, which was still wrapped in bandages. “How can you compete?”
Lu Zhuonian said, “The stitches on my left hand should be removed.”
Hearing this, Chen Zemian was shocked.
Left hand stitches removed? Does Lu Zhuonian mean he will use his left hand to compete with Lloyd?
Lloyd is the son of the gun king William, and he doesn’t seem like an ordinary person. Although he lost to Lu Zhuonian two years ago, he has always claimed that his luck was too bad and has never been convinced. Since he has made a comeback today, he must have made full preparations.
Unfortunately, Lu Zhuonian was injured. The burn on his right hand healed very slowly. Fortunately, it was winter and he often used Chinese medicine to clean it, so it didn’t fester. It hasn’t healed yet and hasn’t scabbed. Although the stitches on his left hand will be removed soon, it’s not the hand he usually uses after all, so how much chance does he have of winning?
However, Chen Zemian’s understanding of Lu Zhuonian, the law of plot development, and the aura of the male protagonist… Although Lu Zhuonian has no chance of winning, he’s unlikely to lose.
Could it be that Lu Zhuonian really used his left hand to beat the son of the gun king?
Has the protagonist evolved to this level?
It’s really cool to think about.
I don’t know if it’s a psychological effect. Chen Zemian was unfamiliar with Lloyd’s name at first, and of course he didn’t have any impression after thinking carefully, but when he saw Lu Zhuonian’s calm and composed appearance, he was very confident that Lu Zhuonian could win.
In a flash of inspiration, he remembered the legend of Lu Zhuonian’s three consecutive victories over the son of the gun king in the original book.
The first game was the year before last, and Lu Zhuonian won the first game. This is the second game this year, and it should be a sure win.
After all, the book says it’s a three-game winning streak, so the result should be √√√.
It can’t be √×√√√.
There is no such streak. The key is —
But then again, the book didn’t mention that Lu Zhuonian’s hands were injured. I don’t know if it happened but wasn’t written, or if Chen Zemian hadn’t suggested boiling milk to help him sleep, Lu Zhuonian wouldn’t have suffered this disaster.
Don’t let boiling milk ruin Lu Zhuonian’s three-game winning streak.
Then will Lu Zhuonian win?
Chen Zemian was a little confused. He looked at the player himself in confusion and asked, “How is your left hand recovering?”
Lu Zhuonian said lightly, “I went to the hospital to see if I could remove the stitches. I haven’t been active for a long time, and it will take a few more days to rehabilitate.”
Chen Zemian looked at Lu Zhuonian’s left hand, “I worked for you for so long, and I didn’t know you could still shoot with your left hand.”
“Shooting doesn’t just require having a hand,” Lu Zhuonian turned and walked towards the parking lot, his back chic and handsome, and he was arrogant. “You can shoot, but whether you can hit depends on luck.”
Chen Zemian: “…”
It all depends on luck — what are you still proud of!
Chen Zemian was even more anxious than Lu Zhuonian himself. He chased after him and asked, “Is it possible? Lloyd has come to our doorstep. What if we lose?”
Lu Zhuonian was very indifferent at this time. “Winning and losing are common. How can anyone win all the time in this world?”
Chen Zemian said, “But you always won before.”
Lu Zhuonian was silent for a few seconds, as if recalling his previous life. After a moment, he agreed with Chen Zemian’s statement. “Yes, no matter what kind of competition it is, I will win as long as I want to win.”
Chen Zemian breathed a sigh of relief. “So it’s okay this time, right?”
Lu Zhuonian was very curious about where Chen Zemian got such a strong desire to win, and asked in surprise. “Is it important to win or lose?”
Chen Zemian nodded vigorously. “I really want you to win!”
Lu Zhuonian said, “There’s no way to think about it. It depends on fate.”
Depend on fate…
Chen Zemian suddenly became clear, jumped up excitedly, and slapped Lu Zhuonian on the shoulder. “Is your fate still bad?”
Chen Zemian had to admit that Lu Zhuonian was indeed lucky — so lucky that it made people grit their teeth.
Lu Zhuonian was very idle during this period, so idle that he started to read the novels recommended by Chen Zemian.
Online articles are similar to short dramas and short videos. After watching them, you become addicted. It’s the kind of electronic drug that makes you complain inwardly that this is too outrageous, yet you can’t help but stay up late to watch more.
Lu Zhuonian, who was in a good mood, was also somewhat addicted to it. It was rare for Lu Shao to be interested, and Chen Zemian happened to have a lot of physical books at home, so he moved them over for him to read. The two of them could also discuss the plot together, and they had a common hobby.
One day, Chen Zemian suddenly found Lu Zhuonian holding a philosophy book, so he asked him. “Why don’t you read the novel I brought you?”
“It’s boring after reading too much. It’s all routine,” Lu Zhuonian sat on the luxurious leather sofa, turned a page of Rorty’s Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature, glanced at the out-of-favor cool novel on the coffee table, and said slowly.
“And it’s not cool either.”
Chen Zemian: “…”
In contrast to the easy life of Lu Zhuonian, the prince of the Beijing circle, the experience of the protagonist of the cool novel also pales in comparison.
Recalling Lu Zhuonian’s hateful remarks about “fantastic writing is not fun,” Chen Zemian sighed again. “You’re so lucky, Lu Zhuonian. Everything goes smoothly, and you have everything you want.”
“My luck is really good,” Lu Zhuonian looked at Chen Zemian and raised his hand wrapped in gauze bandages. “Before I met you, there weren’t so many inexplicable disasters.”
Chen Zemian wanted to argue but found there was no way to, so he could only wrinkle his nose in frustration.
Lu Zhuonian bent his bandaged knuckles and gently touched the tip of Chen Zemian’s nose. “There aren’t so many strange and wonderful things.”
For some reason, Chen Zemian suddenly felt a little embarrassed.
He coughed lightly and changed the subject, talking about business. “Manager Wang said that Lloyd couldn’t find you, so he always wanted to challenge Yan Luo to a match. Why did Lloyd make things difficult for Yan Luo?”
Lu Zhuonian explained, “Part of the Yan family’s business is overseas, involving arms and gun trading, so the Yan family members are very familiar with guns and skilled at using them. When Lloyd and I competed two years ago, he met Yan Luo.”
Chen Zemian suddenly realized, “How old is Yan Luo? Isn’t this bullying a child?”
Lu Zhuonian glanced at Chen Zemian. “How many years older are you than Yan Luo? You say he’s a child.”
Chen Zemian often forgot that physically he was only 19 years old and that his birthday was a few months after Lu Zhuonian’s. Pretending to be deep, he said, “I’m older mentally.”
Lu Zhuonian laughed, “Really? Not too obvious.”
Chen Zemian got angry and said, “Why not? To tell you the truth, I’m 27 mentally. You’re all younger brothers.”
Lu Zhuonian’s eyes paused on Chen Zemian’s face for two seconds, then he suddenly asked, “Chen Zemian, what’s your zodiac sign?”
Chen Zemian opened his mouth and almost revealed his real zodiac sign, but swallowed the words quickly.
He didn’t know Chen Zhe’s zodiac sign and couldn’t check the calendar immediately.
Chen Zemian remained unflustered and said cleverly, “I have the same zodiac sign as you.”
Lu Zhuonian raised his sword-like eyebrows slightly but didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he handled it gently and said lightly, “As expected of a 27-year-old, you are indeed shrewd and calculating.”
Chen Zemian pushed Lu Zhuonian, “That’s maturity.”
Lu Zhuonian looked at the fist on his shoulder. “You are so mature.”
Chen Zemian hissed softly and raised his fist to hit again.
Lu Zhuonian held down Chen Zemian’s fist. “I can only use my left hand now, and you keep hitting my left shoulder. When I lose the game, you’ll feel unhappy again.”
Chen Zemian choked and coughed. “Can you say something normal, human? What do you mean, I’m unhappy if you lose, and I’ll be happy if you win?”
“According to my observation, it seems so.” Lu Zhuonian thought, “You care more about my winning or losing than I do, and you think it’s natural that I should be like this.”
Lu Zhuonian is not left-handed and has always relied more on his right hand in daily life. After the stitches on his left hand were removed, he couldn’t even hold chopsticks steadily.
But even so, Chen Zemian never doubted that he could hold a gun with his left hand, as if he knew he would win and was sure of it.
This is too unreasonable.
“Where do you get your conclusions from, Chen Zemian?”
Lu Zhuonian leaned forward slightly and asked slowly, “You seem to have hidden a lot of things in your heart that I don’t know. I started to doubt it when you saved Shen Qingwan.”
Chen Zemian didn’t expect Lu Zhuonian to be so sharp. His pupils shrank slightly, and his whole aura weakened all of a sudden. He stammered, “Suspicion, what?”
Lu Zhuonian said concisely, “The incident hasn’t happened yet. How do you know she will be in trouble?”
Hearing this, Chen Zemian’s heartbeat suddenly accelerated.
Lu Zhuonian’s eyes were deep and solemn. “You have information channels that I don’t know and can’t find. I used to suspect who sent you to approach me, but then I thought about it, and it didn’t seem like it.”
Chen Zemian didn’t dare speak. He slowly lowered his head, and his hands unconsciously clenched the corners of his clothes.
Lu Zhuonian looked at him quietly for a few seconds before asking slowly, “Chen Zemian, since you like to read exciting novels, when you see things develop in the direction you foresee and expect, do you also feel a sense of satisfaction that everything is under control?”
Chen Zemian held his breath; his heartbeat almost stopped from nervousness, and even his flesh and blood felt frozen.
What made people most uneasy was not Lu Zhuonian’s guess that he was close to the truth, but the indescribable sense of shame.
It was like reading a male-oriented book in a high school classroom, being discovered by the teacher, and asked to read aloud in public; or the shame and social death of having all the searched and browsed pages on your phone made public.
He wished he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.
It was like having his cards revealed and his soul seen through.
The bystander, who was free from the whole book, was suddenly dragged into this world.
The people in the book were just a hair away from his darkest and most private secrets, almost about to glimpse his most unknown vulgar and exciting point — controlling the rhythm of the plot and the omniscient God’s perspective.
It was so shameful!!!
Chen Zemian didn’t dare look at Lu Zhuonian again. He looked away and grabbed the nonexistent down on his jacket, saying stubbornly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Look at me,” Lu Zhuonian gently lifted Chen Zemian’s chin and looked into his eyes. “Chen Zemian, if I wanted to interrogate you, there would be many ways to get the truth from you, but I didn’t do that. Do you know why?”
The moment he looked into Lu Zhuonian’s eyes, Chen Zemian’s brain completely stopped functioning, and he was stunned for a full ten seconds before he found his voice.
Chen Zemian stuttered, “Because, because you believe in judicial justice.”
Lu Zhuonian: “…”
Chen Zemian stared at Lu Zhuonian, blinked very slowly, and his voice floated like a puff of smoke: “And you are a good person.”
“I’m not a good person,” Lu Zhuonian pressed his thumb on Chen Zemian’s jaw and said in a deep voice, “Tear off the high-sounding appearance. Everyone has twisted and intertwined desires under the skin. You should not avoid it. When reality is consistent with inner assumptions, it’s normal to feel happy.”
Lu Zhuonian was so frank that Chen Zemian really couldn’t look into his eyes and lie.
Chen Zemian looked away and whispered, “I just know that you are a good shooter and have beaten Lloyd, so I guess you won’t lose.”
Lu Zhuonian responded, “So if I win this time, you’ll guess right again. Will you feel good?”
Chen Zemian nodded lightly and looked unconsciously at Lu Zhuonian’s left hand. “Then can you win?”
“Don’t worry.”
Lu Zhuonian finally stopped interrogating Chen Zemian and said lightly, “I will make you feel good.”
*****
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Author: LazyHermitGal
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