Unexpectedly, Lu Zhuonian rejected his application for mutual assistance.
The reason? He hadn’t had an attack tonight and didn’t need Chen Zemian’s help.
Chen Zemian placed a hand on Lu Zhuonian’s shoulder. “Moderate exercise is good for regulating physical and mental health.”
Lu Zhuonian raised an eyebrow. “Is that how all you straight men ‘regulate’?”
“Not really,” Chen Zemian replied.
When Lu Zhuonian wasn’t having an episode, he was composed and self-disciplined, completely immune to indulgence. If he said no, he meant it. He simply pushed Chen Zemian out. “Go entertain yourself.”
Chen Zemian clung to the doorframe, reluctant to leave. “That’s boring.”
Lu Zhuonian frowned. “What do you mean?”
Though they were the only two in the villa, Chen Zemian still lowered his voice. “I just… can’t feel anything.”
Lu Zhuonian turned to look at him, surprised.
Chen Zemian didn’t know the real culprit was the medicinal soup. Irritated, he pointed the finger at Lu Zhuonian. “What are you staring at? It’s your fault my orientation’s gone out of balance!”
It was the first time Lu Zhuonian had heard someone describe sexual orientation as ‘out of balance.’ “So what should I do?”
Chen Zemian, ever easy-going, adapted quickly. Not only did he not reject Lu Zhuonian’s help when sober, he’d even come up with his own logic. “Hangovers make your head ache. Exercise speeds up alcohol metabolism—keeps you from feeling awful the next day.”
“You sound experienced.” Lu Zhuonian pushed him off the bed. “Go back to your room and do it yourself. I’m going to sleep.”
Chen Zemian didn’t move. He didn’t speak either. He just stared at Lu Zhuonian, eyes full of longing.
It took Lu Zhuonian less than two seconds to figure out what he wanted.
Chen Zemian’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. He raised the cat-ear headband in his hand. “It’s even better if I wear these.”
“…”
Although Lu Zhuonian remained composed for now, he knew he wouldn’t last long listening to Chen Zemian’s coaxing voice. But he truly didn’t want anything to happen tonight, so he deliberately raised the bar.
He made a condition he thought Chen Zemian would never accept.
Chen Zemian hesitated.
Just before Lu Zhuonian could shut the door, he heard Chen Zemian murmur, “Okay.”
Lu Zhuonian’s hand froze for a moment, but he still pushed him out. “It’s late.”
Seeing how firm his attitude was, Chen Zemian wrinkled his nose, sulking all the way back to his room.
After the hangover, he woke up very early the next day.
His head ached, heavy and sluggish, and though he was exhausted, he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in bed until 7:30, then got up, freshened up, and headed downstairs.
The chef served a bowl of freshly stewed bird’s nest.
Chen Zemian assumed it was just the dessert of the day and gulped it down in a few sips.
During breakfast, he leaned on the table with his head resting in one hand, staring resentfully at Lu Zhuonian.
Lu Zhuonian ignored him completely.
Chen Zemian bit into a red bean bun angrily. “I got up early today. I’m heading to the studio this morning. May Day’s coming—we’ve got to plan promotional events for the game.”
Lu Zhuonian said coolly, “You don’t have to report your schedule to me.”
Chen Zemian continued anyway. “Going to the stock exchange this afternoon.”
Lu Zhuonian paused mid-bite. “You’re investing in stocks?”
Chen Zemian slowly split open the bun, eating the side with the bean paste filling first, then drawled, “I don’t have to tell you what I’m doing, right?”
Lu Zhuonian didn’t get angry. Instead, he laughed. “Chen Zemian, you’ve got four words written all over your face right now.”
Chen Zemian: “What four words?”
Lu Zhuonian glanced at the cleaning staff tidying up the kitchen, then sent a message on his phone.
Chen Zemian opened it and saw four bold characters:
Sexually frustrated.
Chen Zemian narrowed his eyes and threw the half-eaten red bean bun at Lu Zhuonian.
Lu Zhuonian dodged it with a slight tilt of his head. “You’re wasting food.”
“I’ll pick it up and eat it,” Chen Zemian retorted.
“You wouldn’t eat it even if it didn’t have stuffing,” Lu Zhuonian said knowingly.
Chen Zemian: “…”
Lu Zhuonian called the chef over. “Next time you make red bean and custard buns, stuff them more generously.”
Somehow, that calmed Chen Zemian. He even explained why he was going to the stock exchange. “I’m going with Zheng Huaiyu. Heard he’s doing well lately—his dad’s calling him back to manage the family business, so he gave him some money to invest as a trial.”
“Sounds good,” Lu Zhuonian said.
“What’s good about it?” Chen Zemian sighed. “I don’t know the first thing about investing. The Zheng family’s all about investment, and yet he didn’t ask a single consultant. Insisted on dragging me along. You know why?”
Lu Zhuonian, familiar with Zheng Huaiyu’s ways, guessed easily. “Because the consultants are old and ugly?”
Chen Zemian gave him a thumbs up. “Bingo. He said ugly people bring bad luck.”
Lu Zhuonian smiled, but didn’t comment further.
“Any stocks you’re optimistic about?” Chen Zemian asked.
Lu Zhuonian casually named two.
Chen Zemian jotted them down like a diligent student, assuming all he’d need to do at the stock exchange was tell someone, “I want to buy XX.”
Turns out, it wasn’t that simple.
The trading hall was packed, buzzing with people, with thousands of A-share stocks flashing across the massive electronic board.
Scarlet numbers filled the screen.
Chen Zemian searched, but couldn’t find the stocks Lu Zhuonian had mentioned.
Zheng Huaiyu, who couldn’t stand the noise, urged, “Just pick two and let’s get out of here.”
Chen Zemian hesitated. “We’ll lose money.”
Zheng Huaiyu gave him a look. “I’ve seen your studio’s financials. You’re worth over a hundred million. Can you stop being stingy?”
Chen Zemian stopped thinking. His eyes glazed over as he stared blankly at the glowing board, brain adrift.
“Hurry up.” Impatient, Zheng Huaiyu tossed him a bank card. “Here—10 million. Treat it as practice. If you make money, keep it. If you lose, it’s on me.”
Chen Zemian: “…”
Zheng Huaiyu didn’t want to stay a minute longer. He handed the bank card to Chen Zemian and turned to leave.
Chen Zemian could only pick two stocks at random.
By the time he left the exchange, he had already forgotten the names of the stocks he’d just bought.
It didn’t matter—he could check on the mobile app later.
He’d think about it then.
From the moment he entered the stock exchange to the moment he left, it took forty minutes to open and register an account, and just ten minutes to buy the stocks.
It all felt a bit rushed. Seeing that it was still early, Chen Zemian headed to the shooting range to visit Yan Luo.
There were less than two months left before the college entrance examination. It was the final sprint. Yan Luo was studying hard. When Chen Zemian arrived, the boy was still correcting papers and copying down mistakes.
The moment Yan Luo saw him, his eyes lit up. He stood and called out, “Brother.”
Boys at seventeen or eighteen changed quickly. After not seeing him for a while, Chen Zemian was struck by how different he looked—taller, thinner.
“Why have you lost weight?”
Chen Zemian gave him a once-over and frowned. The kid looked terrible. “You’ve got dark circles. Have you been staying up late doing exercises?”
Yan Luo shook his head. “No. Why are you here? Aren’t you busy today?”
Chen Zemian set the lunch box in his hand on the table. “I’m not busy every day.”
Yan Luo nodded slowly. After a pause, he asked, “Then why don’t you come?”
Chen Zemian said, “You’re about to take the college entrance exam. I can’t help you with your homework, and if I take you out to play, it’ll just distract you from studying.”
Looking at the food he liked on the table, Yan Luo’s slightly uneasy expression eased a little. He responded with a soft, “Oh.”
Chen Zemian turned to look at him. “‘Oh’? What do you mean ‘oh’? Come eat—it won’t taste good if it gets cold.”
Yan Luo picked up the chopsticks and mumbled, “It wouldn’t delay my studying…”
Seeing the boy’s abandoned-puppy look, Chen Zemian suddenly realized he hadn’t visited once in all this time. No wonder the kid felt neglected. He quickly sat down and coaxed him.
Yan Luo was easy to coax.
Chen Zemian promised to come to the shooting range more often and also agreed to take him out for fun after the exams.
Right now, Yan Luo was racing against time. He didn’t go to the cafeteria at noon. He had eaten only a meat pie from the morning and some leftover porridge. At his age, with all the academic pressure, his meager lunch had long been digested. Chen Zemian’s meal came just in time.
After lunch, Yan Luo leaned on the iron bed railing, chatting with Chen Zemian. After a while, his head began to droop—he was clearly sleepy.
Chen Zemian said, “Take a nap. I’ll wake you up in half an hour.”
Between doing practice tests and chatting with Chen Zemian, sleep was the last thing Yan Luo wanted to choose—but he really was exhausted. He forced himself to stay awake to say a few more words before finally dozing off on his desk.
Knowing he was a light sleeper, Chen Zemian didn’t move him. He stepped out quietly and headed to Manager Wang’s office.
When Manager Wang saw the second-in-command arrive, he quickly stood up to greet him.
After a few polite exchanges, Chen Zemian got to the point. “Yan Luo’s college entrance exam is in just over a month. Don’t make him help out at the shooting range anymore. If there’s no one to clean the guns, I’ll come more often myself.”
Manager Wang nodded quickly. “No, no, we’ve already stopped assigning him anything. I even told the cafeteria chef that if he sees Yan Luo next time, he should serve him first. The kid’s study schedule is too tight—he shouldn’t waste time queuing.”
Chen Zemian thought for a moment. “I noticed he seems to eat only in the morning, and he rarely shows up at lunch… How about this—I’ll arrange for someone to deliver his lunch. Does he go to the cafeteria for dinner?”
Manager Wang looked a bit awkward. “I honestly didn’t know until the past couple of days. He’s been going to the hospital at night.”
Chen Zemian’s expression changed. “What happened?”
Manager Wang replied, “It’s not him—it’s the old man from the Yan family. He fell in the shower a while back and he’s not doing well. Someone from the Yan family said the old man wants to see his grandson—he won’t close his eyes until he does.”
Chen Zemian frowned. “If he wants to see his grandson, then why are you doing anything else?”
Manager Wang looked equally exasperated with the Yan family. “Exactly. What does ‘not closing his eyes’ have to do with dragging the kid out of school? Think about all the rotten things the Yan family has done over the years… Frankly, they should be forced to keep their eyes wide open forever.”
Chen Zemian asked, “Is Yan Luo still going tonight? It’s already been two nights in a row—he hasn’t even had time to recover.”
“He probably is,” Manager Wang said. “The old man’s condition is serious. He’s comatose most of the time, only waking for brief periods. If Yan Luo wants to catch him when he’s awake, he has to keep vigil night after night.”
Chen Zemian cursed under his breath. “They’re insane.”
Manager Wang was just as outraged. “Look at other families—afraid of affecting their kids’ exams, they keep bad news from them. But this lot? A grandfather who hasn’t shown his face in seventeen years ends up in a coma, and they have the nerve to call the boy over? I wanted to punch someone when I heard it. And they even said something like, ‘We know your studies are important, so you don’t need to come during the day. Just be filial at night.’ As if the kid doesn’t need to sleep!”
The more Chen Zemian listened, the angrier he became. His blood pressure was rising. After asking which hospital it was, he made up his mind to go there that night.
With the word “filial piety” being used as a weapon, Yan Luo couldn’t refuse. So Chen Zemian decided to step in and face the Yan family himself—reason with them, appeal to emotion, and solve the issue as calmly as possible.
*****
23:30, late night — XX Police Station, Beijing Public Security Bureau
After Lu Zhuonian posted bail, he led Chen Zemian and Yan Luo out of the station.
Chen Zemian trailed silently behind Lu Zhuonian. Neither of them said a word.
The three of them walked across the brightly lit police station lobby.
Yan Luo whispered, trying to explain on Chen Zemian’s behalf, “Brother really did try to reason with them. It was Third Aunt who accused me of stealing, and my father hit me first. Brother just fought back… It’s just that my father’s old and his bones are brittle. It was an accident—no one’s really to blame.”
Lu Zhuonian paused and looked back at Chen Zemian.
Chen Zemian met his gaze.
“…”
They stared at each other in silence.
A faint, awkward tension slowly spread in the air.
*****
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