Uh-oh.
The city boy was mad.
The city boy was about to throw a tantrum.
Chen Jian trailed behind the city boy toward the elevator.
“Store Manager Chen,” Lao Wu stood in front of the stairs, one hand propped on the vacuum cleaner and the other on his hip, looking at him. “I need to talk to you about something.”
Shan Yu pressed the elevator button, casting a brief glance at Lao Wu.
“After lunch, then,” Lao Wu quickly added.
Shan Yu stepped inside.
“Mm,” Chen Jian acknowledged, following him into the cab.
Just as he was about to press the floor button, Shan Yu suddenly put an arm out to stop him: “Is there any Coke Zero left on the first floor?”
“Yeah,” Chen Jian tapped the door open button. “Want me to grab one for you?”
“Mm.” Shan Yu nodded.
“Wait here.” Chen Jian stepped out of the elevator.
Lao Wu was still standing there, one hand on the vacuum and the other on his hip.
“Playing temple guardian?” Chen Jian said. “Why don’t you go stand by the front entrance instead?”
“Taking a breather!” Lao Wu said.
There wasn’t any Coke left behind the bar counter, so Chen Jian headed over to the beverage cooler in the cafe area to grab a bottle. Passing the front desk on his way back, he grabbed a few small biscuits as well.
Returning to the elevator, he found the doors already closed, and the display showed it was heading up to the third floor.
Chen Jian glanced at Lao Wu, who was still standing in the exact same pose with his vacuum cleaner.
“Guests on the third floor called it up,” Lao Wu chuckled halfway through his explanation. “He didn’t even know enough to hold down the door open button.”
“Guests aren’t allowed to use the elevator anymore?” Chen Jian eyed the indicator; it was already descending.
Lao Wu clicked his tongue.
“Zero sense of customer service,” Chen Jian muttered.
“Are we having staff training after the holidays?” Lao Wu asked. “Sanbing told me we’re doing systematic training.”
“Mm,” Chen Jian nodded.
“Will anyone who fails get fired?” Lao Wu asked.
Chen Jian turned to look at him: “Who would fail? Everyone’s doing great even without training; after training, you’ll only do better.”
“You really know how to talk,” Lao Wu pointed a finger at him. “Even if you can be pretty heartless sometimes.”
Chen Jian said nothing.
He wasn’t sure if the “heartless” Lao Wu was referring to was the fact that he was withholding his wages.
The elevator returned to the ground floor. When the doors slid open, several guests stepped out, while Shan Yu remained leaning casually against the corner of the cab.
“Why’d you ride it all the way back down?” Chen Jian stepped inside and pressed the button for the fourth floor.
“Worried you wouldn’t be able to find me,” Shan Yu said.
“Very funny,” Chen Jian handed him the Coke. “Me, unable to find you? Forget Dayin—in the entirety of Hongye Town, I could track you down in either your office or the gym.”
Shan Yu paused, then let out a laugh.
“Where else could you possibly go?” Chen Jian said.
“Going on field surveys with Lu Yun,” Shan Yu said.
Hearing that, Chen Jian’s eyebrows shot straight up, his eyes locking onto him.
“Knew it was about that,” Shan Yu pinched his chin and gave it a gentle shake. As the elevator doors parted, he stepped out. “Child.”
“You’re the one who brought it up, not me.” Chen Jian followed him out.
Shan Yu entered the office, grabbed a glass from the table, poured some Coke into it, and took a sip.
“Is it about that?” he asked.
Chen Jian said nothing. He walked over, picked up the Coke bottle, and took a swig straight from it.
It was about that.
Yet he had zero way of admitting it out loud, because it was completely irrational—utterly without rhyme or reason.
“Felt like you couldn’t get a word in,” Shan Yu looked at him, “didn’t you?”
“With talk that sophisticated, it’s only normal that I couldn’t get a word in,” Chen Jian said.
Hard as it was to admit, once the topic was broached, he couldn’t hold back for even a single second.
Shan Yu smiled faintly: “So this is… jealousy?”
“Guess so,” Chen Jian said. “If you went with just me, you definitely wouldn’t have had such an exhilarating conversation…”
“What on earth is your definition of ‘exhilarating’?” Shan Yu asked.
“The two of you never stopped talking,” Chen Jian looked at him.
“He’s here surveying projects. A workaholic wants to extract every shred of required information in the shortest time possible,” Shan Yu said. “All I did was coordinate with his work to get him what he needed as quickly as possible.”
Chen Jian fell silent.
Of course he understood the logic.
Yet jealousy was never a matter of logic.
“Next time something like this happens,” Shan Yu set his glass down and wrapped an arm around him, “you can go instead.”
“Who are you insulting?” Chen Jian said. “I can barely even understand what the two of you were discussing.”
Shan Yu rested his chin on Chen Jian’s shoulder, laughing softly: “Then next time we’ll send Sun Nana. She majored in philosophy in college; maybe she’ll work wonders.”
“She studied philosophy?” Chen Jian was stunned. “How did you know that?”
“Came up when we were chatting about the highest education levels at Dayin during card games the other day,” Shan Yu smiled.
That would work too. Sun Nana was gorgeous, well-mannered, and seemed to have decent English, but…
“I’ve realized something,” Chen Jian frowned slightly, reaching around to wrap his arms around Shan Yu’s waist. “Is my behavior right now technically interfering with your actual work?”
“Not really,” Shan Yu said. “It would only count if you had beaten Lu Yun up back at Shannan.”
“…I wouldn’t go that far,” Chen Jian said. “If I actually hit him, that wouldn’t just be interfering with your work—that’d be hindering the whole town’s development.”
“What a sinner you are, Chen Jian,” Shan Yu teased.
“And whose fault would that be?!” Chen Jian retorted.
“Mine,” Shan Yu said.
“Not Lu Yun’s?” Chen Jian asked.
“Whoa,” Shan Yu blinked. “Can’t let my guard down around you for a second, can I?”
Chen Jian smiled faintly, tightening his hold on Shan Yu. He buried his face in the crook of Shan Yu’s neck and shut his eyes.
No good.
He was still annoyed.
The kind of annoyance where I know all the logic, but I’m still sour.
The kind of annoyance from knowing he was throwing an unreasonable tantrum.
The annoyance of feeling like he was being completely childish.
The annoyance that followed realizing he felt childish…
He tilted his head and bit down onto Shan Yu’s neck.
“Gently!” Shan Yu hissed.
Chen Jian didn’t say a word, letting out only a muffled “Hmph.” With his teeth clamped over Shan Yu’s neck, he neither let go nor bit harder, simply keeping him held lightly between his teeth.
“Let me wash my face,” Shan Yu patted his back. “Back in the village earlier, the wind blew dust all over me. Didn’t you taste it?”
“My mouth is full of vinegar right now.” Chen Jian finally let go.
“Is this your very first time being jealous in your entire life?” Shan Yu flicked the tip of Chen Jian’s nose playfully, turning into the bathroom to wash up.
“Yeah,” Chen Jian stared at his retreating back. “Which is why I only just realized—every time you acted jealous before, you were faking it.”
“Now that’s a fresh perspective…” Shan Yu turned his head to look back, water droplets still clinging to his face. “A little jealousy really sharpened your critical thinking, didn’t it?”
Chen Jian clicked his tongue.
Shan Yu wiped the moisture from his chin, walked into the bedroom, opened the wardrobe, and pulled out a clean sweatshirt, stripping off his dusty shirt.
“What are you doing?” Chen Jian watched him.
“Changing clothes,” Shan Yu said. “Covered in dust.”
“So particular,” Chen Jian muttered.
“Can’t help it,” Shan Yu said. “We city folks are just—”
Before he could finish the sentence, Chen Jian swept in from the bedroom doorway like a whirlwind, hooked an arm around Shan Yu’s waist, drove forward with his momentum, and tackled him straight onto the bed.
“Holy shit,” Shan Yu’s head spun slightly from the sudden, unexpected slam. “Are we playing rugby now?”
“Yeah,” Chen Jian grunted in response, though neither of them knew what he was actually agreeing to.
In the very next second, Chen Jian pushed off the mattress, sprang back up, yanked his own clothes off in one fluid motion, and pounced straight back down.
From this seamless, zero-wasted-motion maneuver alone, it was blatantly clear that Chen Jian was genuinely formidable in a brawl…
Chen Jian’s scorching breath landed against his ear, his lips, his neck, and his chest, sweeping across his skin with unbridled brute force accompanied by the faint, sharp sting of teeth nipping into flesh.
Shan Yu’s palm pressed firmly against his back, sliding down inch by inch, his fingertips tracing smoothly across heated skin.
As his hand dipped past the small of Chen Jian’s back, his wrist was abruptly caught in Chen Jian’s iron grip and pinned flat to the mattress beside him. Chen Jian rose slightly, leaning over toward the nightstand.
“Right now?” Shan Yu asked.
“What,” Chen Jian yanked the nightstand drawer open, grabbed the supplies inside, and tossed them onto the sheets, “do you need to consult the lunar almanac first?”
Shan Yu didn’t answer, letting out a breathless laugh.
Chen Jian grabbed him by the ankle, dragging him bodily toward himself, then seized the hem of his sweatpants and yanked hard.
Like he had a personal vendetta against them.
If the fabric hadn’t been heavy fleece, that sheer force would have torn the pants to shreds right then and there.
When Chen Jian came down over him once more, there was no longer any barrier between their bodies. Every press, every rub of skin sent synchronized shivers rippling through them.
Chen Jian’s movements were far from practiced, driven purely by instinct with a touch of rough, unrefined force, crashing into his senses like heavy blows. Brief pinpricks of sharp sensation were instantly swallowed by waves of intense, dizzying stimulation.
All around them dissolved into a dazzling kaleidoscope of colorful flares, the entire world plunging into sweet, chaotic oblivion…
By the time the light in the room gradually settled back into focus, Shan Yu was staring blankly at the ceiling fixture. Sunlight filtered through the sliver between the drawn curtains, casting a wide, fan-shaped glow across the room.
As Chen Jian pushed himself upright, his entire silhouette was bathed in that soft halo. Tiny beads of sweat resting on the bridge of his nose caught the light, sparkling faintly with each unsettled breath, while the fine peach fuzz on his face was traced in pale gold.
Shan Yu lifted a hand and lightly grazed his lips.
Then he closed his eyes, exhaling a long, shuddering breath.
Chen Jian looked down at him: “Shan Yu.”
“Hm?” Shan Yu answered softly.
“Nothing,” Chen Jian said. “Just wanted to say your name.”
“What time is it?” Shan Yu asked.
“Just past noon,” Chen Jian said.
“Hurry up and shower,” Shan Yu murmured. “When it’s lunchtime, the boss going missing is normal; if the store manager goes missing, people will find it strange.”
“Together,” Chen Jian said.
“I don’t want to move right now,” Shan Yu said.
“…I didn’t hurt you, did I?” A sudden note of anxious panic crept into Chen Jian’s voice.
“No,” Shan Yu opened his eyes, looking up at him. “Just catching my breath.”
“Does it hurt?” Chen Jian pressed.
“For fuck’s sake,” Shan Yu turned his head away. “You’re never this blunt about anything else, are you?”
“How else am I supposed to ask?” Chen Jian said.
“…Did you shoot your brains out or something?” Shan Yu muttered. “I’m just catching my breath. Gathering my wits.”
“Shan Yu,” Chen Jian paused, then couldn’t hold back a laugh, “that’s what you call blunt, isn’t it?”
“Weren’t you the one who forced it out of me?” Shan Yu sighed.
Chen Jian thoroughly enjoyed showering with Shan Yu. In that steamy, enclosed space, holding Shan Yu close made him feel as if they were two shumai dumplings pressed together in a bamboo steamer—imbuing him with a deep sense of tranquil peace.
Their shower didn’t last very long today, however. The walkie-talkie resting on the bathroom vanity suddenly crackled with static, followed by Zhao Fangfang’s booming voice echoing out: “Lunch is ready!”
Zhao Fangfang naturally spoke with a booming, resonant register; inside the tiled bathroom, that shout sounded like a detonation of thunder.
“Fuck your entire family, Chen Jian, I’m going to kill you!” Shan Yu had been leaning comfortably against him, but the sudden blast scared him so badly he snapped bolt upright. “Are you insane, bringing that damn thing into the bathroom?!”
“I literally turned the volume down earlier… Zhao-jie’s pipes are just too strong,” Chen Jian was startled out of his wits as well, hastily reaching over to grab the walkie-talkie. “I was just worried they’d call for lunch before we finished…”
He keyed the mic and spoke: “On our way.”
“Coming!” Hu Pan’s cheerful voice immediately chimed in over the channel.
When Chen Jian hurried downstairs, he hadn’t even had time to blow-dry his hair properly—only managing to run the dryer over the tips before pulling his knit beanie over his head. The boss, naturally, took his sweet time tidying up in the bedroom upstairs.
“Xiao Dou’er,” Sun Nana held a can of Wangzai milk in one hand and a carton of fruit juice in the other, “which one do you want to drink?”
Xiao Dou’er sat at the dining table, looking between the two containers, hesitating for a long time before whispering softly, “I want both.”
“Oh my,” Sun Nana laughed. “Then you get both.”
“But I can’t finish them,” Xiao Dou’er said.
“We’ll split them—half and half,” Sun Nana said.
“Okay!” Xiao Dou’er nodded happily.
“Should I pack a separate portion for Boss Shan?” Zhao Fangfang asked Chen Jian.
“No need,” Chen Jian said. “He’ll be down to eat in a minute. Right now he’s… on a phone call.”
During the New Year holidays, Shan Yu had consistently come down to eat all his meals in person, driven entirely by his desire to join the bustling crowd.
“Forgot to ask earlier,” Chen Jian brought a dish over to the table. “What happened with He Liang afterward? Lu Yun didn’t spare him a shred of face today; he looked pretty mortified.”
“Thick skin on that one,” Chen Erhu said. “The second your cars pulled away, he walked right inside.”
“Hm?” Chen Jian looked at him.
“Came in to shoot the breeze,” Sun Nana poured juice for Xiao Dou’er. “Clearly trying to fish for intel. Too bad none of us had any clue why Lu Yun showed up either, so we couldn’t provide any intelligence even if we wanted to.”
“Give me some juice too,” Hu Pan pushed her glass over.
Sun Nana poured a splash for her.
“Shan Yu shouldn’t have given him an out today,” Chen Erhu clicked his tongue repeatedly. “Give that guy face and he won’t take it; he just tosses it straight onto the ground.”
“Stuck right to the bottom of my shoe,” Sanbing quipped.
“What did?” Lao Si asked. He was on the afternoon shift and had just walked through the doors.
“Face,” Lao Wu said.
“Whose face?” Lao Si asked.
“He Liang’s!” Sanbing answered, sounding thoroughly exasperated.
“What? Did a brawl break out?” Lao Si’s eyes lit up instantly.
“Where the hell are you getting a brawl from?” Sanbing was utterly speechless. “He Liang! Who would fight him?!”
“Didn’t you step on his face?” Lao Si argued.
Xiao Dou’er, who had been tilting her head and listening intently the entire time, suddenly burst into peals of laughter.
The entire table couldn’t hold it together anymore, erupting into hearty laughter right along with her.
“Eat,” Chen Erhu picked up his bowl. “Time to eat.”
“If there’s nothing pressing this afternoon, let’s hold a quick meeting in the cafe,” Chen Jian said. “Everyone bring up what we need to improve around the inn—service-wise or hardware-wise, say whatever comes to mind.”
“Can I say it now?” Lao Wu asked.
“No,” Chen Jian shut him down decisively.
“Fine,” Lao Wu sighed.
“Boss Shan mentioned setting up a social media account,” Sanbing asked. “Is that for real?”
“Yes,” Chen Jian nodded. “If you have any ideas, bring them up this afternoon. We’ll brainstorm together on how to tackle it.”
“What kind of account? Are we filming mini-drama skits?” Lao Wu asked.
“What kind of guesthouse films mini-dramas?” Chen Erhu scoffed. “Watch less of that brain-rot trash on your phone.”
“It’s not entirely out of the question,” Shan Yu’s voice drifted over from the stairs. “We can try anything.”
“Let’s definitely not!” Chen Jian objected immediately. He had a sneaking suspicion that if they actually filmed those things, Shan Yu would lose his mind and force him to play the male lead.
Shan Yu strolled over, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
Chen Jian couldn’t help wondering if the man was deliberately seeking petty revenge.
“Actually, those aren’t easy to shoot at all,” Hu Pan said. “Some of those short scripts are written so well—you’re raging the entire time you watch, yet you can’t stop watching.”
“If we’re really filming,” Sanbing pondered, “I wouldn’t mind giving it a shot.”
“Me too,” Lao Wu chimed in.
“We’re showcasing Dayin,” Chen Erhu said, “not chronicling the underworld street history of you few.”
You Pigpen Gang members actually think you have an ‘underworld chronicle’?
Chen Jian couldn’t resist shooting him a dry look.
“Then we could film the Dayin Martial World Chronicle,” Sanbing proposed. “Vendettas, overlapping plotlines, all ultimately pointing to the final big boss: Shan Yu.”
“Get lost,” Shan Yu said.
Chen Jian watched Shan Yu take a seat right next to him.
“Hm?” Shan Yu glanced sideways at him.
“How… are you?” Chen Jian asked in a barely audible whisper.
“How I am—shouldn’t you know that before I do?” Shan Yu whispered back just as quietly.
“Fuck,” Chen Jian paused, then couldn’t help laughing under his breath.
Still, he couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Shan Yu.
An indescribable warmth filled his chest. Looking at Shan Yu right now carried an extraordinary, profound intimacy.
He couldn’t even muster a single drop of jealousy anymore.
Well, that’s one way to solve it 😅