It took Chen Erhu quite a while to recover from his delayed shock. Walking toward the car, his limbs were stiff, his every movement radiating a forced, theatrical casualness.
“Why don’t you three ride your motorcycles back?” Chen Jian interjected, asking Sanbing.
“You brought the G-Class!” Lao Si exclaimed. “Why would we ride motorcycles! We haven’t even sat in this car yet!”
“So you’re just abandoning your bikes?” Chen Jian asked.
“Are you dumb? We’ll just stroll over and fetch them when we’re free,” Sanbing said. “They’re parked in front of the police station; it’s not like they’re going to get stolen.”
“Fine,” Chen Jian said. “Get in.”
The stiff-limbed Chen Erhu climbed into the passenger seat, while Sanbing and the other two piled into the back.
Chen Jian cranked the heater to maximum, hoping to expedite the return of Chen Erhu’s physical flexibility.
“You guys didn’t run into any trouble with that Zhang guy out here just now, right?” Chen Jian asked as he started the engine.
“Nope,” Sanbing said. “Just glared at us. Kept glaring. But the second we looked at him, he whipped his head away, pretending not to care. So damn fake. Have no idea what Nana ever saw in him back then.”
“He saved her life,” Chen Erhu murmured.
“Huh?” Lao Wu immediately launched himself forward, gripping the back of the passenger seat. “How did he save her? What happened?”
“Nana was taking photos on a frozen river. The ice broke and she fell in,” Chen Erhu explained. “That guy surnamed Zhang pulled her out. From what her mom said, he went all out—smashing the ice with his bare fists and everything… Probably got together after that. Can’t really judge a person’s character off a single incident like that…”
“Ah…” Lao Wu listened, looking thoughtful.
“Don’t even think about it,” Sanbing warned Lao Wu. “Something like that is called fate; average people don’t run into scenarios like that.”
“But…” Lao Wu continued to look thoughtful.
“No buts. If you intentionally orchestrate an ‘incident’ like that to chase a girl, it’s called attempted murder,” Chen Jian stated.
“I wasn’t thinking that!” Lao Wu protested.
“Just a friendly reminder,” Chen Jian said.
“You’re targeting me.” Lao Wu fell back into his seat, thoroughly indignant.
“I’m worried about you.” Chen Jian caught his eye in the rearview mirror.
“I saw Nana’s mom’s eyes were red earlier,” Lao Si chimed in. “Did she get chewed out?”
“Chewed out by who?” Lao Wu asked.
“By Boss Shan, obviously!” Sanbing said. “Who else at Dayin has the nerve to scold Nana’s parents? Only Boss Shan. The only reason he didn’t tear into Lu Yun was because Lu Yun didn’t cross him. Otherwise, municipal official or not, he wouldn’t let him off the hook either.”
“Wouldn’t call it scolding. I think Shan Yu was holding back quite a bit,” Chen Erhu said. “Mainly, her parents were infuriating, especially her dad! I wanted to hit him myself!”
“So what happens now? Is it resolved?” Sanbing asked.
“Guess you could say it’s resolved?” Chen Erhu looked at Chen Jian. “According to Shan Yu, if that guy refuses to sign the divorce papers, he’s going to lose his job. Someone like him should fall in line; after all, he’s already walking away with a huge advantage in the settlement.”
“Mm,” Chen Jian acknowledged. “We’ll see if he actually shows up when the time comes.”
“If he doesn’t, we smash him!” Lao Si hollered. “I wanted to smash him right then and there! Sanbing held me back!”
“Starting a brawl in front of a police station? What were you thinking?” Sanbing said. “The moment we stepped up, that security camera on the wall literally pivoted its lens straight at us!”
Arriving back at Dayin, the ground floor was entirely empty save for Shan Yu sitting at the front desk.
“Where is everyone?” Chen Jian walked up to the counter.
“Zhao Fangfang went grocery shopping, Huang-jie is cleaning the second floor, and Hu Pan and Sun Nana are probably still in their dorm,” Shan Yu slid the call logbook across the counter toward him. “I answered two calls. Store Manager, please review.”
Question: Do you accept corporate team-building retreats of around fifteen people? What are the room rates and conference room fees?
Answer: Yes. Room rates: unknown. Conference room fees: unknown.
Question: The front desk doesn’t know anything?
Answer: Depends on specific requirements. For details, contact the Store Manager. Provided Store Manager’s mobile number.
The second call fared slightly better, entirely avoiding the “I don’t know” trio. The caller merely asked if there were many tourists at the moment. The answer was “not many.”
Chen Jian looked at Shan Yu.
“How did I do?” Shan Yu asked.
“…Do you expect a gold star for this?” Chen Jian asked.
“Don’t dampen the boss’s enthusiasm,” Shan Yu said.
“I…” Chen Jian began, but his phone rang. It was an unfamiliar out-of-town number—likely the one Shan Yu had just handed out. He picked it up: “Hello.”
Shan Yu stood up, stretched lazily, and turned toward the elevator.
After finishing the call, Chen Jian noticed Sanbing and the others were gone. Only Chen Erhu was left sitting by the front desk.
“Where did they go?” he asked.
“Upstairs to check on Nana,” Chen Erhu looked at him. “Chen Jian…”
“Hm?” Chen Jian replied.
“What’s the best way for me to break this to Sanbing and the guys?” Chen Erhu frowned, looking deeply anxious. “I was thinking… I could test the waters first to gauge their attitude, then delicately introduce the concept, and then follow up with…”
“Erhu, Erhu,” Chen Jian interrupted earnestly. “Just tell them straight up. If you feel awkward saying it, I’ll go tell them myself.”
“No, no, no, no, that’s too abrupt,” Chen Erhu waved his hands frantically. “It’s more natural if I handle my own guys.”
“Whatever you prefer, then.” Chen Jian felt somewhat helpless.
“Then I’ll stick to my multi-step plan.” Chen Erhu looked at him.
“Mm.” Chen Jian nodded.
“I’m really gonna tell them, okay?” Chen Erhu sought confirmation.
“Mm.” Chen Jian nodded again.
“Then the second they come downstairs, I’m dropping the news.” Chen Erhu looked as though he was mentally preparing to come out of the closet himself. “I’m really doing it.”
“I’m begging you, hurry up and tell them,” Chen Jian said. “As long as you don’t grab a megaphone and announce it on the street, you can tell this crew however you want.”
“Alright.” Chen Erhu nodded.
“Hold the fort here for a bit,” Chen Jian said. “I’m going up to check on things.”
“Mm.” Chen Erhu neatly aligned the call logbook and pens on the counter, then sat down.
Chen Jian didn’t bother waiting for the elevator, opting to run straight up the stairs to the fourth floor.
The moment he rounded the corner into the hallway, Sanbing heard his footsteps and popped his head out of the dorm doorway in a flash: “Chen Jian.”
“Hm?” Chen Jian turned to look.
“You’re a legend.” Sanbing gave him a thumbs-up, then ducked right back inside.
Looked like they already knew. Chen Jian felt a pang of sorrow for Chen Erhu downstairs, whose head was currently filled to bursting with elaborate, multi-step disclosure plans for “his guys.”
All that planning for nothing.
He was more anxious than the actual people involved.
The other involved party was considerably more relaxed. At this very moment, he was standing before the terrarium, admiring Erge as he munched on mealworms.
“No further conflicts when dropping them off, right?” Shan Yu asked.
“No,” Chen Jian said. “Though that guy surnamed Zhang parked his car right in front of the police station… Seems like a coward. Folds the moment real trouble starts.”
“Sun Nana scheduled the appointment for the third of next month,” Shan Yu said. “Figure out who you want to bring along to accompany her when the time comes.”
“Mm.” Chen Jian leaned against the cabinet beside him, watching him.
Earlier, with so many people around and the chaotic running back and forth, he hadn’t felt much when Chen Erhu brought it up. Only now, in the quiet of the room, standing face-to-face with Shan Yu, did the reality of it truly hit him.
“Holy fuck,” he uttered, echoing Chen Erhu’s meager vocabulary.
“What is it?” Shan Yu smiled.
“You really just came right out and said it,” Chen Jian said.
“What else was I supposed to do?” Shan Yu said. “We can ignore the guy surnamed Zhang, but Sun Nana’s parents deserved a clear explanation, and I didn’t want to waste my breath arguing.”
“Mm,” Chen Jian said.
After a few seconds, he let out a low chuckle.
“Are you poisoned?” Shan Yu glanced at him.
“No,” Chen Jian smiled again as the thought lingered. “Just feels… hard to describe. Today was genuinely thrilling…”
“Still jealous?” Shan Yu asked.
“Two completely different things,” Chen Jian said.
“Oh?” Shan Yu turned to look at him.
“Oh my ass.” Unable to hold back, Chen Jian laughed again, stepped forward, threw his arms around Shan Yu, and planted a fierce kiss on his neck.
No workplace romances allowed during operating hours.
In the past, lingering in the office had made him anxious about getting caught, but using “reporting work” as a cover had worked well enough. Now, however, even if he genuinely was reporting work, the Pigpen Gang would probably assume they were up to something illicit behind closed doors.
Especially right after the relationship had just been outed.
Chen Jian didn’t stay in the office for long. Stepping back out into the hall, he consciously tried to project an aura of “pure professionalism.”
He checked the dorms first; Sanbing and the guys had already gone downstairs.
Hu Pan and Sun Nana were in the small communal lounge touching up their makeup.
Seeing him walk in, Hu Pan smiled: “Here to fish for reactions?”
“Not fishing for anything,” Chen Jian smiled back.
“We already told them,” Hu Pan said. “They didn’t really have much of a reaction.”
“I genuinely think Lao Wu didn’t even understand what we were saying,” Sun Nana added.
“He can’t be that dumb,” Hu Pan said. “Maybe the shock was just too big. Look at Chen Erhu—he didn’t react at all earlier. Anyone watching would think he already knew.”
“How are you feeling?” Chen Jian asked Sun Nana.
“Light as a feather,” Sun Nana used her pinky to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Feels like I just won a war.”
“That’s good,” Chen Jian leaned against the doorframe. If she was fine, he could ask. “About that time you fell in the river…”
“Why are you just like them?” Sun Nana laughed out loud. “Everyone’s asking about that!”
“Just proves everyone’s a gossip,” Chen Jian said. “Who knows, it might even…”
Be turned into a web series.
He clamped his mouth shut just in time, afraid Sun Nana might hit him.
“Back then, I had just graduated,” Sun Nana sighed. “I went to photograph the frozen river. You know, for the aesthetics—you have to walk out toward the middle to get the shot. The section I walked onto wasn’t frozen solid yet, and I fell right through.”
“You two didn’t know each other yet, right?” Chen Jian asked.
“Right. He was there taking photos too,” Sun Nana sighed again. “About him saving me… he genuinely seemed like a good person back then. After pushing me up onto the ice, if someone hadn’t rushed over to help, he might not have made it out himself… Back then, I really did look at him like a hero.”
“No one can predict how people change,” Chen Jian said.
“We were just talking about that,” Hu Pan chimed in. “This could totally be used as material for all sorts of web series.”
…You said it, not me.
Chen Jian shot Sun Nana a look.
“Just tweak the details a bit. We’re gathering material right now,” Sun Nana said. “I can write the script.”
“Are you guys…” Chen Jian hesitated. “Are you really going to film it?”
“Why not? Once the snow season passes and foot traffic slows down, we’ll have plenty of time to shoot,” Hu Pan clapped her hands. “It’ll be so much fun! The Jianghu of Dayin. We’ll be an ensemble of hidden martial arts masters, and our inn’s scenery is perfect for it.”
“A period drama?” Chen Jian asked.
“We could definitely pull it off. Those discarded bedsheets and duvet covers…” Hu Pan mused. “There’s a ton of them in the storage room. Just drape them over ourselves…”
“What kind of disaster is that going to look like on camera?” Chen Jian was stunned.
“Time-Travel to the Jianghu of Dayin. The bedsheet costumes will just be for a transition scene,” Hu Pan assured him. “Don’t worry about it.”
Perhaps because the boss rarely applied pressure, this crew was perpetually overflowing with boundless energy.
With nothing pressing to do before dinner, the conversation smoothly transitioned from Sun Nana’s divorce straight into web series production. They bounced ideas back and forth, and Sanbing even kicked off an impromptu audition on the spot.
A guest coming downstairs happened to catch his performance and gave it a glowing review.
“Great acting,” an older male guest said while applauding. “Are you playing a security guard?”
“…I’m a martial arts master,” Sanbing said.
“Oh,” the guest nodded. “Reincarnated as a security guard?”
“Yes,” Sanbing nodded helplessly.
“Very interesting,” the guest chuckled as he walked out the door. “The vibe at your guesthouse is fantastic.”
“Do I really look that much like a security guard?” Sanbing asked once the guest was gone.
“Might be a wardrobe issue,” Lao Wu analyzed.
“Right!” Lao Si slapped his thigh. “Why don’t you try draping Nana’s shawl over yourself?”
“Back off,” Sun Nana pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “This is cashmere. It was incredibly expensive.”
“No worries, once we get you into costume, you’ll definitely look like a master,” Hu Pan promised.
Laughing, Chen Jian walked over to the cafe and sat down.
Chen Erhu had been sitting there the entire time, abstaining from the behind-the-scenes chaos of The Jianghu of Dayin.
“Fuck.” Before Chen Jian could even ask, Chen Erhu spoke up first.
“What’s wrong?” Chen Jian glanced at him. “Did you rent this whole section out for yourself?”
“Sanbing and the guys already knew before I could even tell them,” Chen Erhu clicked his tongue. “Panpan and Nana just smoothly blurted the whole thing out.”
“That’s perfectly normal,” Chen Jian smiled.
“Made me sit here agonizing over it for nothing,” Chen Erhu grumbled, but quickly leaned closer to Chen Jian. “Though I observed them closely—none of them had any major reaction, so you can rest easy.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Chen Jian said.
Chen Erhu looked at him.
Chen Jian looked back.
“Right,” Chen Erhu nodded slowly. “I’m the only fucking idiot who had a massive reaction.”
Chen Jian didn’t reply, turning his head away with a smile before reaching out to pat Chen Erhu’s shoulder: “Thanks.”
As dinner prep began, everyone scattered to handle their tasks. Just as Chen Jian was about to head into the kitchen to help carry dishes, Lao Wu pulled him aside: “Chen Jian.”
Chen Jian remembered Lao Wu mentioning right after lunch that he needed to talk, but the chaotic afternoon had completely sidelined it.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Come here,” Lao Wu kept his head down, walking toward the backyard. “Just takes two sentences.”
Chen Jian followed him out.
“My wages.” Stepping outside, Lao Wu turned around and murmured. “Are you really not paying me?”
“Told you, no pay this month,” Chen Jian said. “Do you need money for something?”
“Mm,” Lao Wu acknowledged.
“How much?” Chen Jian asked.
“Five hundred,” Lao Wu said. “To buy cigarettes.”
“You need five hundred for cigarettes?” Chen Jian said.
“Saves me the trouble of asking you all the time,” Lao Wu reasoned.
“It’s fine, you can just ask me pack by pack,” Chen Jian said.
Lao Wu fell silent.
“Lao Wu,” Chen Jian lowered his voice. “I’m only doing this because I consider you a friend. It might be a bit… but…”
“One hundred, then.” Lao Wu wasn’t angry; he simply lowered his asking price.
“I’ll transfer it to you,” Chen Jian pulled out his phone.
“Deduct it from my pay next month when I actually get a check,” Lao Wu said.
“Mm.” Chen Jian sent him a red envelope containing one hundred yuan.
“Chen Jian,” Lao Wu looked at him. “Tell me… what is love actually like?”
Chen Jian shot him a glance: “Why?”
“Just asking,” Lao Wu said. “I don’t have anyone else to ask. Besides… you’re dating now, even if it’s a bit different.”
“Can’t describe it clearly,” Chen Jian said.
“Consider me a friend and you’re just going to brush me off like that?” Lao Wu glared at him.
“I really… can’t describe it,” Chen Jian said. “It’s just a feeling.”
Lao Wu inhaled deeply, likely preparing to let out a profound, heavy sigh. But mid-inhale, a gust of freezing wind slapped him right in the face, sending him into a violent coughing fit.
“Fuck!” he cursed between coughs. “Why does God always do this to me!”
Chen Jian couldn’t hold it in, his laughter ringing out a bit louder than intended.
“Zhao-jie, any oranges left?” Shan Yu’s voice drifted over from the kitchen area.
The boss actually came downstairs to eat in person?
As Chen Jian turned his head, his heart inexplicably skipped a beat for two seconds. Just two seconds, quickly settling back to a calm rhythm, but as he turned to walk back inside, his steps felt remarkably light and airy.
That must be what the feeling is.
But there’s no way he could explain that to Lao Wu.
