Old Zhang usually didn’t deliver fish to guesthouses or restaurants. He wasn’t a fishmonger, and delivering was too much trouble.
Chen Jian had no idea what Shan Yu had said to him, but either way, Old Zhang drove over himself that afternoon and delivered four huge fish.
“They’re alive?” Having rested up, Hu Pan was back at the front desk. Seeing the fish Old Zhang brought in, she was completely flabbergasted. “Do we have to butcher them right now?”
“I’ll clean them for you,” Old Zhang said. “Just leave them be afterward. They’ll be just right for dinner.”
“I’m a little scared to watch,” Hu Pan said. “Killing living things always creeps me out a bit.”
“Little girl,” Old Zhang smiled as he walked into the kitchen, “don’t be afraid. I’ll make it quick—it’ll only take a couple of minutes.”
Chen Jian followed him into the kitchen, ready to lend a hand. “Uncle Zhang, thanks for the hard work.”
“I wouldn’t do this for anyone else,” Old Zhang said, expertly prepping the fish. “Your Boss Shan knows how to treat people. Very generous. Just don’t tell the others I delivered fish to you guys. I really don’t do deliveries.”
“Mm.” Chen Jian nodded.
“It’s not about the money, either. I didn’t charge your Boss Shan anything extra,” Old Zhang added. “Consider it helping out a friend.”
“Mm,” Chen Jian continued nodding.
As long as Shan Yu wasn’t looking to cause trouble, he was remarkably thoughtful and smooth with words and actions. It wasn’t surprising that Old Zhang considered him a friend—the staff at the inn had been won over in the exact same way.
Old Zhang was quite chatty, talking away as he cleaned the fish. Chen Jian didn’t even need to make conversation; an occasional “mm” was enough, and even if he wanted to speak, he could barely get a word in.
Once Old Zhang finished and Chen Jian was walking him out, he finally found an opening to speak: “Are they still eating?”
“They were done by the time I left,” Old Zhang said. “Boss Shan was going to take his friends for a stroll around the village… though they’re probably done by now. Our village isn’t that big anyway.”
“Mm.” Chen Jian smiled.
Shan Yu did enjoy wandering around. Normally he had no one to accompany him, and his leg had made it difficult before. Now that the brace was off and his friends were visiting, the timing was just right.
After seeing Old Zhang off, Chen Jian turned to head back when someone by the roadside pavilion called out to him: “Store Manager Chen!”
Chen Jian stopped and looked over. It was Da Li, the lobby manager—or general manager, or store manager, whatever his title was—from Liangye. He was the one who ran Liangye whenever He Liang wasn’t around.
Indeed, the owners of these guesthouses rarely stayed on-site all the time. They might spend half a month there, staying longer during peak season and vanishing during the off-season.
In the past, Qian Yu wouldn’t stay at the inn every day either.
Once Shan Yu’s self-imposed exile ended…
“Store Manager Chen,” Da Li walked up to him, “I was just about to go in and look for you.”
“Something up?” Chen Jian asked. “Did one of our people go to your place to poach guests?”
“Hey,” Da Li frowned, “you really are something.”
Chen Jian gave a slight smile.
“There’s actually a matter,” Da Li said, walking into Dayin’s courtyard. He sat down on a chair in the garden, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and offered one over. “Wanted to see if we could get on the same page.”
“I don’t smoke,” Chen Jian said.
“Oh.” Da Li took one out and prepared to light it.
“Go to the back courtyard if you want to smoke,” Chen Jian said, walking toward the inner garden. “The smoking area is over there.”
“Alright…” Da Li followed him with the cigarette, sat down at the small table with the ashtray, and lit it. “You guys sure have a lot of rules.”
Though not strictly enforced—it depends on the person.
“Isn’t the snow season coming up soon? Guest traffic was decent last year, and the snow fell early this year,” Da Li said. “So we, Guanshan, and Suiyun were discussing putting together an event to draw in more guests.”
“Did the three of you already reach an agreement before coming to us?” Chen Jian looked at him.
“No, no,” Da Li said, momentarily embarrassed, forcing a laugh. “It’s mainly that our three places communicate more often on regular days, so we came up with the idea first. Now we’re asking your place so we can all discuss the details together.”
“Oh.” Chen Jian nodded.
Those words didn’t sit well with Chen Jian. Those three inns barely interacted with Dayin on normal days, yet now he claimed they “communicated more often.”
How did the three of you communicate?
Was there a private group chat?
Why not pull me in too?
Naturally, he didn’t ask any of that. Shan Yu might have asked if he were here, since Boss Shan possessed that effortless nonchalance of someone who didn’t care about the business.
“We were thinking of doing something like a bonfire festival,” Da Li said. “Not sure if Dayin has any thoughts on that.”
“Organizing an event sounds fine,” Chen Jian said. “But since you already have an outline and more experience than us, why don’t you just list out what you need Dayin to do, and we’ll take a look.”
In any case, if minority yielded to majority, Dayin was just the minority. It was better to cut the pleasantries and see directly whether they could comply.
“Just like that? Can you make the call?” Da Li asked, sounding somewhat skeptical.
The comment didn’t upset Chen Jian. Da Li was in his thirties, older even than Shan Yu, and the managers of the other two places were around the same age. To them, a twenty-year-old like him was just a kid.
“I’ll discuss it with Boss Shan,” Chen Jian said. “But he hates hassle, as you probably know to some degree. In short, keeping it simple is best.”
Brother Li, Boss Shan’s behavior is hard to predict. If he gets annoyed, he might just pull out entirely. You’d lose someone to share the costs and labor—and once you host it, it’s not out of the question that he’d just bring us over to crash the party anyway.
“Fair enough,” Da Li nodded. “I’ll add you on WeChat in a bit and send it over?”
“Mm.” Chen Jian nodded.
“Is the one named ‘Dayin Chen’ in the town group you?” Da Li looked at his phone.
“Yes,” Chen Jian said.
“Chen Yu…” Da Li had likely tapped open his profile and glanced up at him.
“That’s me,” Chen Jian answered immediately.
The big group chat included management personnel from all the guesthouses in town. Nobody usually chatted there; it was only used for announcements. Chen Jian didn’t mind staying in the group under the display name Chen Yu Luo Yan, but if Da Li dared to read it out loud, Chen Jian would silence him for good.
“Alright, I’ll contact you later,” Da Li stood up. “Discuss it with Boss Shan and see if it works.”
“Seems fine. Doesn’t look like an issue, and it’s not much money—Boss Qian just happened to cover it for us anyway.”
Shan Yu lay on the sofa, holding Chen Jian’s phone and looking over the outline of the bonfire event Da Li had sent. The parts requiring Dayin’s cooperation were highlighted.
“They planned it all along,” Chen Jian said, feeling a bit annoyed. “And we’re putting in the same amount of money, but doing more work.”
“Didn’t you already guess that?” Shan Yu smiled. “It’s fine. We put in more work, so we get to steal the spotlight.”
“Huh?” Chen Jian looked at him.
“Ask your Sister Xiao Yi to pull some strings and get someone over here to cover it,” Shan Yu said. “If pushed, Dayin can even act as a liaison between the town and her department to set up some tourist routes.”
“Does Yao Yi work in tourism?” Chen Jian asked.
“The Tourism Bureau,” Shan Yu said. “Setting it up is too much hassle, so I just don’t feel like bothering.”
“Mm,” Chen Jian looked at him. “There’s not much development here anyway. No need to go through all that trouble.”
Shan Yu didn’t reply. His gaze shifted from the phone in his hand to Chen Jian’s face.
Chen Jian didn’t speak either, waiting for him to break the silence.
Yet Shan Yu remained quiet, merely staring at him.
“Did I say something wrong?” Chen Jian finally gave in.
“Sit,” Shan Yu said.
Chen Jian had been standing beside the sofa all this time, since Shan Yu was lying down and taking up the entire three-seater. Now being told to sit, he had no idea where to place himself.
Shan Yu pulled his legs toward the back of the sofa, making just enough room for Chen Jian’s rear.
Chen Jian sat down, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked at the pile of Chinese herbs on the coffee table that Shan Yu had just fetched from Chen the Masseur.
This guy actually took Yue Lang and his wife to see Chen the Masseur…
“Hey.” Shan Yu gave his leg a slight swing, bumping Chen Jian’s back.
Chen Jian turned to look at him.
“I’m not leaving,” Shan Yu said, meeting his eyes.
Chen Jian froze.
I’m not leaving.
Those three simple words sent a wave of emotions surging through him, leaving him unable to process anything for a long moment.
“Did you hear me?” Shan Yu asked.
“Mm,” Chen Jian managed a reply.
“Anything you want to say?” Shan Yu asked again.
Yes.
A lot.
Chen Jian kept looking at him.
Yet he had no idea where to begin.
Shan Yu was surprisingly patient. He didn’t rush him or say anything else, turning his attention back to the phone.
After standing in a daze for a bit, Chen Jian remembered that Shan Yu had been holding his phone the whole time.
“Haven’t you finished reading it yet?” Chen Jian quickly racked his brain to see if there was anything embarrassing on his phone. “I can just forward the document to you directly.”
“Scared you to death, didn’t I?” Shan Yu chuckled and placed the phone by Chen Jian’s leg.
The screen was black.
Shan Yu had been holding a phone that was turned off.
Chen Jian smiled too, placing the phone onto the coffee table and glancing at the herbs again.
“Did you take them to Chen the Masseur for an adjustment?” Chen Jian asked.
“Mm. We wandered over while strolling around, but they didn’t dare,” Shan Yu said. “Afraid of the pain.”
“They were probably also worried he isn’t from a proper hospital,” Chen Jian said. “A lot of people don’t trust places like that.”
“I’ve already tested it myself, what was there for them to worry about?” Shan Yu said. “Since they’re here anyway, they want to go up the mountain tomorrow to see the snow.”
“Why…” Chen Jian finally sorted out his first question. “Why did they suddenly decide to visit?”
“They happened to have leftover annual leave they needed to use up,” Shan Yu said. “So… they came over to check out the store manager.”
“Check out…” Chen Jian paused. “What?”
“Check out the store manager. Isn’t it obvious?” Shan Yu said. “You didn’t realize?”
“I didn’t,” Chen Jian replied firmly.
“If you didn’t realize, why ask?” Shan Yu said. “If you thought they were purely here on vacation, would you even be asking?”
Chen Jian said nothing, shooting Shan Yu a look.
“They don’t mean any harm, nor do they have any ulterior motives,” Shan Yu said. “They just wanted to see… you know what I mean, right?”
“Huh?” Chen Jian was taken aback. He could tell Yue Lang and his wife had no ill intentions, but for a second, he couldn’t grasp the second half of Shan Yu’s sentence.
“To see what the person I like is like,” Shan Yu said.
When those words were uttered, it felt as though they came with a ringing sound effect in his ears.
When certain things only existed in one’s mind, they were always blurry, as if buffered by a protective layer. You understood, you knew, but there was distance, a cushion.
Yet the moment they turned into a voice, into words spoken face-to-face…
It was like a knife slicing open a transparent bag over one’s head. All the blurred lights and shadows sharpened instantly; even the air became extraordinarily clear.
Chen Jian’s breathing grew chaotic in a flash, like a lost ball running wild—not moving particularly fast, but impossible to catch up with.
…Chen Jian, what was that ‘huh’ for?
“Oh.” The acknowledgment slipped out sounding as unreal as a dream, his throat tightening slightly.
“If it makes you uncomfortable, they can leave tomorrow,” Shan Yu said. “Or I can have them stay somewhere else…”
“No, no, no, no, no…” Chen Jian waved his hands hurriedly, his brain finally getting back up to speed. “That’s not what I meant. I was just asking.”
“You don’t need to overthink it either. They’re the boss’s friends, so while they aren’t ordinary tourists, just treat them normally,” Shan Yu said. “Like how you treated Qian Yu’s friends whenever they visited.”
“…He never had friends visit,” Chen Jian said.
“You…” Shan Yu burst out laughing. “How am I supposed to comfort you after that?”
Thinking about it, Chen Jian laughed as well.
An inexplicable wave of relief washed over him.
Like a burden had been lifted.
Like he had just paid off a twenty-thousand-dollar debt.
“Let’s do a barbecue in the garden for dinner,” Shan Yu said. “Stew a pot of fish, get some meat and stuff, call everyone over. We’ll have a team meal and hand out the red envelopes while we’re at it.”
“Mm.” Chen Jian nodded. “I’ll go tell Zhao-jie.”
“Have Sanbing or someone buy some alcohol so everyone can drink a bit,” Shan Yu said. “Let the guests know there won’t be staff at the front desk tonight. If they need anything, they can call the manager’s phone. If they want to join the barbecue, they’re more than welcome.”
“Invite the guests too?” Chen Jian asked.
“Just for fun,” Shan Yu said. “And we can have Yao Yi take some photos in case we need them later.”
“Need them for what?” Chen Jian asked.
“‘Dayin leads local guesthouse operators in turning guest entertainment into a town-wide bonfire event,’ or something like that,” Shan Yu said. “Who knows? Those other places will definitely try to grab the spotlight. We need to be prepared.”
Chen Jian looked at him, slightly stunned.
“Am I impressive?” Shan Yu asked.
“Impressive,” Chen Jian nodded.
“Take notes,” Shan Yu said.
“Oh,” Chen Jian complied.
“Get to work, Store Manager,” Shan Yu said.
Chen Jian stood up and picked up the herbs on the coffee table. “Do you want to drink these tonight?”
“Don’t ask me,” Shan Yu said. “I never want to drink them.”
“Alright.” Chen Jian smiled, turning to walk out of the office.
Over the past two days, this was the first time he walked out of the office without feeling in a daze.
The boss’s sudden whim to host a dinner and barbecue party in the garden gave them very little time, but the staff were bursting with enthusiasm. In a town with virtually no nightlife, this was a massive attraction.
Even Lao Si, who only worked three days a week, rushed over after hearing the news. A bunch of people helped Zhao-jie in the kitchen, others went out to buy booze and ingredients, and some cleared space in the garden to set things up. Joined by curious guests, the scene was chaotic and lively. Chen Erhu even went to the old pigpen to haul back the large iron barrel they used to use for fires when gathering there.
Several groups of guests from the inner rooms came out to check on the commotion, and Hu Pan took the opportunity to invite them all.
By the time everything was ready and dinner began, there were twenty to thirty people gathered in the garden, excluding Dayin’s own staff.
“Pretty fun,” Yue Lang said, holding a glass of red wine.
“Where’s your wife?” Shan Yu asked.
“Taking photos per your request,” Yue Lang said.
“She should eat first before taking photos,” Shan Yu said.
“She’s doing sixteen-eight intermittent fasting,” Yue Lang said. “Not eating tonight. I told her to come over and take a few shots of you two… and the staff.”
Once Yue Lang walked off, Shan Yu glanced at Chen Jian. “Not running?”
“What?” Chen Jian handed him a skewer of meat that Sanbing had just brought over.
“She’s coming to take photos,” Shan Yu said.
Chen Jian didn’t say anything.
He didn’t move away either.
When Yao Yi walked over with her camera, he was still standing right beside Shan Yu.
“A photo of the boss and the store manager?” she asked.
“Mm,” Chen Jian responded.
Yao Yi raised the camera, but instead of pressing the shutter, she lowered it again. “Be a little more natural. Little brother, right now you look like you’re holding Shan Yu hostage.”
“Don’t kill the hostage,” Yue Lang chimed in. “We can negotiate the ransom.”
Chen Jian laughed and looked down. Shan Yu was sitting in the chair in front of him, while he was standing beside him clutching a handful of skewers, the sharp ends pointing right at Shan Yu… It truly did look a bit like that.
He was still tense.
A bit unnatural.
“Chen Jian, take a bite,” Yue Lang said.
Chen Jian took a bite of the meat, and the camera clicked in a rapid, low sequence.
“Both of your faces photograph really well,” Yao Yi said, looking at the camera screen before showing it to Yue Lang. “The little curly-hair look has great vibes. Didn’t I make him look handsome?”
“Hey!” Shan Yu called out.
“What?” Yue Lang looked at him.
“Don’t—” Before Shan Yu could finish, Chen Jian knocked his knee against the back of Shan Yu’s chair.
“Never mind,” Shan Yu corrected himself.
“Can’t call him curly-hair?” Yao Yi was quick on the uptake.
“You can,” Chen Jian said. “It’s fine.”
Once the couple walked away, Shan Yu turned to look at him. “Are your rules really that targeted?”
“It’s different,” Chen Jian sat down beside him.
“How is it different?” Shan Yu took a bite of meat, chewing as he asked.
Chen Jian looked at him.
“Mm?” Shan Yu met his gaze.
“Aren’t you supposed to not talk while eating?” Chen Jian asked.
“Rules are meant to be broken once in a while,” Shan Yu said.
