DLRAS Chapter 161 [If Never Missed]

Chapter 161: Don’t you want to evaluate the next person?

The maid pulled open the living room door, and Huo Niansheng strode in. Huo Zhenfei was standing by the bar, having just unstoppered a bottle of whiskey.

He gestured toward Huo Niansheng: “The one you like—want a drink?”

The two men sat down with heavy-bottomed glass tumblers in front of them. They poured sparingly, the amber liquid barely covering the base of the glasses.

Huo Zhenfei brought the glass to his lips and probed, “Who exactly have you been associating with lately?”

Huo Niansheng merely smiled: “Do you really need to trouble yourself with every little thing that goes on in my life?”

Huo Zhenfei cast him a sidelong glance: “If you could save me a little trouble, I wouldn’t have to be such a nag.”

Huo Niansheng tilted his head back, drained the drop of alcohol, and pushed the glass aside: “Don’t worry, they’re a decent person. A high-achieving student.”

Before his cousin could press for more, he stood up, his footsteps echoing as he headed upstairs. Huo Zhenfei remained where he was, pondering the matter with bewilderment: “A college student? Is that your taste now? I’m telling you, can’t you stop trying to ruin other people’s lives for a single day—”

The atmosphere of the Lunar New Year grew increasingly heavy and festive. At the Zheng residence, the threshold was worn down by a constant stream of relatives, friends, and business associates. Even the younger generation found no respite, occupied either with family banquets or entertaining guests, until the third day of the New Year, when they finally caught their breath.

After the new year, the gatherings were mainly among the younger ones. On the fifth day, just after Chen Wengang finished breakfast and returned to his room, Zheng Baoqiu knocked on his door. She informed him that the housekeeper had received a call: He Jiajun and He Wanxin from the He family were coming over for lunch.

Because of his relationship with Zheng Yucheng, Chen Wengang’s position felt awkward, so he slipped out ahead of time.

The He siblings were not pleasant to deal with, and Zheng Baoqiu didn’t want to entertain them either; using an appointment with a best friend as an excuse, she scurried out early to wander the streets.

The family driver dropped them off downtown. Zheng Baoqiu asked, “Do you want to come shopping with us?”

Chen Wengang smiled: “No, you two go have fun.”

After saying goodbye to Zheng Baoqiu, he found himself with nowhere to go. Shopping malls held nothing he needed, and the library was closed for the holiday. He was standing on the street corner watching the crowds and wondering which cinema might still have seats available when a phone call arrived out of the blue.

It was Huo Niansheng: “Where are you? Are you busy right now? There’s something I’d like to give you.”

Chen Wengang asked tentatively: “What is it?”

The voice on the other end was filled with a smile: “I heard from Zheng Baoqiu that you were looking for an original English set. I managed to buy it for you.”

Chen Wengang fell into thought. Passersby went about their day, their faces filled with holiday cheer.

Huo Niansheng pressed: “What’s wrong? Busy?”

He spoke slowly: “Not exactly…”

“If you prefer, I can have it delivered to you.”

Chen Wengang softened: “No need, that would be too much trouble.”

Huo Niansheng immediately sent an address located near the World Trade Center. Driven by an inexplicable impulse, Chen Wengang reached out and hailed a taxi.

This time, it wasn’t a hotel, but a high-end apartment. Huo Niansheng handed him a pair of slippers—fluffy, brand new.

Chen Wengang stepped inside and looked around, feeling somewhat reserved. Huo Niansheng patted his shoulder: “What’s wrong?” Chen Wengang’s heart skipped a beat, suddenly realizing what he had just done—casually delivering himself to a playboy and isolating himself in a single room.

Before he could dwell on it, Huo Niansheng pointed to the set of collectible English novels on the dining table: “Take a look and see if this is what you wanted.”

Chen Wengang gently touched the gold-stamped spines. There were thirteen volumes in total, feeling heavy in his hands. It was an author he loved, a niche writer; beyond the first two volumes, none had been translated or published in China, and he had only ever read the digital versions.

Chen Wengang looked up: “How much? Let me transfer the money to you.”

Huo Niansheng laughed: “If I give you a gift and then charge you for it, wouldn’t that be a forced sale?”

Chen Wengang lowered his head again, his gaze returning to the books. At that moment, Huo Niansheng reached out, tentatively encircling him.

Chen Wengang didn’t move, though internally, he was struggling—should he refuse?—when Huo Niansheng slowly tightened his arms. He hugged Chen Wengang, asking: “Is this alright?”

Huo Niansheng was wearing a black cashmere sweater that day; his embrace was warm and soft. Chen Wengang didn’t make a sound, yet he felt a strange sensation. He had been intimate with this man, had done the most private things with him, yet he had no memory of it, leaving the man simultaneously familiar and like a stranger.

After a few seconds, Huo Niansheng let go. His gaze was very gentle: “The friend who helped me source these bought an extra novel—it’s a bestseller, very novel in style. I’ve never seen a book like it; could you look at it for me?”

Chen Wengang looked at the thick novel in his hand. The grayish-brown cover was artificially distressed, looking tattered, as if borrowed from a library. He had chatted with classmates about it; it was actually a puzzle-solving book that was becoming quite popular. He had been interested in it to begin with.

Chen Wengang hesitated, subconsciously glancing at the sky.

He only then noticed the glass on the balcony was speckled with moisture. A rare winter rain had begun to fall outside. For some reason, it seemed he was destined to meet Huo Niansheng in the rain. But since the weather was poor, his staying behind had a justifiable reason.

Once again, driven by an inexplicable impulse, he nodded in agreement.

Huo Niansheng smiled like a man who had won his prize. Instead of clearing space on the dining table, he walked straight toward the coffee table and sat cross-legged on the carpet. Chen Wengang carefully followed and found a suitable spot beside him.

The carpet was actually more convenient than the table because there were many props—clippings, cards, postcards, napkins—tucked into the book. Chen Wengang spread them out on the floor one by one.

The props were made very realistically, but in Huo Niansheng’s eyes, there was only the fluffy top of Chen Wengang’s head, illuminated by the light.

Huo Niansheng held the book, flipping to the first chapter. The book was unique; beyond the printed text, every margin and white space was filled with handwritten notes. Chen Wengang leaned in closer, but before he could read two lines, Huo Niansheng’s phone rang loudly.

At that distance, Chen Wengang could hear the faint voice on the other end; it sounded like one of his subordinates.

Huo Niansheng didn’t avoid him: “Mm… Mm… Understood. I’ll handle it.”

He hung up, and Chen Wengang said conscientiously: “Since you have business to attend to…”

Huo Niansheng grabbed him: “Who works during the New Year? Everything can wait until the holiday is over.”

They kept their heads together until twilight began to fall, having read more than half of the novel. The notes in the margins were multicolored; at first, they could see it was the work of two people, but gradually, a mysterious third voice appeared, as if danger were lurking in the shadows.

But the information was too dense. Chen Wengang was completely focused when, yet again, a phone call interrupted them. This time, it was Zheng Baoqiu urging him: “Where are you? The driver is already there. If you’re finished, shall we go home together?”

Chen Wengang didn’t even realize he was doing it, but he subconsciously looked toward Huo Niansheng for guidance.

Huo Niansheng didn’t interfere; he felt a twinge of guilt: “…I ran into a friend and came to his place to hang out… Yeah, exactly, so I’m not going back tonight.”

After hanging up, Chen Wengang intentionally avoided Huo Niansheng’s gaze. Huo Niansheng acted as if he hadn’t noticed, staring at the book: “So this monkey has special significance…” He stood up and stretched: “Hungry? Let’s see what we can order.”

Most nearby restaurants that offered delivery were still closed, so they ended up ordering fast food: two pizzas, fried chicken, and cola.

Chen Wengang ate refinedly, careful not to get grease on the carpet or the pages. Huo Niansheng leaned against the sofa without ceremony. After swallowing his last bite of pizza, he washed his hands, walked back, and took over the responsibility of flipping the pages.

He suddenly directed Chen Wengang: “Give me another piece of fried chicken.” But he made no move to reach for it.

Chen Wengang, wearing a disposable glove, pinched a piece and, after a moment’s hesitation, fed it to him.

Huo Niansheng naturally bit down, the aroma of the fried chicken filling the air.

Most of the day was spent this way. They even found paper and pens to record clues and timelines. Chen Wengang supported his weight on the floor with both hands; Huo Niansheng stared at his shoulder blades, lost in thought for a moment, before returning his focus to the plot. Zheng Baoqiu had said he liked these brain-teasing games, and sure enough, it was true. It wasn’t until the clock struck eleven that Huo Niansheng put the cap on his pen: “Let’s leave it at that for today. It’s so thick, we couldn’t possibly finish it all at once. I’ll find you a change of clothes—why don’t you go wash up?”

Though he said that, he slumped down exhaustedly, sprawling across the carpet.

Chen Wengang replied with a sound, staring at the notes they had written together, feeling a touch of regret.

Huo Niansheng curled his lips, looking up at him: “By the way, are you busy tomorrow?”

Chen Wengang knelt, palms pressed against the rough texture of the carpet: “I’m free.”

Huo Niansheng reached out an arm toward him: “Then come back tomorrow, and we’ll continue?”

Chen Wengang grasped the hand and pulled him up from the floor with force.

The next morning, when Chen Wengang woke up, he felt a strange sense of displacement—he was wearing Huo Niansheng’s pajamas, having spent the night in his guest room. It took him half a minute to piece together the sequence of events. This had nothing to do with being drunk or reckless; it was simply hard to imagine that Huo Niansheng had nothing better to do than spend an entire day playing puzzle games with him. Last night, when he brought Chen Wengang his toiletries, his attitude was perfectly gentlemanly, without a hint of harassment, as if he were just hosting an ordinary friend for the night.

Chen Wengang walked into the living room and was met with an even more unexpected scene: Huo Niansheng was busy in the semi-open kitchen.

Eggs were sizzling in the pan, and a plate of sliced ham sat on the counter: “Making a sandwich. Is that okay for a quick meal?”

He felt genuinely flattered: “Sorry for the trouble.”

The books and props were still spread out on the carpet in front of the sofa, left entirely untouched. They killed time the same way. Today, Chen Wengang felt a bit dazed because he could hardly remember the last time he had interacted with Zheng Yucheng like this. Board games, cards, puzzles—once he’d started college, those had all become “children’s toys,” shelved away as more serious things filled his days.

Huo Niansheng rested his arm on the sofa cushion, not touching Chen Wengang but effectively encircling him.

As if to compensate for the guest having to eat light meals for two consecutive sessions, someone delivered a lavish lunch—three dishes and a soup.

In the evening, they changed clothes and went out, partly to find food and partly for a walk. They walked three kilometers until, near a vegetable market, they found a small restaurant glowing brightly, with four large characters on the glass door: “Congee Hot Pot.”

Huo Niansheng asked: “Want to try this?”

Chen Wengang smiled at him: “Do you eat at restaurants for commoners like this, too?”

He drew out the word “commoners” slightly. He’d been caught. Huo Niansheng raised an eyebrow, and before he could speak, Chen Wengang hurried to push open the glass door. They sat down, and Huo Niansheng took the menu, researching it while asking the server questions.

Chen Wengang rested his chin on his hand, watching them, when he suddenly heard Huo Niansheng ask: “What do you like to eat?”

“Anything is fine.”

” ‘Anything’ is the hardest to please. You choose.”

After they had eaten their fill, Zheng Baoqiu called again to ask if Chen Wengang was coming home.

So, they returned to Huo Niansheng’s apartment, but they didn’t go upstairs. The elevator went straight to the second basement level, and Huo Niansheng drove him home.

Outside the car window, the streetscapes changed. Chen Wengang was quiet on the road. Had it not been for that phone call, he hadn’t actually considered whether he would stay another night. One night away was easy to explain, but two or three consecutive nights at someone else’s house? How would that look?

But when they arrived at the Zheng residence, he got out of the car. Huo Niansheng looked out from the window: “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

The winter night was heavy, and a sudden cold wind whipped around his neck.

The two looked at each other for a long time. Chen Wengang made his decision: “I’ll come.”

For the remaining days of the winter break, Chen Wengang spent almost all his time in Huo Niansheng’s apartment.

Although the Zheng Corporation had resumed operations, most people were still immersed in the festive spirit of the New Year, and work wasn’t particularly busy. Zheng Bingyi valued holiday traditions and hadn’t demanded that Zheng Yucheng and Zheng Maoxun return to the office early. Chen Wengang, consequently, also stole some leisure time, having plenty of free time every day.

Chen Wengang wasn’t sure what Zheng Yucheng had been doing with his vacation. The cold war continued; ever since the breakup, they had been like two strangers living under the same roof. As for himself, his association with Huo Niansheng felt like a secret, stolen pleasure—he knew it was inappropriate, and he didn’t dare tell anyone, but whenever Huo Niansheng extended an invitation, Chen Wengang would always, in the end, agree.

They had finished that cryptic puzzle book after several days of effort, reading it back and forth many times. The veils of the story, both inside and outside the book, had gradually lifted. Yet afterward, Huo Niansheng continued to unearth an endless supply of things Chen Wengang might be interested in, coming from all sorts of sources: gifts from friends, things seen on the street, items dug out of storage…

His pursuit was progressive, his sense of timing impeccable, and his performance seemed genuinely sincere. In front of Chen Wengang, the young master spared no effort, dropping all pretense, even willing to spend an entire night with him assembling a Lego pirate ship.

On the last day before the semester began, Chen Wengang accompanied Huo Niansheng to see an art exhibition.

They each received a souvenir at the gallery. As they walked out, a soft-serve ice cream truck was parked by the curb. The out-of-season treat was incredibly popular, with people even queuing up for it. Huo Niansheng bought two, one red and one white, and handed one to Chen Wengang.

Chen Wengang thanked him. Suddenly, a scoop of ice cream was held toward his lips. Huo Niansheng asked: “Want to try mine?”

For the umpteenth time, driven by an inexplicable impulse, Chen Wengang took a small bite. It was cold and smooth, the sweetness sliding down his throat.

In a spirit of mutual exchange, he felt obligated to contribute a bite in return. Just then, a friend who knew Huo Niansheng appeared out of nowhere, approaching from afar to say hello. The friend cast an inquiring glance at Chen Wengang, but Huo Niansheng dismissed him in a few short sentences.

After the date concluded, they wandered a bit more before returning to Huo Niansheng’s apartment to watch a movie via the home theater.

Chen Wengang had picked the film at random from the library. He’d thought it was a mystery-thriller based on the title, but it turned out to be a B-movie with a perverse sense of humor. When the heroine stripped, the awkward atmosphere in the living room far outweighed the sensuality.

Huo Niansheng’s mocking smile was impossible to hide, and the roots of Chen Wengang’s ears were stained a deep red.

He wanted to turn off the TV, but the remote was behind Huo Niansheng. As Chen Wengang reached for it, he ended up throwing himself into Huo Niansheng’s arms.

Huo Niansheng held his back, leaning close to his ear with ill intent: “So, the high-achieving student has such tastes.”

Chen Wengang had no retort, but his face turned even redder. He pushed Huo Niansheng hard, but this time, Huo Niansheng didn’t let go.

He whispered: “Don’t move.”

Chen Wengang held his breath.

Huo Niansheng’s fingertips touched his face. He had exercised enough patience. Over the past few days, their physical contact had been limited to hugging through clothes, grabbing a wrist, or their arms brushing together while walking. Now, it was clear that he felt the time had come to take a step further. Chen Wengang stiffened slightly, remaining silent.

His lack of resistance was taken as tacit consent. Huo Niansheng pressed his advantage, gently taking his lips. Chen Wengang gripped his collar, his heart pounding in his chest. Huo Niansheng shared a long, lingering kiss, then traced a line from his neck to his Adam’s apple.

When he tried to go further, Chen Wengang finally pressed his hand against his shoulder to stop him.

Chen Wengang seemed to want to back out: “I think…”

Huo Niansheng asked him gently: “Think what?”

Chen Wengang was caught in a dilemma, Huo Niansheng’s hand already having slipped beneath his clothes, wreaking havoc at will. He pried Chen Wengang’s teeth apart once more, leisurely kissing him. Chen Wengang’s fingers curled and uncurled until they finally came to rest on the nape of Huo Niansheng’s neck. When they finally parted, a silver thread stretched between them. Huo Niansheng said: “By the way, I went to a lecture the day before yesterday and came back full of ‘chicken soup for the soul’.”

Chen Wengang collected his thoughts and gave a deceptive laugh: “What lecture? Giving out chicken soup for the soul?”

Huo Niansheng cleared his throat: “On interpersonal relationships. The professor on stage said that if a person lacks the ability and courage to trust others, it’s very hard for them to live a happy, fulfilled life.”

Chen Wengang curled his lips slightly, looking at him skeptically: “You made that up to tell me.”

Huo Niansheng didn’t admit it: “The professor really said it. And they made a good point, didn’t they? You give money to others, and your investment might lose value; you give your trust to others, and what is there to fear? Emotional loss? But love is a natural, green, renewable resource. It doesn’t waste energy or pollute the environment. As long as you have a little courage, you can always have more. If you pick a bad investment project and lose money, you still have to scout the next one, right? Don’t you want to scout the next person?”

Chen Wengang looked at him, not speaking or laughing.

Huo Niansheng asked: “Can’t you try trusting me for once?”

At a time like this, whether Chen Wengang wanted to continue was no longer entirely up to him. They had been sitting on the carpet; Huo Niansheng picked him up and placed him on the sofa. He leaned over, his knees pressing into the carpet. Chen Wengang gripped his fingers tight; he pulled so hard that he left messy wrinkles on Huo Niansheng’s shoulders. His inner thoughts were even messier, his head buzzing.

Huo Niansheng asked again: “Try it with me, can you?”

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