“I just ran into someone from the Fang family and chatted for a few minutes. I’m in the parking lot now.”
“All right. Wait there. I’ll come down.”
Among the luxury cars with lucky-number plates, Zhuo Zhixuan found the Maybach, walked over, and knocked on the door.
The rear window lowered. Zhao Shengge was leaning back against the seat, one hand resting casually on the window frame. He nodded at him and asked, “What is it?”
Zhuo Zhixuan bent slightly and handed the things over. “A server found these while cleaning. They should be yours.”
The cigarette case and lighter had been wrapped in kraft paper, neat and clean. They did not look like lost items picked up during a cleanup. They looked like a gift.
Zhao Shengge took them, opened the wrapping, and glanced down.
Then his eyes lifted abruptly, fixed straight on Zhuo Zhixuan. His gaze was still and unhurried, too deep to see the bottom.
Zhuo Zhixuan’s palm suddenly broke out in warm sweat, though in this position, he was clearly the one standing above him.
But Zhao Shengge’s brows and eyes were dark and intense. Even when he looked at someone without any particular meaning, it still gave the impression of a deep, sharp scrutiny, as if there were layers beneath it—even if perhaps he himself had not meant it that way.
Zhuo Zhixuan suddenly remembered how, when they were young and all played rugby together, several of them had been on the team Zhao Shengge led. If they lost, Zhao Shengge never got angry. He would always patiently guide everyone through tactical adjustments, then offer a few words of encouragement. Not many, but they carried weight. Some people were born with leadership and a sense of security; it was very easy for them to bind a group of people together.
Zhao Shengge was lenient toward teammates who had not played well.
But once, someone had deliberately pretended to be offside and passed the ball back. After that, Zhuo Zhixuan never saw that person appear beside Zhao Shengge again.
Not being strong enough could be forgiven.
Lying and cheating could not.
Zhuo Zhixuan truly wanted to know whether there was anyone in this world who could lie in front of Zhao Shengge without feeling guilty.
Oh.
There really was one.
Chen the Great Philanthropist.
He must have owed Chen Wan something in his last life. No, he owed him a life in this one too.
Just as Zhuo Zhixuan was about to say something, Zhao Shengge gave him a very faint smile. “Thank you for making the trip.”
“…It’s nothing.” Because he was speaking to him, Zhuo Zhixuan had kept his head lowered the whole time.
Zhao Shengge handed him a cigarette, patted his shoulder, and said, “The hotel is very good. An auspicious opening.”
Then he left.
“…”
Chen Wan was helping Zhuo Zhixuan see off guests at the hotel, entirely unaware that he had stumbled and staggered his way out of danger without knowing it.
He always thought Zhao Shengge would not remember him.
But he did not know that he had a face that could tempt people into crime.
He also did not know that Zhao Shengge might have a hundred things to handle in a single day, but the number of people he needed to meet in a week might not even reach ten.
Besides, Zhao Shengge was a man so alert, perceptive, and suspicious.
Zhao Shengge sat in the back seat with one leg crossed, toyed with the lighter, then tossed it aside.
Hai City’s weather changed without warning. Rain had already begun drifting outside the car window. The rainwater smeared across the glass like broken threads, and the wind was fierce. The Observatory was probably preparing to issue a red rain warning again.
On the second day after the previous No. 8 storm signal left Hai City, Zhao Shengge had finished a video conference and gone to Tan Youming’s club.
That night, the lighting, music, even the temperature had all been unusually appropriate. Relaxing. Subtly different from every previous visit.
When the fruit platter was served, Shen Zongnian asked Tan Youming, “Are you upgrading the service here?”
Zhao Shengge leaned against the sofa and swept a glance over the platter, which was almost entirely filled with subtropical fruits he liked.
The mangosteens had already been scored with very shallow crosses.
This kind of troublesome, delicate fruit stained one’s hands purple when opened, but if the flesh was picked out in advance, it would oxidize and discolor within minutes.
Scoring it was much more convenient. It made the fruit easy to split while still allowing the flesh to remain protected inside the peel.
There was also a kind of pomelo called Ruby. Those had been cut open, the seeds removed. Even someone as picky as Zhao Shengge had eaten several extra segments that night.
It was not that Tan Youming’s club had upgraded its service.
It was that someone who liked to worry had been added.
Chen Wan hid himself in the dim light, reducing his presence as much as possible, while Zhao Shengge openly assessed him beneath the spotlight.
It had happened more than once.
Once, after a dinner ended, they were at Shen Zongnian’s teahouse. Several men sat around an Eight Immortals table discussing business, while Chen Wan carried a teapot off by himself to boil water and make tea.
He barely spoke. His hands were very pale. Between the roots of the index and middle fingers of his right hand, there was a tiny mole, appearing and disappearing as his fingers opened and closed.
His whole person looked gentle, courteous, restrained, and domestic, as if perfectly suited for hearth and home.
Even the temperature of the warmed cup had been calculated so that it felt just right in the hand.
Details like these were nailed into Zhao Shengge’s mind like precise icons.
Wherever Chen Wan was, even the humidity in the air became the most comfortable possible.
It had not happened many times.
But it was enough.
Enough to put Zhao Shengge on alert.
To be fair, Chen Wan conducted himself naturally and openly. His careful consideration was quiet, soundless, and without trace.
Most importantly, he treated everyone the same.
He did not flatter people like Tan Youming, who had prominent status. He did not blame a server who accidentally spilled wine. He was courteous and measured, knowing when to advance and when to withdraw.
He was very clever. He tried to turn this careful, considerate social etiquette into indiscriminate worldly manners—not deliberately being good to anyone in particular, but treating everyone’s preferences equally, observing them all with equal care, attending to everything for everyone.
He was skilled at shaping himself into a vulgar image of someone serving those above him and presenting that image to others, deepening it again and again.
All of it made sense. There were no flaws. Chen Wan had refined it to perfection. Chen Wan had made it transcendent.
Chen Wan had almost succeeded.
Unfortunately, he had met Zhao Shengge.
Zhao Shengge, a man with more angles in him than a pineapple had eyes.
Everyone else accepted Chen Wan’s kindness as a matter of course, confidently and righteously.
Zhao Shengge did not.
Zhao Shengge was not so narcissistic as to assume everything centered on him.
But who told Chen Wan to rinse the Big Red Robe tea through twice before handing it to him that night?
Hai City had a saying: the stronger the tea, the bigger the business. People here all drank strong tea. Zhao Shengge had only switched to lighter tea after years abroad had ruined his stomach with foreign food.
Occasionally, his secretary would forget to filter the tea leaves twice. Zhao Shengge could taste it on the first sip.
He simply did not say so.
Zhao Shengge was not in the habit of being harsh with others. As long as it was not a matter of principle, he honestly did not care much.
But this was an extremely small, extremely private personal habit.
Zhao Shengge did not like explaining things as coincidences.
He liked clues. He liked drawing out threads and peeling away the cocoon. He liked cutting boldly through chance events to extract objective patterns.
Coincidence was accidental.
Only patterns were eternal.
Chen Wan wanted to use “vulgarity” and “worldliness” to advertise and conceal himself, but he missed one point.
He did not let Zhao Shengge see his intent.
A person whose intent could not be seen was dangerous.
Chen Wan was clever.
But his luck was bad.
He had run into Zhao Shengge.
When a rose met a tiger, the tiger did not need to bend down and sniff for its fragrance to give it away.
From childhood to adulthood, Zhao Shengge had seen honeyed words hiding blades, double-dealing, countless displays of retreating in order to advance, and catching by first releasing.
The cigarette case and lighter were only a small test. They proved nothing.
Not using them to climb higher only meant Chen Wan knew his place, not that he was harmless.
Chen Wan thought he had returned them without anyone knowing.
Zhao Shengge could also refuse them without showing a trace.
Chen Wan made no sound, like a vague, weightless mist that drifted over from time to time, only to be scattered again by the wind.
Zhao Shengge disliked vagueness.
He disliked the unknown.
He disliked uncertainty.
He disliked other people playing little games with him.
That was why, on the day of the auction, the BYD had suffered an undeserved disaster.
Chen Wan went to pick up the car from the shop the next day.
After overestimating itself and fighting the Rolls-Royce to the death, the BYD had developed problems and been sent in for repairs.
The owner was an acquaintance. He asked how Chen Wan had managed to drive a commuter car famous for endurance until its engine system ran a fever that would not come down.
Chen Wan patted the hood of his beloved car and gave a cold laugh. “Ran into a lunatic.”
After the auction that day, he had specifically looked into it, but found nothing. That Rolls-Royce with ordinary plates and an insufferable attitude seemed to have vanished from Hai City like steam.
Just like Zhao Shengge after the opening banquet that day.
He disappeared again, silently and without explanation, for almost two months.
Even Tan Youming could not find him. Zhao Shengge handled countless affairs every day and had a special status. Two years earlier, he had also experienced a dangerous shooting incident abroad, so he had no choice but to be cautious. Everyone understood.
Or rather, they were used to it.
Chen Wan never took the initiative to ask.
But Zhuo Zhixuan knew him. So when everyone was having dinner together, he deliberately guessed that Zhao Shengge had gone to Canada, because there was an important closed-door economic industry meeting there recently.
Zhao Shengge had just been elected as a council member of the Asia-Pacific Trade Association this year. The possibility that he would attend was high.
Tan Youming cut in and said probably not. Logically, he should have gone to Singapore, because Minglong was planning to build a new batch of factories there soon.
Normally, building factories was not something Zhao Shengge needed to personally handle. But this batch consisted entirely of fully intelligent factories. Minglong—or rather, Zhao Shengge—was always at the forefront of the industry. This was the first large-scale production deployment of the new AL program.
Tan Youming was not certain either, so he looked toward Shen Zongnian.
Whether Shen Zongnian truly did not know or not, he kept his mouth shut.
He had always been tight-lipped and sparing with words.
Tan Youming narrowed his eyes. “You’re not lying to me, are you?”
Back when they were studying, whenever Zhao Shengge worked on robots and model aircraft, he often called only Shen Zongnian. He thought Tan Youming and Zhuo Zhixuan had three-minute attention spans and could not sit still.
Shen Zongnian shrugged, as indifferent as usual. “I’m not.”
Chen Wan did not know whom to believe.
He listened as the topic circled around and around, yet still could not dig out the slightest clue. He felt somewhat disappointed.
He could not help thinking that being Zhao Shengge’s friend was no easy thing either. He wondered whether the person who would stand beside Zhao Shengge in the future would also be like this—only able to meet him once every three or five months, with his whereabouts strictly confidential and impossible to trace.
Forever able only to wait passively.
To keep silent watch.
But none of this had anything to do with Chen Wan.
Even willingness would not fall to him.
Chen Wan was already the one waiting by a tree for the rabbit to strike, but he did not know how much longer he could keep waiting.
Once that person truly appeared, he would not keep watch anymore.
Zhuo Zhixuan saw Chen Wan sitting there quietly, drinking tea without saying a word, and his heart gave a sudden jolt. When they left, he deliberately pulled him aside and said solemnly, “Don’t do anything reckless.”
“What?”
Zhuo Zhixuan studied him for a while, then said, “What we said just now was only guesswork. Don’t actually get on a plane. If Zhao Shengge really wants to hide, even the old man of their family can’t find him.”
“…”
Chen Wan looked at him as if he were an idiot. “Am I sick?”
Zhuo Zhixuan looked at him as if he were a lunatic and answered quite seriously, “You already are.”
“…”