Zhao Shengge had only just managed to get away from the old residence that afternoon. Generally, when he returned to the old residence, he would not allow anyone to hold a large banquet there. But since he had not yet found time to come out and meet the side branches after returning to the country, the old man had called everyone over.
Internally, the Zhao family did not have any especially melodramatic wealthy-family grudges or schemes. The direct-line households were all pleasure-seeking second-generation wastrels who ate, drank, played, and pursued entertainment unto death. They depended entirely on Zhao Shengge alone to provide the wealth and glory of the second half of their lives, so the foundation of power within Minglong Group had always been relatively centralized and stable.
Except in front of the autocratic and controlling Zhao Maozheng, Zhao Shengge had held great speaking power from a very young age. Besides, over the years, Zhao Maozheng had aged, and his health was no longer what it had been.
Zhao Shengge was young, but his standing was high. Sometimes, even uncles from the side branches who were pushing fifty had to call him young master, though the children in the family called him big brother.
Zhao Shengge had been mature beyond his years since he was young, and on the surface he responded steadily to all of them. In truth, he was annoyed to death inside and wished he could throw every last one of those chattering little radishes into the pool outside.
Zhao Shengge had been a favored son of heaven since adolescence. During holidays, both the direct line and the side branches loved sending their children in front of him. Zhao Shengge then had to give red envelopes, following family ritual as he earnestly urged them to study hard, grow tall, grow up well, and so on, as if one word of advice from him could bless them.
When he returned to the old residence, everyone had already arrived. The long oval dining table was full, and Zhao Maozheng was already seated at the head. But because Zhao Shengge had not arrived, no one had touched their chopsticks.
Only after Zhao Shengge sat down did dinner officially begin.
Because there was no intense fight over interests, the atmosphere carried a kind of false warmth. The women of the various households all solicitously expressed care and concern for Zhao Shengge, then teased the younger members of the family about marriage matters. Only no one dared ask Zhao Shengge.
Public matters, private matters—none of them dared.
No one could make decisions for him.
After all these years, the food at the Zhao residence still did not suit Zhao Shengge’s taste. He lifted the lid of the soup cup, lowered his eyes for a glance, and sighed inwardly. After getting through the meal perfunctorily, he took Shen Zongnian’s car to Zhuo Zhixuan’s new hotel.
The young man sitting beside Chen Wan was named Jiang Ying. He was very easygoing, a painter who had returned from studying in the United States. From a scholarly and prestigious family, he was currently working in Hai City as a curator and antiques appraiser.
He was not someone who fought and killed his way through the business world, but he had a very good relationship with Shen Zongnian, so he was not especially taboo about asking after the matter everyone had recently been avoiding.
“I heard from my family elders that Mrs. Mak is still going to the entrance of Minglong Tower every day to protest and demand justice.”
Tan Youming gave a disdainful laugh. “Even if you put photos of her husband playing with young models at nightclubs right in front of her, she won’t believe it. Before Mak Jiahui jumped, he even set her up, transferring all the debt into the name of their daughter, who hasn’t even graduated yet.”
Another person shook his head helplessly and said to Zhao Shengge, “The rumors are getting even more exaggerated now. The newest version says the last call Mak Jiahui received before jumping was from you. Now everyone is terrified, afraid of getting your death call.”
Zhao Shengge seemed to be thinking about something else. Only when everyone looked over did focus gather again in the depths of his eyes. Many times, during social engagements or meetings, others thought he was steady, taciturn, and unreadable, but sometimes he was actually just spacing out and thinking about his own matters.
Zhao Shengge also knew the matter had recently stirred up a storm throughout the city. He himself did not care about his reputation, whether people called him King Yama or a demon. He wiped his hands clean with a warm towel and calmly explained to everyone, “I did not make that call. It was only that the two parties chose different ways to perform the contract.”
Black words on white paper, clear as day.
When the deadline arrived, the creditor, Zhao Shengge, chose to apply for enforcement. The debtor, Mak Jiahui, chose permanent bankruptcy.
Hearing him analyze it that way, everyone fell silent for a moment and changed the subject.
Chen Wan had the lowest seniority and standing among those present, so he took the initiative to serve soup for everyone. When the lazy Susan turned in front of Zhao Shengge, he was speaking with Shen Zongnian and did not take any. Tan Youming wanted to eat something else, so he turned the lazy Susan away.
Chen Wan’s fingers rested against his wineglass. He wondered whether the previous few times had only been lucky coincidences. He knew Zhao Shengge was picky, but he had never found himself as unable to begin as he was tonight.
Or perhaps too much time had passed, and the teenage Zhao Shengge who had once appeared in their school cafeteria during their student days had been nothing but his own delusion.
Chen Wan could only guess that he had no appetite today. But later, when the server portioned out a small bowl of abalone and lobster seafood congee for each person, he slowly finished it.
Chen Wan drained the wine in his glass. From the clear glass wall, he saw his own lowered eyes, somewhat lost.
He spoke very little and was not familiar with the people present. Occasionally, he exchanged a few words with Jiang Ying, who took the initiative to speak to him, but most of the time he quietly assessed the culinary skills of the chefs Zhuo Zhixuan had spent heavily to hire, silently scoring them in his heart. He liked seeing things through from beginning to end. He recorded the taste and texture of each dish so he could later give his friend some feedback and suggestions.
When the banquet was about to disperse, everyone came over to drink a glass with Zhao Shengge. After all, seeing him once was not easy, and it would only become harder in the future.
Chen Wan hesitated a little, but then he thought that perhaps there would never again be such an opportunity to blend into the crowd and toast Zhao Shengge. So he poured himself a very sincere glass of white liquor.
Unfortunately, when it was his turn, Zhao Shengge raised his hand to glance at his wristwatch, then left first with Shen Zongnian.
Chen Wan blinked in confusion. His heart felt as if it had stepped into empty air. His hand had already been about to lift the glass.
Fortunately, almost no one noticed his movement. Only Jiang Ying, who was sitting beside him, seemed afraid he would feel embarrassed and gave him a comforting look.
Chen Wan did not care much about face or embarrassment. He only felt it was a little regrettable. He scratched the back of his head and gave Jiang Ying a smile in return, then slowly drank that glass of white liquor himself, somewhat dejectedly.
Insufficiently fermented, with a faintly bitter finish.
But he had chosen the wine himself. Bitter or not, he had to finish it.
Everyone left one after another. Chen Wan was the last one. No matter the occasion, he was always the one who stayed behind at the end to clean up and handle whatever remained.
Sure enough, he discovered a cigarette case and a Zorro lighter left at Zhao Shengge’s seat.
Chen Wan’s gaze paused slightly, as if he had unexpectedly discovered treasure. His expression, however, was very steady. He walked over and stood there, looking down at them coldly.
The cigarettes were Romeo and Juliet. He had thought the brand now specialized only in cigars and no longer made cigarettes. It turned out they had switched to private customization. The pattern on the cigarette case was classical, and its texture was excellent. The tip of Chen Wan’s nose moved slightly. Orange notes, very faint and light.
In his impression, Zhao Shengge actually smoked very rarely, and he never exhaled clouds of smoke in public.
He had only once seen it from afar while stepping out for air during a dinner. The other man had held a slim cigarette between his teeth, and his beautifully peaked lips had looked very red, very soft.
Chen Wan stood where he was, eyes lowered, expressionless.
Take it.
Do not take it.
This was an honored-guest private room, and there were no cameras installed. His fingers had already begun stirring restlessly beyond the control of reason.
Outside, violin music began. People came and went. Only a door separated them. Chen Wan’s expression was still fairly calm, but his heartbeat had already quickened, like a thief with everything prepared.
Pandora’s box was right in front of him, just like its owner: mysterious, precious, full of temptation, waiting only for him to open it with his own hands.
Chen Wan’s hand slowly reached over.
After several seconds, it withdrew again.
Chen Wan decisively called the manager over and said a guest had left something behind, telling him to wrap the cigarettes and lighter properly and hand them to Zhao Shengge’s assistant.
The manager had worked with Chen Wan all afternoon today and trusted him greatly. Since Chen Wan had made a special point of entrusting and instructing him, this was certainly not some ordinary person.
A while later, the manager returned and informed him with some difficulty that he could not reach the other party.
Chen Wan understood. “It’s all right. This guest is rather difficult to find.” After all, he was someone even members of the Zhao family’s main household had to go through layers of secretaries and assistants to meet. Chen Wan took the cigarette case and lighter back. “Thank you for the trouble. Go on and take care of your work.”
He walked around the brightly lit banquet hall for quite a while before finding Zhuo Zhixuan. The other man looked radiant, which meant the afternoon’s exhaustion had not gone to waste.
Zhuo Zhixuan asked, “Did you drink?” Chen Wan had a very good tolerance and did not flush easily, but at this moment he did not look quite normal.
Chen Wan did not really want to mention the failed toast, so he mumbled vaguely and handed him the cigarette case and lighter wrapped in kraft paper, asking him to pass them on.
Ordinary cigarettes and a lighter would have been one thing, but this sort of private customization already counted as a personal item. If someone with intentions took them, even a casual investigation would reveal whose they were.
Zhuo Zhixuan opened the carefully wrapped kraft paper and glanced inside. The little bit of tipsiness from being praised by everyone tonight sobered somewhat. He looked at Chen Wan for a while, speechless. “Can’t you give them to him yourself?”
“No need.” Chen Wan had not originally intended to smoke, but his craving had been stirred up a little by that pack of Romeo and Juliet cigarettes. He took out his own cigarettes, clicked the lighter, lit one, and lowered his head to take a drag. Just now, he had still been hesitating over whether to steal one of the other man’s cigarettes, yet now he had become very carefree again. He specially instructed, “If he asks, say a server found them. Don’t mention me.”
“...You’re sick.” Zhuo Zhixuan’s springtime smugness from the evening was all angered away by him. He cursed, “No need, no need—then what are you after?”
Perhaps because he had drunk, or perhaps because he himself was riding high today and could not bear seeing his close friend so bleak and pitiful, Zhuo Zhixuan unconsciously raised his voice.
Chen Wan looked at him somewhat strangely and blurted out very naturally, “I’m not after anything.”
That was the truth.
He liked Zhao Shengge, but that did not mean he wanted to pursue him.
A relationship—he had never had that plan at all.
Zhuo Zhixuan truly could not understand. “You really haven’t thought about it even a little? Then what are you doing, busying yourself in and out like this as charity?”
“...” Chen Wan found it a little funny inside, and also looked at him with some incomprehension, wondering how to explain to this friend of his—who had always followed his body and never his heart—that giving did not necessarily have to mean wanting something in return. “No. I’m not planning to pursue him, and wanting to see the person I like once in a while, or wanting to do something for him now and then—those things don’t conflict, do they?”
If he could completely restrain himself, he would not have allowed this bit of feeling to take root in his heart for years.
Zhuo Zhixuan very clearly still could not understand.
Chen Wan was looked at by him with that expression until he almost did not know what to say. He stubbed out the end of his cigarette and said helplessly, “If you insist on asking, then let’s say what I’m after is that wherever I am, I can make him feel a little more comfortable, a little more at ease.”
Chen Wan did not even need to become very familiar with Zhao Shengge. It was enough to be in the same circle and occasionally see him.
If a place where Chen Wan was present could make the other man happy for a few minutes, that would be best of all. It was as if, during those few minutes, his feelings would have meaning. Just a few minutes was already enough.
A few minutes in the sense of time could also become eternity in Chen Wan’s memory.
“...” Zhuo Zhixuan could not understand his train of thought. He gestured a thumbs-up and praised in a mocking tone, “Fine. Great. Chen the Great Philanthropist.”
“...”
After sending Chen Wan off, Zhuo Zhixuan called Zhao Shengge. Unexpectedly, Zhao Shengge had not left yet either. Usually, after a social engagement ended, he would not stay even one second longer.