Song Shuangxu liked playing cards. She usually played with Shen Yu and the others. Her brothers all doted on her, indulging and humoring her, so she always had a good time.
But He Tingzhou wasn’t one of those “good brothers.”
He wouldn’t even let her touch the tiles, and every hand he made her discard the winning tile.
The chips Shen Yu had put on the table were soon gone, and Song Shuangxu’s brows knitted together.
She felt He Tingzhou was deliberately picking on her.
This wasn’t the first time he’d thrown his weight around and bullied someone weaker than him.
Yue Zifeng couldn’t bear to watch and pleaded with him, “Pick on me, okay? If you make Little Sister Song Shuangxu cry, Shen Yu might come back and settle the score with you.”
He Tingzhou glanced across the table at Song Shuangxu, studying her eyes with interest. “Is she crying? If she cries, I’ll stop.”
Yue Zifeng said, “You’re such a jerk.”
Song Shuangxu had every reason to believe that even if she really did cry, He Tingzhou wouldn’t stop.
The first time she met He Tingzhou, she was only seventeen.
Back then, all Song Shuangxu knew about him came from the rumors circulating outside: arrogant and domineering, reckless, using his power to bully others, nearly killing someone…and so on.
In short, he was no good.
Song Shuangxu remembered her first impression of He Tingzhou: cold, with a hint of danger.
Whenever He Tingzhou came to the Shen household, she’d greet him and then get as far away from him as she could.
On the rare occasions when Shen Yu had to step away and she was responsible for entertaining the guest, she had no choice but to stay and spend time alone with He Tingzhou.
She’d just started learning chess, so she brought out the board and invited He Tingzhou to play.
Shen Yu had taught her himself, and she thought she’d learned pretty well. He always went easy on her, even letting her take back moves, but He Tingzhou was different.
He showed no mercy, crushing her completely.
Song Shuangxu didn’t mind losing, but she didn’t like getting slaughtered.
When she wanted to stop and put the chessboard away, He Tingzhou would lazily cast his long, sharp eyes over her and mock her. “You run away as soon as you lose? Aren’t you ashamed?”
For a while, it gave her a real aversion to chess.
When Shen Yu came back from taking a call, one glance at the obvious state of the game was enough for him to understand. He raised an eyebrow. “Why are you picking on my Little Nine?”
Song Shuangxu immediately gave up her seat to him. She was annoyed that He Tingzhou had been targeting her, but she needed his help now, so she had to put up with it—and even made an excuse for him.
“I’m not very good at this.”
Shen Yu smiled and patted the back of her head twice. Just like before, he tossed his phone to Song Shuangxu to hold, then took his place at the table again.
“Watch closely.”
Shen Yu could hold his own against He Tingzhou. They were evenly matched, trading blows back and forth, and at least he managed to win back some of the ground Song Shuangxu had lost.
Song Shuangxu watched from the side.
She’d never bothered to learn any of the tricks before. She relied on luck, as if the God of Fortune had taken possession of her whenever she played.
Now she realized there was a lot more to it: you had to count the tiles, think several moves ahead, and keep track not only of your own hand but everyone else’s, too.
As the game grew tense, she slipped over to the other side of the table while no one was watching.
She glanced at He Tingzhou’s tiles but couldn’t make sense of them.
That was because he hadn’t sorted them at all. He’d laid them out exactly as he’d drawn them: a Green Dragon wedged between a Four Bamboo and a Nine Circles, while a One Character and a Two Character sat a whole galaxy apart.
The scattered mess was practically designed to foil anyone trying to peek.
Song Shuangxu was trying to figure out what he was waiting for when He Tingzhou turned his head without warning. “Make sense of it yet, little spy?”
Everyone, whose attention had been on the game, immediately looked at Song Shuangxu.
She felt like a thief caught red-handed and publicly put on trial.
“I wasn’t…” She wanted to explain that she hadn’t been trying to spy on him; she was just curious about how he played.
He Tingzhou rocked his chair, speaking in the tone one might use to dismiss a child. “Go for the Eight Bamboo. Now get back and report to your brother.”
When gods fought, it was always ordinary people who suffered. Yue Zifeng had nearly lost the clothes off his back. He slapped his thigh in sudden realization. “So that’s why Shen Yu wins every time! He’s got a little undercover agent!”
Song Shuangxu couldn’t defend herself.
Shen Yu only smiled. He tapped the half-smoked cigarette in his hand against the crystal ashtray without offering any explanation, accepting the charge of having dispatched a spy.
“All’s fair in war.”
As he spoke, he discarded an Eight Bamboo.
He Tingzhou called for the Eight Bamboo, then flipped his tiles over without the slightest hesitation. Rocking his chair, he said, “Mahjong.”
Shuangxu really wanted to kick the leg of his chair.
She obediently went back to her seat and didn’t go near He Tingzhou again.
At midnight, candles were placed in the cake and it was brought before Shen Yu. Everyone formed a circle around him and sang “Happy Birthday” as he stood in the middle, surrounded by them.
Someone jostled Shuangxu, leaving her at the back instead.
That would never have happened before she turned eighteen. Everyone around Shen Yu knew just how much he doted on her.
But she’d have to get used to it sooner or later. She couldn’t stand by his side forever, and Shuangxu was slowly learning to accept that.
She was keeping the beat with the song when Shen Yu’s gaze passed over the others and found her.
The orange candlelight threw shifting shadows across his face. He held out a hand to her. “Little Nine, come here.”
Everyone turned to look at her, and those in front quickly stepped aside to make way.
Shuangxu walked over. Shen Yu rested a hand on her left shoulder and guided her to stand in front of him, facing the dancing candle flames on the cake.
“Make a wish.”
Shuangxu used to do this all the time. She always had so many wishes she couldn’t make them all on her own birthday, so every year Shen Yu let her make a wish on his birthday, too.
Whatever she wished for, Shen Yu would help make it come true.
Shuangxu could feel the many gazes on her, each carrying a different meaning.
But the girl who loved making wishes had grown up. She knew not every wish could come true.
“I don’t have a wish right now,” Shuangxu said. “It’s your birthday, Brother. You should make one.”
The candlelight flickered in Shen Yu’s eyes, making them look deep. When she looked again, all she saw was the same tenderness as always. He touched her hair. “Then save it for later. Make one when you have a wish.”
For the rest of the birthday party, the air was thick with alcohol.
Shuangxu hadn’t gotten a proper rest in the few days since she’d come back. She couldn’t keep her eyes open and fell asleep on the sofa for a while. When she woke, a blanket had been laid over her.
A servant was standing nearby. Seeing that she was awake, she said, “Young Master said that if you’re tired, you can go sleep in a room upstairs.”
Shuangxu looked toward the voices and laughter. Shen Yu and Yue Zifeng and the others were still drinking.
The group of young masters were deep into their drinks, beautiful, vivacious women nestled in their arms.
As the birthday boy, Shen Yu was inevitably being plied with drinks by the others.
He sat back comfortably on the sofa with his long legs crossed. Two buttons of his white shirt were undone. His right hand, holding a cigarette, rested on the arm of the sofa, the cigarette burning unattended. She couldn’t tell whether he was drunk or simply distracted.
The woman sitting beside Shen Yu was strikingly beautiful. Shuangxu thought she looked familiar, as if she were an actress, but couldn’t remember who.
Still half-asleep, she stared blankly in Shen Yu’s direction.
She heard Yue Zifeng tease him, already slurring a little, “She flew here in the middle of the night to celebrate your birthday. Aren’t you going to show her some appreciation?”
Shen Yu said, “Jealous?”
Yue Zifeng said, “If I am, why don’t you give her to me?”
“That won’t do.” The actress smiled sweetly and, with easy familiarity, rested her chin on Shen Yu’s shoulder.
That used to be Shuangxu’s privilege.
She’d been attached to Shen Yu ever since she was little. When Shen Yu went out with Yue Zifeng and the others, she insisted on going along, and Shen Yu always took her with him.
With her there, they kept things innocent. Back then, there were no women around Shen Yu, and whenever she got tired, she would curl up against him and sleep.
Shuangxu’s fixed gaze slipped away, dropping to the floor. The fingers braced on the edge of the sofa were slender and pale.
A moment later, she lifted her head again, showing no sign that anything was wrong, and asked the servant, “Where’s Brother Tingzhou?”
“I haven’t seen Mr. He. He’s probably already left.”
Shuangxu immediately got up and hurried toward the parking lot.
The servant followed behind her, blanket in hand, and asked, “Are you leaving? Aren’t you going to tell Young Master?”
Shuangxu shook her head. “I won’t disturb him.”