The three of them scrambled out of the hotpot restaurant like refugees fleeing a disaster.
Xu Yanghe’s phone was ringing incessantly.
“Yang,” Zhou Lan called out to him.
Right in front of them, Xu Yanghe turned his phone off with an air of total indifference. “It doesn’t mean a damn thing.”
“Fair enough,” Zhou Lan relaxed slightly. “If anything happens, let me know.”
Xu Yanghe, remembering Xie Chun shivering under the overpass, said disdainfully, “What use are you? Apologize to him first.”
Zhou Lan’s expression flickered with stubbornness, but just then, Xie Chun let out two sharp sneezes from the cold. Zhou Lan panicked. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I really didn’t do it on purpose. They didn’t tell me there was liquor mixed in. Xu Yanghe, where are the tissues in your car?”
“I’m fine, I’m okay,” Xie Chun said.
“To your right,” Xu Yanghe replied, watching them through the rearview mirror with a sour feeling in his chest.
The ride was quiet. In the back seat, Zhou Lan spoke to Xie Chun in a low voice. “Don’t catch a cold. I have some medicine at my place; I’ll brew a pack for you later. Do you drink ginger soup? I’ll go buy some.”
Xie Chun said, “It’s fine. I don’t catch colds easily.”
Xu Yanghe drove, unable to find an opening to join the conversation.
As they neared the destination, Zhou Lan’s phone rang. It was Yu Dashan. Unable to reach Xu Yanghe, he had called Zhou Lan to ask if Xu Yanghe was still mentally stable.
“He’s fine. He’s even driving,” Zhou Lan said.
Yu Dashan sighed. “That’s good. Man, when those trending topics popped up, it scared the life out of me.”
Xu Yanghe chuckled and said loudly, “Wasn’t it your doing? Why are you scared?”
He didn’t hide a thing. In the back, Xie Chun and Zhou Lan exchanged looks.
“No, I didn’t do all that!” Yu Dashan protested. “I had no idea you’d go viral so easily. I only wrote a few sentences, but they’ve dug up your dad, your mom, even stuff from before you were born. God, the rumors are wild. The angrier the better, apparently. Anyway, stay off the internet for a few days. They’re just waiting for you to get mad and say something stupid so they can keep bashing you.”
Xu Yanghe agreed.
They arrived at Zhou Lan’s apartment building and unloaded the four large suitcases.
Zhou Lan said to Xie Chun, “Come with me.”
“I won’t go up. I want to go home,” Xie Chun said.
Xu Yanghe leaned against the front of his car, watching them. Zhou Lan asked Xu Yanghe, “Aren’t you leaving?”
“In a bit,” Xu Yanghe smiled. “Driving made me dizzy. I’m going for a walk.”
Zhou Lan ignored him and looked at the four heavy suitcases with a frown. “There’s so much stuff, I can’t move it all up by myself.” He pulled a few bills out of his pocket—Xu Yanghe couldn’t see how much—and shoved them into Xie Chun’s hand. “Help me bring these up.”
Xu Yanghe interjected, “Do you not have hands, or are you still drunk?”
Xie Chun, however, was perfectly happy to help. “Okay.”
Zhou Lan snapped at Xu Yanghe, “Have some tact. We’re roommates; we have things to talk about.”
Xie Chun and Zhou Lan each pushed two suitcases through the front door. Xie Chun looked back at Xu Yanghe several times and said, “Thank you.”
Xu Yanghe nodded, just watching. He could see from where he stood that the building had an elevator…
The snow grew heavier.
The elevator stopped at the top floor. Xie Chun was still processing the speed. “We’re here already?”
Zhou Lan smiled but didn’t say anything.
He lived in a massive luxury flat. The elevator opened directly into a living room so wide you could run laps in it. It faced a floor-to-ceiling window offering a stunning view of the city at night.
“It’s huge,” Xie Chun marveled, hauling the suitcases out one by one.
“Feel free to look around. I’ll go fix your medicine,” Zhou Lan said.
Look at… what?
Xie Chun stood in place, glancing around. The apartment was exquisitely decorated; Xie Chun didn’t understand the style, but everything seemed to sparkle. Zhou Lan hadn’t turned on the main lights, only a dim, warm light in the foyer, yet it seemed to touch every corner of the vast space. The crystal chandeliers reflected the light, silk fabrics with intricate patterns were draped over the sofa, and fresh flowers sat on the coffee table.
Xie Chun walked to the window. It was the twentieth floor—didn’t people get vertigo living this high? He could see the entire layout of K-University from here.
“Xie Chun, Xie Chun!” Zhou Lan called twice.
“Coming!” Xie Chun replied. He walked to the bedroom door and peeked in. “Can I come in?”
“It’s fine,” Zhou Lan smiled. “This is the guest room.”
“Oh.” Xie Chun walked in, and Zhou Lan handed him a cup of medicine. “Drink this.”
Under the dim, warm light, Xie Chun felt his hand being brushed as he took the cup. The medicine was made with boiling water, so Xie Chun sipped it slowly. Zhou Lan watched him. “What do you think of my place?”
“It’s very big. Very pretty,” Xie Chun said.
Zhou Lan curled his lips, thinking for a moment, a trace of loneliness appearing in his eyes. “It looks big, but it’s a bit cold living here alone.”
Xie Chun finally looked up and met his eyes seriously. “It’s cold probably because you didn’t turn on the air conditioning.”
“Huh?” Zhou Lan was caught off guard. “Are… are you cold? I didn’t notice. I’ll go turn it on.”
“I’m fine,” Xie Chun stopped him. “I’m not cold anymore after drinking this!”
“Ah, right,” Zhou Lan said, his shoulders slumping.
Where did he go wrong?
After a moment, Zhou Lan said, “Actually, I want to rent out this guest room. Do you know anyone looking for a place?”
Xie Chun thought for a bit. “No.”
“The rent isn’t important,” Zhou Lan continued. “I’m not short on money. If it’s someone I get along with, I might not even charge rent.”
Xie Chun contemplated this. “Hmm…”
Zhou Lan waited for him to speak.
“It’s going to be very hard to find someone then,” Xie Chun said, finishing the last of the medicine. “Where is the kitchen?”
Zhou Lan: “…Across the hallway.”
“Got it.” Xie Chun ran over to wash the cup.
Zhou Lan stood still for a moment, then looked at the ceiling and let out a long sigh. “Ugh—”
Xie Chun popped his head back in. “What’s wrong?”
Zhou Lan: “Nothing.”
Xie Chun: “Okay.”
Xie Chun efficiently washed the cup. Zhou Lan stood behind him, reaching out to take it from him. But Xie Chun suddenly stepped aside and placed the cup into a hanging cabinet. “It goes here, right? I saw the others; they’re all the same.”
Zhou Lan smiled. “Yes.”
Xie Chun walked to the window and looked down. “I’m going home now.”
“It’s late and it’s snowing. It’s not safe,” Zhou Lan said quickly, stepping forward. “Why don’t you…”
“It’s fine, I don’t live far,” Xie Chun smiled. “The snow is getting heavier; I need to move fast.”
Downstairs, the spot where Xu Yanghe had parked was empty. Snow was gradually covering the gap. Xie Chun left quickly. Not long after, the lights in Zhou Lan’s window went out. Xie Chun followed the streetlights, walking home step by step.
…
During the time Xu Yanghe’s phone was off, the internet had exploded.
Yu Dashan had only intended for someone to write an article about “Rich Second-Gen Drag Racing Disturbing Residents at Xiaoyoushan,” paired with some blurry, ambiguous photos from the night of the accident. It primarily highlighted Xu Yanghe and the arrogant attitude he showed when stepping out of his car.
Soon, people who knew him identified him as the only son of Haicheng tycoon Xu Qian and his second wife, Lian Xin.
Once the name Lian Xin appeared, netizens couldn’t sleep.
Who was she? Twenty years ago, she was a superstar whose dramas everyone knew. At the peak of her career, she chose to retire and marry, disappearing from the public eye. Fans respected her choice, hoping she was happy. But the news that trickled out over the years was grim: postpartum depression, a husband who was constantly cheating, terminal illness, inability to move.
All the information was just hearsay; no one had actually seen her. Some speculated she was already dead. Fans took it upon themselves to seek justice, contacting the government and searching for the truth, only to find out she really was dead. Unsatisfied, they hired private investigators, but the findings only got stranger.
Poisoned by a nanny, murdered by her husband, strangled by a stepson, suicide in a bathtub… every bizarre, sensationalist story was attached to her name.
And this overbearing playboy in the photos was Lian Xin’s son?
At this point, another wave of netizens investigated the site of the incident, Xiaoyoushan. To develop Haicheng’s Youshan New District, large sums of money had been poured into the area, tied to the construction of the Youshan Airport. Projects in the district had gone through official bidding—for example, the plan for Xiaoyoushan was to develop it into a massive ecological park.
Yet, looking at it now, there was no construction in sight. Only a racing track paved for the amusement of rich kids and trash everywhere.
By what right?
In the early hours of the morning, two groups of netizens collided and compared notes: Lian Xin’s son is such a bastard? How can you face your mother, who died with such grievances? How dare you occupy national land resources? Investigate him!
They dug up everything about Xu Yanghe from birth to the present. Since it was near the New Year and everyone was on holiday, they had nothing but time.
Amidst the boiling public opinion, someone suddenly claimed that the qualification reports for Xiaoyoushan weren’t even sufficient to support an ecological park.
Netizens swarmed: What do you mean? Are you trying to whitewash Xu Yanghe? The tycoon’s water army is already here?
Then, surveillance footage of the car accident was released. It was claimed that Xu Yanghe was completely lawless, with no regard for human life. To win a race, he had intentionally crashed into his opponent, leaving the other driver hospitalized to this day.
This hit right when public anger was at its peak. Who was the other driver? Investigate Sun Bin too!
The investigation revealed that the Xiaoyoushan project was actually in the hands of a company under Sun Bin’s name. He’s the real one using public land for private gain!
Furthermore, Xu Yanghe’s childhood information had been locked down by Xu Qian, and he had lived a relatively normal life as a student afterward. His only “weak point” was his love for racing, making him difficult and unsatisfying to dig into.
Sun Bin was different. His status as an illegitimate son alone brought up a treasure trove of drama. His recent activities abroad—smoking weed, multi-person parties—were countless.
The Sun family tried to control the narrative, but they couldn’t stop the mouths of millions.
…
Xu Yanghe, who had been trending for days, spent his time at home doing a deep clean. He finally turned his phone back on the day before New Year’s Eve.
The first call was from Xu Jin. His voice sounded exhausted. “How are you doing lately?”
“Fine,” Xu Yanghe said.
“The stuff online…” Xu Jin probed.
Xu Yanghe replied, “Oh, I arranged that. Don’t worry about it.”
“Nobody is worrying about it,” Xu Jin said.
Xu Yanghe went silent.
Suddenly, the sound of a little girl crying erupted on Xu Jin’s end. Xu Jin partially covered the receiver. “Auntie Liu!”
A woman’s voice responded, and the crying faded away.
“By the way, no one will be at the house for the New Year,” Xu Jin told him. “If you want to go back, call the butler ahead of time to open the door for you.”
“Oh.” Xu Yanghe didn’t see the point in going back. “You’re spending New Year’s with your mom?”
“Yes,” Xu Jin said.
Xu Yanghe: “And that just now?”
“I brought Xu Sining with me,” Xu Jin sighed heavily. “They said they’re going abroad for some European conferences. Singing is too young for the flight.”
Xu Yanghe sneered. He’d seen Tang Xiuxiu’s social media—what kind of “conference” involved mountain resorts, beaches, and luxury shopping sprees?
Xu Jin said, “Are you free lately? Maybe you should…”
Xu Yanghe: “I’m hanging up, brother.”
“Wait!” Xu Jin gave up on his idea and gave a final reminder. “I went to see your mother today. You should go too if you have time, especially lately… I left the flowers there. Not anyone else…”
“Got it.” Xu Yanghe hung up.
Bored out of his mind and afraid to go outside, Xu Yanghe decided to harass Xie Chun.
Xu Yanghe: I heard you got a 690 on the Gaokao. Xu Yanghe: Was that the raw score? Xu Yanghe: Is that supposed to be impressive? Xu Yanghe: What exactly is your major study? Xu Yanghe: So, are you good at math? Xu Yanghe: Do you know Professor Lin Weihua for Advanced Math? Xu Yanghe: That old man failed me.
The phone kept vibrating. Xie Chun: “…”
His student looked up. “Brother Chun, your phone.”
“Focus on the problems,” Xie Chun said sternly.
“Oh,” the student muttered, burying their head back in the work.
Xie Chun glanced at the messages.
Xie Chun: Professor Lin cares a lot about attendance. You probably missed too many classes. Xie Chun: I’m working. Don’t be noisy. Xu Yanghe: No. Xu Yanghe: It’s because I missed one-third of the classes.