Because of this argument, Chu Ci and Han Yue ended up in a cold war lasting more than half a month.
In reality, it was only Chu Ci unilaterally refusing to engage; Han Yue continued doing whatever he needed to do without any disruption. Chu Ci was usually already cold and reserved, and during the “cold war” he simply became even more taciturn. Han Yue, with his rough, unruly temperament, did not even register anything abnormal.
Besides, Han Yue had been busy recently. Although there was nothing in his own department that required his direct intervention, the Hou Hongchang murder case required multiple powerful families to coordinate and contribute resources. The eldest son of the Han family was essentially unreliable, so everything—large or small—had to rely on Han Yue.
There was also the matter of assigning Han Qiang to the logistics procurement department. With the combined influence of Old Commander Han and Han Yue, it would not have been difficult to secure him a comfortable, well-paid, and relatively idle position in military procurement. However, the general’s wife was not satisfied with that arrangement. In her words, the Han family was not short of money or status; since Han Qiang was already grown, how could he be placed in a position without real authority?
Those words—“real authority”—put Han Yue in a near constant state of agitation. He had gone home several times to argue with his mother, staring and slamming the table in frustration. He had spent ten full years working his way into a position with real authority in the military—ten years on the front lines, risking his life repeatedly. The effort and bloodshed behind that achievement were impossible to summarize. Yet now, with a casual remark, his mother wanted to place Han Qiang directly into a similarly powerful position. How could that be so easily done?
Because of this, Han Yue’s mood had been extremely poor during this period, like a firecracker with a lit fuse, ready to explode at any moment.
He had been raised to believe that a man should never bring outside frustrations home to complain to women, so during this time he remained sullen at home, at most standing by the window smoking cigarette after cigarette. Fortunately, Chu Ci had been even more silent than usual—sometimes not speaking a single word the entire day. The house was so quiet it was almost soundless, which also eliminated any chance of Han Yue picking a fight.
After about a month of turmoil, Han Qiang’s career issue was finally resolved. The Commander’s wife and Han Yue each made concessions, and through several well-connected intermediaries, Han Qiang was placed into a relatively important second-line position. Although the Commander’s wife still felt some dissatisfaction, she could only sigh and accept it after considering that her elder son was indeed not particularly reliable.
With one major issue finally resolved, Han Yue’s mood eased significantly. That day, he specially ordered from a military-affiliated hotel two large portions of crab-and-egg noodles, a neatly packed box of Peking duck, two five-jin black fish, and several black truffles to bring home as ingredients. On the way back, he even stopped at a market to buy some bok choy, intending to have Chu Ci stir-fry it.
Chu Ci was not good at complex dishes, but simple stir-frying suited him well. Besides, a table full of poultry and seafood would be too heavy; a vegetable dish was necessary to balance the meal.
After returning home, Han Yue first called Chu Ci and told him to come home early, then went into the kitchen to prepare the ingredients. He cut open the fish and started it stewing, washed the bok choy, and prepared it for stir-frying.
By the time he finished, about an hour had passed—already past Chu Ci’s usual off-work time. Han Yue called his mobile several times before it finally connected; the background noise was loud, as if he were on a street.
“My car broke down,” Chu Ci said flatly. “I’m stuck on the Third Ring Road.”
“Damn it, I told you to drive the Mercedes. Who told you to ignore me? I knew that junk car would break down sooner or later!” Han Yue snapped before he could control his temper. “Where are you now?”
“…Near the Cheng Xurong Hotel.”
Han Yue frowned. “That’s not on your way home. Where were you wandering off to?”
There was a pause on the other end. Then Chu Ci hung up without saying another word.
In truth, Chu Ci had always disliked Han Yue interrogating him about where he went, what he did, and when he would return home. The more Chu Ci resisted, the more Han Yue insisted on asking, as if he needed to know every person Chu Ci met and every word he said.
The call being hung up instantly set Han Yue off. He immediately assumed Chu Ci might be fooling around outside after work, or that there were new young women at his workplace, or that he had gone out drinking with inappropriate colleagues…
Han Yue was already highly territorial, and his possessiveness toward Chu Ci was extreme. By the time he got in the car, he was grinding his teeth, thinking repeatedly that once he caught him, he would lock him up at home with a chain and never let him out again.
Despite his temper, Han Yue had an almost animal-like intuition. With only a rough location, he found Chu Ci within ten minutes.
A white second-hand Honda was parked by the roadside with its trunk and hood open. Chu Ci stood beside the car with another man waiting. From a distance, Han Yue saw it was a man; his anger subsided slightly—after all, he knew Chu Ci had no interest in men, and men posed far less of a threat than women.
He pulled up in his car, got out, and asked, “What’s going on?”
“Ah—Second Young Master Ha !” The man beside Chu Ci nearly bit his tongue off, instantly breaking into a flattering smile. “Oh, what brings you here?”
“…Mr. Liu,” Han Yue recognized him. He was a leader from Chu Ci’s workplace—the same one who had handled the aftermath of the previous group-dining incident. His expression immediately turned into a fake smile that did not reach his eyes. “That’s what I should be asking. Why are you here?”
Mr. Liu’s smile turned strained.
He had bad luck. Originally, a company car was supposed to take him home, but it broke down that night. The driver had arranged another vehicle, but Liu stopped him. He had his own plan—he wanted to hitch a ride in Chu Ci’s car, chat along the way, build rapport, and improve relations.
After the last incident, Liu had been implicated by that foolish colleague Xu Zhongyi and left a very bad impression on Han Yue. He had later reflected and felt quite wronged, so he wanted to improve his relationship with Chu Ci and, indirectly, repair his standing with Han Yue.
People are like that—relationships don’t improve without interaction. His idea was simple: talk casually on the drive home, explain past misunderstandings, maybe even discuss the Han family a bit… relationships would naturally improve.
Unfortunately, Chu Ci’s car broke down that very day.
And even more unfortunately, the call Chu Ci made brought not a tow truck, but this walking disaster.
Liu was smiling on the surface, but internally close to breaking down. What kind of relationship did these two even have? How did he manage to summon Second Young Master Han over a car breakdown? Who exactly was this Engineer Chu? What background did he have?
After figuring out that Liu was just trying to hitch a ride—and also seeing that he was physically unimpressive and already balding—Han Yue lost all sense of threat and relaxed. His expression improved slightly.
“What’s wrong with the car?” he asked.
“No power.”
“Then call a tow truck and take a taxi home yourself.”
“The nearest tow service is 12 kilometers away and charges 3,500,” Chu Ci said coldly, expression unchanged. “Before you arrived, I already called a repair acquaintance. I’m waiting for him.”
Han Yue nearly lost his temper on the spot.
Damn it—he wasn’t even dead yet, and this guy was calling some friend just because the car lost power? What kind of friend could possibly be closer than him?!
However, he still had some emotional intelligence. He knew they were standing on a public road, and there was an outsider surnamed Liu nearby, so it was not appropriate to vent his anger at Chu Ci in front of him.
Han Yue pulled out his wallet, casually took out two hundred-yuan bills and handed them to Mr. Liu. In a very poor tone, he instructed, “Sorry, we can’t host you today. We don’t know when this car will be fixed. Take a taxi home yourself.”
“No, no, no—I-I’ll take a taxi myself! I-I’m leaving right now! Right now!”
Mr. Liu’s expression nearly twisted out of shape. Even if you gave him a hundred more lives, he would not dare take Han Yue’s money. Those weren’t two hundred yuan—they were two hundred live grenades.
Chu Ci said slightly apologetically, “Sorry about this. I was originally supposed to give you a ride along the way…”
Mr. Liu could not possibly accept that apology. He hurriedly forced a smile while slipping away as fast as possible—strategically retreating as the wise do in the “thirty-six stratagems.” Although he wanted to leave a good impression on Han Yue and build ties with the powerful Han family, the situation was already clearly turning hostile. If he didn’t leave now, he would just end up as collateral damage.
“…Next time you get off work, go straight home. Don’t go around sending other people here and there. Can’t he take a taxi himself? Or do you owe him something? That Liu guy just thinks you’re easy to bully!” Han Yue slammed the trunk of the Honda shut, walked around to the front, and checked the engine. His tone was still bad. “Didn’t I tell you to come home early? For something like this just call a tow truck. Whatever it costs, I’ll reimburse you.”
Chu Ci stood by the car door for a moment before finally squeezing out a few words through his teeth: “Thanks. Not necessary.”
Han Yue looked up at him and sneered. “Keep holding out, huh. Stand there and don’t move. I’ll reverse my car and jump-start yours.”
Chu Ci’s car had actually just been left with the headlights on during the day, draining the battery. Han Yue reversed his car, found jumper cables in the trunk, and connected the terminals of the Honda’s battery. He was not wearing gloves; the moment the clamp touched the positive terminal, a sharp spark burst out.
Han Yue sucked in a breath, wiped his hand on his pants, and said, “Get in the car. When I tell you to step on the accelerator, you step on it.”
Han Yue had been driving since middle school, secretly taking his father’s cars, and had over twenty years of experience. His understanding of cars exceeded his understanding of people. With the circuit connected, he started both his car and the Honda in sequence and quickly transferred power from his car’s battery to the Honda’s. Within minutes, everything was handled cleanly and efficiently—faster than a repair shop.
“How about that? Faster than your so-called repair friend, right?” Han Yue removed the jumper cables and clapped his hands. “Done. When you have time, I’ll replace your battery plates. It’s a second-hand car after all—everything’s already aging.”
Chu Ci leaned out of the window, stared at him expressionlessly for a long time, and said: “Thanks, not necessary—I’d rather pay someone else to handle it.”
Before Han Yue could react, Chu Ci stepped on the accelerator and drove off, leaving only a trail of exhaust dust behind.
“…Fuck,” Han Yue wiped his face and muttered, “It’s clearly second-hand and he still won’t let anyone say it.”
Although he was dissatisfied that Chu Ci came home late, overall Han Yue was still fairly pleased with dinner.
He did not personally like truffles—the smell was, to him, vaguely earthy and strange—but he brought them home because he knew Chu Ci liked them.
Once, a friend of Pei Zhi had asked Han Yue for help and booked a table at an Italian restaurant to treat him. However, Han Yue had been called away to a military commission meeting. The pre-ordered dishes could not be canceled, so the friend simply packed everything and sent it to Chu Ci’s home, even calling Han Yue to say: “I’ve sent dinner to your wife’s place—you don’t need to cook tonight!”
That was when Han Yue realized Chu Ci liked truffles. The evidence was simple: he ignored most dishes or only took a bite or two, but the white truffle dishes were mostly finished.
Han Yue rarely discovered Chu Ci’s preferences; once he did, he remembered them firmly. Although he could not understand why someone would like mushrooms that were basically just brushed clean of dirt and not even washed, he still brought them home whenever he found them.
Han Yue’s temper came and went quickly. Watching Chu Ci eat slowly at the table, eyes lowered, long lashes curved, skin glowing under the light, collar slightly open revealing his collarbone, his mood softened again. He even smiled and asked, “Why do you like eating something so earthy?”
“Because it’s sweet.”
“Huh?” Han Yue was surprised. “I don’t taste any sweetness.”
“Because you only know how to eat meat.” Chu Ci put down his bowl and stood up. “I’m full.”
Han Yue laughed, hooked an arm around his neck, forced him to lean down, and patted his face affectionately. “Right. I like eating your meat the most.”
That night, perhaps because Chu Ci was in a bad mood, Han Yue did not go on until dawn. He only released his frustration once and let him go. Chu Ci naturally did not ask why; he was already very tired, and drifted off while being held.
Just as he was half-asleep, he felt Han Yue sit up and put on his clothes. He asked instinctively in a low voice, “Where are you going?”
“To the bathroom.”
Chu Ci did not care at all and immediately fell into deep sleep again.
After confirming he was asleep, Han Yue smiled faintly, got up, and left the room.
Since there was no garage, the white Honda was parked downstairs. It was already second-hand anyway, so it did not matter if mischievous children scratched the paint. Han Yue bit down on a flashlight and opened the hood, working with practiced ease.
After about the time of a meal, Han Yue finally finished modifying the damn second-hand car. Satisfied, he closed the hood and went upstairs humming.
The next morning, when Chu Ci was about to go to work, a problem appeared.
He sat in the driver’s seat and pressed the accelerator hard, but the engine would not start. The battery had clearly been fixed the day before, yet now it refused to ignite no matter what.
Han Yue stood nearby idly checking his watch, wearing an expression that said “you’re going to be late for work.” Chu Ci finally lost patience and called out through the window, “Han Yue!”
Although it was clearly a reluctant and irritated plea for help, Han Yue was quite pleased by it. “Even if you call me, it won’t help. Who has time to fix it in the morning? Just take the Mercedes I gave you. I’ll look into your second-hand car when I have time.”
Morning traffic was already bad. Chu Ci had no time to argue about the forcibly gifted Mercedes S600, so he grabbed the keys and left in a hurry.
Han Yue watched his departing figure for a long moment, then sneered: “Something I give you—you think you can refuse it?”
Then he turned back, looked at the second-hand Honda, and kicked the front of the car casually. “Stay broken for now.”