Ming Rao first met Yan Yuchuan six years ago at the Port University Science and Innovation Camp.
Just one week into summer break, he had already packed up and moved back home from his apartment near Port University. But before he could even get comfortable, Lu Feiyang called, cursing up a storm, and kept rambling from the phone call all the way until they were face to face.
“Tell me, is he out of his damn mind? I’m studying finance! Finance! And what’s this called? A Science and Innovation Camp! What the hell am I supposed to do here? Can I understand a single word of it?”
“It’s fine,” Ming Rao said, holding a heavy camera and burying his head in it as he dusted off the crevices, offering a half-hearted consolation. “Even if it were called a ‘Finance Innovation Camp,’ you still wouldn’t understand it.”
“Get out of here,” Lu Feiyang shoved him, nearly knocking his camera to the ground. “I swear to God, he says he wants to ‘build character’ can’t he build it by letting me work at the family company? What am I supposed to do here? Can I run experiments? And they even assigned someone to track my attendance. I can’t even skip it. Damn old man, all he does is torment me!”
The lanky guy slinging an arm around his shoulder was Xiang Zhan, Lu Feiyang’s most loyal sidekick, dutifully soothing him: “Hey, you just check in and leave anyway. You can find someone to write your project for you, half-ass it, and it’s done. Didn’t the advisor say we’re only juniors, so we just need to stay two months, not the full year? Grab a completion certificate and we’re out. Calm down, calm down.”
“Two months? That’s my entire summer! How many summers does a man get in life?”
Xiang Zhan patted Lu Feiyang’s chest, grinning obsequiously. “The moment you called, we came running. We’re brothers we share the hardship. We’ll hit the town tonight!”
The innovation camp hosted by Port University was famous far and wide. Besides its own students, many young people from other cities came seeking admission. But the camp’s bar was extremely high officially, it selected “the best,” though the meaning of “best” was open to interpretation. Academic performance alone was nowhere near enough. As the camp grew bigger, it had gradually transformed from a grassroots entrepreneurship platform into a playground for the rich and powerful everyone admitted was either wealthy or influential.
Lu Feiyang’s father was one of the camp’s behind-the-scenes sponsors, and sending his young master in for “training” was a gesture of how much he valued it.
Speaking of which, Lu Feiyang was practically green with envy over Ming Rao, Ming’s Real Estate was also a sponsor of the camp, so why hadn’t Ming Rao’s parents forced him to come and show face?
Ming Rao patted Lu Feiyang on the shoulder and said, infuriatingly, “Because I’m lucky, of course.”
“Damn.” Lu Feiyang took another hit out of nowhere and nearly spat blood.
If anyone was born lucky, it was Ming Rao son of an old-money dynasty, and the second son at that. He had a capable older brother to inherit the family business. His father, Ming Yiqing, had struggled his whole life, finally securing the chairman’s seat of Ming’s Real Estate past his forties. Ming Rao, meanwhile, had completely missed that cutthroat era of family infighting and simply reaped the rewards of his father’s hard-won success.
Ming Rao’s greatest contribution to the Ming family was inheriting his mother Song Wan’s breathtaking beauty from her youth. That made his father dote on this late-born son without restraint, and even his older brother, though occasionally envious of how much smoother Ming Rao’s life was, could hold him in his hands and spoil him without a shred of resentment.
Lu Feiyang could only accept his fate even among rich second-generation heirs, there were tiers of luck.
The three of them braved the blazing sun, strolling lazily from the main teaching building to the side gate of campus. Ming Rao walked with his head down, scrolling through comments on his latest photo post on Little Sweet Potato, when he felt a nudge on his arm.
“Look over there.”
Ming Rao followed Lu Feiyang’s pointed direction.
School was out, so the gate was far less crowded than usual. Only two guys stood there, each lugging a big bag clearly from out of town.
One was short, wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses that fit the stereotypical engineering student look. The other was startlingly tall, so much so that at first glance, all you could see were his legs. He was currently speaking in low tones with the security guard.
The innovation camp wasn’t short on second-generation heirs like Lu Feiyang, sent in to suffer by their families, but it also attracted genuinely ambitious young people with entrepreneurial dreams. Every year, you’d run into a few of them standing outside the gate, gazing in with longing.
“Damn,” Lu Feiyang scowled, spittle flying. “Where’d these broke bastards come from? Walking right into my crosshairs.”
He stormed off, leaving Xiang Zhan and Ming Rao in the dust in the blink of an eye. Xiang Zhan shouted after him, asking where he was going. Lu Feiyang turned back with a grand air: “Cleaning up the streets.”
Xiang Zhan followed his Feiyang-ge’s lead without question, scurrying after him.
Lu Feiyang had grown up roaming the streets and had an intensely territorial instinct, almost animalistic. In his eyes, his university was his turf even if he only showed up a few times a semester, he wouldn’t tolerate any outsider trespassing.
Ming Rao wasn’t the combative type like Lu Feiyang. As long as no one got in his way, he couldn’t care less what anyone else did.
Compared to all that, Ming Rao felt that the bag the tall guy was carrying was the real scourge that needed to be eradicated.
It was a dull earthy yellow, with a semi-transparent rubber jelly-bag section in the middle, surrounded by a stitched ring of linen fabric. It was hard to imagine anyone still designing something like that in this day and age.
Stepping a little closer, Ming Rao noticed that this guy wasn’t just tall his build wasn’t half bad either. The muscles in his arms were solid, clearly the result of training, and even through the fabric of his clothes, you could make out the lean, taut lines beneath.
How could he afford to work out but not to buy a decent bag? Ming Rao shook his head hard internally.
Still, his aesthetic sense had always been fair and impartial ugly bag, harsh judgment; good-looking guy, he’d… reluctantly steal a few more glances!
Over there, Lu Feiyang was making more and more noise. Before Ming Rao even got close, he could hear the guy’s earth-shattering curses.
“What did I say? What did I fucking say! If I hadn’t been sharp enough to have them check the system, they’d have slipped right through. Shifty-eyed bastards, just looking to sneak into our school and steal stuff, huh? Pfft!”
The glasses-wearing guy looked refined, but he had a fiery temper. He swung a fist, only for the tall guy to block it. While the glasses guy was still futilely arguing with the security guard, the tall guy had already turned to leave.
Ming Rao noticed that he happened to be standing right in the sunlight. A leaf drifted down with the wind and landed on his shoulder. He reached up and brushed it off, and Ming Rao could almost hear the sound of the leaf falling “shhh”
Almost without thinking, he raised the mirrorless camera hanging around his chest and aimed the lens toward the sunlight.
“Click”
With a blinding flash, several pairs of eyes snapped toward him.
Shit, Ming Rao froze.
The glasses guy furrowed his brows slightly and walked straight over to Ming Rao. “What the hell are you doing? What are you taking pictures of?”
He grabbed Ming Rao by the collar, and in the shoving and jostling, the camera clattered to the ground.
Ming Rao had a weak constitution he knew full well he couldn’t win a fight against anyone. But he was also not the type to be pushed around.
He picked up the camera, straightened his clothes in a couple of quick motions, raised an eyebrow, and said unhurriedly, “I’m taking pictures of some random scumbags trying to sneak into campus with fake IDs. Is there a problem? If I don’t, you’ll be back tomorrow, and how are we students supposed to feel safe?”
“Delete it right now, or I’ll beat you to death!!”
“Zhihao,” the tall guy said, restraining him from the side. “Forget it.”
“This pretty boy took pictures of us!”
Ming Rao’s eyes went wide. “Who are you calling a pretty boy?”
The tall guy held the glasses guy firmly in place. His voice was steady, carrying a reassuring calm. “It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”
The next moment, he turned his head and shot Ming Rao a look full of contempt.
That single look stunned Ming Rao speechless.
He couldn’t believe it. He’d been the center of attention his whole life, never once looked at like he was garbage. A surge of heat rushed through him. “Stop right there.”
The two of them acted like they hadn’t heard him, walking off side by side. Ming Rao hurried after them and grabbed the tall guy’s clothes. “I said stop.”
Up close, Ming Rao realized he had to tilt his head slightly to meet the man’s eyes, which deflated him a bit. He steadied himself and said, “Who said you could leave? You broke my lens, what do you have to say about that?”
The tall guy walked toward Ming Rao with unhurried ease, his eyes carrying a calm, unassuming composure. “How much? I’ll pay for it.”
Ming Rao let out a cold laugh, puffing himself up with arrogance. “You couldn’t afford it even if you sold yourself.”
The tall guy pulled out a wallet that was even uglier than the bag truly outdoing its predecessor and fished out a wad of old, dirty bills. “Is this enough?”
Ming Rao snorted and shook his head. The glasses guy beside him stomped his foot in panic. “Brother Chuan. if you give him the money, how are we supposed to get by.”
As the tall guy kept pulling out money, Ming Rao kept saying it wasn’t enough. And heaven as his witness, he wasn’t trying to extort anyone the price of that lens really was more than the guy could cover even if he sold himself, bag and all. But hearing the glasses guy wailing that it was all their savings, Ming Rao couldn’t help but feel a twinge of doubt.
Really? Are they really that broke?
If he made them hand over every last cent of their living expenses, Ming Rao would feel a bit guilty. Besides, he’d just said it offhand he hadn’t even checked whether the lens was actually broken.
In the end, Ming Rao didn’t want to make things hard for them. He waved a hand dismissively. “Forget it, forget it. I don’t want your money. It’s filthy don’t go passing some disease on to me.”
But the tall guy walked straight up to him, seized his right wrist, and wrapped his other hand around Ming Rao’s entire hand.
The moment that broad palm covered his, Ming Rao felt an intense pressure, making him restless and hot under the collar.
What the hell is this? Is this even a human hand?
Rough as sandpaper, covered in calluses, digging into his palm hard enough to hurt.
He instinctively tried to pull away, but the other side tightened its grip, shoving the money into Ming Rao’s palm. Then, as if deliberately getting back at him for the “filthy” comment, he held Ming Rao’s hand for a long time without letting go, his eyes boring into Ming Rao’s face.
It was that look again the one that said Ming Rao was garbage!
Ming Rao was so furious that his face turned red and he completely lost his composure, shouting at their retreating backs: “What about those fake IDs of yours? Hand them over!”
Before solemnly handing the fake IDs over to the security guard for destruction, he couldn’t help but glance at them.
That hot-tempered glasses-wearing guy was called Lin Zhihao.
And that tall guy with the atrocious fashion sense was called Yan Yuchuan.
Port Harbor University was located in a bustling area, and even during the holidays, the nightlife remained as noisy and dazzling as ever.
Thanks to his astonishing powers of persuasion, Lu Feiyang managed to rally an entire football team’s worth of friends to hit the bar with him, even during a summer break when everyone was supposed to be going home to their families.
The bar owner, surnamed Meng, was an old acquaintance of Lu Feiyang’s. In Port Harbor’s intricate social circle, the fact that Boss Meng’s bar had managed to stay afloat was largely thanks to Lu Feiyang’s patronage. As such, he was always extremely obsequious toward Lu Feiyang, terrified of any perceived slight.
When their group arrived at the bar entrance that evening, Boss Meng was already waiting respectfully. He personally escorted them to a luxurious booth near the dance floor.
The moment they stepped through the bar’s doors, the cacophonous drumbeats surged in like a tidal wave, mixed with the scent of sweat and hot breath, nearly suffocating Ming Rao.
He had never liked places like this. The intermingling smells of smoke, alcohol, and sweat were a tremendous irritation to his already delicate stomach. From the entrance to the dance floor, Ming Rao nearly gagged the whole way.
No sooner had Lu Feiyang sat down than he launched into a tearful tirade, bitterly denouncing his senile, addled father to everyone at the table.
Ming Rao listened with one ear and let it out the other, resting his head on his arm, listlessly fiddling with the little paper umbrella in his cocktail glass.
After a few drinks, Lu Feiyang’s mood visibly improved. His gaze wandered over the bobbing heads on the dance floor. Boss Meng was busy attending to business, but as he passed their table, Lu Feiyang called him over.
“Old Meng, why isn’t anyone dancing today?”
Boss Meng stopped in his tracks, a smile immediately spreading across his face: “Young Master Lu, the person we had dancing here before was a college student. She’s gone back to her hometown for summer break, so we haven’t arranged anyone.”
Lu Feiyang’s face darkened: “So just because it’s break, you stop doing business?”
“It’s not, not that, you know how it is. Most of the people working here are students. Now that it’s break, it’s hard for us to find anyone.”
Lu Feiyang downed a glass in one gulp, slamming it onto the table with a bang, his expression growing even uglier. Every “break” that came out of Boss Meng’s mouth was like salt rubbed into his wounds. The mood that had finally improved was now plummeting back to rock bottom.
Boss Meng watched his face cycle through shades of green and white, his heart trembling with fear. He quickly tried to salvage the situation: “If Young Master Lu wants to see someone dance, that’s easy. I’ll arrange it right away. Hey, Xiao Zhang, didn’t you used to work at a dance hall? Ask them to send someone over. Make sure it’s a real beauty with a great figure. Money’s no object!”
“No need for all that trouble,” Lu Feiyang cut him off, tilting his chin toward the bar. “What about her? Can she dance?”
Ming Rao, who had been slumped listlessly over the table, raised his eyes at the sound of this. He saw a girl wearing glasses standing at the bar, looking quite refined and bookish, wiping down glasses.
“Oh, that’s our new server who started a few days ago,” Boss Meng bellowed across the bar: “Hey, the one with glasses, yes you, come over here.”
The girl hesitated for a moment, then set down her glass and walked over to the luxurious booth.
Lu Feiyang looked the girl up and down, and when he got a clear look at her face, he furrowed his brow thoughtfully: “Why do you look kind of familiar? Are you sure she’s new?”
Ming Rao lifted his head from the table and took a cursory look. He, too, felt a strange sense of familiarity.
Boss Meng said: “She’s new. We never had anyone with glasses here before.”
“That’s true, I suppose.”
Lu Feiyang regarded the girl with interest. Her demure, bespectacled appearance was completely out of place in this bar of wine, women, and song, yet it held a peculiar allure.
Boss Meng had always been adept at reading people. The moment Lu Feiyang’s eyes flickered, he understood immediately. He hastily nudged the girl with his elbow. “Go on, tell Young Master Lu here what your name is.”
The girl kept her head down and said in a small voice: “Lin… Lin Zhimiao.”
Boss Meng asked: “Can you dance?”
Lin Zhimiao froze: “N-no, I can’t.”
Boss Meng’s expression changed drastically in an instant. He was about to lay into Lin Zhimiao when Lu Feiyang spoke up first: “That’s fine, not knowing how to dance is perfectly normal. Everyone learns gradually.”
With that, Lu Feiyang turned back to Lin Zhimiao, a smirk curling at one corner of his mouth: “Miaomiao, today’s your lucky day. I’ll personally teach you how to dance. What do you say?”
“I.”
Before Lin Zhimiao could answer, Lu Feiyang’s arm was already reaching out eagerly.
As his hand was about to land on the girl’s waist, Ming Rao frowned involuntarily, wondering whether he should do something like knocking over a drink to divert his attention.
Before he could even make a move, Lu Feiyang’s wrist was firmly seized by a large hand with distinct knuckles and veins like twisting vines.
“Sorry, she doesn’t dance.”
The voice wasn’t loud, but it was steady and forceful, unforgettable to the ear.
Yan Yuchuan wore the bartender’s uniform, his jacket buttoned meticulously up to his neck, his narrow eyes looking down with a condescending glare, full of warning.