He Wenqi proactively asked for a blind date, and on the other end, Qiao Yuan’s phone almost slipped to the floor.
With his superior looks, He Wenqi was usually the one doing the picking; it was rarely the other way around.
When Qiao Yuan had mentioned introducing someone earlier, it was because the other party wanted to meet him.
The person was a dentist named Gu Han, who owned his own clinic. He was well-off, decent, and Qiao Yuan had met him while getting his teeth checked.
Being enthusiastic and outgoing, Qiao Yuan had pried into the man’s basic situation within a few minutes. As it turned out, the man wasn’t interested in him, but rather took a liking to He Wenqi, who had accompanied him.
The dentist was reserved and hadn’t felt comfortable saying it directly. Qiao Yuan saw the signs and proactively tried to be the matchmaker. At the time, He Wenqi’s mind wasn’t on such things at all, and he refused without a thought.
Remembering it now, his impression of that one-time encounter with the dentist was actually quite good.
Since there were no other reliable people around anyway, he could try getting in touch first.
Before finishing work the next day, Qiao Yuan sent a reply: the other party was still single and very willing to get to know him better.
A moment later, a friend request popped up.
He Wenqi clicked accept.
Gu Han: Hello, I’m Gu Han.
A standard, proper greeting—steady.
As I Have Heard: Hello, Dr. Gu.
Gu Han: Just call me Gu Han. Are you free tonight? If it’s convenient, I’d like to invite you to dinner.
As I Have Heard: I can, but I’m afraid it will be a bit late.
He Wenqi looked at the large stack of documents on his desk, feeling slightly anxious.
He didn’t know what nerve Han Ji was twitching again, but near the end of the day, he suddenly dropped a pile of files over, saying they were previous client proposals that needed to be categorized and organized. He also demanded a specialized electronic document to be finished tonight.
These were all past files; even if they needed organizing, there was no need for such a rush, surely?
Initially, to keep up the pace, He Wenqi only glanced at the cover pages, putting same-type proposals together to make the electronic filing easier later. But then, he unconsciously flipped a few pages further and was suddenly captivated by a proposal, reading it seriously without realizing it.
Only then did he notice that although these were past proposals, they served as excellent successful case references. For someone like him who had never participated in large-scale corporate projects, this was essentially accessible “on-paper” experience.
Now, He Wenqi pulled out the ones he had already organized and began reading them one by one—different types of companies, specific design requirements, and the final completed cases.
As a result, by the time work ended, his progress on the actual organizing was zero.
He was destined for overtime.
Getting up to stretch his back, He Wenqi first went to the restroom. Just as he entered a stall and closed the door, he heard Wang Dao and several colleagues walk in, loudly discussing something.
“Next week Hishi premieres, everyone go show some support!” Wang Dao’s voice was booming.
“What movie? The promotion doesn’t seem that hot.”
“National style (Guofeng). Don’t you guys pay attention?”
“Small-budget production, right? No buzz at all.”
“You only know how a movie is after watching it, but for the sake of my idol’s promotional art, I have to buy a ticket.” It was Wang Dao again. “Look, this style, this lighting, this color palette…”
“Let me see. This art is indeed good.”
“The composition isn’t very meticulous.”
“What do you know? This is his style—form within the formless.”
“Let me see… ‘Hua Wuque’ (The Flawless Flower). Hey, I know him. I even follow his Weibo. A very individualistic artist, very unique style, seems pretty low-profile. What, is he the lead artist for the movie?”
“No, but he did the promotional posters.”
“Tsk, then what’s there to brag about.”
The group made a ruckus coming in and left just as noisily.
He Wenqi waited until they had all dispersed before opening the door, slowly turning on the faucet to wash his hands. His hands were also thin, with slender, well-proportioned fingers. Other than holding a paintbrush, it seemed nothing else suited them.
Turning to leave the restroom, most of the company colleagues had already gone.
“He Wenqi, work’s over, not leaving?” Ling Chen swung his bag over one shoulder and came around.
“Can’t leave yet; it’ll be a while.”
Ling Chen pursed his lips, throwing him a look of deep sympathy: “The big tiger eats people without spitting out the bones.”
He Wenqi smiled helplessly.
While they were talking, Fang Zhenkang passed by carrying a cardboard box and stopped beside them. He had already submitted his resignation, which Han Ji approved very quickly; today was his last day at the company.
“Little He,” Fang Zhenkang tugged at his bruised lip—not sure if he’d tripped or been hit—it was likely painful or perhaps he was full of resentment, as his smile was distorted. “You’ve got means; I underestimated you.”
“Manager Fang, He Wenqi isn’t that kind of person. There must be a misunderstanding.” Ling Chen stepped forward to explain, but He Wenqi reached out to hold him back.
Ling Chen looked back at him, puzzled.
He Wenqi was taller and thinner than him, standing ramrod straight: “There is a misunderstanding, but I don’t think Manager Fang needs to hear an explanation.”
Fang Zhenkang gave a “Hmph.” The hair gel on his head hadn’t held tight, and two strands of hair dangled in front of his rimless glasses. He sneered, “Little He, I wish you a bright future.”
“No, Manager Fang…” Ling Chen still wanted to speak but was pulled back again by He Wenqi’s grip on his clothes.
Fang Zhenkang smoothed his dangling hair back and left carrying his box.
“Why didn’t you explain?” Ling Chen turned to ask.
“No need.”
“No need? His wife made such a scene, the whole company knows. They all think you… you’re that…”
“You said it yourself—the whole company knows. So what use is explaining to Fang Zhenkang? Besides, he’s already left. A straight pole casts no crooked shadow; the innocent remain innocent.”
Ling Chen sighed, feeling the injustice on his behalf.
“Alright, just go home yourself.” He Wenqi lightly patted Ling Chen’s stomach with the back of his hand.
Ling Chen dodged backward, then stepped forward to hook his arm around He Wenqi’s shoulder, swaying back and forth a few times.
It was just ordinary playfulness between young people, but it was being watched by a rather displeased gaze from the third floor.
An icy voice dropped like a thunderclap onto the crown of Ling Chen’s head: “Ling Chen, if you’re not in a hurry to leave, come to my office for a moment.”
Being called out by the CEO out of nowhere at this hour made every hair on Ling Chen’s body stand up. I’m doomed, definitely nothing good.
Sure enough, a moment later he came out of the office dejectedly. Passing by the assistant workstation, he rested his head on the partition with a miserable face: “He Wenqi, I’m doing overtime with you.”
He Wenqi wanted to laugh: “What did the big tiger do to you?”
Ling Chen: “The line art our group leader submitted—he wants me to change it according to what he said.”
“Why didn’t he go to your group leader directly?”
“How should I know? I wouldn’t dare ask.”
“I’ve called your group leader; is there any other problem?” Han Ji opened the door and stepped out.
Unable to talk behind his back, Ling Chen quickly picked up his feet and slipped downstairs.
Han Ji walked to He Wenqi’s workstation, looking at the messy pile of documents on the desk. He pressed his eyebrows together: “What’s going on? You’ve been organizing for so long and there’s no progress? Do you plan to pull an all-nighter?”
He Wenqi pulled one out to show him: “I found that every single one is a great learning case.”
Han Ji took it and scanned it: “In that case, take them home and look through them slowly. Give them back to me once you’ve finished reading and organizing.”
“You’re not in a rush?”
“Not in a rush.”
Then why did you say you wanted them by tomorrow earlier?
Since he could leave early, He Wenqi packed up all the documents, intending to get off work immediately.
Han Ji glanced at him: “Something to do?”
“Mmh, I have an appointment for dinner.”
“Boyfriend?”
He Wenqi froze.
The speaker was casual, but the listener was attentive; he hadn’t expected Han Ji to take that matter to heart.
So he went along with Han Ji’s words: “Ah, yes.”
Han Ji didn’t show any further reaction. He closed his door and went back into his office.
He Wenqi carried the documents downstairs, planning to go home first to drop them off before calling Gu Han; the dinner time they had agreed upon earlier could be moved up.
Today was Friday, and since he was carrying all these things, he didn’t plan to squeeze onto the bus or subway. He pulled out a ride-hailing app, but all of them were overloaded with orders.
No choice but to wait.
He might as well take the opportunity to ask Gu Han.
As I Have Heard: Are you off work?
Gu Han: I can leave anytime. Waiting for you.
As I Have Heard: Dinner time can be moved up; I brought my work home.
Gu Han: Okay, I’ll come pick you up.
As I Have Heard: No need to trouble yourself. I’ll head home first; send me the address and I’ll take a taxi.
Gu Han: It’s Friday; it might be hard to call a car. I’ll still come pick you up, is that convenient?
He Wenqi took another look at the 35 taxi orders ahead of him on the phone. Fine, I’d be waiting anyway.
Twenty minutes later, a midnight blue luxury sedan pulled up to the entrance of the Business Center Building. Simultaneously, He Wenqi’s phone rang.
He Wenqi: “I see you; I’m walking over.”
Just as he hung up, the driver’s side door opened, and a tall, thin man stepped out. His suit was crisp, and his hairstyle was neat.
He looked around and gave He Wenqi a warm smile. He was a handsome man with an elegant air.
Gu Han walked toward He Wenqi and naturally took the items from his hands.
He Wenqi thanked him, his nose twitching slightly—there was a faint, extremely refined scent of perfume.
He Wenqi had a small quirk: he didn’t like wearing perfume himself, but he liked it on others. In particular, he liked using his own preference for scents to differentiate his attitude and impression of a person.
For example, encountering Gu Han now, the scent of the perfume on him didn’t repel him.
“Home first?” Gu Han’s voice was magnetic but not deep.
“Since you’re here, let’s go eat first.” He Wenqi didn’t feel any awkwardness in their first interaction. “I didn’t expect you to arrive so quickly; there should be a lot of traffic today, right?”
Gu Han smiled and didn’t answer. He put the documents in the back seat and turned to open the passenger door for He Wenqi.
In truth, he had been on the road before He Wenqi got off work. He had asked Qiao Yuan for the company name, intending to wait nearby.
“Thank you,” He Wenqi said.
Gu Han also got into the car: “Is Japanese food okay?”
“That works.”
Gu Han spoke into his phone: “Hello, last name Gu. Regarding the previous reservation, we will be arriving two hours early.”
The other party was already prepared. Well, as long as one put in the effort, one could find out his preferences just by asking Qiao Yuan.
He Wenqi’s favorable impression of Gu Han increased another notch.
Gu Han put down his phone and stared at him for a while, as if considering something.
“What’s wrong?” He Wenqi asked, puzzled.
Gu Han raised a hand: “You…”
“Mmh?” He Wenqi didn’t understand.
Gu Han suddenly leaned over, his left hand reaching toward He Wenqi’s neck as his body pressed closer.
He Wenqi reflexively pressed his back against the seat, his muscles suddenly tightening uncomfortably.
The other man’s hand reached past his neck, pulled out the seatbelt, and buckled it for him.
The breath held in his throat was quietly exhaled, and he sat up straight again.
“Are you nervous?” Gu Han asked with a smile.
“No.”
“Really? It seems I gave you pressure. Actually, I’m an easygoing person; maybe the smell of disinfectant on me is too strong.” Gu Han teased, wanting to lighten the atmosphere.
He Wenqi gave a cooperative smile.
Beep— Beep-beep—
A car behind them honked.
“Looks like we’re blocking the way.” Gu Han started the car.
From the rearview mirror, He Wenqi caught a glimpse of Han Ji’s new car. Just like the man himself, it was low-profile yet possessed a pressure that couldn’t be ignored.
“What’s wrong, someone you know?” Gu Han turned the steering wheel, noticing out of the corner of his eye that He Wenqi kept watching the car in the mirror.
He Wenqi withdrew his gaze, gave a silent smile, and remained noncommittal.
…
Gu Han had indeed prepared very well. The Japanese restaurant he took He Wenqi to was located on a very inconspicuous street, avoiding the peak-hour congestion—like a piece of pure land hidden within the bustle.
It is said that one can see a person’s taste and status from their choice of a Japanese restaurant.
Japanese sashimi emphasizes the selection of ingredients. General mass-market shops cannot satisfy this point because the costs are high; if the price is set too high, ordinary people won’t accept it, and besides, the general public isn’t that particular about taste.
So generally, people who truly eat Japanese food will choose small, private shops, either opened by friends or where they’ve bonded with the chef.
Ingredients are also pre-ordered, flown in from the sea in the morning, so they are still extremely fresh when they enter the mouth.
Gu Han pushed the sashimi platter toward He Wenqi: “I didn’t prepare in advance, so we just have to eat whatever is available. I didn’t know which kind you like, so try them all?”
He Wenqi rarely ate Japanese food, but he liked it.
He picked up a piece of fish sashimi; it was cool and fresh-sweet, far more delicious than what he usually ate.
He Wenqi’s eyes lit up.
Gu Han keenly noticed his expression and gave a faint smile.
“Would you like some sake? Or champagne?” Gu Han asked thoughtfully.
“I won’t drink. I still have things to do when I get back.”
“Then just a sip of white wine. It’s the owner’s special brew here; it makes the taste better when paired, and the alcohol content isn’t high.” While speaking, Gu Han snapped his fingers for the waiter to bring it.
He Wenqi took a sip. The sour-astringency stimulated his throat; he couldn’t suppress it for a moment and began to cough.
“Are you okay?” Gu Han hurried to hand him a cup of tea.
He Wenqi took it, didn’t drink, and put it down, instead picking up the tea to his own right and taking a sip.
“Sorry, I took the wrong one.” Gu Han was anxious and had given him his own tea.
He Wenqi couldn’t speak and just waved his hand.
…
After dinner, Gu Han drove him home.
The two talked quite pleasantly during their first meeting. He Wenqi had a good impression of Gu Han; the other party spoke well, respected his opinions at every turn, and was a person with a sense of boundaries and good breeding.
Maybe I can consider continuing to see him, he thought to himself.
Upon arriving at the residential complex gate, Gu Han parked and turned off the engine.
Behind them, a car also followed and turned off its glaring headlights; He Wenqi vaguely thought it looked familiar.
“Then I’ll leave you here.” Gu Han brought the documents out from the back seat and handed them back to He Wenqi.
“Thank you for the hospitality today.” He Wenqi took them and turned to walk away.
Gu Han called out to him: “Can I ask you out again next time?”
He Wenqi had already walked forward to the wall near the entrance. Just as he was about to turn back to reply, a dark figure suddenly emerged from the shadows of the corner flowerbed and reached out to grab his arm tightly.
Caught off guard—and with quite a bit of force—He Wenqi tried to break free, and the documents in his hands fell with a clatter.
At the same time, Gu Han rushed to his side.
“What are you doing?”
Two voices rang out simultaneously.
Han Ji had appeared beside him at some point as well, and along with Gu Han, each protected one side of He Wenqi.
The two looked at each other, then simultaneously turned to question the dark figure.
The person wore a black hat and a mask, hidden in the night, a flicker of panic flashing in their eyes.
The four faced each other, none of them seemingly having expected the current situation.
At this very moment, another person rushed out from behind the dark figure, holding something, and threw it right at He Wenqi’s face.
Splash
A pot of cold water came pouring over his head. Han Ji and Gu Han turned their backs at the same time; neither dodged, competing to shield He Wenqi in front of them.