Chapter 43 Part 1

Lu Wen slept until dark. It was a very sound sleep. Midway, Sister Lingling came in quietly to tuck him in. Afraid he would be hungry when he woke up, she had already prepared tea and snacks and placed them on the bedside table.

He turned over, leaning against the tall, soft headboard. His bathrobe had slipped open, revealing his chest and abdomen.

Lu Wen took out his phone and opened the four-person WeChat group chat. Everyone was busy at the end of the year, so the group had been quiet lately. He decided to first test the loyalty of a friendship that hadn't been seen in months.

Lu Wen: Bros, I'm done filming in Chongqing!

In less than half a minute, Gu Zhuoyan was the first to pop up, replying: Send me your flight information.

Lu Wen: To pick me up from the airport?

Gu Zhuoyan: Duh, just hurry up and send it.

Lian Yiming also popped up. As the young master of a high-end hotel, he had been providing them with a place to hang out since junior high. He asked: Let's meet at my place, or should we go to someone's house?

Gu Zhuoyan: Let's go to your place for drinks.

Lian Yiming: Plenty of drinks. I'll have the restaurant prepare the ingredients in advance.

Gu Zhuoyan: Ming-zi, are you going to the airport pickup?

Lian Yiming: Of course.

The screen scrolled up with their conversation. Lu Wen was quite moved, but Su Wang still hadn't surfaced. Ever since that night of "cutting ties," Su Wang had ignored him for several months.

Lu Wen typed: Wang, are you there?

Lian Yiming: Dude, say something.

Gu Zhuoyan: @Su Wang, what's up?

Under the unified call of the three, Su Wang reluctantly joined the group chat, replying coolly and rationally: Uncle Lu hasn't seen his son in months, does he still need you guys to pick him up?

Lu Wen seized the opportunity to make peace: Among the four of us, you're the smartest.

Su Wang: So you chose me to be your girlfriend?

Gu Zhuoyan: Oh?

Lian Yiming: You two, hold on a minute.

Gu Zhuoyan: When did you turn gay?

Lian Yiming: How sudden.

Lu Wen couldn't handle three people talking at once and typed a long sentence: It's all a misunderstanding! I'm already back today. Let's talk face-to-face at the Sofitel tomorrow night. Be there or be square!

His stomach rumbled. Lu Wen picked up the snacks and got out of bed, heading to the dining room to have a bowl of soup with them. Lu Zhanqing had gone to the company in the afternoon for a social engagement and hadn't returned yet.

Sister Lingling was ever the worrier: "Xiao Wen, play on your phone after you finish eating."

"You don't get it," Lu Wen said, swiping the screen. "Playing on my phone while eating can enhance the flavor."

Sister Lingling prepared some fruit for him and said: "Go check out the place at Zishan tomorrow. The water, electricity, and internet are all installed. Small appliances like the coffee machine and aromatherapy diffuser are there too, and the daily necessities have been bought."

Lu Wen wasn't listening carefully: "Just tell me what's missing."

"Nothing should be missing," Sister Lingling said proudly. "I personally made a list and bought everything you could possibly need for daily life. The floral arrangements need to be fresh, so tell me which day you're moving in, and I'll order them for you then."

The words went in one ear and out the other for Lu Wen. His full attention was on his phone. He logged into QQ and sent a message to Socially Anxious Little Writer.

Unlucky Little Singer: Good evening, have you eaten?

Lu Wen knew the other person was slow to reply. Every second he waited for a response, he would recall the way Qu Yanting answered the phone. He was exceptionally patient. He finished chewing two cream tarts, wiped his hands, and then opened the chat again.

Socially Anxious Little Writer: Not yet, working overtime.

Unlucky Little Singer: Working so hard, you'll definitely get rich.

Socially Anxious Little Writer: I'll take your good wishes.

Unlucky Little Singer: I'm not doing much, taking a rest these two days. If you want to chat, just message me.

Socially Anxious Little Writer: Okay, thank you.

After hitting send, Qu Yanting glanced at the date displayed on his computer screen. It was Friday. He had been so busy he'd gotten through the week without even realizing it.

It was getting late. Qu Yanting was too tired to drive, so he decided to spend the night at the studio. He checked the surveillance camera at home—there was enough food and water. He remotely turned on a small wall lamp for Commander Huang.

It drizzled a bit after midnight, but it was almost dry by dawn. Qu Yanting took a shower, finished all the final touches on the script, then locked the door and left in the afternoon to meet Wang Mingyu.

On the way, he passed a department store. Not wanting to show up empty-handed, Qu Yanting went in and bought a small gift. It was dusk when he arrived at Zishan Grand Residences. He slowed down outside Gate 1. From the height of his SUV, he could see a squat little supercar blocking the way ahead.

His phone lit up. Wang Mingyu had sent a message asking how much longer he would be.

Qu Yanting was a bit annoyed. After replying, he tossed his phone onto the center console with a thud. The supercar finally moved, driving in turn down Willow Embankment.

The sports car, with its red body and black top, was going only slightly faster than an electric scooter. Unfortunately, this loop was a narrow one-way road. Qu Yanting was stuck behind it, unable to pass or turn off. He honked his horn several times.

The supercar driver seemed to get the hint, accelerating and immediately pulling away. Qu Yanting, rarely impatient, stepped on the gas to follow, gradually closing the distance.

Nearing Gate 2 of the villa complex, the supercar suddenly slowed down.

Qu Yanting slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. He crashed into it with a bang.

It wasn't a hard impact, just enough to make the supercar jolt. His palms began to sweat. One, he was worried about the driver's safety, and two, he would have to deal with a dispute with a stranger. His heart sank.

Taking a deep breath, Qu Yanting opened the door and got out.

"Fuck..."

Lu Wen lifted his head from the steering wheel, clutching his high-bridged nose, afraid it had been broken. He wasn't familiar with the roads, so he was naturally driving a bit slowly while looking around, but was that enough to get rear-ended?

Rubbing his nose with his right hand, he forcefully pushed the door open with his left. Lu Wen swung his long legs out of the car, ready to see just who the driver responsible was.

He spun around aggressively, then froze.

A few steps away, Qu Yanting was paused at the rear of the car, the sky behind him filled with a fiery sunset.

The two of them hadn't seen each other in months. Neither could have predicted they would reunite in such a way. They both stared blankly at each other until Lu Wen's arm grew sore, and he lowered his right hand from his face.

Qu Yanting immediately rushed over: "You have a bloody nose!"

Lu Wen let out an "Ah," and the tip of his nose was covered by Qu Yanting's handkerchief. The soft cotton cloth carried a faint, clean scent of soapberry amidst the smell of blood. He raised his hand again, but this time, he covered the hand that Qu Yanting was pressing against him.

Lu Wen's lips moved, and he called out in a muffled voice: "Teacher Qu."

"Is it serious?" Qu Yanting asked worriedly. "Do we need to go to the hospital?"

Lu Wen subtly bent down, as if afraid Qu Yanting's hand would get tired, bringing his face a little closer. After a moment, he gripped Qu Yanting's wrist and slowly moved his hand away. The bleeding had stopped.

Qu Yanting asked: "Does it hurt?"

"Extremely painful," Lu Wen feigned, but as soon as he said it, he couldn't help but break into a wide grin. The surprise of seeing him returned. "Teacher Qu, I really didn't expect to meet you."

The situation was part coincidence, part comedy. Qu Yanting also began to smile. "What day did you get back?"

"Yesterday morning." Lu Wen gestured with his thumb toward Gate 2 behind him. "I'm moving in soon. Just taking a look around today."

Qu Yanting was surprised. "You're moving into Zishan?"

Lu Wen nodded and asked expectantly, "Do you live here too?"

"No, I'm visiting a friend," Qu Yanting replied. "Actually, it's my master's home."

Lu Wen knew he meant Zeng Zhen and Wang Mingyu. He thought he would be thrilled at the prospect of being neighbors with a famous director and a golden screenwriter, but upon confirming that Qu Yanting didn't live here, he seemed to feel more disappointed.

Since the two cars were blocking the road, they drove into the complex first. Lu Wen told Qu Yanting his house number, said he was fine, and told Qu Yanting to go to his appointment and come find him afterward.

A quarter of an hour late, Qu Yanting didn't explain to Wang Mingyu, only apologized.

The housekeeper had gone home for the New Year, and Zeng Zhen was on set. The entire villa was empty. Wang Mingyu hadn't eaten dinner yet and was unwrapping the gift Qu Yanting had bought at the dining table.

In the open-plan kitchen, Qu Yanting skillfully took a box of wontons from the fridge and asked, "Teacher, how many would you like?"

Wang Mingyu said: "Ten. Add chopped green onions."

He put a small pot on to boil. Qu Yanting chopped green onions and pickled greens, prepared the soup base, and after bringing a steaming bowl to Wang Mingyu's table, he went to boil water for tea.

"Yanting," Wang Mingyu began, "What do you think of the script?"

Qu Yanting used a small pair of tongs to fiddle with the tea leaves in the caddy, answering with false modesty and tact: "It could be improved."

Wang Mingyu laughed. "You mean, it's trash that needs to be recycled."

Qu Yanting's lips twitched slightly. He neither admitted nor denied it. For Wang Mingyu to say that meant she understood the script's value. He just had to quietly wait for what she would say next.

After a couple of sips of hot soup, Wang Mingyu said: "This bowl of wontons would sell for a dozen or so yuan at a breakfast shop, but at a big hotel, the price would double."

Qu Yanting closed the tea caddy, pressing the tin lid down firmly until it sealed. He had nothing to add. He poured hot water into the teapot, and over the sound of the flowing water, he squeezed out an indistinct "Mhm" in agreement.