After his falling out with Xiao Qishan at the banquet, he spent his days hanging out at Zhai Zhuangzhi's place.

Xiao Heng pushed open the door to the bar's private room. Zhai Zhuangzhi was playing dice with Qiu Shaofeng and a group of rich kids. The dim room was filled with the thick smell of smoke, which mixed with the chaotic colored lights overhead and washed over him.

This was a bar owned by Zhai Zhuangzhi's family. This particular private room was never booked out; it was their exclusive room.

"Three threes, three threes! Fuck," Zhai Zhuangzhi downed a glass of liquor after losing, then finally looked at the person at the door. "Boss, you're here? Is the kid taken care of?"

Xiao Heng didn't reply. After he sat down, someone next to him immediately handed him a cigarette.

He took it. "Still playing dice?"

Zhai Zhuangzhi: "What do you want to play?"

Xiao Heng leaned back and said, "Let's play something big."

The moment he finished speaking, a cheer went up around them.

As soon as Xiao Heng entered, Zhai Zhuangzhi gave up the center seat—in their small group, which they called the "All-Star Losers," Xiao Heng held an unshakable position. It had nothing to do with family background. If one had to say why, it was probably because even though they were all losers, Xiao Heng was the one with the strongest fighting power among them.

This group of theirs only messed around outside. In front of their old men, they still had to obediently lower their heads.

But Xiao Heng wasn't like that.

Zhai Zhuangzhi caught a glimpse of a constantly flashing phone screen at the corner of the table. "Boss, your phone is ringing."

Xiao Heng hadn't played many rounds before Xiao Qishan's call came. And so, amid the swirling smoke, Xiao Heng half-closed his eyes, raised his hand, and tossed the phone into a glass of liquor.

Soaked in water, the phone quickly went silent.

"Holy crap..."

Zhai Zhuangzhi was speechless with amazement.

After a pause, Zhai Zhuangzhi said again, "Are you really not going to answer? You gave Xiao Qishan the cold shoulder at the banquet the other day. The whole thing's blown up. I heard his face was black the entire night after you left—"

Xiao Heng threw down the remaining cards in his hand, reminding him, "You lost."

Xiao Heng didn't play for long. Although he had ignored Xiao Qishan's call, he still decided to make a trip back. In fact, aside from the time he went back to get his things and got pestered by the child, he hadn't lived in that "home" for a long time. He wasn't going back for any other reason; he just suddenly wanted to see Xiao Qishan's dark expression.

Xiao Qishan's expression was indeed very dark.

As soon as Xiao Heng entered, Xiao Qishan was sitting in the living room. Beside him was his mother, who rarely came back.

Xiao Qishan said angrily, "You still know how to come back?"

Xiao Qishan quickly calmed down, changed the subject, and asked, "You took that child out today?"

While Xiao Qishan spoke, his mother sat beside them, drinking tea.

Xiao Heng said nonchalantly, "Gave him to his mom."

Xiao Qishan's features twisted for two seconds in an expression of extreme disgust. "That prostitute? She's willing to raise a child?"

"What's wrong with a prostitute," Xiao Heng glanced at the woman beside him and said, "A prostitute is still better than some people."

The woman's tea-drinking hand paused, finally showing a slight reaction.

"Is that how you talk to your mother! You turned and left at the banquet. Where does that leave my face and your mother's? Do you know what kind of impact that will have on the company? Do you want everyone to know that the Xiao Family and the Qin Family are just in a business alliance—"

Xiao Qishan's voice grew louder and his words more grating, as if trying to tear apart the impassive face before him. "How many times have I stressed to you that you are just a tool to prove the union of our two families? A tool should do what a tool is supposed to do."

Xiao Heng squeezed the knuckle of his index finger, finding the scene laughable. His father and mother, sitting in front of him.

Telling him: You are just a tool.

A tool.

He suddenly thought of that child.

He wasn't one to meddle in other people's business, but the first time he saw that child, he seemed to see his past self.

Xiao Heng snapped back to reality. Xiao Qishan was pointing at his nose and scolding him, "How have we mistreated you? What more do you want? The food you eat, the clothes you wear, the things you use, which of them aren't—" His words came to an abrupt halt.

All of Xiao Heng's emotions, or rather, the emotions he had been suppressing for years, finally reached their peak.

He was sick of it.

Xiao Qishan saw Xiao Heng throw the car keys he was holding onto the floor. They hit the tiled ground with a crisp sound.

Not just the car keys.

Xiao Heng took off the watch on his wrist, the expensive jacket he was wearing, the wallet full of bank cards... one by one, in front of Xiao Qishan and his so-called mother, he threw down everything on him that he could throw.

It had been an overcast day.

By evening, the first clap of thunder finally sounded.

A few hours later, as the sky gradually darkened, a torrential downpour began.

......

"Yan! Bring in the clothes, bring in the clothes, bring in the clothes!!"

Brother Wei was drenched silly by the storm. He yelled to the neighbors while collecting the clothes, "It's raining!"

"Anyone else drying clothes on the rooftop? Whose is this floral quilt with the northeastern flair—"

There wasn't much extra space in the low-rent apartments, so everyone usually set up a simple drying rack on the rooftop to dry their clothes.

Zhang Xiaohui ran up to the rooftop in his slippers, clattering along, and cried out miserably, "Mine, mine! My quilt!"

Lu Yan went up to the rooftop holding an umbrella. Watching the two people exposed to the pouring rain, he felt their train of thought was a bit off. "Why aren't you two using an umbrella?"

Only then did Brother Wei and Zhang Xiaohui realize they had rushed out in such a hurry that they'd forgotten to grab an umbrella.

The moment Lu Yan finished speaking, his umbrella started moving out of his control, tilting to the side.

Brother Wei and Zhang Xiaohui grabbed Lu Yan's umbrella, forcibly pulling it towards them. A large part of Lu Yan's shoulder was instantly soaked. The two of them were even shouting, "Fuck, we forgot. Give us some cover."

Lu Yan: "...Can you two have some shame?"

There weren't many fools who would dry things on an overcast day. In the entire building, it was just the three of them.

Lu Yan pulled the eighty-percent-damp clothes off the rack. As he was about to go downstairs, he vaguely saw a figure in the dim, unclear light on the steps of the half-demolished flowerbed downstairs.

He took another careful look and realized it wasn't an illusion.

There really was someone downstairs.

And it was a man.

Even though the man was sitting on the steps, Lu Yan could still recognize a trace of a familiar aura from the blurry figure—the young master?

Brother Wei nudged him. "What are you staring at? We've collected everything. Aren't you going?"

Lu Yan said, "Bro, help me take the clothes."

Lu Yan went downstairs. He pushed open the entrance door that had just been repaired a few days ago.

Not far away, the person was sitting on the steps, completely soaked by the torrential rain. He still had the injuries from the fight with the loan sharks the day before yesterday. The wound at the corner of his mouth had just scabbed over, and his hair was plastered wretchedly to his cheeks.

Lu Yan walked up to him with the umbrella, unable to figure out why this young master was here.

He called out hesitantly, "Xiao Heng?"

The man's lowered head lifted, and Lu Yan met Xiao Heng's eyes in the middle of the raging, rainy night.