Qin Yinian had barely gotten off the plane when he received a call from his brother. He didn’t know why Qin Wunian was in such a rush, skipping even the time to wait at his home. His car was parked on a quiet street, and he was asked to pick up his two sons from there.
When Qin Yinian arrived, it looked like a secret agent handoff. Drivers on both sides repeatedly checked that no one was nearby. Then, the car door opened on Qin Wunian’s side, and the two boys dashed out like rockets, running toward their father.
A father’s love is steadfast. Qin Yinian stood firmly as the two boys, each about the size of a medium dog, collided with his knees and clung to him one on each side.
Song Cheng watched as little Master Qin swayed but steadied himself, smiled down at the children, and then lifted his head to look at Qin Wunian and Song Cheng across the street.
Qin Wunian was the same as always, bundled up despite the summer heat, wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap. Song Cheng’s protection wasn’t quite as thorough; he wore a similar style of cap, just a different color.
Seeing little Master Qin look up, he even waved at him.
Qin Yinian had seen screenshots and edited videos online. The beauty filters made people appear taller and paler, which looked good on camera but distorted reality.
In person, Song Cheng didn’t look like the edited version, polished and pristine like a model. He had a more rugged kind of handsomeness—not the hormone-driven allure of Qin Wunian, but a polite, reliable charm.
Both sides were busy. After handing over the children, Qin Wunian and Song Cheng got back in their car without speaking a word. Back in his own vehicle, Qin Yinian smiled faintly.
“Now I understand why Qin Wunian didn’t want to tell us sooner. Song Cheng is exactly my mom’s favorite type.”
Uncle Wang, sitting across from him with the twins on his lap, smiled kindly. “What do you mean? Is it bad that Mrs. Lin likes this type?”
Qin Yinian: “Well… it depends. Have you ever watched Planet Earth?”
Uncle Wang looked puzzled, mirroring Song Cheng’s expression back then. “Yes, I have.”
Qin Yinian nodded. “Then you’ve probably seen a giant python in the jungle. When it spots prey, it doesn’t swallow it immediately. Instead, it coils around it, squeezing until it can’t breathe.”
Uncle Wang: “…You’re comparing your mom to a giant python?”
Qin Yinian laughed heartily. “Of course not.”
Hearing that, Uncle Wang chuckled too. “That makes more sense—how could you say something like that?”
But the next second, he heard Qin Yinian add, “My mom isn’t just any python. She’s the queen of pythons. Without my dad, she’d have ruled the entire Amazon by now.”
Uncle Wang: “…………”
At his age, he couldn’t follow the thought processes of these young people. He poked the twins sitting on his lap and, recalling something, asked, “That Song Cheng… have you checked his background?”
Qin Yinian shook his head. “Uncle Wang, what era do you think this is? Qin Wunian can be with whoever he wants. My parents and I would never interfere.”
Uncle Wang: “That’s not what I mean. I’m just worried your brother might be deceived.”
Qin Yinian: “Have you seen Qin Wunian? No scammer could ever fool him.”
Uncle Wang had worked with the Qin family since he was young. He had seen both Qin Yinian and Qin Wunian growing up. In his memory, Qin Wunian’s arrogant, self-important expression hadn’t changed a bit in twenty years.
After a pause, Uncle Wang felt he might be overthinking. He lifted the twins a little higher on his lap and casually said, “Don’t take it the wrong way; it’s an old habit of mine. Song Cheng doesn’t really look like the type to take advantage either. When I first saw him, he seemed… a bit familiar.”
Qin Yinian smiled. “Really? He reminds you of someone?”
Uncle Wang gave a wry smile, feeling a little superstitious about his own thought: “Someone I mentioned before… a sickly kid. Don’t tell your parents—I’m afraid they’d form an opinion about Song Cheng based on this.”
Qin Yinian: “….”
He thought to himself, his parents were far more open-minded than Uncle Wang. A few rumors wouldn’t make them wish harm on someone they weren’t related to, nor would they judge someone merely for resembling another person.
Once the twins were out of the car, the space inside immediately felt much larger. Xiao Zhao drove up front, while Qin Wunian and Song Cheng sat in the back.
They had arranged to meet Han Congzhou at a bar Qin Wunian owned. The bar wasn’t open in the morning, but after a single phone call from Qin Wunian, the doors were opened for them at eight.
Having their own space was convenient. Both people and dogs could enter freely, and the venue was reserved, so there was no worry about disturbing anyone.
Song Cheng unbuckled his seatbelt and paused, looking at Qin Wunian with a hesitant expression. “Are you sure you’re coming in too? I could go in by myself… it would only take ten minutes, I’ll be right back.”
Qin Wunian: “Don’t joke. I’m not letting you walk in alone. Until we see this Han Congzhou, who knows if he’s a friend or a threat.”
Song Cheng fell silent for a moment, then muttered, “If he really is a ghost, we’ll go down in history—the first couple to personally verify a ghost exists. Our names will be in textbooks for thousands of years.”
Qin Wunian: “….”
He cast a long, quiet glance at Song Cheng. No time for jokes now. He just wanted to get in and get out as quickly as possible.
Getting out of the car, Qin Wunian stepped ahead, blocking Song Cheng with an outstretched hand. He entered first. The first-floor hall was empty. The dance floor lights were off, and only a few white spotlights illuminated the bar area.
Han Congzhou sat dramatically at one of the tables, a half-drunk glass of whiskey by his side. His back faced the door. His left hand rested on the table, while his right held a loose red leash connected to a leather collar.
A man in black suit, a black-furred dog, and the bar’s dark brown décor—the scene looked like it could be titled Solitude if photographed.
Han Congzhou heard footsteps behind him but didn’t move. Chengfeng’s ears twitched, but without a command, the dog remained still. One man, one dog, silently waiting for the newcomers to approach.
Qin Wunian frowned and mentally tagged Han Congzhou: “Show-off.”
Song Cheng stood behind him, curiosity practically swallowing him. He edged closer, noticing a half-visible dog ear, and whispered hesitantly, “Chengfeng?”
His voice was barely above a whisper, even Qin Wunian had trouble hearing it. But the moment Chengfeng heard it, he immediately turned, locking onto the visitor—his owner who had abandoned him for nearly a month. With a loud thump, he bolted forward. Han Congzhou, holding the leash, was nearly pulled off his chair.
Ordinary people would have failed spectacularly trying to maintain composure in this situation, but Han Congzhou wasn’t ordinary. He yanked the leash taut and barked, “Chengfeng, sit!”
Reluctantly, Chengfeng sat down, body still tense, letting out soft, whimpering sounds of grievance.
Song Cheng stood stunned for a few moments before approaching the dog. At first he walked normally, then faster and faster, until he was practically running the last few steps.
Reaching Chengfeng, he crouched down. Instantly, the dog placed his paws on him, wildly snuggling, tugging at his clothes, and licking his hands.
Song Cheng couldn’t help laughing at the dog’s enthusiasm. He skillfully petted its head, stroked its fur, and fussed over Chengfeng.
“All right, all right. Sorry for coming so late to get you. Hey, stop licking, don’t bite my clothes!”
Watching Song Cheng laugh, Qin Wunian’s gaze softened. Across the table, Han Congzhou’s eyes were on the same scene.
Releasing the leash, he stood up. Almost as if by instinct, the two men simultaneously turned to look at each other.
Han Congzhou and Qin Wunian were about the same height, similar in age, and even in appearance—both muscular, aggressive-looking handsome men.
The difference between them lay only in temperament—and even then, it was subtle. Qin Wunian leaned toward cold detachment, exuding a certain cultured danger—like a high-IQ criminal. Han Congzhou, on the other hand, gave off an overwhelming sense of pressure, but paradoxically, also a faint sense of security. One could sum him up with a phrase: “Stick with him, and there’s something in it for you.”
…
Qin Wunian narrowed his eyes, sizing up Han Congzhou, who quietly returned the gaze. In each other’s eyes, both saw unmasked hostility.
Han Congzhou didn’t fully understand. He knew why Qin Wunian disliked him, but why did Qin Wunian dislike him back? Come on, he thought he looked harmless, and everyone around him seemed to like him.
…
It had been far too long since they’d last seen each other. Chengfeng, like a perpetual motion machine, was so excited he couldn’t stop. Song Cheng was barely able to keep up. The dog kept leaping at him, prompting Han Congzhou to give a reminder: “Give it a command, and it’ll obey.”
Song Cheng looked up blankly. “How do I give a command?”
Han Congzhou: “….”
After a moment’s pause, he demonstrated: “Chengfeng, stop!”
Chengfeng, previously overexcited, froze instantly. Its eyes subtly shifted upward to Han Congzhou, as if saying, Is that it? No further instructions?
Han Congzhou was very familiar with that look. Over the past month, Chengfeng often shot him the same expression. Even though it obeyed every command, it always seemed to silently disdain him.
Suppressing a surge of irritation, Han Congzhou continued: “Chengfeng, sit!”
“Jump!”
“Lie down!”
Each command was executed immediately. Song Cheng, familiar with dogs, kept up just fine, but Qin Wunian, unused to this level of discipline, stared in astonishment. Then Han Congzhou grabbed a napkin from the table, balled it up, and tossed it to Chengfeng. “Guard it!”
Chengfeng leapt, grabbed the napkin in its mouth, then spat it out in front of itself. Like a mother hen, it pinned the paper with its paws, lying completely still—an immobile statue.
Song Cheng blinked, puzzled. “What… is it doing?”
Han Congzhou smiled faintly. “It thinks the napkin is a dangerous object. Unless you tell it to stop, it’ll guard it indefinitely. Sometimes it gets on my nerves, so I use this trick to get some peace. This dog is smart, but not that smart.”
Song Cheng: “….”
He began to wonder what life Chengfeng had endured at Han Congzhou’s place.
Qin Wunian glanced at the dog, serious, then at Han Congzhou, smiling. “Is it some kind of police dog?”
Han Congzhou met Qin Wunian’s gaze, paused, and said: “A bomb-sniffing dog. It trained for nearly a year but was eventually dropped for failing the program. Later, Song Cheng adopted it.”
Song Cheng was incredulous. “Even that, and it failed?!”
Earlier in the year, Han Congzhou had seen that exact expression on Song Cheng’s face. Even the words matched. Back then, he had been listening; now he was the one explaining.
Helplessly shrugging, he said, “No choice. Chengfeng’s intelligence is just too high. It obeys ordinary commands, but in special circumstances, it resists. That’s not a trait a bomb-sniffing dog should have.”
Song Cheng: “….”
The words sounded familiar, like he had heard them somewhere before. As he wondered where, Qin Wunian asked, “Meaning… like they say online, it runs off when it detects danger?”
Han Congzhou: “Chengfeng is loyal. Its flaw is laziness, plus it likes to find shortcuts. When training is too intense, it collapses. During assessments, it won’t follow prescribed routes, instead taking the fastest path. Trainers knew since it was seven or eight months old that it would fail eventually. A dog that size couldn’t be trained beyond that point—it’s impossible.”
With that mystery solved, new questions arose. Qin Wunian frowned. “How do you know so much?”
Han Congzhou looked at him but stayed silent.
He refused to answer, and Qin Wunian immediately noticed. The previously calm atmosphere shifted. Qin Wunian was not someone to tolerate disrespect; if others were cold to him, he would respond in kind.
When Song Cheng regained focus, he saw the two men locking eyes again, though he couldn’t understand why.
Clearing his throat, he tried to diffuse the tension. “Sit down, both of you. Standing up while talking is exhausting.”
At his words, the sharp edges surrounding both men softened slightly. They moved and sat down.
Qin Wunian naturally sat beside Song Cheng, while Han Congzhou took the seat opposite. Watching the two interact so naturally, so intimately, he made no comment.
Today, besides picking up the dog, Song Cheng also had some questions for Han Congzhou—better asked in person than over the phone.
The first question was the same as before: “Are we friends?”
Han Congzhou didn’t answer immediately. He glanced at Qin Wunian, and meeting his gaze, his eyes became sharper, more aggressive, as if they had a grudge.
Puzzled, Han Congzhou paused, then told Song Cheng: “Sort of.”
Song Cheng’s eyes widened. “Sort of?”
Not exactly a definitive answer.
Han Congzhou nodded. “Being close isn’t limited to friendship. Chengcheng, I’m your senior. Compared to friendship, your connection with me is… more complicated.”
Song Cheng was stunned. “Senior… so you’re a lawyer now?”
Han Congzhou smiled. “No. We graduated from the same university, but I didn’t study law. I’m several cohorts ahead of you, and after graduation, I started my own company in a field unrelated to my major.”
Han Congzhou reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a business card. “Here—this is my current occupation.”
Song Cheng glanced down: Shengquan Security Services Co., Ltd., General Manager, Han Congzhou.
The card was impressive and high-end, with a website listed at the bottom. Han Congzhou interlaced his fingers, sitting with the poise of a CEO. “We handle executive protection, personnel security, system safeguarding, and professional training. We’re developing monitoring, security, and IoT modules. Music festivals, fan meetings, business conferences, large-scale events—we can handle them all. If you ever need anything, just come to me—I’ll give you a discount.”
Song Cheng: “….”
He forced a dry laugh. “I don’t think I’ll need this.”
Han Congzhou: “Keep it anyway, just in case.”
Song Cheng didn’t know what kind of situation would count as “just in case.” Clearly, Qin Wunian needed this more than he did. He glanced at Qin Wunian, who was staring at Han Congzhou.
Suddenly, he asked, “What did you mean by saying you two have a more complicated relationship?”
Han Congzhou lifted his eyelids, glancing indifferently at Qin Wunian. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’ve helped Chengcheng many times. In his eyes, I’m not just a friend—I’m like a brother he never had, maybe even more important than a brother. That’s what Chengcheng himself said. Chengcheng, you remember, right?”
Song Cheng: “….”
Of course he didn’t remember! He had no recollection of ever saying that, but he knew how suggestive it sounded. He quickly turned to Qin Wunian, and immediately saw his expression darken.
Han Congzhou didn’t care what Qin Wunian thought, but Song Cheng did. Seeing Han Congzhou was clearly provoking Qin Wunian a bit on purpose, Song Cheng didn’t want any unpleasant words exchanged, so he tugged Qin Wunian’s hand and whispered, “Take Chengfeng out. Wait in the car—I’ll come out to get you in a bit.”
At first, Qin Wunian insisted on coming, arguing he couldn’t trust Han Congzhou. Now that they had met, although he disliked Han Congzhou even more, he couldn’t deny that Han Congzhou didn’t seem like a bad person.
Still, he didn’t move. Song Cheng tugged him twice more, and seeing the hint in Song Cheng’s eyes, Qin Wunian pursed his lips and finally stood.
He bent down, picked up Chengfeng’s leash. The dog’s eyes followed him but it didn’t move until Song Cheng gave it a command. As they went out, Chengfeng even carried off the paper ball along the way.
…
Once outside, Song Cheng frowned at Han Congzhou. “Why are you treating Qin Wunian like that? He’s my boyfriend—I don’t like your attitude toward him.”
Han Congzhou frowned in return. “He started it. Didn’t you see his expression toward me?”
Song Cheng: “That’s just his natural scowl—it’s like that with everyone!”
Han Congzhou: “….”
Indeed, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Han Congzhou knew the difference—Qin Wunian’s wasn’t just a scowl; he genuinely had an issue with him.
Song Cheng, still somewhat unfamiliar with Han Congzhou, relaxed a bit. “Even though I don’t remember who you are, I can feel that our past connection was very close. I don’t expect you two to become friends, but at least… don’t always give each other the cold shoulder.”
Han Congzhou was reluctant, but he knew Song Cheng was right. He lifted his whiskey to his lips and said, “I never imagined the person you talked about for so long would turn out to be him.”
Song Cheng blinked. “I… used to talk about him to you?”
Han Congzhou: “Not all the time, but I heard you mention things about his past. Every time you did, you could go on for a long while.”
Song Cheng: “Then you know about… us?”
Han Congzhou nodded. “I know. But you never told me who he was. I have to say, your description of him was so filtered, it was like talking about a completely different person.”
Song Cheng smiled awkwardly. “Well, I like him, after all. I thought I hadn’t told anyone anything. Seems like I trusted you—entrusting Chengfeng to you, telling you about our marriage…”
Han Congzhou had just swallowed a sip of whiskey. At that, he almost choked, spitting it out entirely. Song Cheng quickly handed him a napkin. Han Congzhou dabbed his mouth hastily, finally catching his breath. His eyes widened as he looked at Song Cheng. “M-married?! Who married whom?”
Song Cheng blinked. “Me and Qin Wunian… didn’t you say you knew?”
Han Congzhou: “You and Qin Wunian… married?!”
Song Cheng froze. “You didn’t know?”
Han Congzhou: “I—”
He paused, hesitant, then snapped his mouth shut and grew serious. “Who told you this—Qin Wunian?”
Song Cheng felt something was off in his expression. He became cautious, observing Han Congzhou for a moment before saying, “No, I found out myself after I woke up, looking through my things.”
Han Congzhou: “Has anyone touched your stuff?”
Song Cheng: “No… why do you ask?”
Han Congzhou didn’t answer, then asked, “Does Qin Wunian know you were married?”
Song Cheng found the question bizarre. “Of course he knows! Who gets married and doesn’t know it themselves?”
The words struck him. He suddenly remembered Qin Wunian’s reaction a few days ago when he confessed—before the anger, he seemed… slightly unaware.