The New Year was lively, but when it came to actual fun — there wasn’t anything particularly special about it. At least not for Xia Zichen. From the first day to the fifth, Canmo Wuhen was there keeping him company. Chatting, playing the game together… whenever he had QQ open, Canmo Wuhen was likely to appear. Sometimes even when neither of them was saying anything, just seeing his icon lit up meant Xia Zichen wouldn’t feel bored.
On the evening of the fifth, Canmo Wuhen told Xia Zichen he was preparing to head back to China and wouldn’t be online for a few days — just leave a message if anything came up. Xia Zichen was mildly surprised that he was coming back this early. Canmo Wuhen explained that his family still had work to return to and couldn’t afford to be as relaxed as someone on a winter school break. Which made sense — time off always seemed to pass especially fast. In another two days, Xia Yuze would be back at work too.
With Canmo Wuhen offline, there was a persistent hollow feeling, though it wasn’t as overwhelming as it might have been. Jianlang and Baicao Zhe hadn’t come back yet, but whenever Tianfeng Yage’s members ran a dungeon and Chenxi was online, they always called him along. After a while, Xia Zichen himself began to feel more like a Tianfeng Yage member than anything else.
Before he knew it, the eighth day of the new year had arrived. The four of them had arranged to meet up that afternoon, so there was no need to be up at the crack of dawn. Xia Zichen ate something light, got dressed, and headed to the agreed-upon location.
When the four of them got together, it was generally Shen Yicheng who covered the tab, and he who chose the venue. Sometimes Xia Zichen couldn’t even find the place and had to just take a cab. This time, Shen Yicheng had reserved a spot at Linyao Club — something everyone in N City had heard of, firmly in the category of places that announced wealth, which fit Shen Yicheng’s usual style and second-generation rich kid status perfectly.
When Xia Zichen arrived, the other three had only just gotten there themselves. An Jing waved him over. “Little Zhen-zhen, over here.”
Xia Zichen smiled slightly and exchanged New Year’s greetings with the three of them.
“You didn’t go anywhere for the holiday?” Shen Yicheng looked him over.
“No. Where did you end up going?” Xia Zichen looked at Shen Yicheng’s healthy flush — he had clearly had a good break.
“Hong Kong. Nothing particularly exciting.” Shen Yicheng smiled, then pulled a membership card from his wallet and handed it to the receptionist. “A VIP suite, the large one.”
The VIP suites here came in only two sizes — medium and large — there was no small option.
“I apologize — the large VIP suite is fully booked. We only have the medium available. Would that work for you?” The receptionist asked with a warm, polished smile.
Shen Yicheng frowned slightly and glanced back at the other three.
“It’s fine. There are only four of us — we don’t need that much space.” An Jing said, amused. He knew Shen Yicheng liked things on a grand scale, but sometimes it really wasn’t necessary.
“Didn’t expect it to be this packed even on the eighth.” Shen Yicheng smiled, then turned back. “Medium it is then.”
With the room booked, a staff member led the four of them to the elevator and up. Calling this a place for the wealthy wasn’t an exaggeration — the interior design made it immediately clear. Polished marble floors, soft carpeting, ivory white carved stone panels, framed paintings of obvious value… the staff were impeccably trained, combining a sense of respect with warmth that put guests at ease.
The suite door was opened, the lights turned on, and the staff member invited them inside. “The television and karaoke system are ready for you, the menus and wine list are on the table, and please ring for service if you need anything. We hope you have a wonderful time.” A slight bow, a quiet close of the door.
“Yicheng, I’ve noticed your young-master energy is getting stronger.” An Jing said, taking off his coat with a grin.
Shen Yicheng smiled and hung up Xia Zichen’s coat for him. “I’ve been here a few times. It’s a members-only club — no card, no entry. My dad gave me the card before the holiday, so I figured I’d bring you all here.”
“It really is a place for the wealthy.” Tang Hui settled onto the sofa and took in the room.
The suite had everything — a low table for drinks, a large dining table, and beside the sofa, a mahjong table stocked with tiles and several decks of playing cards. Along one wall, a low table held a chessboard and a Go set. By the window, a low bed-desk sat in front of a tatami platform, set with tea things. The decor leaned into soft warm tones, with a private bathroom tucked to one side. The attention to detail gave it a faint residential quality — a skillful blend of home and hotel, adding a layer of refined leisure to what was typically a venue for business entertaining.
“The medium suite is missing a bed compared to the large one, but it’s still great. The sofa and tatami are both good for resting.” Shen Yicheng sat across from Tang Hui and patted the seat beside him, gesturing to Xia Zichen. “Come sit here.”
Xia Zichen sat. The sofa wasn’t that big anyway — it made little difference where you sat. He wasn’t the type to make a fuss about something as trivial as sitting next to Shen Yicheng.
“We should eat something first. I only had a couple of bites this morning.” Shen Yicheng flipped through the menu and hit the service bell.
“Food first — I haven’t eaten anything.” An Jing patted his stomach, picked up the other menu, and accepted the hot water Xia Zichen poured for him to warm his stomach.
After ordering, the four of them moved to the dining table. Tang Hui turned on the TV and put on whatever was on — at this time of year, every channel was running holiday programming, all more or less the same. The food arrived quickly, and over the meal the four of them traded stories about the holiday in a comfortable, scattered way, eating their fill.
Once dinner was cleared — the staff swept the table clean in no time — the four of them relocated to the mahjong table. All four knew how to play, though they’d never sat down at a proper table together before. Playing mahjong over the New Year was considered good luck. Since none of them wanted to play for real money, they used the casino chips the club provided instead. After two rounds, An Jing had come out ahead by the most, while Xia Zichen had roughly broken even.
“You know, over the New Year — this prime time for it — none of your families have arranged any blind dates for you?” An Jing looked around at the other three with raised eyebrows.
Xia Zichen glanced at him and played a tile. “No…”
“You’re still young. No rush.” An Jing drew a tile and considered which one to discard. “What about you two?”
Shen Yicheng claimed An Jing’s discarded tile without committing to an answer. In truth, with Shen Yicheng’s circumstances, blind dates were probably very much a regular occurrence — wealthy families seemed to have a particular fondness for connecting with other wealthy families through marriage.
“Do you?” Tang Hui didn’t answer the question, but turned it back on him.
An Jing gave a reluctant nod. “I’m still figuring out how to get out of it.”
“Might not be the worst thing to go and see. Maybe it’d be a good fit.” Shen Yicheng said.
“I still want to enjoy a few more years. Having a girlfriend always feels like being tied down.” An Jing shrugged. “I don’t want a woman managing my life.”
“That means you haven’t met someone you actually like.” Tang Hui said. “When you do, you’ll be the one chasing her.”
“Please. Spoken like someone with a lot of personal experience.” An Jing pursed his lips.
“It’s just the truth.”
Listening to them talk about blind dates, Xia Zichen felt that particular world was genuinely very far removed from his own reality. His family had no extended relatives to speak of, which meant no one to play matchmaker with him over the holiday. And his father certainly wasn’t going to arrange a blind date with another man on his behalf. When it came to same-sex love, you could only wait and hope — you couldn’t engineer it.
In the middle of all this, Xia Zichen’s phone rang. He checked the screen — it was his father.
“Give me a second.” He set down his tiles and stepped out of the room.
The hallway was considerably quieter compared to the sounds of the TV and mahjong inside.
“Hello? Dad.”
He walked toward the elevator alcove at the corner and answered.
“Mm. Are you coming home after dinner tonight?” Xia Yuze asked.
“Not sure. We just had a big meal — I probably won’t be hungry again tonight.” He checked the time — just past three-thirty in the afternoon.
“Okay. I have overtime tonight — probably won’t be home until around eight. If you get hungry, eat something.”
“Got it, I’ll take care of myself.” Xia Zichen smiled. “Don’t forget to eat your dinner either. Don’t get so busy you miss it.”
“I will. Get back to having fun.”
“Sure.” Xia Zichen hung up and started mentally debating whether to make his father a late-night snack when he got home. Still thinking it through, he heard the elevator in front of him open.
He glanced up out of instinct — and found himself unexpectedly looking at Gu Xu in the elevator.
The other guests on this floor had already stepped out. Gu Xu hadn’t moved, clearly still going up. But seeing Xia Zichen, he smiled faintly — and stepped out of the elevator just as the doors were beginning to close.
“Small world.” Xia Zichen spoke first. It genuinely was coincidence — if he had stayed by the room door to take the call instead of walking here, they might never have crossed paths at all.
“Eating here?” Gu Xu asked quietly.
“Yeah. Came with friends.” Xia Zichen said. Gu Xu’s voice was very pleasant, and it gave him a faint sense of familiarity he couldn’t quite pin down.
“The afternoon tea here is good. You should try it.” The mention of afternoon tea suddenly reminded Xia Zichen — he still hadn’t thanked him. “Oh, right — thank you for the books. And for the cake last time.”
“Did you enjoy them?”
Xia Zichen gave a small nod. Whether the books or the cake, he had genuinely liked both — no reason to pretend otherwise.
“Good.” A warmth threaded through Gu Xu’s voice. “Take your time with the books. No rush to return them.”
“Sure.”
Xia Zichen looked up at Gu Xu. He couldn’t explain it — whether it was the way this person spoke or the feeling he gave off, something about it was consistently familiar to him. A kind of familiarity that felt long-forgotten.
“Something on your mind?” When Xia Zichen’s eyes met his, Gu Xu didn’t look away. He simply looked back, his gaze deep and still as ink.
“Have we met before?” Xia Zichen asked directly, without hesitation. “You give me a very familiar feeling, but I genuinely can’t remember knowing you.”
Gu Xu smiled. The pride in his eyes softened into something gentler. He held Xia Zichen’s gaze for a moment before answering. “You genuinely don’t know me.”
Xia Zichen felt a small wave of relief at that — at least he hadn’t forgotten someone he had actually known.
“But we can get to know each other now.” With that, Gu Xu extended his right hand. “I’m Gu Xu.”
“Xia Zichen.” Xia Zichen reached out and took it. Gu Xu’s grip closed slightly, holding until the warmth from both their hands had mingled together, and then let go.
The gesture didn’t bother Xia Zichen at all.
Gu Xu glanced at the watch on his wrist. “I should head up. Don’t stay out too late — cabs are hard to get around here. And don’t drink. You’re too young.”
“I’m already of legal age.” Xia Zichen responded on instinct, and the moment the words left him, realized he had probably been too familiar in saying it. If anyone else had made that remark, he wouldn’t have acknowledged it at all.
“I know.” Gu Xu smiled and brushed aside the fringe falling across Xia Zichen’s forehead. “Head back in. It’s a little cold out here.”
The air conditioning inside the club was generous, but the hallway was noticeably cooler than the rooms.
“Mm. Goodbye.” Xia Zichen replied.
Even though Gu Xu’s gesture just now had been somewhat ambiguous, there was nothing calculated or unwelcome about it — just a simple, unaffected motion. So he hadn’t pulled away.
Gu Xu stepped back into the elevator. Xia Zichen turned and walked back toward the suite.
The elevator doors closed slowly, separating Gu Xu’s warm gaze and quiet smile from view.