He Xiaoyuan and Qin Chengfei had both assumed that since Chang Bei had grabbed his car keys, he was about to drag them straight out on a field visit. Instead, Chang Bei didn’t head for the underground garage at all. He pressed the button for the 12th floor and took them to the Legal Department first.
Once there, Chang Bei didn’t bother with the two kids. He went straight into Director Qu Wenning’s office to ask for the draft letter of intent contract he’d previously asked Legal to prepare.
With the contract in hand, Chang Bei flipped through it while chatting casually with Qu Wenning. “Who started that rumor about me waving an intent deposit around and the other company not giving a damn? That came from your department, didn’t it? The big boss asked me about it to my face yesterday. I practically lost all my dignity.”
Qu Wenning glanced at He Xiaoyuan and Qin Chengfei, who had followed Chang Bei into the office, and smiled. “Why would I spread that? You’re the one with the broken gong of a voice, telling everyone yourself, and now you’re blaming me?”
Chang Bei lifted a leg and casually perched himself on the edge of Qu Wenning’s desk, still flipping through the contract. “Am I unlucky or what? Running into bad luck with Baray is one thing, but then the big boss also roasts me to my face. Seriously…”
Meanwhile, He Xiaoyuan and Qin Chengfei were both logging into the company’s OA system on their phones to check the case Chang Bei had mentioned.
Sure enough, there was a “Projects” section in their personal backends. Clicking into it let them view all cases from the past three years.
The cases weren’t carefully categorized; they were sorted by upload time. The title alone listed the uploader, current progress, primary person in charge, and so on. Clicking in revealed the full case details.
While they were still in the elevator, both of them had already started browsing OA. The Baray Tech case was indeed there, titled “‘Ballet Tech’ Mini-Game.”
Uploader: Chang Bei.
Person in charge: Chang Bei.
Status: In progress.
Both He Xiaoyuan and Qin Chengfei were looking at their phones together. The difference was that once they entered Qu Wenning’s office, Qin Chengfei kept his head down, still reading, while He Xiaoyuan put his phone away and looked up.
He glanced toward Qu Wenning, who was talking with Chang Bei, nodded politely, and greeted him. Qu Wenning looked back at him and returned the nod.
As Qu Wenning and Chang Bei continued chatting, He Xiaoyuan listened in quietly as well.
When it was time to leave, He Xiaoyuan was the last one out. Before going, he walked over to the desk and greeted Qu Wenning politely and warmly. “Hello, Director Qu. I’m He Xiaoyuan from Commercial Services. This is our first time meeting.”
Seeing Qu Wenning about to extend his hand, He Xiaoyuan promptly did the same and shook it.
Qu Wenning smiled. “Commercial Services? From Old Yang’s department, huh? I thought he’d stopped hiring already.”
Knowing he still had to catch up with Chang Bei and the others, He Xiaoyuan spoke a bit faster. “I came in this year through the management trainee track and was assigned to Commercial Services. I’m temporarily seconded to the project team.”
Qu Wenning let out an “Oh.” “That explains why Chang Bei brought you along.”
He Xiaoyuan nodded and indicated he’d be heading out.
Qu Wenning smiled and waved him off, thinking to himself that the handsome kid was pretty socially adept.
What he didn’t know was that He Xiaoyuan wasn’t naturally outgoing—he simply knew how to adjust his professional mode. He understood that his work would inevitably involve dealing with other departments, and that if there was a chance to get acquainted early, it would only make things easier down the line.
No one knew that when He Xiaoyuan left the office and hurried to catch up with Chang Bei and Qin Chengfei, he quietly pressed his palms together and wiped away the thin sheen of sweat inside them.
It was his first time doing something like that. He wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, and he was a little nervous.
Fortunately, everything went smoothly. He’d taken his first step, and it counted as a success.
He Xiaoyuan gave himself a quiet pep talk: Take it slow.
After that, he and Qin Chengfei rode in Chang Bei’s car for their very first business trip of their professional lives—He Xiaoyuan in the front passenger seat, Qin Chengfei in the back.
Qin Chengfei was still glued to his phone, multitasking as he listened to Chang Bei talk about Baray Tech while scrolling.
He Xiaoyuan didn’t look at his phone at all. He listened attentively.
As Chang Bei drove, he didn’t talk exclusively about the case in hand or Baray Tech. He also asked about the two of them—where they’d graduated from, how they’d gotten into the company—and even specifically asked He Xiaoyuan whether a lot of people pursued him.
He Xiaoyuan denied it, saying no.
Chang Bei reacted dramatically. “No way. If I had a face like yours, the people chasing me would circle the company building at least once.”
Later, Chang Bei rambled on about all kinds of random topics. Apart from thinking that Chang Bei’s mouth just never stopped, what stuck with He Xiaoyuan the most was Chang Bei asking whether they could drive.
Qin Chengfei said, “I’ve got a license.”
Chang Bei immediately replied, “Damn, if I’d known that, I’d have let you drive. My cases haven’t been going smoothly lately—I’ve got a temper, real road rage.”
Then he added, “You really do need to know how to drive. Makes getting around way easier.”
He Xiaoyuan silently filed that away.
That day, Chang Bei took them to Baray Tech in the morning. At noon, they ate at a restaurant nearby. After the meal, they didn’t go back to the company. Instead, they holed up at a Starbucks, ordered three coffees, and sat down. Chang Bei took phone call after phone call, while Qin Chengfei and He Xiaoyuan sat facing Chang Bei’s laptop, watching him revise his proposal again and again.
Only after seeing the proposal did Qin Chengfei and He Xiaoyuan finally get a clear sense of the Baray Tech case.
Baray Tech had developed a mini-game with the provisional title Meow Meow Meow. Chang Bei was optimistic about it and believed it could be the next traffic hit. He wanted to acquire it and integrate it into the backend of one of Spirytis’s popular social media platforms.
However, a competing company’s social app also wanted Meow Meow Meow.
Baray was wavering, stringing both sides along.
The proposal was written by Chang Bei. Its purpose was to show Baray Tech what a win-win outcome would look like if Meow Meow Meow were handed to them—how much benefit Baray Tech would gain.
While reviewing the document in track-changes mode, Qin Chengfei and He Xiaoyuan noticed that the revenue split had been revised many times. After deducting operating costs, Chang Bei was offering Baray Tech nearly 60% of the profits. The sincerity was undeniable.
Chang Bei sat across from them, on a phone call, muttering into the receiver, “Sixty percent to them and they’re still not satisfied. What the hell more do they want, a free lunch?”
Qin Chengfei and He Xiaoyuan leaned in together, whispering about how that split had even been decided.
Covering his mouth, Qin Chengfei whispered, “Don’t tell me Director Chang decided this on his own.”
He Xiaoyuan covered his mouth as well. “Probably not.”
The mini-game would be installed into the backend of that social media platform. “They must’ve had meetings with that department.”
Qin Chengfei said, “Not necessarily.”
He Xiaoyuan: “?”
Qin Chengfei replied, “If Director Chang has full decision-making authority over the case, adding a mini-game like this might just require notifying them. The other departments would fully cooperate.”
…
While the two of them whispered back and forth, Chang Bei received another call. After listening for a moment, he said slowly, “I know. Baray’s largest shareholder is that idiot Quadrant Capital. And the money behind that fund is Jiang Huan.”
“Who doesn’t know Jiang Huan?”
“I know him. He doesn’t know me.”
…
When He Xiaoyuan and Qin Chengfei heard “Quadrant Capital” and “Jiang Huan,” they both remembered that when they’d eavesdropped on case briefings the day before, other bosses had mentioned those names as well.
They exchanged a look.
Qin Chengfei: You know them? Quadrant Capital, Jiang Huan?
He Xiaoyuan shook his head.
Then he thought again. And again. Wait—no. It does sound familiar. I’ve seen it before. Probably in the materials Director Yang gave us earlier.
That afternoon, when they returned to the department, He Xiaoyuan and Qin Chengfei practically jogged back to their desks. The moment they sat down, they turned on their computers and went straight to the OA system to review cases.
He Xiaoyuan even dug out earlier materials to look up Quadrant Capital and Jiang Huan.
The two of them were no longer idle. Their focus as they stared at their screens made it look like the college entrance exam was tomorrow.
It was also at this point that they finally fully understood how the project team operated.
Projects weren’t finely categorized. There were only two major types: those submitted by the company, and those submitted independently by the project team bosses.
Submissions required approval. Once approved, the case could be worked on.
Any case that existed in the backend system could be worked on.
But from the start, every project had a designated person in charge.
If you were the person in charge, you were working on your own case. If not, you were working on someone else’s case.
For example, Chang Bei was the person in charge of the Baray Tech Meow Meow Meow case. Since he was the lead, he would definitely push the project forward. If Qin Chengfei and He Xiaoyuan joined in, they would be working on the project together with him.
Based on the specifics of the project, Chang Bei would ultimately determine how much responsibility Qin Chengfei and He Xiaoyuan each bore.
That ratio would directly determine how the project bonus would be split.
At present, Chang Bei’s case had only one person in charge and no additional participants. If He Xiaoyuan and Qin Chengfei wanted to join, they would need to operate it through the backend system.
Before they’d returned to the department, Chang Bei had already mentioned this. He told them to think it through: if they wanted to join, they should handle it in the system; if not, then forget it—there’d be no need to keep following him afterward.
Which made it pretty clear that today, under the overwhelming pressure of the big boss, Chang Bei had been “forced” to take two people along.
At this point, having come back and checked the OA system, He Xiaoyuan asked Qin Chengfei in a consultative tone, “Are you going to join President Chang’s case?”
Qin Chengfei replied, “I don’t have a case of my own. Do you?”
He Xiaoyuan shook his head.
Qin Chengfei said decisively, “Then joining is the only option.”
He Xiaoyuan thought Qin Chengfei meant he was going to join Chang Bei’s case and was about to say he’d join as well. Instead, Qin Chengfei shrugged, looking eager to try, and added, “I’ve looked over President Xue’s and President Yu’s projects. I’ll join all of them—so long as they’re willing to take me.”
He Xiaoyuan: ?
He froze for a second and asked instinctively, “Can you even handle that workload?”
He’d already looked through all the cases? During the day? That was insanely fast.
Qin Chengfei turned his head, utterly matter-of-fact. “It’ll probably be a bit busy,” he paused, then said, “but being busy beats sitting around playing Minesweeper.”
As he spoke, he started operating in the backend, submitting requests to join the projects under Chang Bei, Yu Xun, and Xue Jinming.
He Xiaoyuan silently widened his eyes in shock. He’d only been planning to dip his toes in with one project—Qin Chengfei went straight for three?
He Xiaoyuan: Is this guy trying to grind him into the ground?! ⊙v⊙
While he was still reeling, Qin Chengfei’s requests were approved almost instantly. Not only instantly—three bosses nearly simultaneously DM’d Qin Chengfei. He opened three chat windows in one go.
He Xiaoyuan craned his neck to peek over, suddenly feeling like the bosses themselves were competing, too.
Not long after, an icon on his own screen started flashing.
He clicked it. It was Chang Bei.
Chang Bei: 【After thinking it over, you decided not to join?】
Chang Bei: 【My case isn’t bad, you know. The bonus isn’t low either. That unappealing?】
Chang Bei: 【We’re short-handed. Come.】
He Xiaoyuan thought, If you’re short-handed, how did Qin Chengfei manage to slack off in your project group for so long?
It was basically the same problem as companies saying they can’t hire people while job seekers say they can’t find work.
He couldn’t help but laugh helplessly.
He replied to Chang Bei: 【I’m joining.】
Chang Bei: 【Come.】
Chang Bei: 【Remember to do the backend operation.】
…
【Middle-Aged DISCO】—
Chang Bei: 【crying.jpg】【tears.jpg】
Chang Bei: 【Thank the heavens, someone’s finally helping me carry the load.】
Chang Bei: 【I’ve endured too much over the years.jpg】
Xue Jinming: 【Me too, me too! Little Qin has saved me from the depths. Eyes brimming with tears.jpg】
Yu Xun: 【And me! Hand raised.jpg】
Yu Xun: 【Finally won’t have to hold the banner alone anymore. Covering mouth, crying in gratitude.jpg】
Xiao Qiyi: 【What’s going on? Why hasn’t anyone come to my side? Is my project really that bad? That can’t be right!】
…
Yang Yun: 【eating melon.jpg】
Xiao Qiyi: 【@Yang Yun Old Yang, stop watching the show. The handsome guy’s on your side—talk him into it for me. Mine’s really good, strong case, high bonus, great profit share, and I’m gentle—I don’t yell!】
Yang Yun: 【eating melon while accompanying my wife.jpg】
…
That night, He Xiaoyuan sat at his desk in front of his computer, looking so serious it felt like he’d gone back to rotational training overnight.
With one hand, he searched through documents for “Quadrant Capital” and “Jiang Huan.” In his ear, he wore wireless earbuds, still on a call with Lu Chen.
Lu Chen waited a moment before speaking. “Can’t find it? Want me to just tell you? Or teach you?”
He Xiaoyuan stared unblinkingly at the screen, then suddenly straightened up. “Found it!”
He read aloud the line that mentioned Quadrant Capital, murmuring to himself as he went, then said thoughtfully, “So it’s an investment firm.”
Lu Chen replied, “Mm.”
He Xiaoyuan guessed, “Looks like Quadrant’s invested in quite a few solid projects. In earlier cases I checked, a lot of the background checks mentioned them.”
Lu Chen said, “Once you’ve been around longer, you’ll realize this circle is actually pretty small.”
He Xiaoyuan didn’t think that far ahead. He stretched lazily. “I’ll just focus on getting President Chang’s case done first.”
Lu Chen’s tone was gentle. “You’re only following one?”
He Xiaoyuan answered honestly, “I want to follow more, but I’m worried I won’t have the energy—and that I won’t be able to handle it.”
Then he added, “We’ll see. If I get the hang of it and can manage, I’ll pick up more.”
He stretched again, thought of Qin Chengfei following several cases at once—able to do far more in the same amount of time—and sighed, “So. Freaking. Competitive.”
Lu Chen chuckled softly. The sound of his laughter came through the earbuds, warm and pleasant. “Then why don’t you follow me?”
He Xiaoyuan: Huh?
Lu Chen said with a smile, “My projects are good, bonuses are high, profit-sharing’s generous.”
Then added, “And I know a lot. I teach people, and I’ve got a good attitude.”
Now it was He Xiaoyuan’s turn to laugh. Laughing, he sighed, “What virtue or ability do I have to deserve that?”
Lu Chen replied indulgently, “You do.”
He Xiaoyuan said with a smile, “Better not. I already used your connections to get into the project group. If I follow you on projects too, that’d be freeloading all the way—I’m really not that thick-skinned.”
Lu Chen smiled. “I’m fine with you freeloading.”
He Xiaoyuan said, “Then I’ll just freeload off your authority and boss aura, okay?”
Lu Chen: “Hmm?”
With a soft clap, He Xiaoyuan pressed his palms together, leaned back in his chair, and said solemnly, “I’ll borrow it for blessings—may my project go smoothly.”
Lu Chen laughed lightly. “Just that?”
He Xiaoyuan replied, “That’s enough, that’s enough.”
As he spoke, he closed the document and switched to the desktop version of WeChat.
On a whim, he sent Lu Chen a sticker: 【Little Dinosaur cuddling Big Dinosaur.jpg】
In the animated image, the little dinosaur was scooting its tail and butt against the big dinosaur.
Lu Chen must have seen it—his low laughter came through the earbuds.
He Xiaoyuan stretched again, looking at the cuddling big and little dinosaurs in the chat window, thinking that if he really could rub off some good luck, that would be great.
Good luck.
He said to himself.
—
Since He Xiaoyuan was only following Chang Bei’s case, over the next few days it was basically: wherever Chang Bei was, He Xiaoyuan was there; whatever Chang Bei was busy with, He Xiaoyuan was busy with too.
And since Chang Bei was currently fixated on Barlei Technology, the two of them spent several days in a row running back and forth to Barlei.
Over those days, He Xiaoyuan followed Chang Bei and met wave after wave of people from Barlei. After seeing enough, hearing enough, even he—a newcomer just wading into his first case—could tell that Barlei was deliberately avoiding giving any clear signal. They were stringing them along, and the intention was painfully obvious.
That day, as they walked out of Barlei again, Chang Bei kicked viciously at an empty bottle on the ground.
He Xiaoyuan could tell—if kicking someone would magically resolve the case, Chang Bei would absolutely have delivered that kick to the manager who’d just sat there selling them empty promises.
The empty bottle flew off, clattering as it rolled away.
He Xiaoyuan jogged over, picked it up, tossed it into a nearby trash can, then hurried back to Chang Bei’s side.
Chang Bei snapped, “Why’d you pick it up?”
He jerked his chin toward the building behind them. “Let that trash keep polluting the place!”
He Xiaoyuan smiled and said calmly, “President Chang, don’t be mad.”
Chang Bei shrugged his jacket up onto his shoulder, squinting under the blazing sun, muttering, “Just my luck. I knew the moment this got tangled up with Quadrant Capital, nothing good would come of it.”
They got into the car. Chang Bei sat there gripping the steering wheel, tapping his fingers against it, lost in thought.
After a moment, he frowned and turned toward He Xiaoyuan in the passenger seat. “Something’s not right.”
He Xiaoyuan: ?
Chang Bei said, “Wasn’t the guy in charge of the game channel that bald Liu? Every time I came before, he was there. But these past few visits—why hasn’t it been him talking to me at all?”
He Xiaoyuan blinked, thinking to himself: who exactly is this bald Liu?
By Friday, everything finally came into focus. From Chang Bei, He Xiaoyuan learned that Liu Kang, the person responsible for Barlei’s game channel, had recently been getting very close to one of Sipuris’s competitors. Meow Meow was extremely likely to be licensed to the rival company instead.
“Nice! He played me for a fool!”
Chang Bei laughed in anger, flinging the documents down onto his desk.
In the blink of an eye, it was Saturday. Clear skies, blazing sun. Chang Bei brought He Xiaoyuan to stake out in a car blasting the air conditioning. Not far away, under their watchful eyes, stood Barlei Technology’s three-story building in the industrial park.
Chang Bei’s thinking was simple: Liu Kang had toyed with him, so he’d return the favor. Since they wanted to talk about Meow Meow’s licensing, he’d just skip Liu Kang entirely and go straight to Barlei’s big boss.
Didn’t know the big boss? No problem. They had a car and manpower. They’d wait.
They’d squat right outside Barlei’s building—wait until someone showed up.
He Xiaoyuan was genuinely impressed. This was the first time he’d realized you could even do something like this.
Chang Bei reclined his seat, crossed his right leg over his left, and rocked it casually while watching outside, completely at ease. “What’s the big deal? Stick around long enough in this industry and you’ll know. In business, forget dinners and drinks—snatching company seals, pulling hair, scratching faces, it’s all normal.”
Then, like a mentor, he added, “Projects are always like this. If you’ve got the conditions, you do it. If you don’t, you create them and push like hell. Until the very last moment, who knows how it’ll turn out?”
He kept swinging his leg, eyes on the scene outside. “Man, this weather—it’s getting hotter by the day.”
He turned his head. “Hey, handsome. Want some ice cream?”
…
He Xiaoyuan was eating his second cone when he got a call from Lu Chen.
Deliberately trying to keep it under wraps—not wanting colleagues in the same office to know how close he was with Lu Chen—He Xiaoyuan switched the cone to his left hand and held his phone in his right. As he answered, he angled himself away from Chang Bei and immediately pressed the side button to lower the call volume.
“Hey, ge,” he said, carefully leaving off the surname.
Lu Chen’s voice came through. “Still staking out?”
“Yeah.”
The night before, when Lu Chen had asked if he wanted to come over for the weekend, He Xiaoyuan had already mentioned they’d be spending both days staking out Barlei.
Lu Chen gave a soft laugh. “Chang Bei really set a great example—letting you experience what ‘under-the-table tactics’ mean on your very first case.”
He Xiaoyuan didn’t quite know what to say, so he just smiled quietly.
Lu Chen asked, “What are you doing for lunch?”
“Probably just grab something quick,” He Xiaoyuan replied.
After a pause, he asked, “You off today?”
“Yeah, I’m at home,” Lu Chen said. “Originally I wanted you to come over.”
He Xiaoyuan licked his ice cream as he replied, “Next week.”
“What do you feel like eating?” Lu Chen asked.
“Huh?”
“I’ll cook and bring it to you for lunch.”
He Xiaoyuan was surprised. “No need—that’s too much trouble.”
Cooking on purpose and then delivering it personally—He Xiaoyuan didn’t have the nerve, and he didn’t want to put Lu Chen out like that.
Lu Chen’s tone was relaxed and easy. “Not a problem. I’m free anyway.”
Then he added, “How about big crabs? You seemed to like those before.”
After hanging up, He Xiaoyuan told Chang Bei they didn’t need to buy lunch. After a brief pause, deliberately omitting the surname, he added, “My brother’s bringing food.”
Chang Bei kept his eyes on Barlei, replying offhandedly, “You’ve got a brother?”
“Yeah,” He Xiaoyuan said, not elaborating.
That opened the floodgates for Chang Bei. “Local?”
“He’s from here.”
“I’ve got a brother too—five years older than me. How much older is yours?”
Then something seemed to occur to him, and he snapped his head around dramatically. “Wait—your brother isn’t like you too, is he?”
He Xiaoyuan: ?
Chang Bei continued, “Also ridiculously good-looking?”
He Xiaoyuan laughed.
Lu Chen’s face popped into his mind, and with a hint of seriousness, he said, “My brother’s better-looking than me.”
Chang Bei sucked in a theatrical breath.
“And taller than me,” He Xiaoyuan added.
Chang Bei wore an expression that said your handsome-people world is one I dare not imagine, then asked, “Is his job as good as yours?”
He Xiaoyuan thought of the way the office went dead silent the moment Lu Chen arrived and nodded. “Better than mine. He’s really impressive.”
Chang Bei shook his head repeatedly, clicking his tongue. “Your family’s genes—absolutely unreal.”
Around noon, a BMW slowly pulled up and parked behind Chang Bei’s Volvo.
Chang Bei glanced at it in the rearview mirror, noting the front of the car, and silently joked to himself: An X7—nice setup.
He Xiaoyuan answered the call, said a quick word to Chang Bei, then pushed the door open and got out.
He walked to the back, pulled open the front passenger door, and as soon as he got in said, “This is really too much trouble for you.”
Lu Chen looked over. “Getting polite with me again?”
As he spoke, he reached into the back seat, lifted a thermal food carrier from the floor—one stacked a good seven or eight tiers high—and handed it to He Xiaoyuan.
He Xiaoyuan took it, startled. That big?
His eyes widened. “You made this much?”
Lu Chen replied casually, “Not bad. Six dishes and a soup.”
He Xiaoyuan: “……”
He immediately felt embarrassed and guilty. He’d assumed Lu Chen would just throw together a couple of dishes and bring them over—he hadn’t expected a full spread of six.
He couldn’t imagine how long Lu Chen must have been busy. He instantly regretted not refusing when Lu Chen had offered to bring lunch.
“Thanks, ge. You worked hard.”
For a moment, “thank you” was all he could think to say.
Lu Chen looked at him, smiling. “Are you feeling sorry for me?”
He Xiaoyuan lifted his gaze. His eyes were bright, filled with apology. “It must’ve taken a long time, right?”
Lu Chen answered gently, “Not that long. I told you—being idle is being idle.”
Then added, “You treat housework and cooking as a way to relax, but you think I’d suffer just making a few dishes?”
He Xiaoyuan looked up at him, serious. “But it’s six dishes.”
The mix of guilt, concern, and embarrassment softened Lu Chen’s heart completely. He even thought—if I’d known, I would’ve made a few more. No other reason; he just liked seeing the pretty kid worry about him. Really worry.
With that thought, his gaze grew even gentler. He asked whether staking out all morning had yielded anything. When He Xiaoyuan shook his head, Lu Chen comforted him, “Chang Bei does things a bit like Yang Yun, but the results are always good. You’ll learn a lot following him.”
He Xiaoyuan listened carefully and nodded just as seriously.
Lu Chen’s eyes then flicked to the corner of He Xiaoyuan’s mouth, a smile playing on his lips. “What’d you eat?”
As he spoke, he reached over, lightly cupped the boy’s chin in his palm, and brushed his thumb across the corner of his lips.
He withdrew his hand immediately, acting completely natural, as if to smooth over the intimacy—and the subtle ambiguity—of the gesture.
He Xiaoyuan paused, then instinctively raised a hand to wipe his mouth, explaining, “Oh—ice cream this morning.”
He didn’t find anything odd about Lu Chen wiping his mouth.
Lu Chen, likewise, appeared entirely at ease. He even pulled out a tissue and handed it over. Afterward, he rested his arm casually on the center console, letting his hand hang loose, the thumb and forefinger that had just touched He Xiaoyuan’s lips rubbing together lightly, unobtrusively.
He Xiaoyuan wiped his mouth with the tissue, looked up, and asked, “All good?”
Lu Chen smiled. “Yeah.”
Only then did it dawn on He Xiaoyuan that wiping his mouth like that had been a bit intimate.
Truthfully, because of his personality, he’d never really had close physical interactions with other men growing up.
Even with people he was close to—old college roommates, or Yuan Miao and Zou Fanping at most—it was limited to throwing an arm around someone’s shoulders.
Wiping the corner of his mouth?
He didn’t overthink it. He just felt it was intimate, but not uncomfortable. He chalked it up to him and Lu Chen growing closer, their relationship getting better.
He balled the tissue up in his palm and asked, “Have you eaten?”
Lu Chen answered unhurriedly, “No.”
Then added, “I didn’t bring six dishes to run logistics for President Chang.”
As he spoke, he reached out, gesturing for the tissue.
He Xiaoyuan handed it over. “I know—you brought it for me. President Chang’s just benefiting by association.”
Lu Chen leaned against the armrest, his gaze reflecting the young man’s face. He Xiaoyuan sat angled toward him in the passenger seat.
The X7 was spacious. They were sitting very close.
Closer and closer.