The stretched sedan drove into a high-end club in Mid-Levels, passing through a long internal driveway before arriving at the entrance of an elegant building.
The server led them into the restaurant. The interior was incredibly comfortable and luxurious, with collected artwork on the walls and thick carpets on the floor. If not for the dining table in the center, it wouldn’t have looked like a restaurant at all.
Though the process had been a bit awkward, the meal was thoroughly enjoyable. They all focused on devouring the food at first, even forgetting about Huo Boyan, the host.
Only after their stomachs were full did Zhu Ran finally set down his chopsticks and sip some warm luohan guo tea.
Song Xingchen was still wolfing it down. Suddenly realizing he was the only one eating, he looked up at Zhu Ran in confusion. “You’re done?”
Zhu Ran shook his head lazily. “Can’t eat anymore.”
His appetite wasn’t great to begin with, and after adjusting to Hong Kong Island’s humid heat, it had shrunk even more. Today was already exceptional.
“Eating so little— no wonder you’re getting skinnier.” Song Xingchen muttered, then resumed chowing down.
“Have some tong sui.” Huo Boyan personally handed over a bowl of mango sago pomelo.
“Mango sago pomelo?” Song Xingchen looked up, and the server promptly served him a bowl too.
Zhu Ran took a sip and found the texture different from what he was used to.
Song Xingchen noticed too. “Why does this mango sago pomelo have noodles in it?”
Huo Boyan: “Added bird’s nest.”
“So it’s the fancy stuff,” Song Xingchen grinned, then turned to Zhu Ran. “Perfect for you—super nourishing.”
Zhu Ran: “You need the nourishment more.”
Song Xingchen suddenly laughed and winked at Zhu Ran. “Whether I need it or not—you should know, right?”
Zhu Ran: “…”
Bro, do you even see the situation? Is this the time for that?
Song Xingchen was in full drama mode. Unlike Zhu Ran’s personality, he’d been cheeky since childhood, spoiled by the whole family, which made him even more unrestrained.
At first, he’d held back on the way over, unsure of the vibe. But now that he saw Huo Boyan was nicer than expected, he started letting his motormouth loose—even bringing up Zhu Ran’s childhood embarrassments.
Zhu Ran shot him several looks, but Song Xingchen ignored them. Zhu Ran kicked him under the table. The other dodged back a bit but kept talking.
Fed up, Zhu Ran kicked again—and someone grabbed his foot. The hand gripping his ankle was scorching hot. Zhu Ran was startled. When did Song Xingchen get such intense body heat?
He tried to pull his leg back, but the grip on his ankle was firm, not letting him escape.
Across the table, Song Xingchen was still spilling his childhood dirt.
Zhu Ran vaguely sensed something was off.
Song Xingchen was cheeky, but not this reckless.
Wait—had he even kicked Song Xingchen?
Zhu Ran panicked and ducked his head under the table. He saw a man’s suit cuff, broad hand, and a emerald green watch on the wrist.
“…”
Zhu Ran froze. He’d kicked Huo Boyan.
And why was Huo Boyan holding on? It was just two kicks!
The room’s AC was low, but Huo Boyan’s palm was burning. The heat spread from Zhu Ran’s ankle, making his whole body flush.
Song Xingchen: “Classmate Zhu Ran, why’s your face so red?”
Zhu Ran deadpanned, “I’m not red.”
Song Xingchen instantly called his bluff. “No way—your neck’s red too!”
Zhu Ran deadpanned, “It’s hot.”
“But mango sago is cold.”
“I’m overheated.”
“…”
“Try some guilinggao to cool down.” Huo Boyan said, having the server bring Zhu Ran a bowl of guilinggao.
Zhu Ran glared at Huo Boyan. Let go and I’ll cool off. But Huo Boyan didn’t release him. Zhu Ran steeled himself. “I want you to serve it.”
“What?” Song Xingchen across the table looked shocked. He’d never heard Zhu Ran talk like that to anyone.
Zhu Ran felt awkward too, but to get Huo Boyan to let go, he pressed on. “If it’s not from you, I won’t drink it.”
Huo Boyan laughed, glanced at the server nearby, who handed over the guilinggao and a small bowl. With one hand, Huo Boyan served Zhu Ran a bowl, his tone indulgent. “There—happy now?”
It was like Zhu Ran was throwing a spoiled tantrum.
Zhu Ran gritted his teeth and drank the guilinggao, as if it weren’t made from turtle shell but Huo Boyan’s skull.
Song Xingchen suddenly felt like a third wheel and excused himself to the bathroom.
Zhu Ran couldn’t take it anymore. “Mr. Huo, how long do you plan to hold on?”
Huo Boyan raised a brow, somewhat surprised. “You should be asking yourself that.”
Zhu Ran was incredulous. “Me?”
Huo Boyan smiled faintly. “After all, you started it.”
“Who—who started it!” Zhu Ran’s poor grasp of the phrasing made his face burn as he clearly retorted, “I was aiming for Song Xingchen and accidentally hit you.”
“I see,” Huo Boyan finally let go, good-naturedly adding, “Just be more careful next time before you kick. Wouldn’t want any misunderstandings.”
Zhu Ran: “…”
Who else would misunderstand besides you!
Zhu Ran indignantly slipped his sandals back on. Looking down, he saw his ankle was red from Huo Boyan’s grip.
—
Author’s Note:
Tweaked Xingchen’s surname a bit— it overlapped with Zhu Ran’s mom’s before, but they’re not related.
