Chapter 2: Yan Xinfeng Part 2

“Yeah.”

Yan Xinfeng slid the phone into his pocket, the fabric folds swallowing the last vibration.

Lu Zhao sneered coldly: “That clinging leech won’t quit until it drains every drop of blood…”

He grew more annoyed as he spoke, on the verge of launching into a family lineage rant, but Yan Xinfeng stopped him with a finger to his shoulder.

“Happy occasion ahead—watch your mouth.”

“Watch my mouth for them?” Lu Zhao snorted through his nose. “Not running a dump truck over them is me being merciful.”

“Not worth it.” Yan Xinfeng gazed at the darkening sky outside the window. “A heavy truck would stick to the asphalt; cleaning it up would block traffic.”

If he hadn’t said it, fine—but now Lu Zhao raised a brow.

“That reaction of yours…” He mused, circling Yan Xinfeng twice. “Why do I feel like you’ve considered it?”

Ordinary people would not immediately think of the corresponding outcome after hearing a joke, unless they had anticipated it beforehand.

The more Lu Zhao thought about it, the more suspicious he became, yet he saw Yan Xinfeng merely curl the corner of his lips into a grin. In the reflection of the floor-to-ceiling window, that smile was bisected by the sea horizon.

The waiter led them into the observation hall at that moment. Outside the entire glass curtain wall, the port lights floated and sank in the thickening night, while the salty sea breeze slipped through the window cracks, carrying the distant low hum of the engines.

Following maritime tradition, the captain was explaining the route map in accented English. Not everyone listened, but this was an indispensable pre-voyage ceremony on the cruise ship.

Once the last navigation marker position was explained and the captain had just left, Lu Zhao immediately whistled. The double carved doors swung open in response, and the waiters filed in.

The champagne tower refracted amber light under the crystal chandelier, while whiskey bottles chilled in ice buckets, beads of water condensing on them—this meticulously planned pre-wedding party truly began its first highlight at that moment.

When people encountered joyful occasions, even those with good tolerance usually got themselves drunk.

Two hours later, Yan Xinfeng leaned back on the soft-backed sofa in the observation hall, watching his childhood friends drink themselves into a rowdy frenzy. Lu Zhao especially held a wine bottle and sang and danced wildly.

He was happy at heart, Yan Xinfeng knew.

The itinerary for this cruise ship had been personally finalized by Lu Zhao—from City A, passing through Europe to pick up the bride, then straight to the wedding site. Eight years ago, when Lu Zhao first mentioned this plan, his eyes had sparkled like tempered steel.

‘I know it’s not easy for her,’ he had said then. ‘I want to give her the best.’

Yan Xinfeng remembered drunkenly patting his shoulder and saying, ‘Alright, when your dream comes true, we’ll definitely be there.’

‘We?’ Lu Zhao squinted as he processed it for a moment, then suddenly realized, ‘Oh, right, and Wei Tingxia.’

He flopped back onto the sofa, laughing hazily through the drunkenness: ‘You two… haven’t had it easy either.’

Lu Zhao’s wedding had been difficult, but Yan Xinfeng and Wei Tingxia’s situations were even harder. No one was optimistic about them; even their closest friends thought they would eventually part ways. Lu Zhao never said it outright, but the same judgment hid in his eyes.

And how had Yan Xinfeng responded at the time?

He had said—

‘It’s fine, we can…’

The memory suddenly jammed, like a reel breaking in an old projector.

Can what?

Endure it? Wait? Or… give up?

He recalled a perfectly ordinary night in the past. He returned to the apartment they shared and saw the lights of myriad homes flickering outside, but the living room was unlit. Wei Tingxia lay on the sofa, covered with a blanket. Hearing him enter, Wei Tingxia opened his eyes. In the instant he raised his hand, a faint silver light flashed from the ring finger joint on his left hand—

His thoughts were interrupted by Lu Zhao’s sudden burst of laughter.

Yan Xinfeng snapped out of the recollection and saw Lu Zhao plop down messily, one hand on his shoulder, shouting at the top of his lungs: ‘Yan Xinfeng! I’m getting married! I’m marrying her!’

Yan Xinfeng felt disgusted: ‘You’ve said that eight hundred times already.’

Drunk people easily spouted nonsense, and Lu Zhao was no exception.

Two wires had crossed in his brain. He slapped Yan Xinfeng’s shoulder hard and continued: ‘I’m about to get married, and you’re still—’

Before he finished, a friend who had rushed over urgently covered his mouth.

‘What the hell are you saying!’ The friend tried desperately to stop him, breaking into a cold sweat amid the boisterous music. ‘How much have you drunk?’

Lu Zhao struggled free with clumsy movements fueled by alcohol. ‘Stop me? I have to say it!’

In an instant, the revelry in the compartment came to an abrupt halt, even the background music tactfully lowering its volume.

Yan Xinfeng sat quietly, his expression unchanged.

Lu Zhao slumped in the sofa, his chest heaving violently. He suddenly leaned forward, staring at the other with drunken, hazy eyes: ‘It’s been five years… you should have moved on by now.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Bullshit!’ Lu Zhao slammed the table, knocking over a wine glass. ‘You think you’re some tragic romantic? She’s long forgotten you! After all that drama back then…’

Before he finished, everyone in the room drew in sharp breaths. The friend laughed dryly to smooth things over: ‘Hahaha, he’s drunk…’

‘I’m perfectly sober!’ Lu Zhao shook off the supporting hand, his voice amplified by the alcohol. ‘You think I don’t know? Back when you broke up—’

Yan Xinfeng suddenly raised three fingers, blocking Lu Zhao’s face.

‘Huh?’

Yan Xinfeng asked: ‘What is this?’

Lu Zhao squinted through his drunken haze, and after a moment, suddenly grinned: ‘OK!’

‘……’

Yan Xinfeng rubbed his brow and stood up. His shadow loomed over his drunken friend as he said softly: ‘That’s three, you idiot.’

‘Three?’ Lu Zhao confusedly counted his own fingers, then suddenly tilted and collapsed into the sofa.

Yan Xinfeng turned and pushed the door open to leave.

‘Brother Yan, you okay?’ The corridor lights stung the eyes, and panicked footsteps followed behind. ‘I figured he was just drunk and happy, no other meaning, not intentional…’

It had been five years since Yan Xinfeng pulled through, and no one had mentioned the past. Lu Zhao was the first.

‘I know,’ Yan Xinfeng said. ‘I’m fine.’

Wei Tingxia had been gone for five years; they probably would not meet again afterward. Yan Xinfeng would not spare him even a shred of emotion.

The friend breathed a sigh of relief. Among their group, Yan Xinfeng and Lu Zhao were the closest; a conflict at this juncture would sour things for everyone.

‘Then get some early rest.’ The friend retreated with an awkward smile. ‘I’ll check on that drunkard.’

Yan Xinfeng nodded and listened as the footsteps faded. The window at the end of the corridor reflected his blurry silhouette, like an old photo blurred by rain.

He no longer loved Wei Tingxia. He told himself again from the heart.

He would not reminisce anymore, would not think about it anymore.

From the moment Wei Tingxia resolutely left him, they had no future.

……

Meanwhile, Wei Tingxia had just received notice to rest when he ran into Zhu Ying at the corridor corner.

Zhu Ying’s gaze was somewhat unusual.

‘Sister Zhu?’ Wei Tingxia keenly sensed something off and paused his steps.

‘Someone was asking about you.’ Zhu Ying got straight to the point.

The smile at the corner of Wei Tingxia’s mouth instantly froze. ‘Asking about me?’

‘Mm-hmm.’ Zhu Ying nodded slightly. ‘The guest in 1207, remember?’

Of course he remembered. Wei Tingxia’s impression of Wang Yufei had upgraded from ‘rich but irrelevant’ to ‘rich, stupid trouble’.

‘A junior high classmate.’ Wei Tingxia gave a brief explanation. ‘He spotted me earlier when I was laying linens in the steward’s room.’

‘I see.’

Zhu Ying understood and added, ‘He went straight to the steward to ask if there was a waiter named Wei Tingxia on the cruise ship and even inquired about your work area.’

Wei Tingxia: ‘……’

His brows unconsciously furrowed. Wang Yufei’s blatant inquiries were not only unnecessary but could bring him unnecessary trouble.

Fortunately, Zhu Ying was reasonable.

‘Reuniting after a long time is understandable, but mind your boundaries.’ She reminded him in a businesslike tone. ‘The cruise ship strictly prohibits improper contact between staff and passengers; you know the rules.’

Wei Tingxia nodded repeatedly: ‘I understand!’

‘Good, I’ll talk to the steward. You don’t need to worry.’

Zhu Ying glanced down at her phone and said no more: ‘Let’s go, get some rest. Be on duty on time tomorrow.’

Wei Tingxia left.

System 0188 popped up: [You still good?]

‘Not good,’ Wei Tingxia gritted his teeth. ‘I’ve been tangled up with an idiot; how could I be good?’

He had thought Wang Yufei at least had a clear head, but he turned out to be another fool blinded by lust, blabbing around the ship. If Yan Xinfeng heard, that would be entertaining.

Back in his room, he shut the door, and a dangerous thought suddenly flashed: ‘What if I use an ashtray to crack open his skull and send him to the infirmary—wouldn’t that settle it once and for all?’

[……]

System 0188 fell silent.

After the silence, it earnestly asked: [Can you calm down a bit?]

‘No,’ Wei Tingxia took off his jacket. ‘He’ll definitely come looking for me again later.’

Just thinking about having to play along with such a person later filled Wei Tingxia with irritation; he had been spoiled rotten, his temper growing worse. He had no intention of wronging himself.

[Then hurry up and connect with Yan Xinfeng,] System 0188 said. [That way, you won’t need him to take you to the upper decks.]

The Stardust hosted an important segment of Lu Zhao’s pre-wedding party. At Wang Yufei’s level, he was just an ordinary passenger and would likely disembark at a mid-route stop. To make use of him, time was of the essence.

‘……’

Wei Tingxia slammed his jacket onto the bed and stared at the churning waves outside the porthole. After a long moment, he irritably exhaled.

Money was hard to earn. His lips moved silently, adding the second half.

…and shit was hard to eat.

The cruise ship, which had set sail at midnight, was already far from City A port by dawn. The next morning, Wei Tingxia was assigned to the third-deck passenger activity area.

The third deck’s activity zones were divided meticulously. Considering Wei Tingxia was new, the supervisor specially assigned him to the simplest area, where he only needed to assist the bartender in passing drinks.

As the sky lightened faintly, Wei Tingxia entered the empty activity area.

Morning light streamed through the panoramic glass, stretching his shadow long. At the distant sea-sky horizon, a pale glow appeared, while the salty sea breeze passed through the half-open porthole, carrying the unique chill of the deep ocean.

‘Hello,’ he greeted the bartender. ‘I’m the new waiter.’

The bartender was a clean-featured, artistic young man type. He looked up at Wei Tingxia: ‘Hello.’

The activity area’s waitstaff had special uniforms, with unique fabric and tailoring that nicely accentuated the waiters’ figures—just looking was pleasing to the eye.

The bartender’s gaze traveled from Wei Tingxia’s shoulders down to his waist, growing more appreciative, and after a moment he added: ‘You look good.’

‘Thanks.’

Following the employee handbook, Wei Tingxia prepared with the other staff.

By nine o’clock, people began arriving in the activity area.