The little fellow paid him no mind at all, ignoring his coaxing and whistling as he trotted out all his usual bird-entertaining tricks from back in the day. Not a peep came in response.
Bai Yiyi, of course, wasn’t about to give any reaction. This was the previous owner of his bird body, after all. What if he overplayed his hand and the guy got jealous enough to try snatching him back or forcing another round of breeding? How would he even handle that?
In truth, he was worrying for nothing. Hua Hongqing was a domineering president if ever there was one—one in a million, no less. There was no way he’d have the gall to demand back a gift he’d already given away.
Even if he was burning with envy right then.
What Hua Hongqing couldn’t wrap his head around was this: Young Master Snow White was a bird he’d hand-raised himself. Why had it never shown this kind of smarts before? How had it ended up so perfectly trained under a roughneck like Yan Tuo? Could changing its name really hold some kind of mystical power?
Dinner wrapped up, and seeing his childhood friend’s face droop, Yan Tuo felt a flicker of hidden glee. Half gloating, half consoling, he said, “Give it up. It’s standoffish with everyone like that—aloof and unresponsive. You’re not the only one.”
With that, he called out to his beloved pet: “Tangyuan, come on. Let’s head up to the rooftop and walk off the meal.”
The little white dumpling hopped nimbly onto his shoulder. Yan Tuo tugged open his shirt pocket, and it slid down with practiced ease, landing steady at the bottom. It stayed perfectly still, nothing but half its head poking out like a pot lid.
This whole flashy display of pet-handling flair left Hua Hongqing slack-jawed and green with envy all over again, his face twisting comically.
Yan Tuo yanked open the fridge for some beers and spotted a dish of braised meats wrapped neatly in plastic nearby. His fondness grew for that unseen auntie—talk about thoughtful and meticulous. A real model employee in the housekeeping world.
He grabbed a six-pack carrier, had his buddy carry the braised dish, and the two of them ambled up to the rooftop.
Once there, Hua Hongqing made a beeline for the lounge chair like he owned the place. Yan Tuo dragged a low stool from the corner and settled in beside him. He lifted the little white dumpling out and set it on the small wooden table. The two men and their bird companion quietly passed the time with the braised meats and beers.
After a long stretch, Hua Hongqing raised his bottle. “Tuozi, happy birthday. Thirty-one now.”
Yan Tuo clinked his bottle against it but said nothing, just tipped his head back for a swig.
The man on the lounge chair pressed on. “You see your uncle and aunt this afternoon?”
“Yeah.”
Hua Hongqing’s voice dropped low. “Look at you, spending your birthday like this—of all days, it lines up with their death anniversary. Every year I think about throwing you a bash, but I just can’t. If your uncle and aunt are watching from up there, I bet they hate seeing you all alone like this.”
Yan Tuo shot him a sidelong glance. “Alone? You’re not a person? Have you missed a single one of these?”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean you still haven’t found someone… Hey, don’t even look at me like that. Even if you swung my way out of love, I couldn’t handle a 190cm steel top like you.”
Knowing his buddy was just blathering to lighten the mood, Yan Tuo still couldn’t resist kicking the lounge chair. He laughed and cursed, “Get lost. A dog’s mouth can’t spit ivory.”
Hua Hongqing grinned, then grew earnest. “But seriously, Tuozi, stop being so picky, alright? They say a thirty-year-old virgin’s a wizard—you’re wizard-plus-one now. Just find someone easy on the eyes and get a taste of the action. I was climbing the walls at sixteen or seventeen. No idea how you’ve held out this long.”
Yan Tuo’s reply came cool and flat. “At sixteen or seventeen, I’d already lost my home. In the mood to fool around?”
The lounging man faltered, at a loss for words for a good long while.
Some time passed, two beers down. Maybe it was the mood, or perhaps the booze, but Yan Tuo unusually opened up that night.
“It’s not that I don’t want to. Believe me, I do. But I just can’t find that spark. How to put it…? You know what my dad was like—such a drama queen. A paper cut and he’d wail like the sky was falling. But that day, no matter how those bastards worked him over, he clenched his teeth and demanded they let my mom and me go before he’d cough up the password. How the hell did he endure it?”
He paused, then went on.
“Then my mom. Soon as we hit the base of the mountain, she pointed me off to get help and call the cops, then charged right back in without a second thought. Sure, she was a good cop, but what chance does an unarmed woman have against three armed thugs?
“Hongqing, I resented her for it—leaving me behind to run back and die. But a few years back, when I got into the city bureau and dug up the old files… you know what? When they went, their hands were clasped tight. Couldn’t pry them apart.
“Now… I’m almost glad it was just me left. This loneliness? I’ll bear it. Let them be all lovey-dovey and happy on the other side.”
Yan Tuo knocked back a hasty gulp of beer, steadying himself before voicing his real question.
“It’s not pickiness. All these blind dates, they’ve paraded past me like a carousel. But I can’t picture feeling that way with any of them. I’m starting to go face-blind… You get what I mean?”
Asking Hua Hongqing—who’d come out in high school and lived on fast hookups—was like asking the wrong oracle. A guy like that wouldn’t grasp the depths of love unto death. But it didn’t stop him from getting the picture: his buddy was chasing something pure.
He replied, “I get it. But no matter how deep it runs, it comes after getting to know someone. You can’t expect someone to take a bullet for you after one meal. Food’s eaten bite by bite, and feelings build slow. That one your sister’s been lining up for you—met her yet?”
“Nope. She found someone suitable, but we haven’t even met. Then she strong-armed her husband into lining up another. Set for tomorrow.”
“Hey, well, here’s to hoping. Maybe this one’s your soulmate!”
They clinked bottles casually, and Yan Tuo chuckled low. “Here’s hoping.”
Hua Hongqing couldn’t resist prying. “What’s she like? Where you meeting?”
“Sister-in-law’s old boss’s kid. Overseas returnee. Said I pick the spot, so that private kitchen not far downstairs.”
The man on the lounge chair wrinkled his nose. “Food’s good there, sure, but the vibe? Kinda meh. Why do you always pick that place when it’s your call?”
Yan Tuo drawled back, “Window seat’s perfect—you can see my place right across. If it goes south, I point it out: See that? My home. Forty-square-meter bachelor pad. Rented.”
Hua Hongqing caught on quick. “…Making her cut her losses? Playing the cop who’s never home and flat-broke to boot? No wonder. With that face, you’ve done a ton of blind dates—practically a pro—and no one’s locked you down.
“You’re sneaky bad! Rented? From who? This whole complex is under Captain Yan’s name—isn’t it your big uncle Yan Bancheng’s coming-of-age gift? You slumlord. Lie in bed doing nothing, and you’re set for three hundred lifetimes.”
His buddy ragged on him at length, but Yan Tuo brushed it off. Not like he’d hidden it on purpose; he just didn’t sweat the superficial stuff. The right person would get it without words. As for the rest? Let ’em think what they want.
Once Bai Yiyi heard his crush had a blind date at the restaurant downstairs tomorrow, everything the two said after flew right past him. His mind buzzed, like a big stick had smashed him awake from a sweet dream. It hurt, bad.
Of course. His owner was straight as an arrow. Off to a blind date, maybe even fall in love, get married soon. These days of pampering? Just for the pet. What was he so thrilled about? Acting like they were lovers?
Bai Yiyi’s funk lingered straight through to after work the next day. Watching his heartthrob shed the uniform for a standard button-down and slacks ramped up that helpless frustration tenfold.
“Tangyuan, I’ve got something to do. You stay home and be good.”
A simple goodbye, and Bai Yiyi watched his man’s back vanish. The urge to spy finally peaked.
He zipped to the windowsill for a peek. Moments later, that tall, handsome figure strode out the complex gate and into the restaurant across the street, its windows lush with pothos.
Bai Yiyi could swear to the heavens he hadn’t meant to. His wings just… took over, ignoring orders entirely.
By the time he snapped to, he’d sneaked unseen into the shadows of one of those pothos pots.
His owner sat ramrod straight, back to him, idly flipping the menu as he waited patiently.
Ten-odd minutes later, a tall, fair beauty in a sleeveless little black dress glided in gracefully. “Yan Tuo? Mr. Yan?”
Yan Tuo stood at once and nodded. “That’s me. Miss Lu? Please, have a seat.”
Miss Lu’s eyes lit up—she clearly hadn’t expected the real deal to outshine the photos. She flashed a delighted smile and settled in boldly.
Yan Tuo was a blind-date veteran by now, but these scenes still chafed. He didn’t push for chit-chat, just quietly rinsed her bowl and chopsticks, poured tea, and slid over the menu.
“Miss Lu, see anything you like? I know the owner here. Place looks basic, but the food’s top-notch. Order freely—no duds on the menu.”
The beauty tilted her face just so, showing off her best angle, her dainty chin dipping in a soft “Mm.” She took the menu with elegant poise and began perusing.
Yan Tuo seized the moment for a discreet once-over. His gaze flicked over the Patek Philippe on her wrist and the Chanel bag by the table, then dropped as he slowly drained his glass of plain water.
He had already quietly formed his opinion of this meeting. It was probably another waste of time, just one more flop in his long history of blind dates.
He had nothing against women using luxury goods. Everyone loved beauty, and if they had the means, their choice of accessories was entirely their own business—no one else’s place to comment.
It was just that Miss Lu’s background made this all the more questionable. As the daughter of his brother-in-law’s old superior, her father was surely part of the system. Her blind date—a government employee on paper—was meeting her here. For a fresh graduate who hadn’t even started working yet, arriving decked out in such flashy, extravagant accessories didn’t seem… particularly wise.
Before he could figure out how to casually drop that he owned a 1,300-square-foot bachelor apartment, Miss Lu across from him spoke up with easy familiarity. “Captain Yan, I’ve heard your name for ages. Yan Tao and I were classmates in Country M for two years—he was always talking about you.”
“…My cousin?”
