They ran all the way out of the bar street. Bai Ying turned his head to look behind them. Those people who had chased out from the bar were already out of sight. He asked in bewilderment, “Did those guys have something to say to us?”
Qin Juanshu thought to himself, Not us, just you.
“Irrelevant people. No need to pay them any mind,” Qin Juanshu said, then cautioned him again. “Don’t come to places like this alone in the future. It’s a mixed bag of all sorts—too dangerous.”
He felt like an overprotective father fretting over his delicate daughter. If Bai Ying came to a place like this by himself, he’d probably get his bones chewed up and swallowed whole.
“I don’t like drinking anyway. I wouldn’t come unless I had to,” Bai Ying said as he reached out with his free hand to swipe across Qin Juanshu’s phone screen. “Which route are we taking?”
He didn’t notice that his other hand was still tightly gripped in Qin Juanshu’s, nor did he realize that his cheek was pressed against Qin Juanshu’s shoulder, creating a small dent.
His full attention was on the phone screen, oblivious to the restless thoughts racing through the man beside him.
Qin Juanshu steadied his mind. “The pedestrian street isn’t far from here. How about we head there first?”
Bai Ying had no objections.
They picked a citywalk route that was supposedly the best for nighttime strolls, one that wound through several of Shen City’s landmark attractions. Both of them were essentially native Shen City dwellers, but one was too busy every day to explore the city, while the other had left for overseas as a child and long since lost clear memories of it. They were no different from the endless stream of tourists flocking to the popular spots.
“So many people,” Bai Ying couldn’t help marveling. It was the off-season for tourism, and a weekday at that, yet the pedestrian street was dozens of times livelier than the bar street. The vehicle-free road was packed wall-to-wall with people.
Qin Juanshu gripped Bai Ying’s hand even tighter, using the crowd as the perfect excuse to avoid getting separated.
Bai Ying had wondered about it briefly himself. Even to prevent getting split up, did two guys really need to keep holding hands? Groups of girls on the street weren’t even this touchy-feely. Between bros, it was more like arm-around-the-shoulder…
But the moment he showed the slightest intent to pull his hand away, Qin Juanshu distracted him. “Anything you feel like eating?”
Bai Ying chuckled. “You’re the one who hasn’t had dinner yet. Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
Qin Juanshu figured that feeding Bai Ying brought him more joy.
The pedestrian street was lined with food stalls everywhere, but after looking left and right, both of them wore expressions of indecision. At this point, they might as well see what the app recommended.
“Tan Ji Dim Sum Bureau, a century-old shop with artisanal mastery,” Bai Ying read out word by word.
Qin Juanshu glanced around. Half the visible shops in the dozen or so nearby were “century-old establishments.”
“Cong Wang Hand-Pulled Noodles, the pinnacle of Shen City noodles. No one can resist a bowl of sour soup hand-pulled noodles,” Bai Ying continued.
That shop happened to be nearby, and Qin Juanshu calmly pointed out, “There’s already dozens of people in line outside.”
Bai Ying sucked in a cold breath. No way, no way—they’d be waiting till closing time.
“And this one: Yang Tao Butterfly Pastry, Shen City’s hottest dim sum trend right now. A must-try when visiting, the perfect souvenir… Huh, it looks like we did the ad for this shop.” The little snake was shocked, painful memories of haggling with the client flooding back.
The two of them huddled over the phone for a good while, researching, but couldn’t find a spot with no line, rave reviews, delicious food untainted by client meddling. In the end, hand in hand, they dazedly headed for a nationwide chain.
One bamboo-tube soft-serve in hand, one fresh-squeezed orange juice in the other. By the end of the street, after tossing the empty bamboo tube from the ice cream, they could even grab a couple skewers of squid legs—peak influencer bait, the ideal pick for clueless tourists!
Qin Juanshu asked the vendor for extra napkins, carefully wrapping the sharp skewers before handing them to Bai Ying.
Qin Juanshu held his own skewer too, eating without a hint of hesitation. Bai Ying watched him curiously. He’d assumed a big boss like Qin Juanshu only dined at fancy Western restaurants and turned his nose up at street barbecue.
“What’s wrong?” Qin Juanshu noticed Bai Ying’s gaze lingering on him.
Bai Ying answered honestly. “I thought you wouldn’t eat stuff like this.”
Qin Juanshu smiled. “Why’d you think that?”
“Um… it’s greasy and salty, hygiene’s iffy, not great for the body?” Bai Ying said.
Qin Juanshu replied, “Aren’t you eating it too?”
Bai Ying said, “I’m different.”
He was a corporate drone who could probably assemble a periodic table in his gut—not like you fancy big bosses!
“There’s no real difference. If most people think it tastes great, I’m no exception.” Qin Juanshu twirled the squid leg in his hand, recalling something from long ago. “When I was a kid walking home from school, the driver always passed another elementary school. That one was way livelier than mine. After school, vendors gathered at the gate, and the grill stalls were the biggest draw. I was always curious how good they could be, but the driver followed my dad’s orders—not only wouldn’t he buy any for me, he’d report it straight to Dad. That day, I got an earful for coveting things unfit for my status.”
Wow, there really are Celestial Dragons in this world. Bai Ying was deeply shocked.
“My mom found out later. One day after school, instead of the usual driver, she was waiting at the gate. She took my hand and went to that ordinary elementary school, bought me a huge pile of the lamb skewers Dad called ‘unfit.’ ” Qin Juanshu’s voice softened. “They were delicious, but someone like my dad would never know.”
“Right? They’re insanely good,” Bai Ying agreed. “My elementary school had them at the gate too, but I couldn’t afford any… Though my classmates were super nice—someone was always sharing snacks with me.”
Not just nice, huh?
Qin Juanshu couldn’t help gazing into Bai Ying’s bright eyes. He must have been incredibly likable even as a little kid.
Qin Juanshu said, “If I’d been in your class, I would’ve bought you treats every day too.”
“But mooching off classmates all the time isn’t right,” Bai Ying declared—he was a little snake with principles. “So I offered to let them copy my homework, but…”
Qin Juanshu prompted, “But?”
“But they said the accuracy was too low!” Bai Ying said dejectedly, his inner little snake drooping its head. “The class monitor even dragged me for tutoring!”
Qin Juanshu finally burst out laughing.
So cute. How could someone this adorable exist in the world? Qin Juanshu thought. Just being with him chased away all bad moods, even without doing a thing.
Who could possibly deserve him?
They left the pedestrian street and followed the influencer’s meticulously planned citywalk route to the musical fountain. Water jets rose to varying heights with the music, bursting into sprays of different sizes, transformed into vibrant colors by the lights that danced in Bai Ying’s eyes. Fine mist like cow hair drifted down from the sky, and Qin Juanshu held out his hand to shield Bai Ying’s head.
Next, they went to the retro bus station and boarded a public bus styled like something from the last century. It was packed with tourists, so they didn’t fight for seats. Gripping the overhead handholds, Qin Juanshu subtly encircled Bai Ying in his arms for protection.
The route hugged the riverbank, following the eastern shore of Shen City’s largest river, the Shen River. Across the water stretched a swath of Western-style buildings, their outlines traced by lights—locals called it Xiyang Beach. They got off at the terminal, but Xiyang Beach stretched on endlessly, as if it meant to follow the rushing river all the way to the horizon.
They kept walking along the river. Plenty of others were citywalking too, along with locals out for casual riverside strolls, but overall it was quieter than the pedestrian street. The head-on river breeze scattered words, leaving only the voices of those nearby audible.
Some gazed at the scenery; some gazed at people. Qin Juanshu’s eyes always stayed on Bai Ying, while Bai Ying clutched his nearly empty orange juice, absorbed in the view across the river.
Woo, this is the life! No work is pure bliss!
Bai Ying thought hopefully that his future owner would take him out like this too—not often, just occasionally. He’d behave, hiding in a pocket with just his eyes peeking out, careful not to scare anyone.
The remaining ice cubes clinked softly in his cup. No one noticed amid the chatter, the wind, the river’s rush, and the sudden tolling of bells.
Dong—dong—
A clock tower across the river chimed at set times each day; ten o’clock was its final ring.
The tower stood in one of Shen City’s busiest districts, where lights never dimmed and people never slept. Ten at night marked the start of nightlife for many—but for someone with someone waiting at home?
“Isn’t it getting too late?” Qin Juanshu said, his tone cooling unconsciously—not aimed at Bai Ying. “If we don’t head back soon, the person at your place might have something to say.”
Bai Ying looked at him puzzled. “What person at my place? I live alone.”
Qin Juanshu’s pupils dilated slightly as he stared at Bai Ying. The river wind lifted his soft hair strands; Bai Ying’s eyes held nothing but genuine confusion.
“You… live alone?” It felt like his soul had left his body; Qin Juanshu heard his own voice speaking beyond his control.
“I’ve always lived alone!” Bai Ying insisted.
Even in his poorest days, Bai Ying had avoided roommates. With others around, he couldn’t freely shift back to his true form and slither about!
His heart pounded wildly.
No Lu Changjun, no one else—Bai Ying lived alone.
Qin Juanshu suddenly realized he’d misunderstood a great many things. After a dazed moment, he regained his voice. “…The rent in that complex of yours must be pretty steep, right? Isn’t the financial pressure a bit much?”
“Because a lot of people died there before—it’s a haunted house, so the rent’s actually decent,” Bai Ying said softly. “But with my income, it’s still a squeeze…”
I’ll sneak you a raise, then another… Qin Juanshu thought back to their first meeting. “The first time we met, you spilled coffee on me…”
“I had a fever that day; I wasn’t all there,” Bai Ying said, feeling wronged. He’s not settling scores now, is he? “And it wasn’t just me not watching where I was going—you can’t blame it all on me.”
“It’s on me,” Qin Juanshu nodded. He only had one thing left to clarify. “Thanks for coming out tonight. I’ll transfer the overtime pay to your card… Oh, and you seem to really like this watch—I’ve caught you looking at it a few times. Here, it’s yours as a thank-you.”
Qin Juanshu removed the watch from his wrist. Bai Ying’s pale skin would suit the Prussian blue face perfectly.
“No need,” Bai Ying didn’t take it. “I don’t like wearing accessories.”
Though TV demons could shift with their clothes and jewelry intact, Bai Ying couldn’t. Reverting to snake form meant everything clattered off; shifting back left him naked, forcing him to gather and redress piece by piece. So he avoided carrying much, lest he lose it all in an emergency shift.
Still, he hadn’t expected Qin Juanshu to notice his glances… Bai Ying felt a bit embarrassed. “I just like snakes, so I looked at the little snake on the watch a lot.”
Remembering how different his tastes were from Xiao Lu’s, he quickly added, “Just little snakes!”
Snake lovers, find your own kind—I can hook you up with Xiao Lu’s card!
Qin Juanshu murmured, “So that’s how it is.”
Bai Ying cleared his throat twice. “Um… actually, you don’t have to pay overtime either. It probably can’t go through company accounts, right? Don’t cover it yourself—I had a great time tonight. Thanks for inviting me out.”
Qin Juanshu thought, No, I should be thanking you.
And sorry for my past wild assumptions.
***
It was getting late. Having spent so much time abroad, Qin Juanshu had grown accustomed to not wandering at night, especially not with someone as striking-looking as Bai Ying. He put Bai Ying in a cab home, then walked a stretch along the river by himself.
No deliberate seduction—the coffee spill was because Bai Ying was sick, and he’d been the distracted one too. Good thing it hit him instead; what if Bai Ying had gotten scalded?
It wasn’t that he wanted the luxury watch at all. Bai Ying had no idea of its value; he simply liked the little snake on it. When he had asked if he liked snakes back then, was that a gesture of goodwill toward him?
Nor did he live in a house rented for him by some other man. Bai Ying had always been entirely self-reliant. And that place was a haunted house—wouldn’t he be afraid living there all alone…
Qin Juanshu’s face betrayed no emotion, but his mind raced with a thousand thoughts.
To think he had misunderstood so much. Qin Juanshu wished he could travel back in time and slap his past self.
Fortunately, he had never voiced those malicious assumptions outright in front of Bai Ying, nor targeted him on purpose… He still had a chance to pursue Bai Ying.
Yes, pursue.
Even amid all those lingering misunderstandings, he had been unconsciously drawn to Bai Ying. Now that every last one had vanished, how could he possibly hold back his feelings?
But Qin Juanshu had no idea how to go about pursuing someone. A direct confession? That would probably scare him off. Flowers, cars, a house? Bai Ying showed no particular greed for money—he likely wouldn’t accept them anyway, and it might frighten him even more. Flowers just sounded flashy and empty.
And then there was the biggest obstacle of all… He didn’t want to stay here.
But Qin Juanshu couldn’t force Bai Ying to leave with him for some completely unfamiliar place.
Qin Juanshu pondered for a long time until only one thought remained in his mind.
Even if Bai Ying never came to like him, even if they never ended up together, he hoped Bai Ying could live a good life—even if that life had no place for him in it.
Qin Juanshu dialed an overseas number.
The call connected quickly. It was a little past three in the afternoon in Berlin. A slightly distorted female voice emerged from the receiver, drawling lazily, “Yo, calling me now? You getting ready to come back?”
“Not yet. Things have changed—I won’t return until I’ve crushed Qin Chi and that illegitimate son of his,” Qin Juanshu said. “Come over here. I’m short on hands.”
“Don’t you have anyone else working for you? Why me?”
“You speak Chinese, and you majored in marketing for your undergrad. Perfect match for the job,” Qin Juanshu replied.
“What the hell? You’re not seriously planning to run that rundown ad company, are you? Isn’t it just a stepping stone into Minghong?” The woman couldn’t help but gripe.
“Enough talk. Get here ASAP,” Qin Juanshu said curtly.
“Fine, but you have to at least tell me when you’ll be back, roughly.”
“If things go smoothly, one or two years,” Qin Juanshu said. He leaned against the railing, gazing down at the river flowing in the direction Bai Ying had gone. “If I’m lucky… I’ll bring someone back with me.”
