Chapter 14

Jiang Mian noticed the change in Chen Gu’s wording. So after nodding slowly, he thought to himself, from now on, he and Chen Gu should be friends.

Chen Gu wasn’t familiar with South Boundary and could only follow the GPS. But Jiang Mian knew it very well. “How good are your driving skills?”

Chen Gu didn’t quite understand and tilted his head to look at him. “I used to race cars.”

Then they were very good.

Jiang Mian said, “I’ll guide you through the shortcuts.”

Chen Gu nodded. Without a single question—not even as a joke—he directly reached out and turned off the GPS.

With Jiang Mian beside him giving brief directions on where to turn and which lane to take, they quickly escaped the overly congested main roads and began weaving through alleys so narrow they could only fit one car at a time.

It was like navigating a maze, except Chen Gu had activated “God Mode” in this maze.

Jiang Mian also got to see proof that Chen Gu’s driving skills were indeed excellent. Some of these alleys were so narrow it was genuinely questionable whether a car could squeeze through. Chen Gu managed it.

Jiang Mian didn’t actually need to verify how good Chen Gu’s driving was. He just knew these routes because some taxi drivers in South Boundary were also well-versed in them, able to nimbly weave through the city’s major and minor streets.

He had a good memory. He couldn’t drive through these alleys himself, but he remembered the routes.

They saved more than half the time getting to the residential complex. Once there, Jiang Mian directly used facial recognition to let Chen Gu into the underground parking garage.

Although all the parking spots had been bought, the garage was still very empty.

Jiang Mian gestured for Chen Gu to park in the spot next to his own car.

Chen Gu asked, “Should I leave a phone number so that if the owner comes back, I can move the car?”

“No need.” Jiang Mian shook his head. “This is my dad’s parking spot.”

Jiang Liaoyi was abroad right now. Who knew when they’d see him next?

Chen Gu was a bit surprised. “I heard from Chen Yishen that you live alone.”

Jiang Mian: “…”

Had Chen Yishen spilled his entire family background to Chen Gu?

“My dad does not live with me, no,” Jiang Mian said honestly. “But he visits occasionally. He needs somewhere to park.”

Although a parking spot in this complex wasn’t cheap, to a major lawyer like Jiang Liaoyi—second-largest shareholder of the Rong family—this amount of money was pocket change. Spending it on Jiang Mian was even less of a consideration.

Jiang Mian’s home was on the seventeenth floor—a middle floor, a perfectly good location.

Generally, pricing for this floor level was higher than others. It was clear his family truly didn’t lack money.

Once inside, Jiang Mian offered Chen Gu shoe covers. As for drinks—no need. The mochas were at the perfect drinking temperature, and the egg tarts were too.

However, Jiang Mian first went into his room and brought out the wrist guard, packed separately in its own box, and gave it to Chen Gu.

Chen Gu took it and opened it. The faint scent of laundry detergent wafted out. He raised an eyebrow. “You washed it?”

Jiang Mian slowly tilted his head, his brow full of confusion. “Otherwise…”

He had sweated and used this to wipe his sweat. Of course, he had to wash it.

Wouldn’t it stink otherwise?

Chen Gu gave a nonchalant curve of his lips. “Nothing.”

He closed the box and nonchalantly redirected Jiang Mian’s attention. “The egg tarts—may I try them?”

Only then did Jiang Mian remember the coffee and egg tarts he’d left on the entryway cabinet.

Though he hadn’t eaten his fill at the hotel, he couldn’t possibly finish two boxes by himself. The reason he’d specifically bought two was that he wanted to try both the original and the strawberry flavors.

Usually, he’d have to choose one or the other. But now, with Chen Gu here—

Jiang Mian carried the paper bag over to the movable coffee table and opened it, then hesitated briefly.

He didn’t know if Chen Gu liked strawberry. He should have asked.

And just as Jiang Mian was taking out the coffees, Chen Gu opened the egg tart boxes and said with a smile, “Egg tarts—it really has to be original and strawberry flavors.”

Jiang Mian paused, then nodded in agreement. He couldn’t help thinking how perfectly their tastes aligned.

The boxes and coffee cups at this shop were uniquely designed—like pieces of art, perfect for photos. That was also why the prices were so steep.

Chen Gu pulled out his phone. “Mind if I snap a photo for reference material?”

Jiang Mian shook his head. So Chen Gu adjusted the angle. He even carefully arranged the two boxes of egg tarts and two mochas, positioning them like they could be used as a product advertisement spread—making already pricey items look even pricier.

He captured the moment. Jiang Mian caught a glimpse of the photo. He felt a little tempted but also very hesitant.

Chen Gu asked him with complete naturalness, “Want me to send it to you?”

That might be crossing into slightly intimate territory. But normal friends shared things with each other too, right?

Jiang Mian thought it over and confirmed nothing had crossed any boundaries. He nodded. “Thanks.”

So Chen Gu sent the picture to their private chat window.

The egg tarts and mocha were just right to eat at that moment. The air was filled with a sweet, cloying fragrance mingling with the bitter aroma of coffee, intertwining and entangling together.

Jiang Mian always drank everything with a straw, and he had a habit of chewing on it lightly.

Now, biting down gently on his straw, he thought, perhaps their conflict hadn’t been such a bad thing.

The atmosphere between him and Chen Gu was much more harmonious than before.

Previously, he’d been unilaterally trying to avoid Chen Gu. And Chen Gu, in his eyes, had clearly been approaching him with some not-so-good intentions.

Now, Chen Gu no longer planned to do anything to Chen Yishen. He’d let go of those intentions. So Jiang Mian could also relax.

Although Chen Yishen was his friend, Jiang Mian wasn’t the type to side with someone just because they were close.

This incident had indeed been Chen Gu’s fault. But Chen Gu had both apologized to Chen Yishen and apologized to him for using him—even though Jiang Mian hadn’t taken it to heart.

Most importantly, Chen Gu was only twenty. Even successful people who’d weathered decades of life made mistakes, let alone a twenty-year-old like Chen Gu.

No one was perfect. People couldn’t stand on the sidelines and demand perfection from others.

After the two of them had shared the first box of egg tarts, Chen Gu suddenly seemed to recall something and asked lazily, “By the way, what did you mean in the car when you said you didn’t know that day was my birthday?”

For some reason, even though everything was fine, hearing this question made a warning nerve in Jiang Mian’s head instantly tighten. Alarm bells blared in his mind.

He looked at Chen Gu hesitantly. “I mean, I thought your birthday was on the same day as Chen Yishen’s.”

Chen Gu nodded, his attitude and tone completely casual and natural. “That’s a normal assumption to make.”

It was, indeed. So where was this sense of danger coming from…?

“But you seemed very bothered by it.” Chen Gu curved his eyes, a teasing note in his voice. “Don’t tell me you were planning to celebrate my birthday?”

Jiang Mian blinked.

Seeing him silent, Chen Gu laughed coldly in his heart. He was about to say something else when Jiang Mian spoke, genuinely puzzled. “Why couldn’t I celebrate your birthday?”

He said seriously, “We do know each other. And you happened to be there… it’s just that I didn’t know that day wasn’t your birthday.”

Jiang Mian was seated on a low leather ottoman in front of the sofa because it was more convenient for eating the egg tarts.

So he was sitting diagonally across from Chen Gu. With a simple downward glance, Chen Gu could see him clearly.

Because today was Tang Luji’s “age of wisdom” 50th birthday banquet, and most people in South Boundary were somewhat superstitious, Jiang Mian hadn’t worn black or white. Instead, he wore an orange T-shirt paired with camel-colored cargo pants, making him look even brighter than usual. It also softened some of his cool, aloof aura.

He sat there now, tilting his head slightly up to look at him. His willow-leaf eyes were so clear and pure that not just a drop of ink, but even a single speck of dust falling into them would be strikingly out of place.

That Jiang Mian wanted to celebrate his birthday—that was something Chen Gu had never expected.

So Chen Gu’s Adam’s apple bobbed downward. His voice unconsciously softened, though his tone still carried a teasing lilt, as if he didn’t care at all, as if he were just joking with Jiang Mian. “The way you say that, don’t tell me you actually prepared a birthday gift for me too?”

Jiang Mian was even more puzzled by this. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He genuinely thought Chen Gu was being strange. Since he’d planned to celebrate his birthday, of course he would prepare a gift. A dry, empty “Happy Birthday” would be way too half-hearted, wouldn’t it?

Even Chen Yishen got a phone. All the more so for Chen Gu.

Jiang Mian had completely failed to notice that, in his mind, his long-time buddy didn’t hold as high a place as Chen Gu.

Chen Gu paused.

This truly went beyond his expectations.

So he looked at Jiang Mian and asked softly, “Then… can I still have it now?”

Jiang Mian nodded without much hesitation. His voice was still as slow as ever. “I bought them for you anyway.”

With that, he pulled out a wet wipe to clean his hands, then got up and went into his study to fetch them.

Chen Gu had originally assumed there was only one. He hadn’t expected Jiang Mian to take out two gift bags.

The brand on these gift bags—Chen Gu knew it. And “knew it” meant expensive.

“Two?”

“Mm.”

Chen Gu was even more surprised now.

He couldn’t articulate what he was feeling inside. He only asked Jiang Mian if he could open them and look. Jiang Mian, of course, had no problem with that.

So Chen Gu carefully peeled away the well-wrapped layers of the gift bags, revealing the gift boxes inside, which had been specially cushioned for protection.

He opened the box. What met his eyes was the very same Victorian lantern music box he’d jokingly pointed out before.

Chen Gu stopped completely.

Jiang Mian watched Chen Gu’s expression with a touch of nervousness, sneaking glances at his reaction.

Chen Gu’s eyes were lowered, his beautiful, deep pupils mostly hidden by his lashes. But that didn’t stop Jiang Mian from observing.

Besides, even though an extremely complex wave of emotion seemed to surge through Chen Gu in that instant, Jiang Mian felt he probably liked it.

Because Chen Gu’s fingers traced the outer dust cover with such precious, delicate care, as if what he was unwrapping was a fragile bubble that would shatter at the slightest touch.

Chen Gu didn’t need to open the other box. He could guess what it was just by the general size. “Is that other one the bookend?”

Jiang Mian didn’t hide it. “Mm.”

His tone was still slow, and even carried a trace of embarrassment. “That one’s a little more complicated than this one. I didn’t install the lights very well…”

“It’s fine.”

Chen Gu laughed very softly, but it was a laugh from the heart. “I really like them. Thank you.”

What Jiang Mian gave Chen Yishen had been a formality. What he gave him was heartfelt.

This point filled Chen Gu with immense surprise—and it also revealed a glimmer of possibility.

Receiving the affirmation, Jiang Mian finally let out a breath of relief.

Chen Gu asked again, “What made you think to give me this?”

He was genuinely curious. “I thought you bought these for Chen Yishen.”

“…” Jiang Mian was also genuinely puzzled. “But you were the one who said it looked nice.”

He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You said it was nice, so I assumed you liked it. So I bought it.”

The logic was perfectly sound. Chen Gu had no way to refute it. Especially when Jiang Mian muttered another line. “Chen Yishen doesn’t like this kind of stuff. Giving it to him would be wasted—he wouldn’t appreciate it. A fine steed deserves a discerning master.”

Jiang Mian had gone to the mall hoping to find something different this year, thinking that giving a phone every year was a bit perfunctory.

After browsing, he felt a phone was still best.

As for Chen Gu, he’d actually initially planned to give a watch. There was a new model this year that he thought suited Chen Gu perfectly. He’d even checked online to see if it was available domestically. When he saw it wasn’t, he was about to ask his dad to have someone ship the out-of-stock model from overseas to him.

But then Chen Gu said giving a watch was bad luck. Although Jiang Mian still didn’t understand how it was bad luck, since the man said it, he could only silently cross it off the list.

“Thank you.” Chen Gu once again said it with solemnity and sincerity. “I’ll lock them in a bank safe deposit box.”

Jiang Mian: “…”

Chen Gu’s lips curved up. “Just kidding. Why do you believe everything people say?”

Jiang Mian was at a loss for words. Chen Gu then lowered his eyes. “But I genuinely do like them very much.”

He tilted his head slightly to look at Jiang Mian, his voice very soft. “This is the first time I’ve received a birthday gift since I can remember.”

If you didn’t count the cold, emotionless sums of money his biological father transferred every year, or those ignored ingratiating gestures from strangers.

Jiang Mian didn’t actually believe Chen Gu when he said this.

Because someone like Chen Gu—with those looks, that personality… if he wanted people to like him, it was a very easy thing to do.

But the problem was, hearing Chen Gu say it, seeing the genuine joy and cherished appreciation in his eyes, Jiang Mian ultimately softened. “I’m sorry. It’s a month late. It doesn’t really count as a birthday gift anymore.”

Chen Gu raised an eyebrow, half-joking. “It’s fine. From now on, today is my birthday.”

Jiang Mian: “…”

Was that something you could just decide to change?

Chen Gu said, “No one’s ever celebrated my birthday before. This is the first time someone’s done it for me. So it’s today now.”

He said it so casually, yet it carried a trace of pitifulness.

Jiang Mian’s gut told him Chen Gu was doing this on purpose. But he just couldn’t help softening. “I’ll make it up to you next year.”

Chen Gu had been waiting for exactly that sentence. He climbed right up the pole and looked at Jiang Mian pathetically. “Can’t you make it up today?”

Jiang Mian: “.”

Why did he feel like Chen Gu was even more dangerous now than before?