“Welcome.”
A pretty server stood at the hotel entrance, bowing at a forty-five-degree angle.
Liang Zhixia looked up at the hotel’s name—xx International Hotel. It sounded pretty upscale.
The hotel’s interior was lavishly decorated, with the most eye-catching feature being a slogan hanging prominently.
【The customer is God. We serve wholeheartedly.】
He rubbed his fingertips together. This didn’t seem like something Ji Zhaohao and his crew could afford.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he heard Yellow Hair stirring up trouble.
Yellow Hair jiggled his leg, pointing at the female server and yelling loudly, “Hey! Where’s your hotel manager? She didn’t bow at ninety degrees! Is this how your hotel treats esteemed guests?”
His obvious lackeys chimed in noisily, fanning the flames.
“Yeah, what kind of hotel is this?”
“You aren’t looking down on us, are you?”
There were plenty of guests in the lobby who had come for dinner. They huddled together, whispering. Liang Zhixia frowned and edged away from the group, but he knew the hotel manager would show up soon.
Sure enough, the manager’s first move upon appearing was to soothe every customer’s emotions.
The hotel manager was tall and skinny, with droopy eyes that gave him a shifty-eyed, macho look.
After understanding the situation, he didn’t ask many questions. He simply grabbed the server’s neck and forced her into a ninety-degree bow.
From Liang Zhixia’s angle, he could easily see the bulging veins on the manager’s arm and the tears dropping to the floor from the server.
It was clear just how much force the manager had used.
Yellow Hair and the other guys laughed and joked around. Ji Zhaohao suddenly coughed. Yellow Hair ran a hand through his hair and said magnanimously, “Alright, alright, no next time! My bros and I will be coming here to eat a lot from now on!”
“Thank you for forgiving her,” the manager said, finally releasing his grip. He wore a smiling face, but then he turned to the server with a stern expression. “Well? Thank the guests!”
The female server dug her fingertips into her palm to stifle her sobs. She took a deep breath and said, “Thank you.”
Yellow Hair grinned. “No problem, little beauty.”
Liang Zhixia’s frown deepened. If not for needing that photo, he would have turned and walked out right then.
Ji Zhaohao and the others had apparently reserved a spot in advance—Azure Luan Hall on the third floor.
Liang Zhixia trailed behind them. As he passed the female server, he paused and handed her a clean tissue.
He said nothing, but the server stared blankly at the tissue in her hand. By the time she looked up to follow him, all she could see was his tall, slender back.
Azure Luan Hall on the third floor.
Once the ushering server left, Yellow Hair and the others stepped aside to let Ji Zhaohao push open the door.
Ji Zhaohao raised an eyebrow and deliberately glanced at Liang Zhixia. He chuckled. “You guys didn’t prepare some surprise for me, did you?”
Yellow Hair shoved him playfully with a grin. “Just open the door and find out!”
Liang Zhixia had never been to a birthday party, but he’d seen this trope plenty of times in TV dramas—the birthday boy pushing open the door to “surprises.” They were rarely good ones.
He quietly stepped back, positioning himself behind a large potted plant.
Right on cue, Ji Zhaohao pushed the door open, and a barrage of “magical attacks” flew at him.
Party poppers, confetti streamers, and colorful string sprays—red and green strands clung to Ji Zhaohao’s hair and clothes like sticky threads.
“…”
Yellow Hair and the others standing beside Ji Zhaohao got splattered too. He jumped up and sprayed the two guys holding the cans.
“Who told you to buy this crap?”
The two exchanged glances. “It was super cheap on PXX. We stocked up a ton.”
The lackeys behind Yellow Hair grimaced and snatched the cans, spraying everyone inside the door as well.
Almost everyone ended up draped in the garish, multicolored streamers.
The spray string was a nightmare to clean and reeked to high heaven.
Only then did Liang Zhixia slowly emerge from behind the potted plant. He stepped carefully over the sticky strands on the floor, stopping on a clean patch.
Ji Zhaohao faced a mirror, his expression dark as he picked the streamers out of his hair.
He turned and spotted the spotless Liang Zhixia. His brow furrowed, his narrow eyes narrowing menacingly. His tone was aggressive. “Why don’t you have any on you?”
“???”
Liang Zhixia was baffled. Why would he have any?
He looked at Ji Zhaohao like he was an idiot. “Did you leave your brain at home? No, wait—you don’t have one to begin with.”
He wanted that photo, but he wasn’t about to swallow his pride for it.
Ji Zhaohao froze at the retort, his eyes widening in surprise. He’d never imagined his cheap brother had the guts to talk back like that.
In his limited memory, this cheap brother of his was timid, avoided trouble, and was a total pushover.
He said sinisterly, “Looks like you’ve learned a lot in college.”
Liang Zhixia’s mind flashed to Lu Quan’s face. He had indeed picked up a few things.
Like how Lu Quan bluffed people with a straight face.
Ji Zhaohao swallowed his anger and lashed out at a lackey instead, kicking him. “Is this how you handle things?”
The lackey looked confused. “We did exactly what you guys wanted—make our bro feel the birthday enthusiasm!”
Liang Zhixia arched a brow. Under Ji Zhaohao’s murderous glare, he enunciated clearly, “Thanks. I felt the enthusiasm.”
Ji Zhaohao and Yellow Hair’s faces turned an assortment of green and blue, shifting like a chameleon on a paint palette.
Liang Zhixia felt a lot better.
The group of delinquents, still festooned with colorful streamers, grumbled as they filed into the private room. A massive round table dominated the center, adorned with fake flowers and plants. On one side sat a large projector and speakers.
Liang Zhixia frowned and skirted the sticky streamers on the floor. Once inside, he noticed a smaller table holding a towering, multi-tiered cake.
His suspicions deepened.
When the servers brought out the full spread of dishes—abalone, king crab, and more—his doubts peaked.
The two guys with the spray cans had said the stuff was cheap on PXX, which meant none of their families were rich. Yet they’d booked a place like this, complete with an expensive-looking cake and this lavish meal.
He’d never eaten it himself, but he’d heard the prices.
Ji Zhaohao’s father was a researcher with a decent salary, but he was notoriously stingy. Otherwise, they wouldn’t still be living in that abandoned small house.
Liang Zhixia’s gaze swept over everyone. From their clothes to their speech, no one screamed money.
He was confident in spotting broke people. He’d never been rich, but he’d been dirt poor.
So who was footing this bill?
As he pondered with a furrowed brow, the others at the table had already started eating and drinking. The little punks devoured everything without manners—chopsticks flying everywhere, food scattering.
They acted like they hadn’t eaten in years, snatching dishes and even pulling plates right in front of themselves.
Only he, Ji Zhaohao, and Yellow Hair hadn’t touched their chopsticks.
Yellow Hair swirled the red wine in his tall glass mysteriously, then turned to Liang Zhixia with relish. “Brother not eating a bite?”
No sooner had he spoken than a chicken head landed in front of him.
Ji Zhaohao’s face was icy. “Who told you to call him brother?”
Yellow Hair took a sip of wine and raised his hands with a cheeky grin. “Fine, bro. I’ll call him bro.”
Liang Zhixia took a deep breath. Zhang Mi had said to accompany Ji Zhaohao for his birthday.
So as long as he was here, that should suffice. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing the messy table coldly. His fingertips tapped lightly on his thigh as his mind wandered. He kind of missed the meals made by Lu Quan’s aunt.
These past few days, he’d been crashing at Lu Quan’s place. Though Lu Quan had said no need for a housekeeper, he’d hired an auntie anyway. She came midday and evening to cook and clean the house spotless.
Liang Zhixia had been living like a total freeloader—no thinking, no chores. Wake up to food, thirsty for water, tired for bed.
He’d also discovered Lu Quan knew how to live well. While helping the auntie clean one time, he’d spotted a huge bathtub in the master bath. Soaking in that had to feel amazing.
He’d never bathed in a tub before—only in a baby basin as a kid.
That tub looked big enough for one person. Two would be cramped. When he realized what he was thinking, his face flushed, and he bolted out.
That night, when Lu Quan called, he didn’t pick up, claiming he was sleepy.
He’d forgotten about the surveillance cameras in his room. Lu Quan had seen every expression and reaction from the other end.
“What are you thinking about?”
Ji Zhaohao’s grating voice pulled him back. Liang Zhixia turned coolly to face him, lips parting. “None of your business.”
It was clearly an insult, yet Ji Zhaohao felt his heart race inexplicably. A strange mix of excitement and irritation surged in his chest.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, continuing to stare at his cheap brother.
This Cheap Brother had truly given him plenty of surprises this time around.
He was looking forward to whatever came next.
After some indeterminate time had passed, the large round table had devolved into an unrecognizable mess. Every dish had been picked over, with scraps scattered everywhere, and bottles of red wine, white liquor, and beer stood open all around.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed. Liang Zhixia’s arm was seized in a tight grip. The other person’s strength was immense. Just as he started to struggle free, Ji Zhaohao’s voice rang out.
“Don’t move. Sing me happy birthday. If you do, I’ll get my mom to give you the photo.”
Liang Zhixia was forced to stand beside Ji Zhaohao. Gritting his teeth, he mumbled through a few lines of the birthday song.
Ji Zhaohao blew out the candles. Before Liang Zhixia could react, the other guys seemed to have planned it in advance. They grabbed handfuls of cake and smashed them right onto him.
“…”
Standing so close to Ji Zhaohao put Liang Zhixia in extreme peril. Seizing the chaos, he swiped a huge chunk with a knife and smeared it all over Ji Zhaohao’s face before bolting out of the danger zone.
He paused in place for a moment, then headed toward the restrooms based on his memory of the layout.
The bathroom lights blazed brightly. He turned on the faucet and thrust his arm under the stream, rubbing his fingers together to scrub off the cream he’d accidentally gotten on them.
Abruptly, the bathroom door swung open. He glanced up into the mirror and locked eyes with Ji Zhaohao’s reflection.
Lowering his gaze, he shut off the faucet and shook the water droplets from his hand.
Ji Zhaohao just stood there, watching his Cheap Brother shake off the water. That arm was pale and smooth as jade. He recalled the feel of it earlier when he’d gripped it—silky and delicate to the touch.
It was the kind of sensation that left you craving more, utterly addictive.
Without thinking, he reached out to grab that arm again, but Liang Zhixia dodged away.
Disgust flickered in Liang Zhixia’s eyes. In a cold voice, he said, “I’ve celebrated your birthday. Can I have the photo now?”
Earlier, while standing next to Ji Zhaohao, he’d spotted the photo poking out of the guy’s pocket.
Ji Zhaohao withdrew his hand casually, his expression darkening. “It’s not over yet, my brother.”
Every time Ji Zhaohao called him “brother,” Liang Zhixia wanted to sew that mouth shut. It was utterly revolting.
He turned and headed for the door. The outer lights were still off, but the projector had come on, displaying song lyrics.
This group had turned the place into a full-blown karaoke joint, blasting music at top volume.
Liang Zhixia frowned and retreated to a corner.
But some people just wouldn’t leave him alone.
Yellow Hair sauntered over with a glass of wine—red wine—and held it out. “Brother, looks like you haven’t eaten a thing today. We can’t have you saying we were poor hosts. Have a drink.”
Liang Zhixia had never touched alcohol and had no interest in it. He turned his head away and said coldly, “No thanks.”
Yellow Hair tossed back the contents of the glass in one gulp. Unconsciously, Liang Zhixia shifted farther aside. He couldn’t stand the stench of booze on drinkers.
His distaste was plain as day on his face. Yellow Hair, thoroughly sloshed and wobbling on his feet, grinned maliciously and jabbed a finger at him. “Fine, you were given an inch and took a mile, huh? Brothers, crank up that video—max volume!”
