Chapter 70: Anomalous Time 36

People could lie and put on facades, but a puppy’s instincts couldn’t be faked.

Chang Baoqin had just finished psyching herself up, convinced that years of companionship would outmatch this family of sudden arrivals. But when she saw the corgi leap deftly into the little boy’s arms, she felt chilled from head to toe in an instant.

This, this, this—it was obvious they’d been raising it outside for who knew how long, deliberately keeping it away from home!

No, perhaps only they had been kept in the dark all along. It wasn’t until they received the message yesterday that they panicked and scrambled for an excuse to come snoop around.

Who knew, maybe even the maid they’d bribed was already part of the old master’s scheme!

Chang Baoqin suddenly lost all composure. Her heart sank completely, and she finally felt as if the world had turned upside down.

Meanwhile, Zhang Yizhe, whose arms were left empty, felt a surge of intense anger. With Grandpa right there beside him, he struggled to suppress his ugly expression, forced a smile, and walked toward the other little boy.

“Little Hang, then shall we play together…”

But the boy, who looked even younger than him, treated him like air. Clutching Zhang Wei, he turned his face away and asked the little girl beside him, “Sister, are you full? Want to go play with Zhang Wei?”

The little girl nodded. “Sure, let’s go play over there. We won’t disturb Dad and Grandpa while they eat.”

Their voices weren’t loud, nearly drowned out by the lively restaurant, but they carried just far enough for Zhang Yizhe, who had walked right up, to hear every word clearly.

The two children then got up together, not sparing a single glance at the other boy who had approached them.

As Little Hang passed Zhang Yizhe, still holding the corgi, he deliberately stomped hard on Zhang Yizhe’s foot, even grinding his heel back and forth a few times. Zhang Yizhe’s shiny black leather shoe instantly turned dusty and gray.

Zhang Yizhe gasped in pain, digging his nails into his palm to keep from crying out on the spot.

It hurt so much!

They were just as arrogant as their father, just as overbearing!

At the same time, though, he felt a spark of excitement. He instinctively turned to call out to Grandpa, wanting him to see the true colors of these two little bastards.

But as the words reached the tip of his tongue, Zhang Yizhe realized that Zhang Yunjiang was deep in quiet conversation with the person beside him and hadn’t glanced their way at all.

Instead, the young man with brown hair next to him shot a look over.

As his light brown eyes swept past the grimacing Zhang Yizhe, a flash of cold menace gleamed in them.

Yet his voice carried a gentle laugh.

He said to Zhang Yunjiang, “Zhang Wei seems to really like Little Hang.”

The old man wore a pure, genuine smile. “Yes, I like Little Hang too! He’s got great intuition, just like Little Xi. But he must already have a teacher, and his skills are already quite good, so I didn’t want to impose by offering to teach him.”

The brown-haired young man thought for a moment before replying, “Even if you don’t teach him, you could still play Go together. Little Hang loves Go; he’d definitely want to play with you.”

“Really?” The old man paused, then beamed even more happily. “That’s wonderful! It’s rare to find kids these days who are real Go fanatics!”

Overhearing all this, Zhang Yizhe panicked. He mustered his courage, dashed over, and blurted out, “Grandpa, I like Go too! I want to play with you—”

The little boy didn’t finish. The young man smilingly cut him off.

“Huh, what happened to your shoe?” He noticed Zhang Yizhe’s footwear and asked in a tone of surprise. “Did you step in a mud puddle by accident?”

Zhang Yunjiang at the head table looked over as well and frowned. “How did it get so dirty?”

Zhang Yizhe had no choice but to drop what he’d been saying. He hurriedly explained, “Mom bought these new shoes for me. They were perfectly clean at first, but then I got—”

He knew Grandpa was a stickler for etiquette and was probably displeased right now, thinking he’d embarrassed himself in front of others.

But the little boy’s words were interrupted once more by that same clear voice.

“Uncle Zhang, don’t blame him. Kids get playful; it’s perfectly normal.”

The young man’s voice was warm and bright, full of gentle tolerance. But the gaze he turned their way was icy cold, forming a stark contrast with his handsome features—a terrifying pressure.

Zhang Yunjiang couldn’t see his eyes, but Zhang Yizhe could, crystal clear.

He stumbled back a few steps, abandoning any thought of explaining. Shivering, he stammered, “I… I’ll go clean my shoe.”

The thoroughly cowed little boy turned and ran off. The old man blinked in surprise, then shook his head. “Sigh, what a kid—no manners!”

As he watched Zhang Yizhe’s retreating back, his expression revealed clear dissatisfaction and disappointment. The group of relatives watching from afar went even paler.

Yu Bai’s gaze swept over their ugly expressions, then exchanged a knowing look with the two children in the restaurant corner. Only then did he withdraw his eyes, feeling utterly pleased.

He casually picked up the glass right in front of him, downed the liquor inside, and felt the warmth slide down his throat—slightly bitter, but soothing.

The thrill of a secret prank felt amazing.

Once his glass was empty, Butler Uncle Ah, seated across from him, passed over a freshly warmed pot of hot liquor.

Yu Bai took it with a smile, feeling lighter and more carefree than he had in ages.

He definitely wasn’t drunk now—his mind was clear, and he hadn’t done anything odd.

He just really wanted to chat with someone.

So Yu Bai took the initiative to pour a drink for the old man beside him and casually asked, “Uncle Zhang, why did you name that corgi Zhang Wei? Is there some special reason?”

Amid the rising aroma of the liquor, Zhang Yunjiang looked surprised and curious. “Huh? Why do you ask?”

“It doesn’t seem like your style,” Yu Bai said honestly. “I figured you’d pick characters or phrases from ancient poetry to name a puppy.”

His tone was straightforward, revealing unmasked puzzlement, and his eyes were so bright and pure. Zhang Yunjiang pondered briefly before chuckling. “You know, if it were up to me, I probably would.”

“You’re sharp, Little Doctor Yu. I didn’t come up with the name Zhang Wei.”

The old man smiled as he answered, “And it’s not even the first Zhang Wei!”

Yu Bai blinked in confusion. “Not the first?”

“That’s right. If I remember correctly, this is the third dog named Zhang Wei.” Zhang Yunjiang glanced at Butler Uncle Ah beside him. “Right, Uncle Ah?”

Butler Uncle Ah nodded in confirmation. “Third generation! This one’s the cutest yet!”

The two old men seemed to recall something fond and both laughed. Zhang Yunjiang’s gaze quietly swept over his children and grandchildren, each wearing different expressions around the table.

“I remember back then, it was trendy to name kids things like Wei or Yong,” the old man said in a distant tone. “That day, I brought home a stray dog from outside. The kids crowded around excitedly, clamoring to give it a bath and name it.”

“I’m not sure who suggested Zhang Wei, but everyone burst out laughing. I don’t care for such ordinary names and wouldn’t name a child that way, but they were so happy, so I agreed.”

“And so, the family ended up with a stray dog named Zhang Wei. Later, one of its puppies stayed, still called Zhang Wei, and now the third generation carries the same name.”

The silver-haired old man’s eyes flowed with the passage of years as he smiled faintly. “But times have changed. Now they think the name sounds tacky and have asked me several times to rename it.”

Days marched on relentlessly. Times changed, and the once innocent children had changed too.

The even more aged Uncle Ah beside him chimed in with a laugh. “Well, things are different today. The weather’s changed, and so have they. Who knows, maybe they’ll like the name again now!”

Amid the seemingly warm and harmonious banquet, the elders remained oblivious to the undercurrents swirling behind the scenes.

Yu Bai caught the faint regret lingering behind the old man’s casual words. He comforted him earnestly, “Zhang Wei is a great name.”

He didn’t bring up his entirely fabricated grandfather again. Instead, he quietly thought of his long-absent father and said from the heart, “Uncle Zhang, you’re a really great father. Truly.”

In this beautiful, grand courtyard, every room was meticulously prepared with things young people liked—spotless and fresh, always ready for the children’s return.

Amid the lush green trees stood a brown-furred little dog forever named Zhang Wei.

Zhang Yunjiang didn’t respond. He lowered his head, his slightly trembling fingers lifting his glass. He drained it in one gulp before rasping, “Ahem, this liquor has a fine taste!”

Some emotions simply couldn’t be put into words.

Yu Bai raised his own glass as well. Amid a mix of emotions, he drank it down with him.

Yan Jing, who had been seated next to Yuan Yuxing, was focused on his food and hadn’t caught their conversation clearly. But he saw the motions and instinctively advised, “Little Bai, go easy on the drinks!”

Yu Bai, mid-conversation with the old man, didn’t hear. But the man beside him turned back with a glance.

Suddenly meeting those cold, heterochromatic eyes—even with two empty seats between them—Yan Jing shuddered on instinct. Without thinking, he backpedaled. “Pretend I didn’t say that. Drink as you like!”

When they first sat down, there had still been two kids between him and Xie Wufang, so he’d boldly taken the seat.

He hadn’t expected Yuan Yuxing and He Xi to suddenly run off to play with the dog. Now forced to face Xie Wufang directly, Yan Jing felt immense pressure. Even the feast on the table lost its appeal.

…Maybe he should go play with Zhang Wei too?

Timid Yan Jing instantly chickened out, already inching his butt away from the chair to put some distance between himself and it. But the sharp-sensed non-human wasn’t about to let him slip away that easily.

Xie Wufang had caught the tension in his eyes when he’d called out to Yu Bai earlier. In a flat voice, he asked, “Why?”

Yan Jing froze, scared stiff as he stammered back, “Huh? W-What why?”

He was already scraming like a good boy—did the guy really need to ask for reasons too?

The black-haired, blue-eyed man’s expression turned icy as he frowned, clearly reluctant to even speak with him but reining in his obvious disgust for some reason.

Xie Wufang phrased the question more fully, his tone even colder. “Why tell him to drink less?”

Only then did Yan Jing realize what he was asking. He let out a sigh of relief at first, only to tense up again on pins and needles.

How was he supposed to answer that one?

He had no clue what Xie Wufang’s intentions were.

Was he curious about why Yu Bai couldn’t hold his liquor, or did he just find the meddling annoying?

“Uh, b-because…”

Yan Jing’s mind raced as he subconsciously scooted a little closer to the empty seat, afraid that talking from afar might come off as disrespectful.

…Damn, why was he acting like such a bootlicker around this guy?

Cursing himself inwardly, Yan Jing nonetheless answered in a very sycophantic whisper, “Because Little Bai isn’t great with alcohol. I’m afraid he’ll get wasted.”

“Wasted?”

“Yeah, I remember he gets drunk pretty easily.” Now even closer to Xie Wufang, Yan Jing said tremulously, “And if he passes out, someone has to take care of him. That’d be a hassle for you.”

Yu Bai and Xie Wufang shared the same suite in Room 1105. If he came back sloshed later, his roommate would definitely have to deal with it.

Sighing inwardly at the thought of that game console in the suite he’d never touch again, Yan Jing’s face fell with unconscious melancholy.

Xie Wufang eyed his rather bitter expression, a flicker of concern crossing his gaze. “Is getting drunk that bad?”

If Yu Bai had heard the question, he would’ve instantly realized that Xie Wufang had no idea what being drunk even meant.

Tonight’s god was tasting even the bitterness of alcohol for the first time, so he naturally couldn’t grasp the concept of intoxication. He might even equate it to human illness.

But Yu Bai was deep in conversation with the old man and hadn’t noticed the exchange beside him.

Thick-skinned as ever, Yan Jing interpreted it in the usual way and shook his head repeatedly. “No, no, no—Little Bai’s pretty well-behaved when drunk. No need to worry too much.”

At least in his memory, Little Bai never went totally wild when wasted. He just…

Xie Wufang prompted, “Well-behaved?”

Yan Jing pondered how best to put it.

He wasn’t even sure how to describe Little Bai’s drunken state accurately.

Yu Bai rarely drank, and got drunk even less often. The one time Yan Jing had witnessed it firsthand was at their college graduation send-off.

They’d both gotten into the same university—Yu Bai on academics, him on sports. Yan Jing visited constantly, eventually befriending Yu Bai’s dorm mates too. By graduation, they all dragged him along for drinks.

That night at a roadside barbecue joint off-campus, the guys from the dorm—plus a few other buddies—clutched cold beer cans amid the sweltering summer breeze, reminiscing about the past four years and dreaming of what lay ahead.

Even if they weren’t as tight as him and Yan Jing, Yu Bai still felt a pang of sentiment. He drank heavily and got smashed quick.

What exactly happened after he passed out was fuzzy for Yan Jing too—he’d been hammered himself. No one went berserk, but quite a few ended up flushed red.

One thing he would never forget, though: Shortly after that bash, two girls from the group confessed to Yu Bai.

Gossip hound that he was, Yan Jing had long known plenty of girls crushed on Little Bai. But with everyone going their separate ways, he’d figured those crushes would stay unspoken.

Sure, Little Bai seemed mild and approachable, but he kept sky-high walls up, quietly shutting out almost everyone without showing his true self.

Except around an obvious meathead like Yan Jing.

Predictably, Yu Bai turned down the two girls with his usual gentle kindness.

But unexpectedly, soon after the party, one of his male dorm mates confessed too.

When Yan Jing heard, he smacked his thigh in shock. “Holy shit! So that’s why he kept asking if I was straight—he saw me as a rival! I was always hanging around the dance academy next door, practically glued to their gate. Does that even need asking?!”

Yu Bai had been skeptical. “Didn’t feel that way to me. And even if he did like me, why spill it right before we all split up? We’re not even in the same city anymore.”

Then realization dawned. “…I get it. He wasn’t hitting me up for cash, was he?!”

“…” Yan Jing went quiet for once, lighting a candle for the guy in his mind. “Not impossible. Gotta watch for those pig-butchering scams. Uncle Li would be proud of your scam radar.”

Those confessions all happened post-party, after their friends had hauled the totally blacked-out Yu Bai back. Sensing something off, he’d asked Yan Jing anxiously, “Did I do something to them while wasted? Remember anything?”

Yan Jing racked his brain and answered honestly, “Nah? Just normal chatting, I think. Details are hazy, but the vibe was great.”

The usually aloof young man turned chatty when drunk, his gaze clear and soft, mind mostly sharp. He didn’t seem wasted and refused to admit it.

It was more like he’d rarely opened up, rambling on with a crisp smile, those pretty light eyes fixed intently on whoever he was talking to—like they were the only two people in the world, everything else irrelevant. It gave the illusion of being singled out from the crowd.

Yan Jing vaguely suspected that was why those flushed classmates mustered the courage afterward.

It didn’t faze him, though.

Little Bai had always babied him.

Besides, he was one hundred percent straight!

So… how to describe Little Bai’s behavior when drunk?

To onlookers, Yan Jing—standing low-key like a bodyguard beside the black-haired, blue-eyed man, whispering reports—suddenly looked stumped.

He couldn’t exactly regurgitate that whole backstory to Xie Wufang, could he?

Besides, he didn’t feel close enough to this intimidating non-human to share personal stuff like that.

It felt downright weird, like chatting with an untouchable deity about dinner plans.

After a moment’s hesitation, Yan Jing settled on, “When Little Bai overdoes it, he insists he’s fine, gets super chatty, maybe a bit clingy… But it’s no big deal. Easy to handle. If he wants to drink, let him—he looks happy right now.”

This wasn’t some young folks’ rager with secret admirers around. No issues there.

With that, Yan Jing fully relaxed and added a tip for Yu Bai’s current roommate. “If he grabs you for a post-dinner chat back at the room, just feed him some nonsense or ignore him till he crashes. He won’t remember come morning anyway.”

Xie Wufang listened quietly. The worry in his eyes faded, replaced by that instinctive revulsion surging fiercely in his gray-blue depths.

Report done, Yan Jing stayed frozen, waiting obediently for the ancestor’s response—secretly hoping, against all odds.

He vaguely recalled Xie Wufang being polite before.

Maybe a thanks?

After a brief silence, the sycophant’s head was met with a cool voice.

The man’s face was impassive. “This is He Xi’s seat.”

“…Got it, heading back now!”

Yan Jing dashed his own delusions and scurried to his original spot, practically thanking the lord for mercy.

At least Xie Wufang hadn’t kicked him out of the restaurant.

Sigh. In life, contentment was key.

The commotion finally drew Yu Bai’s curious glance.

Were they talking?

But Xie Wufang had been so standoffish with others tonight.

Puzzled, Yu Bai looked over to find Yan Jing—three seats away—happily devouring his lavish dinner, his face lit with odd gratitude and relish.

Xie Wufang, right beside him, stared down at the tiny white porcelain cup on the table, lost in thought. Noticing Yu Bai’s gaze, he met it and asked softly, “What’s wrong?”

Yu Bai blanked on what he’d meant to say, blinking before breaking into a smile. “Nothing.”

He tilted his face up to gaze at Xie Wufang, who stood right before him, his voice brimming with lighthearted amusement. “You don’t like bitter tastes anyway, so stop looking at it.”

As Yu Bai spoke, he casually picked up the wine cup. Sure enough, the man who disliked bitter flavors obediently averted his gaze.

Xie Wufang no longer stared at the orange-hued wine with its hazy glow inside the white porcelain cup. Nor did he try to stop the person beside him—the one chatting and laughing happily—from taking another drink.

Instead, he asked, “Are you drunk?”

This perfectly ordinary question drew the classic response from a drunkard.

At those words, the man with flushed cheeks blinked. His thick eyelashes, dark as crow feathers, fluttered gently like a tiny fan beneath the dim yellow lamplight.

Under those trembling lashes, his warm light-brown eyes fixed intently on the questioner. With absolute seriousness, he replied, “I’m not drunk.”