Chapter 20

After spending the day as a chauffeur, Jing Li declared at four in the afternoon that he had “graduated” with flying colors. He was in high spirits, and since he hadn’t been behind the wheel, his toes wiggled happily several times.

Ji Yunzhang noticed and curved his lips slightly. He thought to himself, like a child.

After resting enough, they climbed back into the car, with Jing Li taking the wheel once more.

The black Mulsanne glided through the bustling streets, turned around at the roundabout at the road’s end, and headed back the way they had come.

A red light loomed ahead, and the cars formed a long line. Jing Li gripped the steering wheel and, while waiting for the light to change, turned to Ji Yunzhang. “Do you have anything planned later?”

“Nothing.” He had set aside the entire day for Jing Li.

Jing Li smiled, his tone light and cheerful. “Have you ever been to the Flower Market?”

The topic jumped abruptly. Propping his face on one hand, Ji Yunzhang looked at him and answered first, “No.” Then he asked, “Want to go?”

The light turned green, and the line of cars began to move. Before pressing the accelerator, Jing Li winked at him. “Yeah, let’s go together. I’ve never been either.”

~~~

They followed the navigation to the Flower Market. Jing Li found a parking spot, pulled in, and they got out together.

Perhaps because dusk was falling, the market was sparsely populated. Jing Li had worried about crowds and the chance of Ji Yunzhang being recognized, even devising a few evasion tactics in his mind. Now, though, he relaxed.

Most of the flowers came from local sources. Some shops had their own flower rooms nearby and sold them freshly picked, so every bloom Jing Li passed was vibrant and fresh.

The variety here was staggering, far beyond the limited selection in typical flower shops—only the hottest sellers. It made sense; unsold flowers would wilt, turning a profit into a loss.

Jing Li didn’t know many flowers, so amid the riot of colors, he transformed into a bundle of curiosity, tugging at Ji Yunzhang and asking, “What’s this flower?” “Wow, so pretty—what’s this one?” It was utterly endearing.

Ji Yunzhang wasn’t exactly an expert, but his grandmother loved flower arranging and had planted an entire greenhouse at home. His mother was a botanist, too, so through osmosis, he knew enough to satisfy Jing Li’s questions.

Jing Li quizzed him on dozens of varieties, and Ji Yunzhang identified them all. Jing Li’s eyes sparkled like stars, bright and wondrous.

His praise was sincere. “Teacher Ji, you’re amazing.”

Ji Yunzhang’s face was hidden behind his mask, but his eyes betrayed a clear smile. He asked, “See anything you want to buy?”

They had reached the end of the market; one more step and they’d be out.

Since they were here, they might as well buy something. Jing Li’s gaze fell on a nearby shop where the sunflowers and eustomas bloomed perfectly—not the picked-over remnants. He stepped inside and ordered ten stems of each.

The shopkeeper offered to bundle them together, but Jing Li shook his head and asked for two separate bunches.

Holding both in his arms, he thanked the owner and headed out.

Ji Yunzhang waited at the entrance. Night had fallen, and the market lights had come on. His mask was pulled down to his chin, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a lit cigarette. He stood there idly under the glow, exuding a lazy charm as he took a drag.

Outside of movies, it was the first time Jing Li had seen Ji Yunzhang smoke.

He had never thought smoking was appealing and even disliked it when people lit up around him. But looking at Ji Yunzhang now, he realized he had an incurable case of double standards.

Ji Yunzhang held the cigarette between two fingers, the glowing red ember flickering amid curls of rising smoke. It was excessively sensual.

Jing Li stood there admiring him, not moving closer. But Ji Yunzhang seemed to sense it and turned, his gaze sweeping over the flowers in Jing Li’s arms. “All set?”

As he spoke, he stubbed out the cigarette in a nearby trash bin, pulled his mask back up, and strode over. He reached out to take the flowers.

Jing Li handed him only one bunch. His clear eyes reflected the lights like fallen stars. “Teacher Ji, your thank-you gift—for spending the whole day with me.”

He gave a small sniff. There was no trace of smoke on Ji Yunzhang. One cigarette apparently wasn’t enough to leave a scent.

Ji Yunzhang looked down at the flowers and couldn’t help smiling. “I like this thank-you gift.”

“As long as Teacher Ji likes it.” Jing Li’s eyes curved into happy crescents.

They walked side by side toward the parking lot. Jing Li was in high spirits, cradling his flowers in one arm while childishly stepping on shadows—first his own, then Ji Yunzhang’s.

He wasn’t sure why, but with Ji Yunzhang, he always felt utterly relaxed. He could indulge in silly, childish antics without fear of odd stares.

Ji Yunzhang’s lips curved in a smile, hidden by his mask, but his eyes—also smiling—reflected only Jing Li.

~~~

Ever since turning eighteen, Jing Li hadn’t gone home for Chinese New Year. Back in university, he always spent the holidays working part-time jobs.

—After leaving home, he never took a dime from his parents again, paying for his living expenses and tuition entirely on his own. New Year’s temp gigs paid handsomely; half a month’s work was often enough to cover a full year’s tuition.

Last year, fresh out of school, he’d signed with Kerry and passed New Year’s on a crowded film set—lively enough, all things considered.

This year was his first real solo celebration, just him and Custard Bun. On New Year’s Eve, he slept until he woke naturally, then spent half the morning cuddling the little pet as it rolled belly-up, shamelessly begging for rubs. Staring at the somewhat empty house, he suddenly wondered if he should pick up some festive goods.

Even alone, a holiday needed a touch of ceremony.

Besides…

He glanced down at Custard Bun. The dog needed a walk too. He’d only had it for half a month, and it was already plumping up!

Custard Bun planted its front paws on Jing Li’s thighs, tongue lolling out in pure goofy bliss. Oblivious to his gaze, it just wanted to play, tail whipping back and forth as it barked joyfully. “Woof! Woof! Woof!”

Jing Li couldn’t help himself and gave it another thorough rubdown. How was his boy so damn cute?

He leashed Custard Bun and tied a festive red scarf around its neck—one that was bright and cheerful. It brought out the rosy glow in the dog’s cheeks, making it look all the more radiant.

But as soon as Jing Li stepped outside, his handsome face vanished behind a mask.

With so many people off work, the markets for New Year’s goods were sure to be packed. He might be obscure enough that no one could pin him down by name, but his recent outings with Ji Yunzhang had put his face in front of enough young people to make it recognizable.

Not that he was bragging, but anyone who glanced at him a few times wouldn’t forget those features anytime soon—they were just too perfect, too distinctive!

Leading Custard Bun, Jing Li skipped the supermarket and drove to an old street that the seniors from his previous neighborhood had tipped him off about. Those elders took the New Year seriously; every holiday, their far-flung kids came home.

Maybe even the heavens approved of the festive reunions—the weather was perfect that day, mild and pleasant, nothing like the biting cold of the past couple days. The streets teemed with even more shoppers.

Jing Li got stuck on the auxiliary road, idling for a full ten minutes while the car ahead reversed and turned.

In the back seat, Custard Bun kept shoving its head toward the cracked-open window, desperate to play wind-dog, paws scrabbling wildly at the door.

Spotting the scratches on the door panel, Jing Li squeezed his eyes shut, his heart aching. He was half-tempted to yank his dog son over and give that butt a good whack.

Ji Yunzhang had assigned him this car—not as flashy as the Bentley Mulsanne, far more understated, but still worth north of two million. One scratch like that ran into the tens of thousands.

Such a wasteful little monster!

Custard Bun, of course, was clueless about its dad’s anguish, still yapping away and bouncing gleefully across the genuine leather seats.

Jing Li: “…”

Easy now. Stay calm. He had fifty million in the bank these days.

He parked, then led Custard Bun out. For all its pampered life under Jing Li’s care, the former stray dog stayed instinctively wary in crowds: ears pricked high, tail tucked, never straying an inch from his side.

The street brimmed with every shop imaginable. Jing Li wandered and paused, picking up spring couplets, paper window cutouts, lanterns, candies, dried fruits… Not a ton of each, but it all added up.

One hand swinging bags, the other gripping the leash—even masked, his tall stature and long legs drew the eye, those exquisite brows and eyes peeking out like a fine painting. He shone too brightly amid the throng, standing out like a crane in a flock of hens.

Jing Li overheard people murmuring about him.

As he wrapped up and headed for the car, a girl got shoved forward by her friends. Blushing furiously, she asked for his contact info.

Jing Li admired her nerve and turned her down gently. “Not convenient, sorry. Thanks for the interest.”

What Jing Li didn’t know was that someone had deliberately snapped a photo of him chatting with the girl. That very afternoon, it landed anonymously in Ji Yunzhang’s inbox.

The email closed with a zinger: He’s out on a date with some girl—the player’s got game. You’d happily wear the green hat for that?