Song Zichu followed at a distance that was neither too close nor too far.
Lai Li felt an inexplicable irritability at that moment, his brows furrowed tightly. Ever since they parted at Cloud Summit last time, he hadn’t seen Dai Linxuan for several days.
Dai Linxuan had just returned to the country, and his own company had a pile of matters to handle, plus he was about to join the board of directors at Dai Group. He was so busy that his feet barely touched the ground, leaving Lai Li with no chance to even chat with him.
He dialed a number and got straight to the point: “Where are you?”
Dai Linxuan said, “Having dinner with someone.”
Lai Li listened to the sounds on the other end and narrowed his eyes. “Why do I hear a man’s voice?”
Dai Linxuan replied flatly, “Isn’t it normal for there to be men at a dinner like this?”
Lai Li let out a cold laugh. “I’m not a three-year-old kid—don’t fucking brush me off! Does that sound like a normal man’s voice? Calling you ‘President Dai’ all coquettishly like that—what’s the difference from a duck?”
A faint sigh came through the earpiece, dissipating soon after, as if it had been an illusion.
Dai Linxuan said, “Lai Li, no brother needs to report this kind of thing in detail to his little brother.”
Lai Li stopped in his tracks abruptly. Song Zichu, who was behind him, also halted. Under the streetlamp from the school path, he saw Lai Li’s face darken instantly.
“Brother? That day with those few—” Lai Li took a deep breath and asked coldly, “Do you see me as your little brother?”
“And what do you see me as?” Dai Linxuan countered from the other end.
Lai Li subconsciously wanted to answer. Wasn’t it obvious? For twelve years, they’d always gotten along as brothers—surely that hadn’t changed all of a sudden.
But for some reason, he sensed something suppressed and on the verge of erupting beneath Dai Linxuan’s calm tone. A thick wave of palpitation surged in his chest, nearly drowning him.
Dai Linxuan was actually in a formal private room at a high-end Chinese restaurant. To his left sat President Tang from Jiangfeng Architecture, and to his right was a strange young man who bore one or two points of resemblance to Lai Li, though their temperaments were completely different.
When Dai Linxuan took the call, the young man said nothing and simply stood silently to refill Dai Linxuan’s wine glass.
“Don’t touch him,” came Lai Li’s unreasonable demand from the phone. “Come pick me up tonight.”
Dai Linxuan glanced at the boy beside him—not harshly, but the boy still flinched and took a step back.
Dai Linxuan rejected Lai Li’s request. “Your military training isn’t over yet.”
Lai Li scoffed. “Do I need military training?”
Dai Linxuan closed his eyes briefly before saying in an unquestionable tone, “As a freshman, you should stay on campus except during holidays—”
Beep beep.
Lai Li hung up directly.
In twelve years, Dai Linxuan had rarely refused Lai Li’s requests, especially something so minor. Not only did Lai Li find it unacceptable, but Dai Linxuan also needed time to adjust.
Tang Xueda on the side smiled without comment, not mentioning the call at all. He just called to the boy, “Xiao Zhou, why don’t you toast President Dai?”
Xiao Zhou was already flushed from the alcohol, unable to hold his liquor well. “President Dai, I’ve always admired you. Here’s a toast to you—wishing you good health and all the best!”
Such a toast at a business dinner sounded clumsy and foolish, but the upside was that it made superiors feel they had the upper hand, satisfying their desire for control or superiority.
Dai Linxuan didn’t make things hard for him and downed the shot of baijiu from the small cup. “Aren’t you tired standing? Sit down.”
Xiao Zhou hesitated a bit, and Tang Xueda laughed. “You’re young, and President Dai is being considerate.”
Only then did Xiao Zhou sit back down. “Thank you, President Dai.”
Dai Linxuan smiled faintly. “Where did you find this one, President Tang?”
Tang Xueda stood and refilled both his own glass and Dai Linxuan’s. “Xiao Zhou is my new assistant. The moment I saw him, he looked familiar. Hey, I racked my brains for a good while before slapping my thigh—it hit me that this kid looks a bit like Little Chestnut! So, I brought him over for you to take a look.”
Dai Linxuan pretended not to understand. “Your man—why would I need to inspect him?”
Tang Xueda lifted his small cup and pushed it forward. “If President Dai thinks Xiao Zhou has decent skills, you could take him under your wing and train him up. He’s young and green—needs an excellent mentor.”
Dai Linxuan’s lips curved slightly. “Would President Tang be willing to part with him?”
Tang Xueda said, “If President Dai likes him, I’d have to let him go!”
Dai Linxuan remained seated while Tang Xueda stood, so to toast, he had to bend at the waist. But even as his fingers went numb, Dai Linxuan didn’t take the glass.
Tang Xueda’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced at Xiao Zhou, who instantly got the hint. The boy stood, poured another glass, and said to Dai Linxuan, “President Dai, I—”
Dai Linxuan raised his hand to block his approach, pulled out a handkerchief to dab at his mouth, and said mildly, “Mind if I ask—what rumors did you hear to set up this little show today?”
—
Song Zichu blocked Lai Li, who wanted to pay. “Let me treat you—”
Lai Li dodged his touch. “Instead of wasting time on this nonsense, hurry up and save up fifty thousand to pay me back.”
The window clerk said, “You two total…”
Lai Li cut her off impatiently. “Just me.”
The clerk paused. “Twenty-eight.”
Song Zichu: “…”
Lai Li swiped his meal card for twenty-eight and sat at a random spot. Predictably, Song Zichu paid and followed. “Can I sit here?”
Lai Li glanced at him.
“Thanks so much for that night,” Song Zichu said, sensing Lai Li’s lack of welcome. He wisely planned to switch seats after speaking.
Lai Li lowered his gaze and slurped some noodles.
That night at Cloud Summit, he’d slapped Dai Linxuan before returning to the private room to drink for a long time. He didn’t leave until after midnight and happened to see Song Zichu in his server uniform, his shoulder gripped forcefully by a heavily made-up man dragging him toward a room.
—A classic cliché: a poor student from a tough background sneaks out for a night shift, only to attract a lecherous guest. He wanted to refuse but feared losing the job, trapped in a dilemma.
Worst of all, his future roommate of four years witnessed it.
Lai Li had watched them tussle at the door for a full three minutes before casually intervening. After hearing the details, he’d surprisingly been accommodating and lent Song Zichu fifty thousand to cover his living expenses.
It had to be repaid, but at least now he had the confidence to quit if something similar happened again.
“Sit,” Lai Li suddenly relented and asked, “If I hadn’t stepped in that day, how were you planning to handle it?”
Song Zichu turned and sat down with a sigh. “I probably would’ve punched him, then ended up in a holding cell for a few days… Losing the job and getting disciplined by the school.”
Lai Li lifted his eyelids. “Is that so?”
Song Zichu was indeed good-looking—not smiling, he seemed somewhat aloof; smiling, he gave off a spring-breeze warmth. A contradictory vibe.
“Thanks again, really,” Song Zichu said neither humbly nor arrogantly. “Mind if I ask why you helped?”
“You guess.”
“I don’t know.” Song Zichu shook his head.
Lai Li wiped his mouth and said with a half-smile, “Actually, last Friday was the second time I saw you at Cloud Summit. The first time was a similar situation… You’re pretty popular with the gays.”
Song Zichu froze.
Lai Li wasn’t bluffing. The first encounter was during summer break; Song Zichu was being harassed by a man, and Lai Li had glanced once before leaving with his friends, minding his own business.
Lai Li asked, “I’m a bit curious—how did you get out of it without me that time?”
Song Zichu looked embarrassed. “I didn’t compromise… The manager bailed me out.”
Lai Li said, “Oh. Looks like it wouldn’t have been a big deal without me last week either.”
Song Zichu smiled wryly. “The manager wasn’t there that day. Without you, it probably…”
Buzz—
Lai Li’s phone rang suddenly. He answered, and Jing Zixiao’s voice came through. “Where are you?”
Lai Li said, “Busy tonight.”
“Not asking to hang out,” Jing Zixiao said. “Everyone around He Shuxin except Tang Yuanyang got beat up—is that you?”
Lai Li leaned back nonchalantly. “How could a student like me pull that off?”
Jing Zixiao said, “Bullshit! I know why you had them taught a lesson, but don’t say I told you about the rumor-mongering on your bro being a pedo.”
Lai Li ignored it. “Anything else?”
Jing Zixiao asked curiously, “Why’d you spare Tang Yuanyang? Because your bro wants to acquire their company, so you went easy? A man changes after three days—Lai, you’ve actually learned to be considerate of him…”
Lai Li let out an ambiguous laugh and hung up.
It was chilly at night, and everyone had put on jackets during training. As Lai Li passed a trash can, he considered tossing the jacket someone else had touched.
But the camouflage uniforms were school-issued, and they might count them upon return.
“Lai Li?” Song Zichu called. “The instructor’s calling assembly!”
Lai Li texted his counselor and walked out right in front of the instructor and Tang Yuanyang.
It wasn’t until 8:50 p.m. that military training finally ended. The sweaty freshmen returned to the dorm, collapsing onto their beds with long sighs, too exhausted to care about the dirt.
“Tired like a dog…” Huang Hao said weakly, turning to his roommates. “Gotta say, Lai Li’s got balls. When he just turned and left without a word tonight, the instructor and upperclassmen’s faces went green.”
Jiang Xiao had forgotten the first day’s unpleasantness. “Lai Li and Senior Tang must know each other—probably some grudge. Those two are bound to throw down eventually.”
Only Song Zichu sat on his chair. “Lights-out check is almost here.”
“Shit, Lai Li’s not back!” Huang Hao sat up. “Should we remind him?”
“You guys do it—I don’t have his WeChat,” Jiang Xiao said, covering his face.
“Me neither,” Song Zichu frowned.
“Add him from the group?” Huang Hao pulled out his phone and checked. “…He’s not in the class group.”
Jiang Xiao said, “Then he’s screwed. No time to find a sub now.”
Song Zichu shook his head. “Tang Yuanyang’s in the check team. If he wants to target Lai Li, a sub won’t help.”
They checked dorms almost every night during training, but Lai Li had always snuck back in after via the window the past few days—the others pretended not to notice. Tonight, he’d likely get caught red-handed.
And sure enough—
“Where’s Lai Li!?”
The three in the dorm exchanged glances but stayed silent.
Tang Yuanyang sneered. “Can’t follow rules after just a few days of school?”
He walked to the balcony, picked up a dripping camouflage jacket, and returned. “Whose is this?”
With the AC a bit low, all three still wore their jackets—unzipped, but on. The only one who’d had time to wash and hang clothes was Lai Li.
Tang Yuanyang told his buddy, “Note it.”
He kept prowling, nitpicking since Lai Li was absent: messy desks, trash in the bin, unmade bedding. After jotting down a bunch, he said reasonably, “I’m not unreasonable—text him. If he’s back in five minutes, I’ll let it slide.”
…As if he’s just strolling campus for five minutes.
The others grumbled inwardly but said nothing. Song Zichu had messaged the counselor earlier for Lai Li’s contact and just got a reply. He quickly explained and requested to add him.
Lai Li’s WeChat name was blunt: Piss off and bark somewhere else.
His profile pic seemed like a stock image—dark background, a mirror on the left reflecting a man’s waist and abs with a tattoo:
A coiled black snake around the left hip, looking like it burrowed into the bone at first glance, slithering downward to the right. The snake’s head extended to the other hip bone, tongue flicking out, forked tip licking a pale golden sun.
Very sensual—not something a straight guy would use.
Tang Yuanyang said at the door, “We’ll come back later. If Lai Li’s still not here, then—”
A mocking voice cut in: “Then what?”
Tang Yuanyang jolted and whipped around to see Lai Li. He raised his voice. “What the fuck are you sneaking around for? If you’ve got the guts to leave, don’t come back!”
Lai Li didn’t get mad. “Calm down. I followed procedure and got a three-hour leave from the counselor—went to the hospital to visit Shu Xin and your good bros. No appreciation at all?”
Tang Yuanyang flew into a rage. “I knew it was you!”
Lai Li shouldered past him and said sympathetically, just loud enough for the two of them, “Not sure what you’re on about, but you… Seems like you’ve been through it yourself, huh? That’s why you project like that?”
“What…” Tang Yuanyang suddenly realized, his face stiffening.
“Poor thing, your dad? Or some uncle who did that to you?” Lai Li hooked the corner of his mouth. “Or maybe you have that kind of fetish yourself?”
“You motherf—”
Tang Yuanyang was already seething with anger from covering for Lai Li during afternoon training. Now, he could no longer hold back. He swung his fist straight at Lai Li’s face. Lai Li retreated a step into the dorm, dissipating some of the force. To outsiders and the hallway cameras, it looked like the punch had landed squarely on his face.
Lai Li grabbed Tang Yuanyang’s forearm and flung him inside the dorm. He followed up with a kick to his waist. Tang Yuanyang stumbled, spun around to fight back, but Lai Li raised a chair to block him, making him howl in pain. Lai Li tossed the chair aside and drove a fist into Tang Yuanyang’s stomach.
Lai Li’s control over his strength was extremely precise—he made Tang Yuanyang writhe in agony without causing serious injury.
The dorm erupted into chaos. The inspection team shouted stern warnings to no avail. The other three guys in the dorm were stunned, and the narrow hallway made it hard to pull them apart. People from neighboring dorms poked their heads out one after another to watch the drama.
Tang Yuanyang felt like he was about to be beaten to death. No one pulled Lai Li off him, so he roared in fury and lunged with all his might. But in the next second, a knife appeared inexplicably in his hand, its blade pointed straight at Lai Li’s neck!
His mind went blank. It was too late to pull back now, and the screams around him foretold the bloody tragedy about to unfold—
Fortunately, Lai Li dodged to the side just in time, the blade grazing past.
Even so, a streak of bright red blood spurted from the side of his neck.
One member of the inspection team shouted in shock, “Tang Yuanyang, are you fucking insane!?”
Amid a chorus of “holy shits,” Lai Li clutched his neck and stood up, hooking the corner of his mouth as he said, “Turns out the senior likes to carry a knife during dorm checks. How scary.”
Tang Yuanyang snapped back to reality, his hand trembling as he dropped the knife. “This isn’t my knife! He framed me!”
…
“What!?” Tang Xueda exclaimed in shock. “A mistake, right, President Dai? Yuanyang and Little Chestnut got into a fight?”
Dai Linxuan calmly hummed in acknowledgment. “I’m heading to the school. Coming along, President Tang?”
Tang Xueda naturally followed. Their two cars pulled up to the school gate in less than twenty minutes.
Even at the door of the school infirmary, Tang Xueda was still saying, “It’s fine. Kids roughhousing is normal—”
Based on past experience, Lai Li rarely came out on the losing end in these situations. Tang Xueda knew his son’s temperament all too well—taking a beating would teach him a lesson. But when he saw Lai Li sitting on the infirmary bed with a large sterile dressing plastered to the right side of his neck, he was dumbfounded.
Tang Xueda’s expression shifted repeatedly. Finally, he walked up to Tang Yuanyang and slapped him so hard across the face that his own hand shook afterward. “What the hell did you do!?”
Terrified and aggrieved, Tang Yuanyang yelled back, “It wasn’t me!”
Tang Xueda gnashed his teeth. “Shut up!”
Anyone who had dealt with Dai Linxuan knew how protective he was, how much he doted on this half-brother from a different mother.
If Lai Li had been the sole troublemaker, Dai Linxuan was a reasonable man. He’d compensate generously, lower his stance, and even personally apologize at the door. But if Lai Li was hurt too, that was a different story altogether.
Tang Xueda turned back slowly. “President Dai…”
Sure enough—
Most of the time, Dai Linxuan wore a faint smile that made him seem mild and approachable. Only when that smile completely faded from his face did he reveal a hint of something terrifying.
Lai Li, unfazed, tilted his head and smiled at Dai Linxuan.
