Zhou Ruo An had been visiting Old Master Jin’s house frequently lately. He made himself at home—sticking his head into the fridge to rummage for food, mixing expensive red wine worth tens of thousands per bottle with Sprite, teaching the old man—who used to only play international chess—to cheat at cards like a shameless old rogue, and even going upstairs to argue with a noisy neighbor. With just a few sharp retorts, he left the other party speechless. The seventy-something old lady could only purse her toothless mouth and say, “Oh my, Old Jin, your grandson is something else—so fierce, not respectful to elders at all.”
Old Master Jin chuckled, the sound of his cane tapping the ground carrying a lightness. “As long as he respects me, that’s enough. He doesn’t need to respect everyone.”
Leaning lazily against the old staircase railing, Zhou Ruo An added, “When elders don’t act with dignity, they can’t expect respect from the young. Grandma, I’ll respect you next time. This time? You’re not worth it.”
…
Victorious from their verbal battle, the two returned home in high spirits. As soon as they entered, Zhou Ruo An crouched down, preparing to help Jin Hui change his shoes.
The brown handmade leather shoes pulled back slightly. The old man looked down at him, the smile gone from his face. “You don’t need to do things like this to please me.”
Zhou Ruo An didn’t stop. He untied the laces, removed the leather shoes, slipped on the slippers, then repeated the process for the other foot.
“Before I acknowledged my ancestry, I was raised by an old scrap collector named Old Ding. He had severe rheumatism and couldn’t squat because of joint pain. Every time, it was either me or another kid he raised who helped him change shoes.”
Holding the slippers, Zhou Ruo An’s gaze seemed weighed down by old regrets, dimming slightly. “I just… got used to it.”
After putting the slippers on Jin Hui’s feet, he stood up, bracing his knees, his tone turning irreverent. “But if you say it’s flattery, then fine—it’s flattery. Old man, when people try to please you, it means you’re still useful, still valuable. Don’t go around all day thinking you’re old and useless, wallowing in gloom. It’s embarrassing to watch.”
“You little brat.” Jin Hui raised his cane and lightly swung it at Zhou Ruo An. “You’re not even grown yet, and you’re lecturing me?”
Zhou Ruo An dodged with a grin, flopping onto the sofa. He grabbed an apple from the table, took a bite, and spoke with puffed cheeks, “I do have something I want from you. I want to use your influence to get ahead in the Zhou family. But you don’t need to wrong yourself for me.”
Old Master Jin sat across from him, picking up the playing cards on the coffee table, silently reciting cheating techniques in his head while casually asking, “How have I wronged myself?”
The sound of chewing stopped. “Did you answer Zhou Ran Ming’s call?”
The question carried weight. The old man lifted his gaze from the cards and looked at the young man in front of him.
“How did you know I answered his call?”
“I guessed. Otherwise, why would the head of the Zhou family leave the seat next to him at the New Year’s Eve dinner for me?” Zhou Ruo An picked up another hand of cards, shuffled them simply, and threw down a sequence of three. “You haven’t answered Zhou Ran Ming’s calls for three years. There’s no need to compromise yourself for me.”
Old Master Jin studied his cards for a moment, then played three Kings on top. “Every year, only the most outstanding member of the Zhou family gets to sit in that seat. Don’t you want it?”
“I do.” Zhou Ruo An clicked his tongue at the cards. “Going that big right from the start?”
He put the apple back in the fruit basket, but it slipped and fell, hitting the ground with a dull sound.
Old Master Jin’s gaze instinctively followed it. When he looked back, Zhou Ruo An had already played a bomb, saying, “Of course I want that seat—but I don’t want to sit there without justification.”
The old man frowned. “How did you get that bomb? I clearly had the big joker.”
He checked his cards—the big joker was gone.
Zhou Ruo An tossed his cards aside and picked up the apple again, crunching loudly. “I took it from your hand. If your skills aren’t good enough, you can’t blame others.”
Old Master Jin slammed the cards down, leaning on his cane. “You deserve that seat. You solved the electronics factory strike, you recovered the losses, and you restored Shengkai’s foreign trade reputation in Russia. Beyond that, at the beginning of next year, the province will organize a chamber of commerce event. All the prominent business figures will be invited. I’m invited—and so is Zhou Ran Ming.”
Zhou Ruo An’s eyes flickered as he immediately understood. “So at that event, you and Zhou Ran Ming will inevitably meet. He’s afraid you’ll snub him and turn him into a laughingstock in the industry?”
Old Master Jin didn’t deny it. “He exchanged that seat at the New Year’s dinner for one smile from me at the event. I agreed.”
His graying hair trembled slightly as he spoke with a hint of pride. “Now tell me—do you have the right to sit in that seat?”
Thinking it through, Zhou Ruo An said, “You agreed to give him face because of me. On a small scale, I helped Zhou Ran Ming save his reputation. On a larger scale, because of me, Shengkai’s foreign trade cleared its name of being ungrateful.”
Having sorted out the cause and effect, Zhou Ruo An leaned back arrogantly. “If I don’t sit in that seat, who will? Who has a backer as powerful as mine?”
Old Master Jin scoffed. “And this is how you treat your backer?”
When Zhou Ruo An truly smiled, his eyes curved. “I won’t steal your cards anymore.” He picked up the big joker and handed it to the old man. “From now on, no matter how clumsy your cheating is, I’ll pretend not to notice.”
…
On New Year’s Eve, firecrackers went off in the alley.
Zhou Ruo An, dressed in a custom-tailored suit, ran wildly like prey driven into a corner, doing everything he could to evade the pursuit behind him.
He stepped on an unlit string of firecrackers, shoved aside a man holding a cigarette, and knocked over old furniture piled in the alley as he fled.
He had no time to care, glancing back as he ran. The men chasing him had already turned into the narrow alley. The unlit firecrackers were trampled repeatedly, crushed before they could even explode.
Hearing footsteps drawing closer, Zhou Ruo An frantically pulled out his phone and quickly pressed the speed-dial button while retreating against the cold wind.
The wind howled. No one answered. Every nerve in his body was taut as he ran forward like a stray dog.
“Pick up… pick up… answer the phone…”
Finally, just before the call automatically disconnected, it was answered.
Before the other side could speak, Zhou Ruo An shouted into the wind, “Lin Yi, save me!”
…
Zhou Ruo An’s phone was confiscated, and he was locked inside a dilapidated building.
The room was dark, with only one window, and outside it was nothing but endless night.
Occasionally, when fireworks were set off nearby, several fierce silhouettes would flash into view—standing or crouching, guarding the building from afar, tilting their heads toward the window, their gazes piercing like knives.
When the fireworks faded, those figures sank back into the darkness, like beasts lurking in the shadows—you never knew which artery they were watching.
After about twenty minutes, Zhou Ruo An heard faint voices outside. Soon after, steady footsteps approached and stopped at the door.
Then came the metallic click of a lighter flipping open. Someone lit a cigarette. The lid snapped shut. Finally, the battered, hole-riddled door creaked open.
The room remained pitch black. The man’s face was obscured by the night, but Zhou Ruo An visibly relaxed. The moment his eyes landed on the silhouette, the panic in his heart suddenly settled.
He instinctively stepped forward. “Those people have been guarding outside. How did you get in?”
The man took out his phone and turned on the flashlight. Under the harsh beam, his sharp features looked even more sinister, perfectly matching his cold tone.
“We’re all in the same line of work. There’s always some overlap. We give each other some face—they let me in, but I can’t take you out.” Lin Yi removed the cigarette, lifted his gaze slightly, and finally looked Zhou Ruo An over properly. “What trouble did you get yourself into this time?”
Zhou Ruo An rummaged through Lin Yi’s cigarettes, found one, and bit down on it viciously. “Today is New Year’s Eve. Someone doesn’t want me to attend the Zhou family banquet and sit beside the head of the Zhou family.”
“Who doesn’t want that?”
Zhou Ruo An shrugged. “Who knows? It could be Zhou Bin or Zhou Zhe—but my guess is Zhou Bin. This kind of thing feels like something that brainless idiot would do.”
“No wonder the people outside aren’t hurting you. They’re just blocking you here and not letting you leave.” After understanding the situation, Lin Yi turned to walk out. “So you don’t need to worry about your safety. In two hours, they’ll let you go.”
Zhou Ruo An grabbed him. “Lin Yi! I need to get out.” He added, “Right now.”
Lin Yi glanced at the hand gripping his sleeve and asked calmly, “Young Master Zhou, have you forgotten? Our accounts are already settled.”
“I’ll pay you.” Zhou Ruo An’s gaze was unusually stubborn. “Tonight, I must sit in that seat next to Zhou Ran Ming.”
After a long pause, Lin Yi’s voice echoed again in the empty, dilapidated house. “Zhou Ruo An, you know what I want.”
The hand clutching his sleeve trembled, loosening slightly.
“Lin Yi, can’t we just talk money? You can take this chance to extort me again.”
Lin Yi took a drag of his cigarette. The ember at the tip flared brighter, looking strangely eerie in the dark, ruined house.
“Forgot to wish you a Happy New Year. How about I give you a cigarette burn as a gift?”
Holding the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, he lowered it.
“Lin Yi!” Zhou Ruo An’s breathing grew uneven. “Is there really no other way for us?”
Ash fell onto the back of his hand, making him flinch. “Wait—I need… to think.”
The cigarette hovered midway. Lin Yi sounded impatient. “Hurry up and decide. I still need to go back for New Year’s dinner.”
The sound of firecrackers outside grew denser. Zhou Ruo An glanced at the time and asked with lowered eyes, “What do you want me to do?”
Under the flashlight, Lin Yi watched the heavy shadow cast by those long lashes and said slowly, “Do you remember what I taught you in the warehouse last time?”
Zhou Ruo An suddenly lifted his head, meeting Lin Yi’s gaze.
“I told you to review it properly. Do that first. If I’m satisfied, then we can keep talking.”
The watch hidden under Zhou Ruo An’s sleeve was silent—pressing it to his ear wouldn’t reveal the ticking of time. But now, the movement of the hands seemed to merge with his pulse, pounding against his eardrums, stirring panic.
The fabric of Lin Yi’s sleeve wrinkled under Zhou Ruo An’s grip. Step by step, Zhou Ruo An moved forward, holding his breath as he slowly pressed himself against the broad chest.
The next moment, he was pushed away mercilessly.
“If you’re unwilling, forget it,” Lin Yi said.
“Wait.” Zhou Ruo An took a deep breath. “Are you sure you can get me out?”
The reply was cold. “You can choose not to believe me.”
Zhou Ruo An released Lin Yi’s sleeve. Relaxing his body, he wrapped his arms around Lin Yi’s waist and, slowly and gently, leaned into his embrace.
“Are you willing?”
“…Yes.”
“Hold tighter.”
His arms tightened, and Zhou Ruo An buried his face into Lin Yi’s shoulder…
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