The dish “Braised Yellow Croaker with Soup” requires the entire fish to be deboned, then stuffed with sea cucumber, shark fin, abalone, fish maw, crab roe, and other treasured delicacies. The fish is then covered with half a pound of bird’s nest, and rich chicken broth is poured over it before being steamed on low heat for four hours to fully absorb the flavors.
When Zhou Ruo An stepped into the Zhou residence, this signature dish had already been served.
Everyone was seated around the table, with Zhou Ran Ming at the head seat. On his right, an empty chair remained—its teacup unfilled, its wine untouched—seeming oddly out of place.
The heavy banquet hall doors were slowly pushed open by attendants, and Zhou Ruo An entered the luxurious hall carrying with him the chill from outside.
The room fell silent. Under the crystal chandelier stood Zhou Ruo An, dressed in a refined yet understated light gray suit, paired with a satin-white shirt trimmed in silver thread, and tailored trousers that draped perfectly over his long legs. He walked forward with calm elegance, graceful yet striking.
“Apologies, I’m late.” Zhou Ruo An wore a polite smile, giving a slight nod as a greeting. His gaze swept across the room, catching the shock and anger on Zhou Bin’s face, and the sudden tightening of the prayer beads in Zhou Zhe’s hand.
“Not late.” From the head seat, Zhou Ran Ming gestured to him. “We were waiting for you to start the meal. Come, sit.”
The table was large, and it took some time to walk around it. Zhou Ruo An’s steady pace made it feel even slower. He took his time, savoring the sight of their restrained, twisted expressions before finally reaching the empty seat and sitting down.
Wine was poured, tea was served, and the aroma of aged liquor slowly filled the air. Zhou Ran Ming personally ladled a bowl of Braised Yellow Croaker with Soup and placed it in front of Zhou Ruo An under the watchful eyes of everyone present.
The Zhou family had a rule: the person who drank the first sip of fish soup would lead the conversation at the banquet.
Slender fingers lifted a crystal goblet. Zhou Ruo An’s voice, clear and metallic, was neither deep nor hoarse—simply pleasant to hear.
“Everyone, Happy New Year.”
…
“Brother Lin, Happy New Year!”
At the same time, Lin Yi also raised his glass.
In a fusion restaurant with affordable prices, the table was filled to the brim with dishes. Bai Ban stood with one foot on a crate of beer, noisily clinking glasses with Lin Yi.
Since it was the New Year, Lin Yi indulged the chaos. One arm rested lazily on the back of his chair as he casually finished his drink.
Another person came over to toast him. After downing three consecutive drinks, he wiped his mouth and asked, “Bro, when are we letting those people locked in the bar warehouse go? We locked them up this afternoon, and just now Third Brother went to check—they’ve already cracked open a few crates of beer and are completely drunk.”
Lin Yi glanced at his watch, estimating that Zhou Ruo An should have arrived at the Zhou family by now.
“Let them go,” he said.
“Alright. If we don’t, they’ll drink all the stock.” The man had just started to stand but sat back down, complaining, “That young master from the Zhou family ran too slow. We didn’t know whether to chase or stop—we even had to slow down to match his pace. And you showed up late too, leaving us freezing in the wind for over twenty minutes. Tell me—shouldn’t you drink another round with us?”
“Fair enough. Thanks for your hard work.” Lin Yi smiled, filled his glass, and downed it in one go.
The man happily followed suit and asked again, “You captured the people who were actually trying to block that young master—I thought you were helping him. But then you had us do the exact same thing. Why?”
Lin Yi recalled the recent embrace and the warm breath against his neck. Picking up the bottle, he slowly poured another drink. “Just drink. Why so many questions?”
After clinking glasses again and finishing his final drink, Lin Yi stood up to leave. “I’ve already paid. Enjoy yourselves—I’m heading out.”
The others protested, especially Bai Ban, but Lin Yi simply smiled and pushed aside those blocking his way. “I’ve got something important to do.”
…
Zhou Ruo An’s old house had been dark for months. But on this New Year’s Eve, a single light was on. The window was small, and the dim glow filtered through frost-covered glass, spilling out like a warm yellow cookie—freshly baked, carrying a hint of sweetness.
Before entering, Zhou Ruo An checked the time: 10:58. A pretty auspicious number. Still, he took out a coin, flicked it high into the air, caught it, and revealed the result.
Heads.
For the first time, Zhou Ruo An didn’t trust his own omen. He smoked two cigarettes at the door before finally stepping inside at 11:11.
Damn, what a lonely time, Zhou Ruo An cursed inwardly.
The moment he entered, he smelled food. The familiar scent made him pause. Memories flowed past like old film reels—blurred yet nostalgic.
The kitchen hood fell silent. Lin Yi walked out carrying a dish. Seeing Zhou Ruo An didn’t surprise him. He set the plate down and pointed to the chair opposite. “Sit.”
Zhou Ruo An took off his coat, hung it up, unbuttoned his suit, and slouched into the chair. He picked up his chopsticks, grabbed a piece of ribs, and ate without much elegance.
Lin Yi handed him a can of beer and smiled. “Didn’t the Zhou family feed you?”
Zhou Ruo An spat out the bone and wiped his mouth with a tissue. “That fish dish supposedly costs over eight thousand at a restaurant. Still not as good as your braised ribs.”
Lin Yi picked up another piece and placed it in his bowl. “If you like it, I can make it often.”
Zhou Ruo An slowed his chewing, set down his chopsticks, and took a sip of beer. “Didn’t you say you wanted to talk? Then talk.”
“Eat first.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
Lin Yi’s smile faded. Looking down at his bowl, he took a bite of rice. “I’m in a good mood. We’ll talk after I finish eating.”
Irritated, Zhou Ruo An could only sit there watching him eat.
When Lin Yi finally put down his chopsticks, Zhou Ruo An glanced at the time—11:30. Half an hour until the New Year.
“Can we talk now?”
Lin Yi rinsed his mouth in the bathroom, returned, and looked directly at him. His tone was calm. “Zhou Ruo An, I like you.”
Not loud, not heavy—just ordinary. Most of Lin Yi’s words were spoken in this same tone. No buildup, no explanation. As if discussing the weather on a normal day, he said it plainly: Zhou Ruo An, I like you.
Between them still sat the messy remains of the meal and the plain simplicity of home-cooked dishes.
Zhou Ruo An hadn’t intended to smoke, but now he couldn’t help himself. He pulled out a cigarette, bit it between his lips, then yanked it away.
“What did you say?” he asked.
Lin Yi repeated it without hesitation. “I like you, Zhou Ruo An.”
Downstairs, children were setting off firecrackers. Their laughter mixed with the crackling pops, filling the space—but Zhou Ruo An still felt the room was unbearably quiet.
“You’ve had this kind of thought… for how long?” He didn’t look into Lin Yi’s eyes, instead fixing his gaze on the plate of ribs that had already gone cold.
“A long time. I can’t even remember when it started.”
Zhou Ruo An suddenly let out a light laugh. “You like me? You scam my money, pour boiling water on my hand, sleep with escorts, and a while ago you hung me up in the warehouse for half the night—Lin Yi, this is what you call liking me?”
Lin Yi only explained what he felt like explaining. “I didn’t sleep with them.”
“They could barely walk the next day.”
Lin Yi didn’t blush often, but now there was a hint of it. “They slept with each other. I just watched.”
Zhou Ruo An’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I didn’t know you were this perverted.” He rejected him bluntly. “There’s no chance for us. Find someone else.”
“Alright.”
The reply came quickly and cleanly—completely outside Zhou Ruo An’s expectations.
Lin Yi remained calm, still wearing that same unreadable expression. “I knew you’d cross the river and burn the bridge. That’s your usual move, Young Master Zhou. Nothing surprising.”
A Lin Yi who didn’t get angry was even more unsettling. Zhou Ruo An couldn’t tell where the beast’s hidden fangs would strike. His heart stayed suspended, his unease doubling.
“Then… I’ll go.”
Zhou Ruo An stood up to grab his coat. Lin Yi lit a cigarette and sat there, watching him leave.
His hand rested on the doorknob but didn’t press it down. Zhou Ruo An lowered his head and stayed silent for a moment, then spoke softly with his back turned. “Lin Yi, there’s no deep hatred between us. The ways you dealt with me before were just small tricks… so you won’t sell me out in the future, right?”
“You can try walking out of this room and see.”
The calm, even tone made his heart tighten. Zhou Ruo An turned back to look at Lin Yi, gritting his teeth. “If you like someone, shouldn’t you fulfill them unconditionally?”
The man sitting in the chair gave a faint smile. “Then I probably don’t like you that much. I can’t fulfill that.”
“Damn it.” Zhou Ruo An turned back and sat down across from him. “If two people are going to be together, there has to be mutual feelings. I’m straight—I can’t accept you. What, are you going to force something that won’t grow?”
Lin Yi’s expression softened slightly. “Three months. Don’t keep anyone by your side, and don’t reject my pursuit. Give me a chance—we’ll try.”
Zhou Ruo An slowly curled his fingers. “And if after three months it still doesn’t work?”
Lin Yi looked at those beautiful yet cold eyes and spoke quietly. “I’ll give up. I won’t bother you again.”
Zhou Ruo An lowered his gaze, cutting off eye contact. He quickly weighed the pros and cons in his mind until the coin in his hand grew slightly warm from being pressed. Then he looked up again, his gaze sharp and clear. “During these three months, we can’t have excessive physical contact. And you—and your people—will take my orders during this time.”
Leaning back into the chair, Zhou Ruo An crossed his legs, his tone firm. “Can you do that, Lin Yi?”
The noise outside grew louder. Lin Yi glanced at the clock—11:59. The new year was about to arrive.
“Alright.” He stood up, reached across the table, and cupped Zhou Ruo An’s cheek. “The agreement starts next year. There are still a few seconds left, so it doesn’t count as me cheating.”
He leaned down and quickly pressed his lips against the soft lips before him. Amid the sudden cheers and fireworks outside, he murmured:
“Happy New Year, An An.”
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