It took Ren Yu three nights of staking out Fu Chun Shen before finally finding him in a quiet bar.
In the darkest corner of the L-shaped counter, Fu Chun Shen sat alone like a sculpture. Beneath the carefully tailored sleeves of his suit, his long fingers slowly traced the rim of his glass.
It was not as though nobody approached him. Even under the dim lighting, Fu Chun Shen still drew attention. Fingertips painted with crimson polish brushed over the back of his hand; a man wearing cedar-scented cologne tapped an expensive watch against the seat beside him—yet none of it managed to stir even the slightest reaction from Fu Chun Shen.
As a secretary, Fu Chun Shen had always been humble, meticulous, and measured in speech. But once stripped of the workplace mask, he seemed devoid of warmth entirely. Beneath the shadows cast by lowered lashes lingered nothing but cold distance.
Still, someone eventually pulled out the stool beside him.
Long legs. Dress pants. As the man settled halfway onto the high stool, the curve of his hips pressed neatly against the fabric. He lightly tapped the counter with his fingers. “Double-aged rum, on the rocks.”
Hearing the voice, Fu Chun Shen lifted his eyes, glanced once at the newcomer, then looked away again and silently drank.
The rum slid across the bar toward him. Speaking seemingly to the air, he asked, “Assistant Ren came to inspect the miserable state of an unemployed man?”
Wearing gold-rimmed glasses in such a decadent setting, Ren Yu looked every bit the refined scoundrel.
“Of course. A spectacle like Secretary Fu’s downfall might not happen again for another ten years.” He deliberately emphasized the words “Secretary Fu,” his tone edged with humiliation. “But I’ve been too busy lately. The new job is incredibly demanding, and I honestly couldn’t spare the time.”
Fu Chun Shen drank slowly. “So you finally found some free time today?”
“Just now.” The unique sweetness of the rum slipped out together with his laughter, dissolving into the air. “So I hurried over to enjoy Secretary Fu’s embarrassment.”
Fu Chun Shen lifted his glass. “Is it entertaining?”
“Very.” Ren Yu lightly clinked his own glass against it. “Secretary Fu can’t even afford decent alcohol anymore? I remember you used to drink tequila.”
Fu Chun Shen swirled the cheap whiskey in his glass. The sound of the ice could not conceal the indifference in his tone. “I lost my job. Naturally I need to save money.”
Ren Yu glanced sideways at Fu Chun Shen’s clothes and watch and scoffed. “I know Secretary Fu is scheming, but pretending to be poor in front of me is meaningless.”
“Everything I earned before went into appearances. Now that I’ve been fired, I’m basically blacklisted from the entire industry.”
The delight in Ren Yu’s eyes deepened. He snapped his fingers to summon the bartender. “One tequila.” Then he turned to Fu Chun Shen. “Say thank you.”
Fu Chun Shen drained the rest of his drink before finally lifting his eyes to stare directly at Ren Yu. Slowly, he said, “Thank you.”
Ren Yu’s brows furrowed. The Fu Chun Shen before him felt both familiar and unfamiliar, as though the silent, withdrawn teenager from ten years ago had suddenly appeared again. Back then, Fu Chun Shen had not yet learned tact or restraint. He had been like a rusted nail—stubborn, abrasive, cold toward everything around him. Even standing among crowds, he always seemed detached from them, just like this isolated corner of the bar. Invisible walls enclosed him within, while everyone else remained outside.
Ren Yu hated thinking about high school. Forcing himself back to the present, he picked up his phone. “I’m planning to organize a reunion for our old classmates soon. Secretary Fu finally has free time—why not come join the fun?”
The malice behind the invitation was obvious. Never once organizing a reunion before, yet suddenly doing so right after Fu Chun Shen had been fired—it was clearly meant to make his humiliation even more public.
Fu Chun Shen exchanged that “thank you” for a drink. Now, sipping the tequila, he asked calmly, “Assistant Ren never attended any of our high school reunions before. What changed? You finally got the courage?”
That single sentence wiped the smile from Ren Yu’s face.
He loosened the button beneath his throat. His suit jacket opened slightly, revealing the line of his waist.
“Fu Chun Shen.” Ren Yu called him directly by name this time. “You still dare bring up high school?”
Fu Chun Shen’s gaze drifted back from the glimpse of Ren Yu’s waist beneath the suit. “Why wouldn’t I dare?”
“You schemed against me on purpose.”
Fu Chun Shen’s eyes were deep and dark, his gaze cool as it rested on Ren Yu. “You were the one who flirted without reason and then abandoned me halfway through.”
Ren Yu visibly froze. He looked Fu Chun Shen up and down, undisguised disdain surfacing in his eyes. “Playing idiom chains now? Secretary Fu really knows how to entertain himself under difficult circumstances.”
Back when he worked at Shengkai Trading, Fu Chun Shen had been famous for his extraordinary composure and precision. Some people even joked that he calculated the ideal amount of time to drink a glass of alcohol in order to preserve its perfect flavor.
Yet now, the fresh drink in his hand was already nearly empty. Raising his hand, he summoned the bartender again, tapping twice beside the empty glass before pointing toward Ren Yu. “Another one. Put it on his tab.”
Only then did he look directly at Ren Yu. “Back in our second year of high school, you pursued me for three months. We officially dated for fifteen days. On the first day of winter break, we broke up. Ever since then, you’ve been stringing me along for ten years.”
Ren Yu sat stunned for more than ten seconds before finally exploding. “What the hell are you even talking about? Why can’t I understand a single word?”
…
A new singer had taken the stage. The young man announced the title of an old song from the last century. With a gentle strum of the acoustic guitar, a melancholy melody slowly spilled through the bar.
Ren Yu pressed the back of his hand against Fu Chun Shen’s cool forehead. “Secretary Fu, this is the first time in years I’ve seen you like this. Are you pretending to be crazy just to scare me?”
Suddenly, fingers tightened around his hand.
Fu Chun Shen grabbed the hand that had been about to withdraw. His index finger slid first into the gap between Ren Yu’s fingers, calm and methodical—like solving the final question of an Olympiad math problem ten years ago—until their fingers interlocked completely.
“The fifth desk by the window,” he said quietly. “That seat was mine.”
The words instantly dragged Ren Yu back to afternoons piled high with Five Years of Gaokao, Three Years of Mock Exams. Those gilded letters had clearly been slipped into Qiu Wei’s desk. How could it possibly have belonged to Fu Chun Shen?
“But that seat was obviously—”
At that exact moment, the guitar music drifted over the booth. The warmth threading through their interlocked fingers slowly overlapped with Ren Yu’s memories, washing over the ten years between them like a tide.
Ten years earlier.
No. 1 High School.
Ren Yu was in his second year and secretly in love with a girl.
She was from the elite class—long hair, pure-looking, with dimples that appeared whenever she smiled.
As the treasured top class of the entire school, the elite class had its classroom on the top floor: quiet, undisturbed, even the bathrooms stocked with scented beads. It was nothing like the ordinary classes downstairs, where if you forgot to flush after taking a shit, the next person would chase you through three classrooms cursing you out.
Students from ordinary classes rarely went up to the top floor. Only Ren Yu occasionally sneaked upstairs after class, just to catch a glimpse of the girl he liked.
Her seat was by the window.
The fifth desk from the front.
From that day on, Ren Yu would secretly slip snacks into the fifth desk whenever the elite class had PE. Sometimes he left books or CDs too, along with brief notes signed only with the character “Yu.”
This continued for three whole months.
Right before Christmas, Ren Yu got a Polaroid camera. The very first photo he took was of himself. He tucked it into a book and slipped it into the fifth desk.
For five straight days, Ren Yu lived in nervous anticipation. Then, on the evening of the sixth day, he walked out of class and nearly jumped when he saw Fu Chun Shen leaning against the wall outside. His nervousness simply transformed into a different kind.
“Let’s go.” Back then, Fu Chun Shen had only said those two words.
The hallway was silent.
Or rather, aside from the faint whispers, the entire hallway was silent.
In high school, Fu Chun Shen was either the king of the elite class and the top student of the entire grade—or, depending on who you asked, a cold and unsettling weirdo. The gossipmongers spoke with certainty: either autistic or a sociopath. Whichever extreme it was, Fu Chun Shen definitely fit one of them.
So with only two words, he instantly pushed Ren Yu—the top student of the ordinary classes—straight into the spotlight.
Honestly, Ren Yu was confused.
He pointed at himself. “You’re talking to me?”
Fu Chun Shen said nothing. He merely glanced at Ren Yu once more before turning toward the stairwell.
Someone behind Ren Yu shoved him forward. “Go see what’s going on. If it’s just some academic discussion between top students, then there’s no need to report back to me.”
Out of curiosity, Ren Yu adjusted the backpack slung over his shoulder and followed.
Both Fu Chun Shen and Ren Yu rode bicycles. The two traveled side by side in silence the entire way. The only unusual thing was that Fu Chun Shen, whether intentionally or simply because it was convenient, escorted Ren Yu all the way to his front door.
“Did you want to tell me something?” Ren Yu asked while pushing his bike.
“Let’s go home together after school from now on.” At the time, it was the longest sentence Ren Yu had ever heard Fu Chun Shen say.
After that, the two somehow began traveling together every day.
Fu Chun Shen always waited for Ren Yu by the bike shed. They did not talk much. Occasionally Ren Yu would ask him academic questions, and the top student would answer carefully, even bringing additional practice problems the next day. Ren Yu did not dislike having such a capable study companion. It was just that the friendship had begun so strangely that sometimes it all felt surreal.
Half a month passed in the blink of an eye. Winter break arrived. That day, as usual, Fu Chun Shen escorted Ren Yu home. Aside from saying goodbye, he added one more sentence:
“How are we going to see each other during the break?”
That strange feeling surfaced again. Ren Yu always felt that his relationship with Fu Chun Shen resembled one of those extra challenge problems in a workbook—impossible to fully understand.
“We… probably don’t need to meet during the break, right?”
Ren Yu clearly saw Fu Chun Shen frown slightly. Standing half a meter away, the boy’s cool voice reached him. “Not meet? Winter break lasts thirty-two days. It only takes half an hour to bike from my house to yours.”
Aside from academic discussions, it was the second long sentence Ren Yu had ever heard Fu Chun Shen say. Letting out a soft “ah,” he replied casually, “If you want to come find me, call first. I’ll see whether I’m free.”
“Mm.” Fu Chun Shen seemed satisfied.
“Oh, right.” Ren Yu suddenly blushed. Lowering his head, he flicked the bell on his bicycle awkwardly. “Do you have contact information for Qiu Wei from your class?”
“No.” Fu Chun Shen answered immediately.
“Could you ask for me? You’re classmates, so it’d be easier for you.”
“What do you want with her?”
A boy in love naturally wanted someone to confide in. Ren Yu looked away and, in the middle of the freezing winter, spoke the hottest feelings in his heart. “I like her. I want to pursue her. I actually tried before—used to secretly leave things in her desk—but it didn’t work out. So I thought I’d try again.”
His love-struck eyes turned back toward Fu Chun Shen. “Help me out, top student Fu?”
The words lingered in the cold air, but no response came for a very long time.
Fu Chun Shen was nothing like his warm-sounding name suggested. Holding onto the handlebars, he lowered his eyes silently. The line of his jaw tightened hard, and for no reason at all, a trace of hostility surfaced there.
Ren Yu stared blankly for a moment before his brain finally caught up. Lowering his voice, he asked jokingly:
“What, are we love rivals?”
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