With the worry weighing on him finally resolved, Lu Congzhi smiled brightly. He took the cold water from Wen Rui and tipped back his head, drinking more than half the bottle.
Wen Rui watched water slide from his chin down to his Adam’s apple. The delicate movement of his throat captivated him completely.
It was still rather hot in early autumn. Wen Rui suggested, “Come on. Let’s go back and sit by the fan.”
“Let’s go.” Lu Congzhi slung an arm over Wen Rui’s shoulders.
Wen Rui was a little helpless, but didn’t shake him off. He’d tried before, without success. When Lu Congzhi got clingy, he was like a snake.
After thinking a moment, he said solemnly, “Lu Congzhi, there’s something I want to tell you. Whether two people belong to the same world depends on their outlook on life, not on their family backgrounds. We share the same worldview, values, and outlook on life. That’s why we can be together.”
Lu Congzhi could hardly contradict his own guardian angel.
“You’re right.”
He tightened his hold on Wen Rui’s shoulders, brought his strikingly sharp-featured face close, and smiled brilliantly. “We were distant for two years, but didn’t we end up together in the end? Fate is written in the stars. We might miss each other for a while, but we can’t miss each other for a lifetime.”
He remembered Wen Rui’s attention to him in his previous life, especially their meeting at the Outstanding Youth award ceremony, when Wen Rui shyly called him “President Hot Stuff.”
Their bond had been building across two lifetimes.
Wen Rui silently developed a headache. What was this nonsense about fate being written in the stars? If a straight man didn’t know how to talk, he shouldn’t talk at all. Every sentence sounded like a confession.
Yet his spirits rose uncontrollably, leaving him lighthearted and pleased. Pretending to be indifferent, he murmured, “Mm.”
The two returned to their dormitory and shared breakfast.
Mu Zhengqing proved himself a professional. He quickly drafted a series of contracts, took them to the campus computer room for printing, and brought them back for everyone to sign.
Lin Yuan transferred his shares to Lu Congzhi, who paid the twenty-five thousand yuan on the spot.
Wen Rui pushed the Letter of Intent for Priority Acquisition in front of Song Xiuzhu. “Sign it.”
Song Xiuzhu opened the agreement. One line stabbed at his eyes: Party A irrevocably undertakes that, if Party A’s equity is lawfully disposed of, Party A shall request the judicial authority or disposal agency to give Party B, or a party designated by Party B, priority to purchase the equity on equal terms.
He had done nothing wrong, yet in their eyes he was a criminal.
What an irony. Had their years of friendship all been a lie? Wen Rui had said he liked him and wanted them to be together, yet he could turn against him in the next breath.
At that moment, Song Xiuzhu hated Wen Rui even more than he hated Lu Congzhi.
He picked up the pen and held it suspended for a moment. Then he said, “Everyone is a potential criminal. Anyone could break the law. Why should I be the only person signing this agreement? If we’re signing, everyone should sign.”
His theory that human nature was inherently evil infuriated Yu Binbin. “Are you fucking asking for trouble?”
Zhou Ming was displeased too. “Our money comes from legitimate sources. It can stand up to scrutiny.”
Yet the usually most aggressive person in the room, Lu Congzhi, was now the calmest. He spoke slowly. “Song Xiuzhu, see? This is your real face. If you’re suffering, you have to make everyone else suffer too. I knew you’d say that. I had Senior Mu print five copies of the letter of intent. Everyone can sign. No problem.”
Another layer of Song Xiuzhu’s hidden darkness had been stripped away. He paled a little and couldn’t help regretting his words.
But Wen Rui had already taken an agreement from the stack, uncapped his pen, and signed his name without hesitation.
Lu Congzhi spread out an agreement of his own but did not begin writing.
Thinking he was afraid, Song Xiuzhu immediately shot him a malicious glance.
To his surprise, once Wen Rui finished signing, he naturally passed his fountain pen to Lu Congzhi. It wasn’t that Lu Congzhi was afraid; he simply couldn’t be bothered to rummage through his drawer for a ballpoint pen. Wen Rui had barely spoken to him in the past, yet somehow understood his habits perfectly.
There was an indefinable rapport between them, as though they had already become very close friends.
A great wave of panic overwhelmed Song Xiuzhu. By losing Wen Rui’s special treatment, he seemed to have lost so much, and all of it was gradually being transferred to Lu Congzhi.
Song Xiuzhu regretted his decisions, then realized it might not be too late. Feelings didn’t vanish overnight. If he humbled himself, tried to hold on to Wen Rui, and gave him something tangible to sweeten the deal, their weakening bond might grow strong again.
Having made up his mind, he turned to business. “Wen Rui, did you ask Senior Mu Zhengqing to draft the written notice for your share transfer?”
Mu Zhengqing looked up and feigned confusion. “What written notice?”
Wen Rui said blandly, “I forgot.”
Song Xiuzhu checked a text from the director on his phone. “I’ve got the money together. Have Senior Mu write it now.”
Mu Zhengqing looked at Wen Rui.
Wen Rui shook his head. “We’ll deal with it when I get back.”
Mu Zhengqing acknowledged him. He understood that if Lu Congzhi were the buyer, Wen Rui would issue the written notice immediately. But since the buyer was Song Xiuzhu, that notice would never arrive.
Song Xiuzhu could barely suppress his anger. He forced himself to ask, “Where are you going?”
Wen Rui had no intention of telling him the truth. “I’m going on a trip.”
Lu Congzhi decided to make trouble. He deliberately leaned closer and asked, “Class Monitor, where are you going on holiday?”
Wen Rui turned toward him. “I’m going to look around the coast.”
Lu Congzhi wrapped an arm around his neck, following like a little shadow. “I’m coming too!”
Yu Binbin immediately raised his hand. “Me too!”
Zhou Ming grinned. “Can I join you?”
Lu Congzhi glared at them. “What are you two butting in for? I want some time alone with the Class Monitor, just the two of us. Class Monitor, come on. Let’s find somewhere private to discuss this.”
Just the two of us, my ass. Wen Rui’s face remained serene, but a vein bulged at his temple.
Half dragging, half embracing Wen Rui, Lu Congzhi led him out of the dormitory. Once outside and down the stairs, he whispered into Wen Rui’s ear, “That guy’s here. He texted me just now. I arranged to meet him in the cafeteria. Want to go together?”
“Let’s go.” Wen Rui did not shrink back.
Song Xiuzhu watched from the balcony as the two walked away with their arms around each other, his eyes thoughtful. He had, of course, told the director about the previous night’s events. She’d hemmed and hawed without explaining herself. Could the money really be problematic?
If Lu Congzhi wanted to ruin the director, what could be done? Was there some way to solve the problem once and for all?
Song Xiuzhu immediately texted the director: [Mom, Lu Congzhi is going on a trip to the coast.]
The director replied almost immediately: [I know. You don’t need to do anything. He won’t stand in your way.]
[Wen Rui is going with him.] Song Xiuzhu’s warning was indirect.
[People who are together can still be separated by all kinds of things.]
The director’s message was cryptic, but Song Xiuzhu guessed what it implied. There really was something wrong with her.
Yet his heart was strangely calm. He was only an outsider. What did it matter to him if Lu Congzhi and the director fought to the death?
Lu Congzhi met the man who had supplied the lead: a dark-skinned, wiry young fellow in his early twenties. He sat awkwardly in the cafeteria, watching the students come and go with envy in his eyes.
“I worked with Tang Hu at a shipyard in Minnan. Look, here’s his photograph.”
Lu Congzhi picked up the picture and studied it closely.
Tang Hu stood against a blackened wall, grinning foolishly, his face smeared with dirt and ash. Ever since his fever had damaged his brain, he seemed to have lost his awareness of the world around him. His eyes were empty.
In the past, when it was cold, Tang Hu would hold Lu Congzhi’s feet against his chest to warm them. When it was hot, he’d sit at the edge of the bed and fan him. When Lu Congzhi was sick, he’d worry; when Lu Congzhi misbehaved, he’d get angry.
That living, feeling Tang Hu, who could experience joy and anger and grief, had long ago been killed by the director. But even if all that remained was a dim, confused scrap of his soul, Lu Congzhi would bring him back.
Suppressing his excitement, Lu Congzhi asked calmly, “What’s his situation?”
The young man answered frankly. “He’s intellectually disabled and can’t hear. But he doesn’t ask for wages, so the boss has him pull cables. That’s simple work. You just need strength. Is he the person you’re looking for?”
Lu Congzhi nodded, urgency finally showing. “Where is he?”
“The shipyard is in Zini Town. The boss does business with a smuggling syndicate and people being smuggled across borders. He’s mixed up with the underworld. Bringing you there to find someone would be dangerous for me.” The young man glanced around fearfully. “The boss keeps a gang of thugs. Tang Hu is his slave laborer. They won’t let you take him away easily. I’ll only show you the way. You’ll have to negotiate with the boss yourself.”
Lu Congzhi took a deep breath. “No problem.”
“I saw the missing-person ad you posted.” Hope filled the young man’s voice. “Is the reward of a hundred thousand yuan real?”
Lu Congzhi nodded. “It’s real. But I won’t give you the money until I see him.”
“That’s fine. When will you go to Minnan with me?”
“I’ll buy the tickets this afternoon.” Lu Congzhi was a man of action. He stood immediately. “Give me your ID card and I’ll buy yours too.”
It was a test. Sure enough, the young man showed a flicker of panic. “You don’t need an ID card to buy train tickets.”
Lu Congzhi narrowed his eyes. “We’ll go by train if that’s what we have to do, but I’d rather fly if we can. Flying’s faster. It’s my first choice.”
The young man patted his pockets, embarrassed. “I’ve never been on a plane. I came by train. I didn’t bring my ID.”
Lu Congzhi glanced at Wen Rui. Wen Rui tapped his fingertips on the table. Both knew there had to be something wrong with a man who wouldn’t show his ID.
Lu Congzhi nodded. “All right, then. I’ll buy tickets on the earliest train. Wait for me at a hotel. We’ll keep in touch by phone.”
“Okay.”
The three parted ways. Lu Congzhi hurried back to the dormitory, pulled his suitcase from under the bed, and began packing. Remembering the three bodyguards at his apartment, Wen Rui said, “I’ll go home for some cash. Let’s meet at the train station.”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
They went their separate ways.
Yu Binbin clamored to come along, so Lu Congzhi leaned over and whispered a few things in his ear. Understanding dawned on him, and he passed a few words to Zhou Ming in turn. Zhou Ming nodded mysteriously.
Without anyone noticing when it happened, Song Xiuzhu had been completely excluded from the group. But even that lingering hurt was gone. He didn’t know what Lu Congzhi was going to do, only that trouble would certainly find him on the road. The director’s promises had always come true, without exception, ever since his childhood. If she said Lu Congzhi would no longer be an obstacle, Lu Congzhi would be moved aside.
A little after eight that evening, Lu Congzhi and Wen Rui met at the train station.
They shared a sleeper compartment, while the dark-skinned young man was in a different carriage some distance away. Lu Congzhi had arranged it deliberately. Keeping the young man apart made it easier to talk privately with Wen Rui.
The red-painted train had air-conditioning and was pleasantly cool. Lu Congzhi pointed to the lower berth. “You sleep here. I’ll sleep above you.”
Wen Rui shook his head. “You take the lower berth. I’ll sleep above.”
“Why are you arguing with me? I’m not some delicate little lady.”
“Am I?”
“You’re a pampered young master.”
“And you’re Naike Group’s market expansion consultant.”
“You’re the president of Xinglian Century, the future richest man in the world.”
“You’ve already launched your own brand. My company hasn’t even gotten on its feet.”
“But you’re my boss, President Wen!”
“You’re a shareholder. You’re President Lu.”
While they went back and forth, a short middle-aged man approached and sneered. “Young people these days sure know how to brag.”
Wen Rui’s cheeks instantly flushed crimson.
Lu Congzhi burst into laughter.
Wen Rui quickly regained his composure, put both suitcases on the rack, and climbed into the middle berth on his own.
He wasn’t going to argue with Lu Congzhi anymore. It was embarrassing.