APR 35

For the next several days, Zhong Su lived in undisturbed peace. He had initially expected to receive a call from Chen Huan inquiring about the contract signing, but in reality, Chen Huan seemed to have completely forgotten his existence, remaining silent for a long while.

However, Da Xiong did send him a few sporadic text messages. Attached to these messages were more detailed directions to “Zhong Su’s” gravesite, clearly somewhat awkward yet subtly hinting, “The Mingyuequan Cemetery is open from Monday to Friday. You can visit Xiao Zhong Ge anytime to pay your respects.” Beyond that, there was nothing else.

Zhong Su decided to stop overthinking it. Once the day Jiang Xun had promised for the transfer arrived, he went straight to the bank to check his passbook.

Seeing the expected increase of 35,000 in his account, he let out a relieved sigh, tucked the passbook securely against his body, and returned to his rented apartment. He needed to make thorough plans first and withdraw the entire sum in one go later.

Under the warm white light in the room, Zhong Su worked on a spreadsheet, the tip of his pen scratching softly against the paper as he listed out the expenses for leaving the city.

“Transportation, accommodation, meals…” Zhong Su muttered under his breath, tapping the paper with his pen while lightly patting his cheek with the passbook. “Calculating it this way, 35,000 is more than enough to settle down inland.”

When he had requested an advance of half the filming fee, he never had any intention of dutifully completing the shoot.

What a joke—the original owner of this body was buried in debt, constantly at risk of being hunted down by loan sharks or the ex-girlfriend’s lover. How foolish would he have to be to sit around waiting for others to come after him?

As for this “35,000,” Zhong Su considered it merely a partial recovery from the money he had left for Chen Huan in that box—returning what was rightfully his, not swindling Chen Huan out of anything.

As for his belongings, what absolutely needed to be taken with him…

[“I personally sent Su Er into the cremation furnace. I watched him turn to ashes and had his remains made into this string of beads.”]

The moment Chen Huan grabbed him by the hair and lifted him up, Zhong Su had heard those words clearly and seen that porcelain-white bracelet distinctly.

Zhong Su shook his head, trying to dispel the chaotic thoughts. His fingertips unconsciously pressed against his lips, rubbing them restlessly as a bold idea stirred within him. “Indeed… only by taking my own ashes with me can I truly feel at ease.”

Chen Huan was not someone to be trifled with, but Zhong Su had never been a pushover either. If the other party refused to hand over the bracelet, couldn’t he just take it himself?

Zhong Su took out his phone, found Chen Huan’s number in his contacts, and pondered for a moment. In his current identity, he certainly couldn’t call and straightforwardly demand the bracelet.

If he wanted to retrieve it smoothly, he needed to propose a reason that Chen Huan would absolutely not refuse.

After a moment of contemplation, he pressed the call button. The other end picked up after a short while, Chen Huan’s voice lazy and magnetic, carrying a detached indifference as if nothing concerned him.

“What is it?”

Zhong Su lowered his eyes, striving to keep his tone steady as he lied, “Chen Huan, I was cleaning up the place earlier and found a photo album that Xiao Zhong Ge left behind. The photos are of no use to me. Do you want them?”

Chen Huan remained silent on the other end, only the faint sound of his breathing audible.

Just as the silence stretched to the point of becoming unbearable, Chen Huan spoke again, his voice so light it seemed to casually brush against the eardrums like the tip of a blade: “What’s in the photo?”

Zhong Su glanced down at his empty hand and the departure plan on the table, his fingers unconsciously curling. Without changing his expression, he replied: “Something very precious, something you’d really want.”

Zhong Su then asked: “Where are you?”

“You want to come find me?” Chen Huan let out a soft, ambiguous laugh. “Fine, come over. We’ll talk face to face.”

Chen Huan gave the location of a residential area. Zhong Su initially thought it was his home address, but upon arriving by taxi, he discovered it was an upscale private kitchen called “Orchid Room.”

Orchid Room operated out of a standalone villa, with a small sign hanging beside the doorplate. The front courtyard was designed as a Japanese dry landscape garden, where lush bamboo served as natural partitions, cleverly dividing the corridor and spacious yard into relatively private small spaces.

“Sir, Orchid Room is only serving one table of guests tonight. If you wish to dine, it’s best to make a reservation by phone at least a week in advance,” the cheongsam-clad hostess said with a polite smile, though a trace of barely noticeable arrogance flickered in her eyes.

Facing the subtle scrutiny of the beauty in cheongsam, Zhong Su didn’t need to look to know how out of place his cheap shirt and jeans appeared in such a setting.

But he wasn’t here to eat, so he didn’t need to worry about whether he could afford anything on the menu.

“Chen Huan told me to come here. I’m looking for him,” Zhong Su said, casually tapping the landline on the counter. “You can confirm with him right now, but I hope you’ll be quick. Don’t waste my time.”

After speaking, he patiently waited for the hostess to make the call.

Once she hung up, her attitude toward Zhong Su noticeably became more respectful as she carefully set down the receiver.

“Sir, my apologies for the delay. Please follow me this way.” The cheongsam-clad beauty led Zhong Su in her high heels to a private room and opened the door for him.

“Mr. Chen, good evening. This gentleman is here to see you…”

The room was bathed in warm yellow light, with the scents of incense and warm food intermingling in the air.

Chen Huan sat at the head of the table, a cigarette held between his fingers as he leisurely exhaled a puff of smoke. The faint blue haze dissipated, lending his sharply defined features a somewhat decadent aura. Most striking was his left eyebrow—a distinct break ran through the arch, wild and untamed, exuding a cold, fierce intensity.

Surrounding Chen Huan were several people. Aside from Shou Hou, whom Zhong Su recognized, the other men and women were unfamiliar faces, all dressed elegantly and clearly either wealthy or influential.

They seemed to be acquaintances with some connection to Chen Huan, chatting and laughing casually, evidently in the midst of a simple private gathering.

As the door opened, all eyes instantly turned to Zhong Su standing outside, their gazes openly appraising.

Meeting the sudden focus of attention, Zhong Su calmly greeted Chen Huan: “Long time no see. This time, I didn’t get stuck in traffic.”

Chen Huan’s gaze swept over Zhong Su’s empty hands, raising an eyebrow in understanding. “You arrived quite quickly, so eager to deliver yourself, but where’s the item?”

Zhong Su: “You said we’d discuss it in person. The photo album can wait a little longer.”

“Sounds like a scammer’s sales pitch, yet somehow makes people anticipate it.” Chen Huan remarked indifferently, gesturing for someone to add another chair for Zhong Su.

Chen Huan didn’t introduce Zhong Su, and Zhong Su had no interest in introducing himself to strangers either.

But with an extra person suddenly appearing at the dinner table, boldly sitting right beside Chen Huan, everyone couldn’t help glancing back and forth between the two, inwardly puzzled: they’d never seen anyone by his side before, let alone brought to such an occasion.

One nosy person couldn’t resist testing the waters: “Mr. Chen, this is truly rare. It’s the first time we’ve seen you bring an unfamiliar face. Is this a newcomer your company plans to promote? He looks quite promising – handsome face, fair skin, and an indescribably special aura.”

He insinuated with flattery: “As expected of you, your taste is truly unique. When you don’t make a move, nothing happens, but when you do, you pick the very best.”

“Compared to him, those minor celebrities I’ve dealt with before…” He shook his head and clicked his tongue, laughing self-deprecatingly, “Standing next to this one, they’re like crows next to a phoenix – completely unremarkable.”

After he finished speaking, everyone at the table burst into laughter. Several glances met with mutual understanding, silently conveying the same thought: this young man was most likely Chen Huan’s kept lover.

Some secretly lamented: why hadn’t they encountered such an attractive person first and taken them for themselves?

Zhong Su frowned and was about to speak when he saw Chen Huan take a sip of wine, a smile playing on his lips, his tone as casual as discussing the weather: “Is the food here so satisfying that it’s addled your brain? What makes him worthy of my promotion?”

The one who’d just joked immediately choked up, forcing an awkward dry laugh: “Just making casual conversation to liven the mood among friends. We all laugh it off, no one takes it seriously…”

“Is it funny?” Chen Huan seemed genuinely affected by the alcohol, his inherently bad temper now completely unrestrained.

He curled his lip, his expression turning icy: “It seems I’ve been too agreeable these past few years, making every Tom, Dick and Harry think they’re somebody, daring to joke about me.”

“No, Mr. Chen, you misunderstand… Ah!”

Chen Huan paid no more attention to his excuses. He picked up a bottle of wine from the table and poured it over the man’s head. Amber liquid streamed down the man’s hair and panicked face, soaking his expensive shirt.

“Since your mind isn’t clear, you should sober up properly.”

Chen Huan’s tone remained even as he meticulously poured out the last drop, then suddenly smashed the bottle at the man’s feet. The sharp sound and flying glass shards made the man jerk his feet back, his face alternating between green and pale, yet he didn’t dare make a sound.

Everyone in the room was stunned by this sudden turn of events, falling into terrified silence.

“What a mood-killer.” Chen Huan waved his hand dismissively, as if he’d just swatted a bothersome fly. “I’m no longer in the mood to continue. Tonight ends here. Everyone disperse.”

“Brother Chen, I’ll go get the car right away.” Shou Hou quickly smoothed things over, gesturing for the others to leave as well.

The unfortunate man didn’t dare say more, wiping the spilled liquor from his face haphazardly with his sleeve. He pushed away Shou Hou’s attempt to assist him, then stormed out of the room in a mixture of anger and cowardice.