Chapter 17

HUO SICHEN LEANED IN slightly. “So is this exciting enough for you?”

“Way too exciting,” Zhang Yuwen replied. “I’m going to kick Chen Hong’s ass when I get home.” In just a few seconds, he’d gone from confusion, to shock, to a mix of anger and amusement as he pieced together what was happening.

Obviously, these two were in cahoots! And Huo Sichen wasn’t a straight guy at all! There were no other explanations!

“It wasn’t his idea,” Huo Sichen said. “I told him not to tell you because I was nervous too, and I didn’t know how to explain it to you… about this. Will you sit down? You aren’t going to punch me in front of all these people, are you? I’ll be blacklisted from the restaurant.”

Zhang Yuwen sat down, and Huo Sichen breathed a sigh of relief.

With the sly grin of a man whose evil plot had succeeded, he motioned for the waiter to come over and pour them some water.

“So,” Zhang Yuwen said, “we’re on a blind date?”

The waiter glanced at them. Huo Sichen’s response came very naturally. “Yes. And an honor it is.”

A tsunami of complaints swelled forth in Zhang Yuwen’s heart, enough to sweep away Huo Sichen and the entire restaurant. “Give me a moment to calm down first.” He drank some water and looked away to take in the restaurant’s decor: the crystal chandeliers, the diners, and the pianist tinkling away on the piano, producing quiet music that added to the romantic ambiance.

Huo Sichen looked intently at the menu, then called the waiter to order. “We’ll get the couple’s set.”

“Certainly, sir. Would you like some wine?”

“Go ahead,” said Zhang Yuwen.

But Huo Sichen declined. “Not today. I need to stay sober to drive you home after dinner.”

The waiter put in their order, then came back to light a candle that sat in a small glass on their table.

“A candle for you,” Zhang Yuwen joked. “Rest in peace.”

Huo Sichen smiled. He didn’t retort.

Through the huge floor-to-ceiling window beside them, they could see a panoramic view of the city’s dazzling nightscape, with its twinkling lights, ribbons of traffic, and luminous winter moonlight.

Finally calm, Zhang Yuwen sized his date up, his gaze aggressive and his thoughts written on his face as he rated Huo Sichen. First up, his appearance. They were both dressed fairly formally, especially Huo Sichen, who looked dashing and elite. In Zhang Yuwen’s books, it was a pass.

Next up, his physique—i.e., his sex appeal. Zhang Yuwen had seen Huo Sichen’s long legs when they stayed overnight on the mountain. He gave him a high score. Then there was his personality and character… Zhang Yuwen curbed the fervor in his gaze and replaced it with his usual harmless smile. Huo Sichen felt certain that, in that half minute, he had been thoroughly catalogued and appraised.

“Should we go through the usual process?” Huo Sichen asked.

“Sure. On account of our intermediary.”

It didn’t take long for them to begin their usual back-and-forth banter. Huo Sichen made a “please” gesture to let Zhang Yuwen go first.

Zhang Yuwen used to write a lot of blind date scenes, which struck him as funny now that he thought about it. He laughed, then asked the classic question: “How much is your monthly parking fee?”

Huo Sichen laughed too. They couldn’t stop laughing, and it made them look younger, like students. “I, uh, own my home,” Huo Sichen replied. “A high-rise apartment at Franc Residences in Jiangbei. The parking came with the apartment.”

“Oh, I see.” Zhang Yuwen thought about it for a moment, then threw him another question. “What about mortgages?”

“There’s still a twelve-year mortgage. Uh…” “This is just standard blind date protocol.”

“No objections from me,” Huo Sichen assured him. “Ask away.”

Zhang Yuwen grinned impishly. “You must have already gotten all the info on me from Chen Hong, anyway.”

“No. I really haven’t.”

Zhang Yuwen looked at him skeptically but decided to believe him for the moment. Their appetizer arrived then, and they unfolded their napkins and set them on their laps.

Huo Sichen scooped some salad for Zhang Yuwen as he continued, “I work for a foreign trade company as the vice director. The boss is a friend of mine. I own a small number of shares in the company. Including my year-end bonus and share dividends, I take home an annual income of about five or six hundred thousand after taxes.”

“Oh.” Zhang Yuwen hadn’t dealt with money for a very long time.

After he achieved financial freedom, he’d lost touch with the salary benchmarks in various industries. All he knew was that a salary of ¥600,000 per year meant ¥50,000 a month, which fell within the range of a high-level executive.

“But I still have to pay off the mortgage.” Huo Sichen started on the salad. “The car is paid off, though. How about you?”

Zhang Yuwen repeated what he’d told Huo Sichen previously. “I work at a publishing house. I just need to go in for half a day every week to pick up the manuscripts to proofread at home. I’ve been working on my own manuscript lately, and I hope to publish a book.”

Echoing his own previous comment, Huo Sichen said, “That’s very impressive.” He looked at Zhang Yuwen expectantly, hoping he would volunteer more personal details about himself.

Zhang Yuwen thought it over and added, “My monthly salary is a little over six thousand, but with the year-end bonus, it’s maybe around a hundred thousand.”

“But you live in such an expensive house…” Huo Sichen trailed off.

“We aren’t there yet,” Zhang Yuwen said, displeased. “We haven’t gone through the process, so how would you know where I live?”

“Oh, that’s right. Yeah.” Huo Sichen adopted a serious expression.

“Where do you live?”

“No. 7 Riverbay Road,” said Zhang Yuwen. Huo Sichen feigned shock, and Zhang Yuwen added, “I’m looking after the house for a friend.”

Huo Sichen nodded.

“When my grandparents passed away, they left me a small shop in Jiangnan.” Zhang Yuwen paused briefly. “I’ve rented it out.”

“Collecting rent without lifting a finger. What an enviable position.”

Even Zhang Yuwen was finding the routine funny. They fell silent again, and Huo Sichen gestured to him: Did he want a bite?

“I’m from Yuhai,” Huo Sichen continued eventually. “I have an older brother named Huo Siting. He’s two years older than me, and he lives in Los Angeles now. Our parents are quite old now, and they moved there to live with him. I did my undergraduate studies in California and returned to Jiangdong for grad school at Chonghan University of Finance and Economics. I majored in foreign trade.”

“Oh.” Zhang Yuwen nodded. “I majored in communication studies and graduated with a bachelor’s degree. My grandparents raised me; my parents divorced when I was young.”

“So your grandparents were practically parents to you,” said Huo Sichen.

“I thought so. I’ve never felt like I was abandoned.”

“Of course not! Folks from Yuhai tend to marry late, and many fathers have children in their fifties, so it’s a lot like the relationship between a grandfather and his grandkids. The impression you give me is that of the youngest child in a large family.”

Zhang Yuwen chuckled. “You think so too?” Zhang Yuwen had always felt like he had some personality flaws, but he wasn’t sure if he should blame it on his divorced parents. The hardest thing for a person to know was themself, and even now, Zhang Yuwen still didn’t fully understand himself.

“You have a great personality,” Huo Sichen said earnestly.

“Really!”

“Thanks.”

The waiter cleared away the appetizers and soup and served the first course. “This restaurant is really expensive,” Zhang Yuwen said.

“It’s my first time here too,” Huo Sichen admitted. “My bank account isn’t crying yet; we should still eat more.”

Zhang Yuwen cracked up, knowing that Huo Sichen was just joking with him. With his income, he could easily afford a place like this.

“Are we done with the process?” Huo Sichen asked.

“Let me think about it,” said Zhang Yuwen.

“Can I ask a question?”

Zhang Yuwen looked at him. He seemed much more handsome than the first time they met. Maybe it was the lighting, or perhaps the effort he’d made to dress up today; Zhang Yuwen could tell he’d even gone to get a haircut.

“Why did you decide to come?” Huo Sichen asked.

“Because this restaurant is very expensive, and the other party is paying. It’s always good to broaden my horizons.”

They laughed again. Zhang Yuwen knew very well that Huo Sichen was sounding him out, but he didn’t take the bait and kept deflecting Huo Sichen’s questions with humor. Huo Sichen knew that he couldn’t do anything about this.

But the next question was what Huo Sichen really wanted to ask. “If you’d known it was me beforehand, would you still have come?”

“Of course,” Zhang Yuwen said. “A place like this, I’d come no matter who was treating.”

Zhang Yuwen doubled over with laughter as Huo Sichen’s face went red. No matter how many times Huo Sichen tried to feel him out, he could never get the serious answer he wanted. Instead, he’d revealed his own feelings for Zhang Yuwen and his intent to date him.

In truth, Huo Sichen’s intentions had been exposed from the very moment he had Chen Hong set him up with Zhang Yuwen. There was a strange phenomenon that often existed in romantic relationships—whoever fell in love first lost. Huo Sichen had already lost the right to call the shots.

Zhang Yuwen didn’t use it against him, though. He just said, “That’s all for the formalities. Let’s talk about something else. Is foreign trade tiring?”

“Easier than being a writer,” said Huo Sichen. “But it’s mentally exhausting with the economy going downhill these past few years, and the work environment is tough. I’ve been considering a career change recently.”

Zhang Yuwen nodded. “I’m not very ambitious, so I can’t really understand the work pressure other people deal with.”

“Not struggling is the best kind of ambition.”

As they joked with each other, a lithe woman in a black dress who’d just walked into the restaurant came over to greet Huo Sichen. “Hi, Mr.

Huo, long time no see.”

Huo Sichen looked surprised, not having expected to see an acquaintance here. He quickly put down the teapot he’d been pouring from and nodded at her. “Hello. It’s been a while.”

Zhang Yuwen glanced at the woman but didn’t pry. The woman didn’t linger and left after they exchanged a few pleasantries.

The main course arrived—a large steak. The waiter stood at the side and cut it for them.

“Why is his bigger?” Zhang Yuwen asked the waiter.

“Because I’m obviously the top,” Huo Sichen said to Zhang Yuwen.

“Tops have bigger appetites. Bottoms can fill their stomachs with just salad.”

The waiter laughed so hard he could barely hold the knife steady.

The music in the restaurant turned into a lively saxophone melody.

“Do you live alone?” Zhang Yuwen asked.

“Yeah,” Huo Sichen replied. “Wanna come over to my place later for some fun?”

“What fun is there at your place?”

“I promise, everything at my place is fun. It all depends on what you wanna play.”

Zhang Yuwen meant to ask him for game recommendations; he hadn’t expected Huo Sichen to be such a consummate flirt. He wanted to ask Huo Sichen about his relationship history, like how many exes he had, but he held himself back. “You don’t have pets?”

“Nope.”

“I always thought you were straight.”

The 180-degree turn in the topic came out of nowhere, but Huo Sichen steered skillfully around it. “That proves that you can be mistaken sometimes.”

“I’m often mistaken, but I think you were definitely straight before.”

“I’m not now, at least,” Huo Sichen said. “What about you? I think you’ve always been gay.”

“Yup. My ex and I broke up the year before last.”

“Who’s the lucky guy? Let me see if he looks like me.”

“Not at all,” Zhang Yuwen said. He scrolled through his phone for a photo to show Huo Sichen. Guys were usually pretty casual about discussing their exes. For a moment, while showing Huo Sichen the photo of his ex, Zhang Yuwen forgot he was on a blind date. He felt like he was just sharing with a friend.

“Indeed,” Huo Sichen said.

Zhang Yuwen looked at Huo Sichen. “Shouldn’t you reciprocate?”

“My ex was a woman. I don’t think you’d be interested. And I’ve deleted all her photos anyway. I’ll show you another day if I can find one.”

There was Zhang Yuwen’s answer. “Oh. Nah, keep it for yourself.”

He sized up Huo Sichen again. “You prefer women like the one who was here earlier?”

“She’s my ex’s best friend,” Huo Sichen explained. “We’ve only met a few times.”

“Oh.” Zhang Yuwen nodded.

Huo Sichen’s attention was still on Zhang Yuwen’s past. “The boy in the photo—he’s your type, right?”

“Yeah.”

Dessert was served, a heart-shaped mousse with two spoons. Zhang Yuwen and Huo Sichen each dug into a side, mangling the heart.

“I remember you mentioning your ideal type earlier.” Huo Sichen thought for a moment. “What’s your ideal type like? Exactly like your ex?”

“Not exactly…” Zhang Yuwen was finding the mousse awfully sweet; he wasn’t used to eating overly sweet stuff. “I don’t have a fixed type, or rather, I have several. Like several sets, and if they overlap, even better.”

Huo Sichen finally asked the question. “Am I in any of those sets?”

Zhang Yuwen sized him up again. “I guess? But I can tell you that someone like Chen Hong isn’t in any of them.”

“What? Repeat that first sentence?”

“I can tell you that someone like Chen Hong—”

“No, before that.”

“You heard me.”

“I didn’t. Say it again?”

“I said, I guess!” Zhang Yuwen raised his voice a little.

Huo Sichen turned to the waiter. “Check, please!”

Surprisingly enough, Huo Sichen ordered takeout too. “For your roommates.”

Zhang Yuwen accidentally glanced at the bill: ¥4,760—a month’s rent. He was about to say something when Huo Sichen spoke up. “I get it now. You like two types of guys: the gentle, younger ones, and the mature, older ones. Both are your ideal types.”

Huo Sichen had seen through him. “I guess that’s it,” Zhang Yuwen admitted.

“You also like guys who can act cute, right?” Huo Sichen asked as they entered the elevator. He was carrying the takeout bag.

“Yup.” An idea occurred to him. “Act cute for me?”

“I don’t know how to,” Huo Sichen answered.

“What? How can you be gay if you don’t even know how to act cute?”

“I can learn.”

“Forget it.”

They both burst out laughing simultaneously.

“So, tell me.” Huo Sichen opened the passenger door when they came to the parking lot, placed the takeout bag inside, and gestured politely for Zhang Yuwen to get in. “What’s your reason for putting me in that category?”

Zhang Yuwen buckled his seat belt. When Huo Sichen got in, he answered without hesitation. “You’re rich.”

At a loss for words, Huo Sichen drove the car out of the parking lot and took Zhang Yuwen home.

“You’re rich, and I’m poor,” Zhang Yuwen elaborated.

“Freeloading off of you will allow me to improve my quality of life and widen my horizons.”

Huo Sichen sang his praises highly. “Zhang Yuwen, you truly are a sincere person. Out of curiosity, can I ask if there’s something you’re lying to me about?”

“Of course there is,” Zhang Yuwen replied. “What about you?”

“Me too.” Huo Sichen kept his left hand on the steering wheel and waved his right hand to imply that it wasn’t important.

“Mutual deception is one of life’s little pleasures,” said Zhang Yuwen. “I trust that you won’t be angry.”

“Of course not,” said Huo Sichen. “But then again, what we consider important might not have the same significance to someone else.”

“Absolutely,” Zhang Yuwen agreed.

“So…” As they crossed the bridge, Huo Sichen finally asked his last question. “Do you think we…could give it a go? I mean, hang out together more frequently, and if it feels right, start dating?”

In a rare display of nerves, he glanced at Zhang Yuwen. The car stopped in front of No. 7 Riverbay Road.

Zhang Yuwen answered readily. “Sure, I’d love to, but don’t pick such an expensive place next time. Now I need to hurry inside and beat up Chen Hong. I’ll contact you again when I have time. Bye!”

“Don’t forget the takeout.” Huo Sichen handed him the food. “And don’t swing the paper bag at him. It’s not very sturdy.”

Zhang Yuwen skipped to the entrance and leapt up midway to touch a leaf on the roadside tree. Huo Sichen whistled at him and drove away.

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