Chapter 40

Chapter 40 Chapter Forty: Plum Wine.

The suddenly added itinerary disrupted all of Jian Qing’s plans.

—Not in the sense of being late; a family dinner did not have that many rules, and he was always used to leaving buffer time anyway. Even twenty minutes later would not matter.

What he meant was He Linfeng.

Although, under his supervision, the other only bought some ordinary fruit, Jian Qing still felt that something about it was strange.

The duplex apartment was close enough to the school, and because second-year high school students rarely had evening self-study, Xu Hao had never applied for a dormitory. So the moment Jian Qing entered, the boy greeted him cheerfully: “Bro!”

Probably due to a mutated form of the “imprint-like attachment” formed in a crisis, ever since being rescued, he had become noticeably closer to Jian Qing, no longer pretending to be obedient and quiet like before.

But Jian Qing still found it difficult to adapt to such energetic enthusiasm.

So he decisively stepped aside, revealing He Linfeng, who had been mostly blocked behind him.

Judging purely by personality, these two should have a lot to talk about.

“Brother He,” Xu Hao, just in time to brake and retract the bear hug he had almost directed at the wrong person, greeted politely. “So you really are good friends.”

The latter smoothly handed over the gift. “Hm?”

“Besides Bian Shao, my brother has never brought anyone else here for dinner,” Xu Hao said, raising two fingers and leaning in quietly. “You’re the second one.”

He Linfeng smiled warmly. “Thanks to you.” If not for Ning Shuyan’s invitation, he probably wouldn’t have had the chance in such a short time either.

Jian Qing, standing nearby and changing into slippers: …He could hear everything.

As expected, birds of a feather. Xu Hao’s uncle was also a designer, named “Xu Mo,” slightly younger in age but more steady in temperament.

Wearing an apron, he came out of the kitchen upon hearing the noise: “Qingqing is here.”

Ning Shuyan followed right behind. “Qingqing’s here!”

Jian Qing, already twenty-eight this year: …

If one were to be strict about it, his uncle was only one generation older than him, and even his aunt was only fourteen years older. Under this premise, the adult Jian Qing reasonably felt he should be treated as an equal, but clearly, the two in front of him had always treated him like a child.

Someone else, however, introduced himself very smoothly: “He Linfeng. Xiao He.”

As if deliberately emphasizing the same-generation identity.

After all, not long ago, he had been called “uncle” several times by Xu Hao.

“My husband, Xu Mo,” Ning Shuyan said naturally with a smile. “We’ve always wanted to invite you over properly to say thanks, but Qingqing said the city bureau has been especially busy lately, so it was delayed until now.”

“You must be tired from work. Come in and sit—I’ll go pour some tea.”

Although they both worked in professions that sounded artistically inclined, in reality the couple was extremely down-to-earth, far from the stereotype of people who never lift a finger.

At the very least, the aroma drifting from the kitchen was real enough.

He Linfeng responded cooperatively.

Then he sat down next to Jian Qing on the sofa, raising an eyebrow and asking softly, “Am I that busy?”

If he hadn’t taken the initiative to suggest dinner today, how long was this person planning to keep it from him?

“The case hasn’t been closed yet, so it’s better to avoid suspicion,” Jian Qing said calmly. “Going privately to a victim’s family for dinner—be careful you get reported.”

Like sophistry.

And also like a not-very-successful joke.

Yet He Linfeng shook his head with complete seriousness. “Wrong. When going to meet the parents with a friend… mmph.”

With quick reflexes, Jian Qing stuffed two washed strawberries into his mouth.

“…this is personal freedom,” He Linfeng stubbornly finished the second half of the sentence while puffing out his left cheek and chewing. Narrowing his fox-like eyes, he praised, “So sweet.”

Just then, Ning Shuyan, carrying a tray, walked to the back of the sofa: “Right? Qingqing loves strawberries and cherries the most. I specifically went to an orchard to pick them. I’ll pack some for you to take later.”

Jian Qing stood up and took the tray. “No need to go through so much trouble.”

Then he turned and almost bumped into He Linfeng, who had also just stood up.

“What trouble is that? You only come back once every few months,” Ning Shuyan couldn’t help nagging when this topic came up. “Your own place is often empty too. I think you might as well just live at the company.”

Steam rose warmly in the room. Jian Qing quietly set the cup down properly.

The plot and the transmigrator hung over his head like a blade. The closer he got to others, the more he needed to keep his distance, so they wouldn’t be harmed by some inexplicable disaster that fell from nowhere.

Only this matter, he had no way to explain.

“A while ago there was a project proposal I needed to oversee,” Jian Qing said half-truthfully, understanding that the other party was worried about him. “Not anymore. I don’t work overtime as much now.”

He Linfeng chimed in earnestly, “I can testify.”

“Jian Qing has been getting off work at six these past two months. It’s just that he always has to go report to the city bureau, so he doesn’t have time to come back.”

Ning Shuyan was immediately distracted.

Giving speeches at his alma mater, a junior from his department drowned at night; attending a banquet, a guest suddenly attacked someone with a knife; finally getting a free weekend, and then Xu Hao was kidnapped, keeping him busy running around.

Thinking of this, Ning Shuyan was left only with heartache.

“Going to the city bureau? Like when you saved someone the other day?” Xu Hao, the most innocent-minded person in the room with almost no exposure to the world of power and status, suddenly lit up, remembering Jian Qing’s dramatic entrance through the window that day.

He Linfeng confirmed, “Yes.”

“He even saved a girl who was almost having her throat slit before. When the bureau’s customized commendation banner arrives, let your brother bring it back for you to take a good look.”

“There might even be an award ceremony.”

Xu Hao’s eyes lit up even more.

He only knew about the trending topic “Jian Corporation CEO Secretly Meets Female Streamer at Night,” which had spread everywhere, and had never heard any of the inside details.

Very considerately, He Linfeng proactively chose parts that could be spoken about, satisfying the teenager’s curiosity like coaxing a child.

He spoke well—able to turn even the most ordinary story into something thrilling. Occasionally chatting with Ning Shuyan’s family about Jian Qing, the meal passed in a warm and harmonious atmosphere.

Halfway through, Jian Qing went to the balcony to answer a phone call.

It was Bian Shao.

The other party was probably just waking up after another reversed day-night schedule; the background was very quiet. “Off work yet? My stomach’s acting up a bit today. Come keep me company and have some porridge at Fushun Zhai?”

Jian Qing was already used to it.

Bian Shao liked liveliness, and most of his friends were drinking buddies—pulling an all-nighter was fine, but arranging something as healthy as congee together? That simply wasn’t the style of those rich second-generation kids.

“Let’s do it another day,” Jian Qing said casually, glancing at his wristwatch. “I’m at my aunt’s house.”

Apart from work and boxing, he rarely went out. Whether he could be reached depended entirely on chance. Bian Shao knew his personality well, so he didn’t insist.

“How’s Xu Hao?”

The kidnapping case triggered by the unfinished building had already been spreading wildly in their circles. Several people who felt uneasy had even hired bodyguards—like celebrities, followed wherever they went.

Xu Hao?

“……” Jian Qing turned back to look at the kid in the dining room who was being completely spun around by He Linfeng and gave a precise evaluation. “Full of energy.”

Not a trace of psychological trauma left.

“That’s good. I heard from my mom’s gossip that the Li family is now desperately borrowing money everywhere,” Bian Shao clicked his tongue sympathetically. “If they really go bankrupt, what about the one lying in the hospital bed?”

Then he changed tone. “But you absolutely must not soften your heart. If it weren’t for them, would Xu Hao have been in danger?”

“An unlucky guy who got accidentally injured.”

Jian Qing gave a low “mm.”

He was not a saint. He couldn’t repay evil with kindness. If things had gone even slightly differently, Xu Hao would have ended up exactly as the novel described. How could Jian Qing possibly forgive Li Guojian for smearing him with dirt?

Suddenly, someone pushed open the door behind him.

“Finished talking?” He Linfeng lowered his voice. “Madam Ning asked me to check on you—she was worried you might catch a chill.”

However, the words were still caught by Bian Shao on the other end of the phone.

“…You brought someone else to Aunt Ning’s house?” As if witnessing a collision between Mars and Earth, Bian Shao said in shock, “That police officer surnamed He?!”

Jian Qing instinctively replied, “Xu Hao wanted to thank him.”

“Alright, I’m hanging up.”

Bian Shao: “Hey, don’t—tell me more first—”

Jian Qing: “Hung up.”

The final sentence was clearly a notification. The young man didn’t even give the other side a chance to react.

He Linfeng raised his eyebrows slightly. “Bian Shao?”

Jian Qing paused for a moment before nodding.

His reaction was slightly slower than usual.

—At dinner, Madam Ning had opened two small jars of plum wine. The other three men couldn’t drink, so it all ended up in his cup.

Of course, this did not affect Jian Qing’s rationality, nor was it anywhere near the level of drunkenness. It was just that his skin was pale, so even a slight stimulus would spread into a large blush.

For example, the back of his neck faintly hidden under the shirt collar.

Or the faintly warm tips of his ears beneath his black hair.

The night wind brushed gently. He Linfeng reached out and pulled the young man standing at the edge of the open balcony slightly inward.

Jian Qing, whose head felt light and lazy, didn’t bother to struggle.

He only cast him a questioning glance.

“You’re too thin,” He Linfeng explained, his five fingers easily wrapping around the wrist that was at least two sizes slimmer than his own, the temperature also higher than usual. “I was afraid the wind would blow you off.”

Jian Qing suddenly thought of the peace talisman he had put away after washing his clothes.

He deeply suspected that this person was afraid of heights, but was constantly making excuses out of pride.

After a brief two-second hesitation, Jian Qing pulled his hand back. Before the other party left the balcony, he quickly ran his fingers along He Linfeng’s spine.

Like smoothing the fur of a small animal.

The suddenly “ambushed” He Linfeng: ?

“Really drunk?” he turned around amusedly and teased. “Since when do you also take advantage of people?”

Jian Qing: …

As expected, this person never spoke properly.

“So,” his way was blocked, and his mind wasn’t fully turning either. Seeing that the man had no intention of moving aside, Jian Qing slightly lifted his chin and fired back bluntly, “according to the rules of domineering CEO novels, should I say ‘thank you for your hospitality’?”

He casually sized up the man’s broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs, then adjusted his glasses as if evaluating whether the other was even worth those four words.

Almost instinctively, He Linfeng’s Adam’s apple rolled.

He had assumed the young man would, as always, ignore his teasing and walk around him.

After all, from the very first meeting, the other party had been subtly—or not so subtly—avoiding him, as if there were some kind of monster hidden beneath his skin.

This was the first time “He Linfeng” had been fully reflected in Jian Qing’s deep-colored eyes, stripped of every other identity.

A tingling current rose up his spine, scattering all the flippant remarks he was about to make. His gaze, as if tangible, swept over him inch by inch. Sensing some kind of invisible temptation, He Linfeng suddenly stepped back.

He was, after all, a normal adult man in both body and mind.

Yet Jian Qing continued to move forward.

Until the man’s shoulder hit the cold glass door with a dull thud.

Only then did he lightly curve his lips.

“Armchair theorist,” he said, as if he had found the key to dealing with this person, stopping in a satisfied mood, his breath carrying a faint scent of plum wine.

“He Consultant.”