Chapter 6#

Paying#

“I’m sorry, sir, but this bank card of yours has also been frozen.”

Three days later, the only bank card remaining under Han Qingsu’s name was completely unusable.

“Your room charges for this week total 67,326 yuan,” the receptionist said.

Han Qingsu frowned: “Why is this card frozen?”

“I apologize, sir, we aren’t sure either. You might need to go to the bank and ask,” the receptionist smiled, “How would you like to make the payment?”

Han Qingsu never imagined he could be stumped by a few tens of thousands of yuan, but his first reaction wasn’t embarrassment—it was rage.

His phone rang at just the right moment.

“Hold on.” Han Qingsu glanced at the caller ID, walked to the side, and picked up the phone.

“Brother Su.” Chu Jingyuan’s voice, carrying a hint of pleasant surprise, came through the other end, “You finally decided to answer my call. I thought—”

“What’s going on with the bank cards?” Han Qingsu cut off his tedious small talk.

Chu Jingyuan paused: “Huh?”

“Quit playing dumb with me, dammit!” Han Qingsu suppressed his anger and took a few more steps forward, “Chu Jingyuan, I’ve treated you well, haven’t I? For the past two years, I’ve given you my heart and soul, letting you manage every asset under my name, and this is how you treat me?! What kind of soul-stealing potion did Qin Fu feed you to make you so blindly loyal to him?”

“Brother Han, I really didn’t touch those seven million in the card, but I don’t know why it was frozen,” Chu Jingyuan said in a gentle voice, “Don’t get upset. Come back to A City and I’ll help you check where—”

“Seven million? Is that even money?! I gave you seventy million!” Han Qingsu roared, “I’m asking about you and Qin Fu!”

The person on the other end fell silent, followed by Chu Jingyuan’s apologetic voice: “Qin Fu and I met when we were studying abroad. He proposed to me before we returned, but the Qin family ran into trouble, so he returned first. Two years ago, I came back to help him.”

Han Qingsu chuckled: “So, in order to help your fiancé, you climbed into my bed?”

Chu Jingyuan said: “I couldn’t just watch him have nowhere else to turn.”

“So you watched me have nowhere else to turn instead.” Han Qingsu took a deep breath, “Then what was with those dozens of phone calls a day?”

“I just wanted to tell you ‘sorry’ in person,” Chu Jingyuan whispered, “Brother Su, you really are a good person. No one has ever treated me as well as you have. That day, when I saw the engagement ring you had hidden away, I even thought that living like that wouldn’t be so bad. But… I’m sorry, Brother Su, the only person I have ever loved is Qin Fu. Brother Su, take me off your blacklist, and I’ll transfer money to you.”

“Screw your mother,” Han Qingsu gritted his teeth and sneered, “Chu Jingyuan, I don’t care about the money. Just consider it me being blind. Get lost, you dirty whore.”

He hung up the phone, struggling to keep himself from smashing it to the ground.

The seven million in the card was originally pocket money he’d set aside for Han Qingran, but Han Qingran hadn’t wanted it, so it had just been left in his wallet. In the end, it became his only asset that hadn’t been frozen. The luxury mansions and sports cars under his name had all been seized overnight, the real estate worth over a billion that he’d given to Chu Jingyuan had long since been transferred, and his companies and equity were a tangled mess. He had never paid attention to them, just spending money as he pleased. He had previously felt incredibly lucky to have found such a smart and capable “wife” in Chu Jingyuan, only for it to turn out that it was all for his money!

“Fuck.” Han Qingsu looked grimly at the phone balance and a string of numbers with A City area codes, but his eyes finally settled on the only one with a Wucheng area code.

Lin Muhan had just finished a long-haul trip and was cracking open a can of beer when he received Han Qingsu’s call.

“Hello, who is this?” He pushed the beer aside and leaned back on the sofa, his smile reflected in the black television screen.

“It’s me.” Han Qingsu’s irritable voice fell into his ears, an imperative tone, carrying that unattractive sense of entitlement typical of a young master, “Bring seventy thousand yuan over here.”

He recited an address.

The smile on Lin Muhan’s face deepened: “Alright, Brother Han, I’ll be there right away.”

He hung up the phone, turned on the TV, drank the beer at a leisurely pace, and fell soundly asleep on the sofa.

Han Qingsu waited for seven or eight hours, from noon until dusk. He waited in the hotel lobby, enduring the suspicious stares of the receptionist and the security guards outside, as if they were terrified he’d dine and dash. When had Young Master Han ever endured such an insult? Several times he wanted to throw a tantrum, but he forced himself to hold back, only irritably swiping on his phone, staring back and forth at Lin Muhan’s number until he had it almost memorized.

Yet, even so, he stubbornly refused to call Lin Muhan a single time.

Just as Han Qingsu’s patience was exhausted and he stood up, a figure came running in hastily. The man panted as he scanned the room, and upon seeing him, let out a breath of relief, shouting: “Brother Han!”

At once, everyone’s eyes fell upon them.

Since he needed the favor, Han Qingsu didn’t throw a fit, only scowling and saying: “Why did you just get here?”

Beads of sweat clung to the tip of Lin Muhan’s nose, his dark eyes fixed straight on him as he wheezed: “I was busy… scraping the money together.”

Han Qingsu was taken aback, surprised: “You don’t have seventy thousand yuan?”

Lin Muhan wiped his sweat, feeling embarrassed: “Cleaning out the family savings for my grandfather’s treatment drained everything, and I had to borrow a lot. I only finished paying off the debts last year.”

Han Qingsu wasn’t interested in his financial situation, only saying impatiently: “Go pay.”

Lin Muhan went to the front desk, pulled a thick stack of cash from his pocket, and then handed over a bank card and a credit card, saying: “Take the rest from the credit card.”

“Alright, one moment please.” The receptionist also let out a sigh of relief.

It was the first time Han Qingsu had seen someone pay using a combination of cash and credit cards. The young master had never felt so humiliated in his life; he wanted nothing more than to turn and leave, but seeing Lin Muhan drenched in sweat, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

“I’m sorry, you’re still short 703 yuan.” The receptionist looked up, somewhat embarrassed.

Lin Muhan took out his phone and asked: “I’ll scan the QR code.”

After a ‘beep’, the receptionist felt relieved, and Lin Muhan felt relieved as well. Only Han Qingsu wished he could find a hole to crawl into.

“Sir, your things are still in the room. Here is your room card.” The receptionist placed the card on the counter.

“I don’t want them.” Han Qingsu turned and walked away.

“Sir—”

“Brother Han?” Lin Muhan looked at the departing Han Qingsu and said to the receptionist, “You can dispose of them then.”

Han Qingsu only managed to catch his breath once he stepped out of the hotel, but was immediately slapped in the face by the biting cold wind.

Lin Muhan followed him out, and both of them tacitly avoided mentioning what happened a few days ago. Lin Muhan asked: “Brother Han, where are you going? I’ll give you a ride.”

Han Qingsu was feeling incredibly agitated and his tone was harsh: “Mind your own business, don’t worry about me. I’ll get the money to you in a couple of days.”

Lin Muhan hesitated, but Han Qingsu was already walking ahead.

Han Qingsu’s mind was in total chaos. He was penniless, his phone was dead, and all he had on him was his ID card. Everything had happened so suddenly that he felt a sense of surreal unreality.

The night wind was piercingly cold. He was only wearing a thin trench coat. He wasn’t familiar with the roads of Wucheng and didn’t know where he had ended up, so he sat down on a roadside bench, staring blankly at the maple leaves drifting under the streetlamp.

But the young master had been coddled all his life. Before all this happened, the greatest hardship he’d ever suffered was the half-hour he spent kneeling on the floor when he came out to his family—and he had specifically chosen the place with the thickest carpet to kneel on. Before this, his life had been as smooth as could be, filled with luxury and excess. He lacked Qin Fu’s perseverance to endure humiliation, and he lacked Han Qingran’s courage to start over. He couldn’t even summon the courage to kill himself. He scratched his hair in despair, thinking it would be best if this streetlamp just fell and crushed him to death.

An old, beat-up car pulled over to the side of the road.

Lin Muhan walked over and sat down next to him. He didn’t say a word, popped a cigarette into his mouth, handed one to him, shielded it from the wind to light it, and turned to look at him: “It’s the expensive kind. Won’t make you cough.”

Han Qingsu glanced at him and took it into his mouth. Lin Muhan leaned in and lit it with his own cigarette. He was very close; when he leaned in, the wisps of hair on his forehead brushed against the bridge of Han Qingsu’s nose, his dense eyelashes trembling slightly under the dim streetlamp. He smelled of cheap shampoo, yet his jacket was broad and thick, making Han Qingsu feel a rare trace of warmth in the wind.

After lighting the cigarette, he didn’t pull away immediately but looked up and stared straight at Han Qingsu. He was handsome and cold; the way he looked at people felt oppressive, yet impossible to look away from.

Han Qingsu was never a gentleman. He took the cigarette away, hooked his arm around Lin Muhan’s neck, and kissed him.

This kiss was clearer than the previous one. Lin Muhan held the cigarette between his fingers and didn’t refuse, though in the end, he bit Han Qingsu hard.

Han Qingsu was sensitive to pain; he gasped and squinted at him, disgruntled: “Are you part dog?”

Lin Muhan tugged at the corner of his mouth and sat upright, leaning back against the bench.

“Fuck.” Han Qingsu glanced down, “You can even do… that?”

Lin Muhan gave him a sharp pat on the lower back, causing Han Qingsu to arch his back suddenly and choke on his smoke, falling into a fit of coughing.

“Aren’t you the same?” Lin Muhan puffed a mouthful of smoke at his forehead.

Han Qingsu glared at him, laughing while coughing: “Damn, you’re a psycho.”

Lin Muhan laughed too, watching the fine, dense drizzle drift down from the dim light, biting the cigarette until his gums ached, and said: “I thought I’d never see you again in this life.”

“Yeah.” Han Qingsu’s laughter faded, his arms resting on his knees as he stared at the burning cigarette in his hand without answering.

Lin Muhan flicked the ash and looked at the traffic on the road: “Brother, come home with me.”

The rain grew heavier, raindrops splashing sporadically through the leaves and branches. The curb gradually became damp, and the cold wind brought up a smell of wet earth, mixed with the scent of smoke and Lin Muhan himself—strange and distant.

Han Qingsu lowered his eyes and gave a self-deprecating smile.