Chapter 30#

Tan Xiao’s prediction of Zhou Ruofei was quite accurate; he was a brother who loved to bluster but was actually very easy to coax.

Initially, he was clamoring for Tan Xiao to come to his presidential suite immediately to discuss the stakes of Tan Xiao’s “going gay” in person. However, as soon as Tan Xiao said he had an appointment with his advisor for 8:00 AM tomorrow and it wasn’t convenient to travel that far tonight, Zhou Ruofei immediately understood and accepted.

“Then hurry up and send that guy surnamed Zhang away. Go back and sleep early. Don’t you know what’s more important?” Zhou Ruofei asked suspiciously, “Did you really pass your defense? You’re not going to fail to graduate because of this relationship, are you?”

Tan Xiao said, “Don’t curse me! I’ve already passed my defense. My advisor wants to talk to me about something else.”

Zhou Ruofei said, “I’ve already bragged to everyone that my brother is getting his Ph.D. in finance from Tsinghua at twenty-four. If you delay your graduation, I’ll be humiliated. How about this: if you do delay, just change your age. Either way, you must graduate at twenty-four.”

Finally, he said, “Come see me after you meet your advisor tomorrow.”

Tan Xiao hung up the phone, and Zhang Xingchuan said incredulously, “What kind of style does this brother of yours have?”

He didn’t remember Zhou Ruofei’s specific appearance well either, only that he was a neutral beauty who wore very strong perfume. His overall impression was vague—he didn’t remember his hairstyle, features, or clothing—but he was certainly a stereotypical early 2D-style handsome gay man. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have misunderstood Tan Xiao’s sexual orientation so quickly.

When this handsome “fake gay man” spoke, he turned out to be a real street-smart “hutong crawler.”

“You wouldn’t be able to tell,” Tan Xiao said, “but he also has a master’s in business from Bocconi University.”

Zhang Xingchuan: “Whoa.”

Stereotypes really are unreliable.

Tan Xiao had to go back and rest, so he could only end today’s date with Zhang Xingchuan.

Before leaving, Zhang Xingchuan hesitated and asked, “Do you need me to go with you to see your Brother Xiao Zhou tomorrow?”

Tan Xiao said, “No, he’d explode on the spot if he saw you. I’ve already discovered today that he has a huge misunderstanding about our relationship’s private life.”

“How so?” Zhang Xingchuan asked.

“Well…” Tan Xiao gestured, finding it hard to describe accurately with words, “He seems to think I’m being BDSM-ed by you every day.”

“…” Zhang Xingchuan had never even considered that those four letters could one day be associated with him.

He had cleared his stereotypes about Brother Xiao Zhou, but Brother Xiao Zhou’s stereotypes about him were quite wicked.

From the beginning, Tan Xiao had no intention of letting Zhang Xingchuan and Zhou Ruofei meet directly. Zhou Ruofei viewed Zhang Xingchuan through tinted glasses; meeting like that wouldn’t be fair and would only give him an opportunity to make things difficult for Zhang Xingchuan for no reason. Why should he let his husband suffer such grievances?

Another reason was that Tan Xiao was very clear on one point: Zhou Ruofei didn’t care who his boyfriend was. Zhou Ruofei just wanted to persuade him to return from his “lost path.” Whether he was dating Li Xingchuan or Zhao Xingchuan was irrelevant; Zhou Ruofei didn’t care about the person himself at all.

If he hadn’t appeared before Zhou Ruofei as Tan Yun’s biological brother, Zhou Ruofei wouldn’t have cared about such a Chinese child.

Of course, Zhou Ruofei had been and still was very sincere to him. He believed that even if he cut all ties with the Doria family now, Zhou Ruofei wouldn’t break off with him. The feelings developed over more than a decade were very real.

He would just coax this brother again tomorrow and wait until he returned to the US.

In Tan Xiao’s view, Zhou Ruofei’s opposition wasn’t a major problem to begin with. Knowing that Zhou Ruofei would “report” him, Tan Xiao still took the initiative to reveal his relationship to him, as he wasn’t afraid of his family finding out.

Whether it was Tan Minhong or Tan Yun, it would be best if they didn’t oppose it. If they did, he would deal with whatever came his way; at worst, he would part ways with the Doria family.

That’s the kind of person he was—solve problems as they arise, live well when there are none, and never be anxious in advance.

Zhang Xingchuan was different. A person who loved making and executing plans, appearing calm and in control, was essentially always considering potential risks.

Tan Xiao was going to meet his advisor and Zhou Ruofei tomorrow.

Zhang Xingchuan had varying degrees of concern and worry about these two events.

Although Tan Xiao hadn’t told him directly, he could guess that meeting his advisor at this point could only be to discuss his career choices after graduation. Tan Xiao had always trusted his advisor, and whatever advice he gave would likely have a decisive influence on Tan Xiao.

As for the meeting with Zhou Ruofei.

Zhang Xingchuan had already refreshed his understanding of this business master. He had been worried he would be a difficult eccentric, but now he didn’t think he would be a problem. Tan Xiao was a master at coaxing people; he should be able to smooth things over with Young Master Zhou and send him back to the US.

Zhang Xingchuan’s worry had other reasons.

He could perceive that Tan Xiao didn’t want him to face Zhou Ruofei directly, and he understood that Tan Xiao didn’t want him to face potentially embarrassing scenes. The more he knew Tan Xiao was thinking of him, the more his mood suffered.

Their relationship had encountered a small wave, and they should have faced it together, but Zhang Xingchuan couldn’t help at all.

He and Zhou Ruofei were worlds apart in terms of material wealth and social status. If he hadn’t unwittingly become Tan Xiao’s intimate lover, he would likely have had no intersection with Zhou Ruofei in this life.

There was a cruel fact that he was very aware of: as a small entrepreneur, he didn’t even have the qualifications to sit at the same table as Zhou Ruofei for a conversation.

And this was just Zhou Ruofei. The Zhou family, in semiconductor foundry, were just nouveau riche after all; their family background and wealth were at least half a galaxy away from the Doria family.

Moreover, Zhou Ruofei was just a “cheap brother” who watched Tan Xiao grow up, not his true elder.

What if members of the Doria family came in the future?

What if that elder sister Tan Xiao both respected and feared came?

What could Zhang Xingchuan do?

He could only vividly illustrate what it means to be desperately anxious but powerless.

Tan Xiao didn’t know his husband was going through a psychological dark moment.

With no nightlife the previous night, Dr. Tan got up very early and went for a run. He returned refreshed, showered, and changed. To meet his advisor, he tidied himself up well, choosing a basic white shirt and black trousers—simple and clean. Meeting a teacher required appearing decent and steady.

He loved and respected his advisor. His advisor was a true big shot, with a resume so brilliant it would make anyone in finance gape. His academic influence was immense, ranking among the top Chinese economic and financial scholars globally. He also had great personal charisma—kind, friendly, and his office was always open to students… except for the occasional time he didn’t reply to Tan Xiao’s messages.

The advisor was one of the major motivations that helped Tan Xiao get through the grueling Ph.D. program.

The advisor talked with Tan Xiao for nearly an hour. Finally, Tan Xiao bowed, thanked him sincerely, said goodbye, and left the office.

Half an hour later, Zhou Ruofei waited for Tan Xiao in his presidential suite.

“What happened at the meeting with your advisor?” Zhou Ruofei asked, “You’re not delaying graduation, are you?”

Tan Xiao said, “Don’t curse me. My advisor loves me very much and even pointed out a direction for my life!”

Since his studies were going well.

Zhou Ruofei switched to a cold and cruel state, saying, “So, what have you decided? I heard there are still places in China that can legally ’treat’ gay men. If you don’t break up soon, I’ll tie you up and send you for electroshock therapy.”

“…” Tan Xiao said, “Are you a devil? After cursing me, you start telling dark jokes.”

Zhou Ruofei said, “Then break up. I can’t accept my brother being a bottom.”

Tan Xiao said, “Who asked you to accept it? My boyfriend and I aren’t going to have sex in front of you.”

Zhou Ruofei fainted from anger.

Tan Xiao took a fork and ate two pieces of guava from the luxurious fruit platter on the table, then got up to make coffee with the capsule machine.

“Make one for me too,” Zhou Ruofei said, lying there half-dead. “My heart is truly broken. These past two days, I’ve been dreaming of the tragic sight of you being bullied by that old man.”

This is too much, Tan Xiao thought. He rarely had erotic dreams himself, but apparently, he was starring in someone else’s.

Standing at the capsule machine, he suddenly thought of a possibility and asked, “Brother? Are you… still a virgin?”

Zhou Ruofei didn’t answer. His “playing dead” expression said it all.

No wonder he lacked basic physiological knowledge. Aside from anything else, being a bottom is fantastic, okay?

Tan Xiao couldn’t share such things with him, so he brought the topic back to a serious path, saying, “My boyfriend loves me very much and has never bullied me. Don’t write some victim script for me; our script is super sweet.”

Zhou Ruofei began to roll his eyes.

Tan Xiao made two cups of coffee, placed them before both of them, and added, “He was actually a straight man. I took the initiative to be ambiguous and couldn’t help saying some very ‘gay’ things to him. He was scared to death but didn’t dare refuse me, for fear of hurting me. Later, I seduced him.”

Zhou Ruofei found it hard to believe his brother would seduce a man. Nonsense. He said, “How do you know he didn’t already know you were a Doria?”

“He just didn’t,” Tan Xiao said. “He thought I was a poor student. Worried I didn’t have enough money, he was always transferring money to me, buying me clothes, taking me out for good food. He almost bought me a Mercedes.”

Zhou Ruofei’s face was hard to describe. “Really or acting? He’s at that age—isn’t it embarrassing?”

Tan Xiao said, “When the truth came out, he was probably a bit embarrassed, but he has a very good temper, never gets angry, and won’t make others feel embarrassed. He’s truly a very gentle person, and he’s so handsome. Aren’t you a fan of good looks? Look at how handsome he is—how could he be a bad person?”

He showed Zhou Ruofei the photos he took of Zhang Xingchuan on his phone. They were from dinner last night; scrolling through, it was all Zhang Xingchuan sitting across the table, over a dozen shots from the same angle.

Am I crazy, taking so many identical ones? Tan Xiao thought. He really is handsome.

“I’m a fan of good looks? How come I didn’t know? Don’t slander me, I’m not that shallow, I tell you,” Zhou Ruofei shouted.

But he couldn’t help stealing a curious glance. The “poor guy” did look alright.

“Don’t we look good together?” Tan Xiao said with a smile. “Last night he even told me it was love at first sight.”

Zhou Ruofei said, “How can you believe any old nonsense?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Tan Xiao said. “We met at an alumni forum event. Alumni from all levels were witnesses: from ninety-year-old wise elders to fresh-faced freshmen. If anyone among us lied about what happened that day, they’d never have the face to return to their alma mater again.”

Zhou Ruofei was speechless. He wanted to ask what kind of twisted logic that was.

He was also a graduate of a prestigious university and had a strong sense of school honor. Tan Xiao’s ridiculous vow actually managed to convince him.

His silly brother and that poor CEO… were they really involved in “pure love”?

Zhang Xingchuan didn’t have much to do in the afternoon, so he processed tasks slowly one by one, not in any hurry. His mind was a bit on Tan Xiao, wondering how his talk with the advisor went and if he had managed to send Brother Xiao Zhou away.

Around 4:00 PM, Tan Xiao sent a message: “Baby, what are you doing?”

Zhang Xingchuan replied instantly: “Slacking off.”

Tan Xiao then called him.

Zhang Xingchuan picked up and asked, “How did it go today?”

“How did what go?” Tan Xiao said. “I’m downstairs and don’t want to go up. Is it convenient for you to come down? If not, send someone to get the coffee from me.”

A few minutes later, Zhang Xingchuan came out of the elevator. Turning a corner, he saw Tan Xiao in the lobby, smiling at him and holding coffee.

Zhang Xingchuan swiped his card and came out, asking, “Want to come up and hang out for a bit?”

“No, just a few words and I’m off. I have to go back to school.” Considering it was working hours, Tan Xiao didn’t want to be seen by colleagues who knew him. “I brought you coffee—it’s a very tasty special blend.”

Zhang Xingchuan went with him to the lobby seating area and tasted the coffee; it was indeed good.

Tan Xiao and Zhou Ruofei had both agreed that the capsule coffee in the room was terrible, so they went out to find a boutique coffee shop and ordered two proper drinks. A coffee shop was perfect for storytelling; he had told Zhou Ruofei an embellished version of his and Zhang Xingchuan’s “pure love” story.

Finally, he packed this cup for Zhang Xingchuan.

Zhang Xingchuan guessed he’d be coaxing him, but hadn’t expected it to be in this way. “So what kind of ‘oil’ and ‘vinegar’ did you add?”

Tan Xiao said, “Just added some dramatic conflict appropriately.”

For example, when Zhang Xingchuan mistakenly thought he was “confessing” and said he would think about it, his actual reaction was quite calm.

In Tan Xiao’s version, the CEO was so startled he fell off his chair and fled, then spent the night tossing and turning before deciding to accept this love that might not be blessed by society.

For another example, their first kiss in that beautiful stairwell in the bar—Tan Xiao was kissed into a daze by Zhang Xingchuan, breathless and blacking out, finally needing to be half-carried downstairs.

In Tan Xiao’s description, he and Zhang Xingchuan had red eyes and gripped waists, kissing back and forth, an even match, with sparks flying. Even when a waiter carrying drinks passed by, the glasses on the tray rippled from the vibration.

And then there was the “Lover’s Slope” incident. That Xiaohongshu post had zero impact until it was banned for too many reports; no one else could see it, and it hadn’t even reached two hundred likes.

Tan Xiao told Zhou Ruofei that Zhang Xingchuan saw that post on the hot search list, his heart shattered into eighteen pieces on the spot. He dropped a hundred-million-yuan order and rushed to the school, eyes bloodshot, grabbing Tan Xiao’s shoulders and shaking him: “How could you have someone else behind my back?”

Zhang Xingchuan: “…”

Zhang Xingchuan said, “Did you really only major in finance? Did you secretly minor in Dramatic Literature?”

Tan Xiao was overjoyed. Tsinghua’s Dramatic Literature doesn’t teach this… he just had some training in “short-form dramas.”

Zhou Ruofei had listened to an information-overloaded collection of short dramas—the pure love version—and went off to digest it in a daze.

To some extent, it did make him accept that Tan Xiao and Zhang Xingchuan might actually have some kind of “godforsaken” true love.

Zhang Xingchuan could never, in his life, bring himself to grab someone’s shoulders and shake them with bloodshot eyes; that felt like some kind of severe illness.

“Fine.” Zhang Xingchuan couldn’t exactly go to Zhou Ruofei and say “I didn’t, I’m not, I’m normal,” so he just accepted it. “Regardless, as long as it managed to discourage your Brother Xiao Zhou, it’s alright… Couldn’t you have made me sound a bit more ‘Mary Sue’?”

Tan Xiao said, “Isn’t this ‘Sue’ enough? It’s ‘Sue-ing’ someone’s legs off.”

Zhang Xingchuan began to suspect that the post-2000s generation had no idea what “Mary Sue” meant.

Tan Xiao said, “Zhou Ruofei wrote romance novels in university and even showed them to me. The main characters were obviously based on him and my sister. This approach works very well on him.”

Zhang Xingchuan asked in horror, “Does your sister know she’s being… being fantasized about like that by him?”

Tan Xiao quickly clarified, “It wasn’t that kind of novel. It was very elementary-school level: him pulling my sister’s hair tie, my sister throwing paper balls at him. Later he didn’t finish it and dropped it. Thinking back now, maybe it’s because he didn’t even know what else couples can do.”

Zhang Xingchuan felt a bit of sympathy for Brother Xiao Zhou now.

“And your advisor?” Zhang Xingchuan asked again, “What did you two talk about?”

Tan Xiao’s expression became serious, and he gazed at Zhang Xingchuan.

Zhang Xingchuan gradually felt uneasy. “What is it?”

Tan Xiao said, “My advisor suggested that I shouldn’t always stay in one place. It’s not good for me, and I won’t make progress in my knowledge.”

Zhang Xingchuan: “…Mhm.”

“He suggested I move to another place,” Tan Xiao said, “only then can I try new things and have better opportunities for breakthroughs.”

Zhang Xingchuan didn’t know what to say.

Perhaps he suggested Tan Xiao go abroad. But Zhang Xingchuan had been paying close attention to this advisor lately. If he suggested a change of city, he was more likely to recommend the south, with Shanghai being the most probable. Zhang Xingchuan also knew this well: there were more opportunities for a Ph.D. in finance to flex their muscles in Shanghai, and it was better suited for Tan Xiao’s lively and unconstrained personality than Beijing.

A short separation isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Tan Xiao is only twenty-four and deserves a richer variety of experiences and life.

Zhang Xingchuan thought optimistically: Tan Xiao dislikes working so much, even if he went to work in finance or securities, he probably wouldn’t stay long. Once he’s experienced it enough, he’ll come back.

“I’ve decided to accept his suggestion. It was already at the top of my list of options,” Tan Xiao said. “You’ll support me, right?”

Zhang Xingchuan loved providing small suggestions for life planning to young talents he appreciated.

He had also done this to Tan Xiao—to the Tan Xiao who claimed he wanted to be a “salted fish”—wishing he could shake him by the collar to make him get his act together.

Regardless of the relationship, his hope from beginning to end was for Tan Xiao to have a better life.

Zhang Xingchuan said with a smile, “I will. Whatever you want to do, do it. I support all your decisions.”

Tan Xiao also smiled and said, “Good. I… I’m planning to apply for a post-doc project next door.”

Zhang Xingchuan was only halfway through his sorrow when he froze.

“A different place” meant moving from Tsinghua to the university next door.

Zhang Xingchuan took a deep breath. It was obvious: Tan Xiao was deliberately teasing him.

The successful Tan Xiao burst into laughter, nearly falling over with his chair.

A moment later, the lobby receptionist saw the CEO grabbing Tan Xiao and dragging him toward the elevator in a rage, heading for the underground garage.

The receptionist, who had only been at Wen Cheng for two months and didn’t know Tan Xiao, whispered in the gossip group: “Oi! The CEO actually can get angry!”

And then: “Also, why did he apprehend a handsome young guy in broad daylight?”

Three seconds later, the group was filled with a uniform chant: “Concubine Xiao returns to the palace—!”