At the same time, Sun Xi also received a WeChat system notification, informing him that because he hadn’t claimed it within 24 hours, that oddly specific transfer amount had been automatically returned to the account of a contact named “Jiu.”
“Jiu” was her self-set WeChat nickname. Sun Xi had never added any note for it.
He didn’t pay much attention to that notification either, holding his phone in one hand, pressing the power button with his index finger to turn off the screen. He was about to walk out of the private room to greet the client he had arranged to meet, but suddenly, his phone flashed again.
Facial recognition automatically unlocked it, and he effortlessly saw that new WeChat message at a glance—from the same person, just a brief sentence, utterly unremarkable. Yet he stood there in a daze, spending some time reading it word by word repeatedly, then his pitch-black eyes moved horizontally to the side, landing on her profile picture.
It was that kind of standardized professional portrait worn by bank employees—a low-saturation blue background with standard attire and hairstyle. Perhaps the only difference was her smile.
It wasn’t that kind of perfunctory professional smile, but an extremely infectious brilliant smile. The corners of her mouth curved upward, carving two smooth arcs. Two dimples nestled at the corners of her mouth, shallow and faint, corresponding harmoniously with her curved eyes and eyebrows, extremely approachable.
And extremely glaring.
A short knock suddenly came from outside the door. Without waiting for Sun Xi’s response, a young male server pushed the door open and peeked in, saying to him: “Brother, the client you arranged to meet has arrived downstairs.”
“Okay.” Sun Xi turned off his phone and strode out with long legs.
He walked out of that hidden private room in the northwest corner, bypassed a huge Chinese-style screen, went down the solid wood staircase, and came to the first floor of the teahouse. Before reaching the entrance, he saw KTV owner Wang Heyuan entering with a tall, thin girl in a fluffy fur coat.
Sun Xi quickened his pace to greet them: “Boss Wang.”
Wang Heyuan’s somewhat protruding eyes widened vertically, his well-maintained thin face breaking into a smile, deliberately chiding Sun Xi: “Look at you, I told you to call me uncle from now on.”
“Uncle Wang.”
Sun Xi sensibly changed his address, but without much warmth—just faintly pursing his lips. His gaze swept hurriedly across the face of that girl wearing mink with high boots, then scanned backward, asking: “Didn’t Little Boss Fu come with you?”
“Oh, him? He said he’d come later.”
Wang Heyuan smiled ingratiatingly at that girl, but she rolled her eyes at him. Old Wang didn’t mind at all and continued to answer Sun Xi perfunctorily: “He told us to come first.”
“Then let’s go upstairs and sit.” Sun Xi said knowingly.
This Chinese-style teahouse located in Shicheng’s development zone was quite mysterious locally. Its environment and atmosphere were completely at odds with the Northeast, and the prices were oddly high. Usually cold and deserted without many customers, it had nevertheless operated for nearly ten years and remained standing. Some said the owner had deep connections, and the regular customers were all big shots who had recharged enormous membership fees. People who came here weren’t simply drinking tea, eating meals, or chatting about family matters—they all harbored secrets that couldn’t be spoken in budget restaurants and came to make deals with each other.
The reason Sun Xi chose to meet Wang Heyuan here was because after three consecutive all-nighters of thoroughly attentive service and networking, Wang Heyuan agreed to arrange a meeting with his nephew Little Boss Fu to mediate the matter of Sun Xi’s uncle’s project compensation.
But less than half an hour after entering the private room, Sun Xi felt something wasn’t quite right.
During that half hour, Wang Heyuan just nestled in the sofa cracking melon seeds while playing on his phone with that girl in mink. The girl clearly didn’t want to deal with him, but he shamelessly leaned over asking this and that, flirting and bantering as if no one else was present, provoking the girl to loudly scold him as shameless. Old Wang laughed and said what use was that thing anyway.
Sun Xi endured until this point, then suddenly interrupted them: “Can Little Boss Fu still come?”
Sun Xi’s speaking voice wasn’t particularly loud—one could say it was relatively low for a northern man—but because of his somewhat cold and hard tone and his animal-like bright and determined gaze, even if he casually spoke up amid noise, he was hard to ignore.
Wang Heyuan straightened up from the sofa, feeling somewhat displeased inside. This greenhorn kid was outwardly polite, but his eyes clearly showed impatience. If not for the fact that besides being willing to spend money he had also risked his life drinking with him properly, he wouldn’t have taken on this idle affair.
“I’ll make a call and ask.” He hurriedly said.
The call lasted only a few seconds, filled with noncommittal responses before quickly hanging up. Then with an apologetic smile: “I don’t know what’s going on with this nephew of mine lately, always busy outside, even my sister can’t catch him. Probably just took over the family business from his dad and is busy adapting.”
Sun Xi couldn’t be bothered to listen to a single word. He knew he’d been played: “This isn’t good, uncle.”
“What’s wrong?” Wang Heyuan also became somewhat serious.
Sun Xi propped his elbows on his legs, bending slightly at the waist, sweater sleeves bunched at his elbows, his tightly lined forearms hanging down naturally and loosely. Across a huge glass tea table, he looked at the middle-aged man more than ten years his senior, his whole person emanating a dark, oppressive hostility.
Wang Heyuan wasn’t someone who hadn’t seen the world. Seeing this posture, he thought the kid was going to cause trouble, but suddenly his gaze withdrew and his tone also lightened.
“Fine, if Little Boss Fu won’t budge even one step, then we won’t pay a single cent of compensation either.” Sun Xi said.
“Not paying?” Wang Heyuan sized him up, unable to tell if he was serious or bluffing. “You’re joking, right?”
“If we can’t afford to pay, of course we won’t pay.”
“He’s asking for two hundred thousand.” Old Wang leaned forward, also lowering his voice. “Didn’t I promise you? I can at least help negotiate a bit.”
“No matter how much you negotiate, we can’t come up with it anyway.” Sun Xi simply leaned back on the sofa, squinting at the opposite side. “My uncle’s house, cargo truck, savings, all his valuable possessions added together don’t reach 500,000. The family still has elderly and children—how are they supposed to live?”
Wang Heyuan looked at him shrewdly: “But there’s still you, isn’t there? A nephew helping his uncle is only natural.”
“The money I brought back, besides compensating the collapsed merchant, you clearly know where the rest went, uncle.” Sun Xi stared at him, calmly stating, “I have no money.”
Wang Heyuan rolled his eyes calculating, then smiled apologetically: “Now you’re being modest. You’ve been mixing it up in Beijing for so many years, you must have saved up quite a bit?”
“Haven’t saved anything, I’m a paycheck-to-paycheck Beijing drifter.”
“That car of yours, didn’t it cost at least several tens of thousands?”
“The car still has loan payments.”
“What you’re wearing inside and out are all good brands. I can recognize Prada, can’t I? I can tell real from fake, can’t I?”
“Young people are all vain—otherwise how would I be living paycheck to paycheck?” Saying this, Sun Xi glanced roguishly at that girl in mink. The girl glared at him.
“I don’t believe it, you’re just messing with me.” Old Wang laughed.
“Really, to be honest with you, my recent living expenses are all borrowed.” Sun Xi pulled at the corner of his mouth in a smile, speaking as naturally as if telling a joke, “Borrowed from a woman, too.”
He even added another sentence: “Want to see the transfer records?”
Before Wang Heyuan could respond, the girl in mink suddenly raised her voice and cursed: “What a fucking piece of trash, borrowing money from women!”
Sun Xi looked at her indifferently, not angry, seemingly not caring at all.
That girl’s temper was provoked, and she confronted Sun Xi again: “Why the hell would she lend you money?”
“Don’t know.” Sun Xi laughed lightly, adding another bastard remark with a self-deprecating air, “Maybe she loves me, or maybe she owes me.”
That girl couldn’t take it anymore. She threw a crude curse at Sun Xi, got up, grabbed her bag and left. Old Wang tried to stop her, but she cursed him out too.
Wang Heyuan suddenly felt a wave of annoyance—not just because the girl he’d only recently met and hadn’t yet managed to bed had run off, but more because he realized he’d underestimated Sun Xi.
Before, he’d just thought he was more mature than his peers—quiet, perceptive, thorough and proper in handling matters. Although he looked somewhat intimidating and not to be trifled with, handsome guys like him having some personality was normal. Overall, he seemed like a decent person returning from the big city. How did he suddenly transform and reveal this bastard face?
Borrowing money from women wasn’t particularly rare, but there were few men who could say it so openly. He’d seen plenty of spineless losers living off women, but those who ate soft rice hard and took it for granted were either pure bastard scumbags or ruthless people with extremely strong psychological fortitude. If he’d known about this character from the start, Old Wang wouldn’t have worried, but for him to deliberately change face on this occasion today made him have to be cautious.
Wang Heyuan didn’t interact much with Little Boss Fu, but he could guess what his nephew was calculating. Although he didn’t know the specific reasons, it was nothing more than wanting to squeeze more money out of the Sun family.
That construction project was from a year ago. It was just partial renovation at the time, and Sun Xi’s uncle did indeed cut corners and substitute inferior materials, which caused the ceiling of the first-floor café in the mall to collapse, subsequently causing a short circuit in the building’s electrical system. But frankly speaking, the direct loss was at most 200,000. Yet Little Boss Fu was using this as an excuse to cooperate with fire safety to completely renovate the entire mall’s electrical system, demanding that the Sun family also pay for indirect losses. How much to pay had no standard—he could say whatever he wanted. It was clearly extortion.
Originally, he didn’t want to get involved in this matter—the Sun family had no money to squeeze anyway—but hearing that their nephew who’d been mixing it up in Beijing had returned, Wang Heyuan’s mind stirred, wondering if he could profit somewhat from the middle. But he didn’t expect to run into such a troublemaker. He suddenly felt that his nephew’s calculations were also mistaken—better quit while ahead.
Sun Xi just quietly watched the middle-aged man opposite him struggling and complaining internally. Waiting expressionlessly for a while, as if completely judging what he was thinking, when Wang Heyuan had made up his mind, Sun Xi suddenly stood up, grabbed his down jacket to leave.
“Fine, since it’s like this, I won’t handle this matter anymore. I’m going back to Beijing to work.”
“Wait!” Old Wang hurriedly called out to him. “I’ll make another call.”
This time he made the call outside. It lasted a full ten-plus minutes. When he returned, he said with a smile that Little Boss Fu was held up at a gathering and would come over as soon as it ended—he swore to heaven he would definitely come. But this teahouse was about to close, so why not move to Leshenghuang and open a private room there to wait.
Sun Xi was still too lazy to believe a single word, but his purpose had been achieved. Looking at Old Wang, he said: “But uncle, I can’t afford to spend at your place.”
“It’s fine, tonight’s on me.”
Leshenghuang was Wang Heyuan’s KTV, considered one of Shicheng’s larger entertainment venues. Inside, there weren’t any of those shady services—money was mainly made from alcohol. The money Sun Xi had spent on drinks these past few days wasn’t wasted—he’d figured out Old Wang’s business tactics. Not only were the drink prices ridiculously high, most of them were also fake, especially the imported liquor which was even more questionable.
But even with such worthless fake alcohol, Wang Heyuan was reluctant to bring it out to treat guests. He only opened a small private room, sent two bags of beer, said he’d call two male servers to accompany Sun Xi in singing and chatting, then found an excuse to go out for barbecue himself, telling him to drink and play while waiting for Little Boss Fu to come.
Sun Xi just nodded, lying in the corner of the private room, not touching a drop of alcohol, his head pillowed on one arm, staring blankly at the colorful light sphere overhead.
The colored lights had five colors in total, staggered across the surface of the spherical lamp. If one were to be particular about counting, Sun Xi actually did count—gold and red were more numerous. The light sphere rotated regularly with the music, the multicolored spotlights rising and falling in competition, flashing strong light, casting into the corners of the private room, also directly into Sun Xi’s eyes.
Clearly it was tacky colored light without any aesthetic sense, yet he stared at it intently all night.
That night, three groups of people came in, interrupting him three times.
The first group was two idle servers who, seeing Sun Xi bored, sang songs beside him to relieve his boredom. Then not long after, Ge Fan also came.
Ge Fan heard Sun Xi had come to the shop, brought that designer down jacket to return to him, and by the way showed off to colleagues in the room that his latest video had set a new traffic record within a few hours—quite successful. So much so that he’d already changed his signature on various social platforms to “Just Like Eating Dipping Sauce Vegetables.” As he spoke, Ge Fan even pulled up that short video and pushed it in front of Sun Xi’s eyes, forcing him to watch.
The short video of about a minute, Sun Xi watched four times over and over before nodding and returning the phone to him.
“Filmed pretty well, right?” Ge Fan showed off.
“Pretty good.”
“Our Xiao Jiu was behind the camera.”
“Mm.” Sun Xi thought for a moment and said, “I saw.”
Ge Fan still had work to handle outside. After saying a few words, he left. After he left, Sun Xi lay back down looking at the light sphere. Not knowing how long passed, he seemed to have dozed off with squinted eyes when the last group of people finally came in.
It wasn’t Little Boss Fu—it was the lawyer Little Boss Fu had hired overnight.
The lawyer looked young, probably in his early thirties, sporting heavy dark circles and wearing a suit as he walked in. He turned off the music and colored lights, sat down solemnly, took several photocopied documents from his briefcase and laid them out one by one in front of Sun Xi, explaining one by one that some of these materials were the construction contract Sun Xi’s uncle signed with Fu’an Mall, and some were purchase receipts between Sun Xi’s uncle and several downstream suppliers. Added together, they were evidence of his substituting inferior materials in the project, causing major losses to the mall.
Sun Xi raised his eyes, frowning at that lawyer.
The lawyer rigorously summarized, saying that now his client wanted to sue for contract fraud and was already going through the process. He had come specifically to give notice.
Sun Xi’s faintly glowing eyes stared at him. That lawyer suddenly felt a bit uneasy, gathered his things preparing to leave, then remembered there was one last thing.
“By the way, my client has another message for me to relay to you.”
Sun Xi looked at him indifferently.
“He said he doesn’t want your money anymore. He wants you all to go to prison too, to let your Sun family reunite in a jail cell.”
Sun Xi said nothing, just smiled faintly.
After the lawyer left, Sun Xi rolled up those photocopies and gripped them in his hand, walked out of the private room, went down the stairs floor by floor from the fourth floor, walked directly out of Leshenghuang’s side door. As soon as he came out, a blast of cold wind hit him head-on and woke him up. Only then did he notice the sky had already brightened. He checked the time—almost seven o’clock.
He stood in the alley by the side door, not in a hurry to leave. He lit a cigarette to relieve the fatigue of the night, then turned to look toward the other side at the spacious golden main entrance spread with red carpet. He saw two tourists who had spent the night at the bathhouse coming out early, each person holding a gift bag with gold lettering reading “Wendu Water Resort.”
Leshenghuang was right above Wendu Water Resort—a total of five floors in a square commercial building. KTV occupied the top two floors, while the bottom three floors were Wendu Water Resort. Each had its own main entrance, both open all night, but they didn’t disturb each other, jointly supporting the most prosperous entertainment street in Shicheng’s city center.
Sun Xi lowered his head and took a drag of his cigarette. When he raised his head again, suddenly a beam of morning light shone directly over from between the buildings. The brilliant golden-red spread to the bottom of his eyes, sprinkling on his face with a warmth that provoked an itch. But Sun Xi suddenly dodged away, standing in the shadows of the wall corner. Only when the cold desolation and darkness returned before his eyes did he adapt somewhat.
Quite funny—for some reason, he often felt that beautiful things were particularly glaring.
He could endure the direct glare of exaggerated tacky colored lights, yet couldn’t bear even half a moment of the warm and brilliant winter morning sun.
When he raised his eyes again, he saw the morning sun had already dispersed, spreading evenly across the city. Then in the bright light, he saw a slender figure walking toward the entrance of Wendu Water Resort—hair piled high on top of her head in a messy bun, a white long scarf covering half her face, yet one could still discern her high nose bridge and bright eyes. Her steps were light as she pushed open the door to Wendu Water Resort and went in.
Today was the weekend, a rest day. She was probably coming to the bathhouse to help out.
Sun Xi rubbed his eyes, one hand holding the cigarette, the other hand taking out his phone. He looked at that message she’d sent after the transfer was returned yesterday evening—just one sentence.
Jiu: **[I just heard about your uncle’s situation. Do you have time for us to talk?]**
Sun Xi stared at it for a long time again, without replying.