After Qiao Le said, “I don’t have any money,” the room fell into an eerie silence.
Qiao Le had left in a hurry the night before, leaving his bag at the bar.
Fortunately, he hadn’t brought any money with him, or else the situation would have been even more awkward-like settling a bill after the fact.
Shen Hechuan’s silence made Qiao Le realize he had misspoken.
He wanted to explain, but before he could, Shen Hechuan said, “What would you do if you had money? Split the room cost with me? Like the pizza last time?”
Qiao Le: “…That’s not what I meant.”
“Neither did I,” Shen Hechuan paused, then continued, “What happened yesterday was an accident. Neither of us expected things to turn out this way, but regardless, you don’t need to apologize. I didn’t lose out in this situation.”
On the contrary, it was Qiao Le who had lost out.
Because last night, Qiao Le wasn’t entirely sober, but Shen Hechuan was.
If he had wanted to, he could have refused Qiao Le or even restrained him, but he didn’t.
In the bathroom, Qiao Le, drenched by the shower, looked helpless and fragile.
His fitted shirt outlined his slender yet flexible waist, exuding an unintentional allure.
Shen Hechuan, controlled by his senses, didn’t push Qiao Le away.
The shower soaked both their clothes and washed away his rationality.
In that light, he wasn’t much different from those who had slipped Qiao Le their room keys.
Ultimately, he was the one who had gained the upper hand in this situation.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” he asked Qiao Le.
“You’re the one who lost out.”
Qiao Le understood his meaning but didn’t agree with his words: “I didn’t lose out either. It’s not like I can get pregnant.”
Shen Hechuan: “…”
He’s quite open-minded.
Qiao Le thought for a moment and said, “Or maybe we can think of it this way: I lost control first, and you lost control after. That makes us even, doesn’t it?”
Shen Hechuan: “…”
That does make sense.
Qiao Le couldn’t quite gauge what Shen Hechuan was thinking, so he assured him, “Mr. Shen, don’t worry. I won’t talk about this. We’re both adults. Once I walk out that door, I’ll forget all about it.”
“Shen Hechuan.”
Qiao Le: “Huh?”
Shen Hechuan said, “No need to keep calling me ‘Mr. Shen.’ Just call me Shen Hechuan.”
As the saying goes, familiarity breeds comfort.
Given that they had already been intimate, Qiao Le didn’t hesitate and called out, “Shen Hechuan,” then added, “If there’s nothing else, I’ll head out now?”
Shen Hechuan asked, “How do you plan to handle this? Do you remember who it was?”
He was referring to the person who had drugged Qiao Le.
“Yes,” Qiao Le nodded.
He remembered when he had started feeling off last night and which table he had been drinking at beforehand, but he would need to check the surveillance footage for more details.
Shen Hechuan: “Do you need my help?”
Qiao Le wasn’t surprised by the offer.
To him, Shen Hechuan was just a kind-hearted person.
However, Qiao Le said, “Not for now. I can handle it myself. If I need help, I’ll reach out to you.”
“How will you reach out?” Shen Hechuan asked.
“Huh?”
Shen Hechuan picked up his phone, opened WeChat, and pulled up his friend QR code: “Add me.”
The last time Shen Hechuan had shown his QR code was to transfer money.
Right, they weren’t WeChat friends yet.
Qiao Le suddenly realized something and patted his pockets, only to find his phone missing.
Then he remembered he was wearing Shen Hechuan’s clothes.
He recalled bringing his phone yesterday.
After the incident, he had called Fang Jiaxu for help, but the call went unanswered.
Later, he encountered Shen Hechuan.
“My phone… seems to be lost,” Qiao Le said uncertainly.
“I remember taking it when I left. My clothes-“
“There was nothing in your clothes,” Shen Hechuan interjected.
He had undressed Qiao Le and knew this well.
“It might have fallen in my car. Let’s go check…”
He paused mid-sentence, his gaze lingering on Qiao Le.
“Do you need to rest a bit more?”
“Do you need to rest a bit more?”—referring to his physical condition.
Qiao Le immediately replied, “No need! I’m not that tired!”
Shen Hechuan: “…”
The way he said it almost sounded like he was implying Shen Hechuan wasn’t that impressive.
Qiao Le pointed toward the bathroom.
“What about my clothes?”
Shen Hechuan said, “Someone will take care of them. They’ll be sent back to you later.”
That settled it.
As the two walked out, Shen Hechuan opened the door and asked if Qiao Le wanted to have breakfast at the restaurant downstairs.
Qiao Le, preoccupied with his missing phone, said he wasn’t hungry.
Shen Hechuan didn’t press further.
He closed the room door and, as he looked up, came face to face with someone emerging from the opposite room.
The person exclaimed in surprise, “Shen Hechuan?”
Qiao Le turned toward the voice, and their eyes met.
Both were momentarily stunned.
Qiao Le recognized her she was the woman Shen Hechuan had met for a blind date at the West Coffee House last time.
Neither of them had expected to run into each other in such a situation.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Finally, Shen Hechuan nodded at her and said politely, “Hello, Miss Cheng.”
Cheng Jiarong’s gaze shifted between him and Qiao Le, first lingering on the oversized shirt Qiao Le was wearing, then stopping at the red mark on Shen Hechuan’s neck.
The events at the coffee shop were still fresh in her mind.
Cheng Jiarong looked at them meaningfully.
“It seems your relationship hasn’t been affected by me. That’s a relief.”
Qiao Le knew she had misunderstood and wanted to explain.
“We—”
“I know,” Cheng Jiarong interrupted.
“You’re totally in love.”
Qiao Le: “…”
This was what it felt like to have a boomerang come back and hit you.
“How old are you?” Cheng Jiarong suddenly asked Qiao Le.
Qiao Le: “Nineteen.”
“Nineteen?” Cheng Jiarong clicked her tongue and looked at Shen Hechuan.
“Aunt Lan called me last time and said you didn’t want to hold me back because I’m young. I didn’t expect your boyfriend to be even younger than me. Who would’ve guessed?”
Shen Hechuan: “…”
The “young age” excuse was something he had used to placate his family.
He hadn’t thought to explain it to anyone, but hearing it from Cheng Jiarong, the “young” party involved, made it sound like there was more to it.
However, he didn’t dwell on it too much.
Instead, he focused on Qiao Le’s age.
Qiao Le was only nineteen, not even twenty, making him thirteen years younger than Shen Hechuan.
“Miss Cheng, this is my private matter,” Shen Hechuan said.
Cheng Jiarong shrugged.
“I wasn’t trying to interfere.”
She just remembered how Wu Huilan had specifically called her after the last incident to explain that what happened at the coffee shop was a misunderstanding and that Shen Hechuan wasn’t in a relationship.
Now, she had just caught Shen Hechuan coming out of a hotel room with Qiao Le.
They were wearing each other’s clothes, and there were hickeys-it was obvious they had spent the night together.
Shen Hechuan, that guy, even lied to his parents.
He really has no conscience.
Cheng Jiarong rolled her eyes: “An old cow eating tender grass and still not admitting it. I’m speechless.”
Qiao Le originally wanted to explain that he wasn’t Shen Hechuan’s boyfriend, but hearing her criticize Shen Hechuan made him a bit unhappy.
He reached out and grabbed Shen Hechuan’s arm: “It’s not that absolute. What if it’s the tender grass eating the old cow?”
Shen Hechuan: “…”
Cheng Jiarong: “…”
Shen Hechuan wanted to say that he wasn’t actually that old, but being defended felt pretty good, so he decided not to say anything.
“Ailsa.”
At that moment, another girl came out of the room where Cheng Jiarong was.
She was dragging a suitcase and asked Cheng Jiarong if she had run into someone she knew.
“Just a friend,” Cheng Jiarong smiled at her.
“Let’s go, I’ll take you to catch your flight.”
Before leaving, she said to Qiao Le: “You should be more careful. He doesn’t even want to make your relationship public. How good can his conscience be?”
After Cheng Jiarong left, Qiao Le let go of Shen Hechuan’s hand: “I acted on impulse just now. Don’t take it to heart.”
Shen Hechuan glanced at the arm he had grabbed: “What you said wasn’t wrong.”
“What?”
“Nothing, let’s go.” Shen Hechuan led the way toward the elevator, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
By the time Qiao Le realized what he meant, the heat that had just subsided in the room rushed back to his face.
Whether it was the old cow eating the tender grass or the tender grass eating the old cow, the point was they had eaten.
Qiao Le’s phone had indeed fallen in Shen Hechuan’s car.
There were two missed calls from Fang Jiaxu and a few unread WeChat messages.
[Fang Jiaxu: I was driving earlier. Why didn’t you answer? Still busy?]
[Fang Jiaxu: Xiao Man is being good. Don’t worry.]
[Fang Jiaxu: We just got home. The little one is so tired he can’t keep his eyes open.]
[Fang Jiaxu: [Photo][Photo]]
The last two were photos of Xiao Man sleeping.
Qiao Le saved them and replied to Fang Jiaxu, saying he’d come over to see him.
The bar owner was a friend of Fang Jiaxu’s, and some things were easier for Fang Jiaxu to handle than for him.
When Shen Hechuan heard he was going back, he opened the car door: “Where to? I’ll take you.”
Qiao Le wasn’t injured, but he was genuinely exhausted.
He didn’t stand on ceremony with Shen Hechuan and gave him Fang Jiaxu’s address.
Shen Hechuan adjusted the seat for him, making sure he was comfortable.
Halfway there, Shen Hechuan pulled over and went into a pharmacy by the roadside.
He didn’t say what he was buying, and Qiao Le didn’t ask, quietly waiting in the car for him to return.
When Shen Hechuan came back, he handed Qiao Le a bag containing two tubes of ointment.
“For inflammation and swelling.”
“…” Qiao Le held the bag, feeling like it was burning his hands.
The heat on his face kept coming and going.
Shen Hechuan: “There are instructions on them.”
“…Okay.”
I can read them myself.
Stop talking.
Qiao Le squeezed the tubes, wondering what Shen Hechuan had said when he bought them.
He glanced at Shen Hechuan out of the corner of his eye.
The other man was focused on the road, driving without a care in the world.
Qiao Le quietly reached over and adjusted the air vent toward himself.
When they arrived at Fang Jiaxu’s neighborhood, Qiao Le had Shen Hechuan pull over by the roadside.
He got out of the car and walked around to the driver’s side, where Shen Hechuan rolled down the window.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Qiao Le said to him.
“You’re welcome,” Shen Hechuan replied.
“Remember to call me if you need anything.”
“Okay.”
As the two were talking, neither of them noticed Fang Jiaxu and Qiao Man at the nearby breakfast shop.
Since it was Saturday and there was no school, Fang Jiaxu had brought Qiao Man out for breakfast.
He spotted Qiao Le standing by the roadside and patted Qiao Man: “Xiao Man, your brother is back.”
“Brother?!” Qiao Man’s eyes lit up.
“Where?”
Fang Jiaxu pointed at Qiao Le, just in time to see Shen Hechuan get out of the car and grab Qiao Le, who was about to leave.
He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he saw Qiao Le wave his hand.
Another suitor?
Fang Jiaxu said to Qiao Man, “Sweetie, it seems your brother has run into trouble again.”
“Trouble?”
Qiao Man tilted his head, and a light bulb seemed to go off in his mind: “I got it!”
He dashed toward Qiao Le and Shen Hechuan like a whirlwind, puffing out his chest and calling out to Qiao Le in a bold voice: “Dad!”
Shen Hechuan: “?”
Qiao Le: “…”
Sweetie, you don’t need to call him Dad.