Qian Xiaoke, of course, knew the meat of these poultry wasn’t as tasty as his own, but: Chairman Jiang, you’re really bold—wanting to eat human meat!
Jiang Tongyan wasn’t sure if he was serious or joking, but it cracked him up.
A few back-and-forth WeChat messages in the morning were enough to boost Jiang Tongyan’s mood so much that he ate an extra egg. Qian Xiaoke really had some magic.
Jiang Tongyan gave Qian Xiaoke a tip: Since you eat so much, pick the heaviest one.
So, bored out of his mind, Qian Xiaoke actually grabbed a scale and started weighing them one by one. But the poultry wouldn’t stay still, running all over, and he hadn’t marked them. Soon, he couldn’t tell which he had weighed and which he hadn’t.
Qian Xiaoke’s mom came out and asked, “What are you doing?”
“I’m checking which one’s fattest—I want to eat the fattest.”
“You’re the fattest,” his mom said. “Eat yourself.”
Qian Xiaoke pouted. “How’re you just like Jiang Tongyan?”
“Who’s that? Your partner?”
“No,” Qian Xiaoke said. “A clueless rich person—not my partner.”
His mom glared at him. “Yeah, I figured—no hope of you finding someone.”
Faced with his mom’s distrust, Qian Xiaoke thought she was right. He figured he wasn’t exactly boyfriend material either.
So sad.
No looks, no skills.
Who’d fall for him?
Qian Xiaoke grabbed a chicken at random. “Tonight, it’s you!”
But his mom slapped his hand and snatched it back.
She said, “I’m keeping this hen to lay eggs. Your dad cooked instant noodles inside—go eat that!”
So wronged.
Qian Xiaoke couldn’t find a boyfriend, and now couldn’t even eat chicken.
He messaged Jiang Tongyan to complain. Jiang Tongyan, sipping coffee, laughed so hard he nearly broke the window.
Feeling the vibe was right, Jiang Tongyan asked a question he’d been dying to: Qian Xiaoke, what kind of person do you like?
Qian Xiaoke was glumly heading inside to eat his noodles. At least his dad had made him chicken-mushroom flavor, so he got a whiff of chicken.
Slurping noodles, he checked Jiang Tongyan’s message and replied without thinking: Didn’t I tell you before? A sunny, handsome younger top who would join me at a street stall after work without complaining!
Jiang Tongyan sent a machete emoji.
Qian Xiaoke laughed and saved it.
Seeing no further reply, Jiang Tongyan felt a bit down. This kid gave him no face. He couldn’t figure out whether his brain was too dense to get it or playing dumb on purpose.
His good mood was gone. Jiang Tongyan finished breakfast, tidied up, and was about to head out when Shen Huiming called as he got into his car.
“Rare,” Jiang Tongyan said. “I thought you’d forgotten me.”
“I really don’t think of you at ordinary times,” Shen Huiming chuckled. “But I have something to tell you today.”
Jiang Tongyan assumed it was work-related. “I’m going back to China at the end of the year.”
“I’m with Suo Yang now.”
Suo Yang?
Who’s Suo Yang?
It took Jiang Tongyan a solid minute to recall—that was the blind date Zhou Mo set him up with! The perfect ideal type of flight attendant tailored for him!
“For real?” Damn it, snatched again?
That was his first thought.
But he quickly realised this time it wasn’t Shen Huiming’s fault—he had never taken it seriously himself.
Weird thing was, that Suo Yang guy ticked every box for Jiang Tongyan’s dream partner—handsome, classy, with that cool and sexy edge.
Logically, he should’ve clung to him like glue, shamelessly if need be.
But Qian Xiaoke had scrambled his brain, and he forgot about it.
His taste had gone full fantasy mode.
“For real,” Shen Huiming said. “I’m off lately—we’re hitting New York in a couple of days. Free? Let’s grab dinner.”
“Sure,” Jiang Tongyan agreed readily. “I wanna hear how you snagged him.”
After setting plans with Shen Huiming, Jiang Tongyan found an excuse to message Qian Xiaoke.
He sent: Shocked! Shen Huiming’s with my blind date!
Qian Xiaoke was sipping soup from his noodle bowl when he got it—he loved this chicken-mushroom flavor.
Content and happy, he wiped his mouth and let out a satisfied burp.
Picking up his phone, he replied to Jiang Tongyan: My condolences.
Jiang Tongyan nearly died of frustration—Qian Xiaoke’s brain was hopeless!
He decided to ignore Qian Xiaoke for a while and let Qian Xiaoke reflect on himself.
But Qian Xiaoke didn’t catch Jiang Tongyan’s noble intent—he went outside to chase chickens instead.
So childish.
Childish enough to make his mom roll her eyes.
When Qian Xiaoke got tired and returned inside, he showered, flopped lazily on the sofa, and grabbed his phone to play a match-three game. Only then did he see Jiang Tongyan’s later message.
Jiang Tongyan said: They got together so suddenly—how’s it so sudden?
Qian Xiaoke really wanted to say he didn’t want to talk, but he knew if he did, Jiang Tongyan’s petty temper would flare up again.
So he replied perfunctorily: They clicked and jumped in with passion, I guess. Condolences.
Condolences again!
Jiang Tongyan thought: Yeah, condolences for me—how’d I fall for you?
But he only griped inwardly, his eyes lingering on ‘passion’.
He suddenly wanted to ask what he and Qian Xiaoke were. Was it passion too?
If it were passion, it would be the kind that was excited halfway and then died down.
This morning, Qian Xiaoke had him all mixed up again.
Qian Xiaoke put down his phone and lay on the sofa, rubbed his full and round belly and pondered life a bit. He felt bad for Jiang Tongyan—his blind date snatched away.
A few minutes later, Qian Xiaoke sent Jiang Tongyan another message to cheer him up: Chairman Jiang, look on the bright side—there’s plenty of fish in the sea. You’ll find your flower someday!
Jiang Tongyan: Thanks, not comforted.
========
While Jiang Tongyan wrestled with his clueless little dummy here, over there he had to face a lovey-dovey new couple flaunting their happiness.
When he met Shen Huiming and Suo Yang, he was oozing sourness.
Suo Yang was still handsome—damn handsome. Next to him, Qian Xiaoke was just a fluffy bunny. But if Jiang Tongyan had to choose now, he would grab those bunny ears and drag him home.
He liked him—no helping it.
Even if the guy didn’t match his ideal partner checklist anywhere, he still liked him.
Chatting with Shen Huiming and Suo Yang over dinner, Qian Xiaoke came up—along with how to tell ‘passion’ from ‘love’.
Jiang Tongyan figured maybe it was just the novelty—he had never met a Qian Xiaoke before, so it was passion. But on second thought, passion my ass—what passion did he and Qian Xiaoke even have?
He just liked him.
Jiang Tongyan was hooked by Qian Xiaoke, and he felt so wronged.
After meeting Shen Huiming and the others, Jiang Tongyan felt off. He felt like he had been slapped with their PDA and was borderline depressed.
He called Qian Xiaoke on the phone to vent, but Qian Xiaoke was asleep. His phone was on silent—nothing could wake him.
When Qian Xiaoke woke up and saw the late-night voice call from Jiang Tongyan, he sweetly sent back a cute pig-head emoji.
Normally, he might not reply hours later, but Jiang Tongyan was ‘heartbroken’ now—heartbroken folks need comfort and love.
Qian Xiaoke planned to pamper Jiang Tongyan the next few days.
As for why? He didn’t think too hard—just didn’t want him too sad.
How could Jiang Tongyan not be sad? However, he was not sad because his blind date was with Shen Huiming, but because the person he liked was not on the same wavelength as him.
The National holiday passed with Qian Xiaoke chasing chickens and coaxing Jiang Tongyan. Back home, he did a big clean, then kicked off another round of corporate slave life.
Jiang Tongyan’s resignation process was nearly done—just some paperwork left for returning to China.
Lately, with little to do, he had phone meetings with Cheng Sen for work prep, messaged or called Qian Xiaoke, and worked on his indescribable ‘mental condition’.
The effect of the treatment was not seen, but Jiang Tongyan was indeed not as stressed as before.
The doctor suggested trying again with his lover.
Jiang Tongyan: “Lover?”
Qian Xiaoke chasing chickens popped into his head, and he laughed out loud.
A ‘lover’ was a stretch, so doing it with Qian Xiaoke wasn’t an option. But Jiang Tongyan had his sneaky ways.
He was a sly one—knowing Qian Xiaoke felt guilty about this, he morally guilt-tripped him.
One idle moment for him, deep night for Qian Xiaoke, Jiang Tongyan sent a video call invite.
Qian Xiaoke was soaking in the tub, playing a match-three game. He had just discovered how nice baths were.
He hadn’t known before because his old place had no tub. Since he had no experience, he had no clue.
The sudden video invite startled him. He didn’t want to answer, but his hand slipped, and somehow he hit accept.
The screen lit up—Jiang Tongyan’s face loomed huge, freaking him out.
“What’re you doing?” Qian Xiaoke looked spooked.
Jiang Tongyan: “…Where’re you at?”
Qian Xiaoke’s camera wasn’t on selfie mode—Jiang Tongyan saw the foggy mirror in Qian Xiaoke’s bathroom.
“Right here,” Qian Xiaoke said, waving a hand in front of the lens.
“Properly! Let me see!”
“Why?” Qian Xiaoke muttered. “I’m bathing—can’t just show you!”
Bathing.
Bathing!
No need to look—Jiang Tongyan’s face was already red just imagining it.
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