Chapter 17

He tossed the paper bag to him again. "Bought it for you."

"You really are such a good person!" Shi Jihan was happy again, changing moods faster than flipping a page.

He took out the beef and scrambled egg sandwich, took a huge bite, then gulped down several mouthfuls of cola. The rich, greasy aroma mixed with the bubbles of ice-cold cola, making him like a little lightbulb plugged into a happiness circuit—biu, lighting up all at once.

Zhou Jingcheng was chatting with his younger brother. Zhou Zeyang had gotten used to waking up before dawn to walk the dog. Today, his body clock woke him up and left him with nothing to do, so he felt strangely lonely.

[Yangzi Fried Rice: Bro, what are you doing? When are you bringing Pizza back?]

Zhou Jingcheng glanced sideways at someone whose cheeks were puffed full of food. The corner of his lips suddenly curved up. He snapped a picture of Shi Jihan's chubby cheeks, which looked remarkably like Crayon Shin-chan's, and sent it to Zhou Zeyang.

[z: Enslaving your boss to walk my dog for me. [Photo]]

[Yangzi Fried Rice: Whoa, the boss is so cute! I want to poke his cheeks.]

[z: ?]

[z: Don't you have a face of your own?]

[z: Poke yours.]

The bread in Shi Jihan's hand attracted quite a few pigeons from the plaza. One plump little pigeon after another flapped onto him, trying to snatch the sandwich from his hand.

Shi Jihan beamed. "Hey, hey, don't fight. There's enough for everyone. I'll tear some off for you... I said don't fight! That piece is mine!"

Among the fluttering pigeons, he dodged left and right. After they tugged his hair and rumpled his clothes, he sank his breath into his abdomen and unleashed an enraged roar. "Aaaah! Get away from me, all of you!!"

His shout startled the wicked cooing pigeons, sending them scrambling away in panic. As one flapped off, it accidentally slapped this overly dramatic human across the face.

The fallen slice of bread was snatched into Pizza's mouth in one bite.

Shi Jihan: ...

After suffering a collective bread-slice rebellion, his sandwich was left with only the filling.

A camera flash went off.

"...Forgot to turn it off?" Zhou Jingcheng withdrew his hand without the slightest guilt, admiring his candid shot.

Shi Jihan's little curls had exploded into a dandelion. Five or six pigeons were wildly dancing on top of his head, tearing at the bread they had snatched from his hand. One particularly arrogant fat pigeon was even hopping back and forth atop his sandwich, no different from standing on an enemy's corpse and furiously spamming the return button.

Meanwhile, Shi Jihan could only rage helplessly, waving his hands through the air like someone making a final desperate struggle before being plucked bald.

Zhou Jingcheng carefully admired the candid photo, even zooming in on parts of it and repeatedly torturing him with it. From the Live Photo, he selected the most absurd frame.

"Delete it!" Shi Jihan lunged forward to grab it.

Zhou Jingcheng immediately stood up and, with his overwhelming height advantage, pressed a hand against Shi Jihan's head and pushed him away, letting him flail. He held the phone high overhead and turned every candid shot into a sticker pack right in front of Shi Jihan.

His gaze swept over Shi Jihan's furious brows and eyes. His drawling tone carried a smile. "Shorty, can you reach it?"

The fingers threaded through his hair were especially impolite as they ruffled Shi Jihan's little curls.

Shi Jihan was furious: !!!

He broke free from Zhou Jingcheng, retreated two steps, lowered himself into a stance, and charged after gathering momentum.

He gave Zhou Jingcheng a righteous headbutt!

It slammed straight into Zhou Jingcheng's chin.

[Ding, Malice Points +5!]

"Gah—!" His teeth clacked violently together in that instant, and the tip of his tongue tasted rust. Zhou Jingcheng sharply sucked in a breath, his fingers reflexively covering his chin.

The only thought in his aching head was: Why was Shi Jihan's head so hard?

Pizza was panting at his owner with his tongue out, a wicked trace of mockery in his black fully-lined eyes.

Zhou Jingcheng took out his phone and checked. His tongue was cut; it showed whenever he spoke, and his words came out slurred. Sucking in a breath, he said, "Shi Jihan, I have a card game this afternoon. How am I supposed to go socialize with people?"

Shi Jihan looked smug, wagging a finger. "Easy. Use sign language. If you don't like someone, just slap them."

Zhou Jingcheng: "..."

Why had he been such an idiot that he just had to provoke this guy?

He regretted it to death.

[Ding, mission issued: Ruin Zhou Jingcheng's Texas Hold'em game. Reward: Malice Points +13.]

[Texas Hold'em? What's that?] Shi Jihan went blank. [I've only eaten Texas braised chicken.]

Zhou Jingcheng thought, If I can't afford to provoke him, can't I at least avoid him?

He had only just sworn to stay away from Shi Jihan when, that afternoon, the two of them ended up sitting at the same card table, staring at each other.

Zhou Jingcheng covered his eyes. His chin started hurting again, and he felt that he must have committed too many sins for heaven to send someone like this to curse him.

Shi Jihan spotted Dianjia Bro, sitting alone in the corner and falling apart, at a glance.

000 asked him, [What's wrong with Dianjia Bro? He looked like he was in a pretty good mood this morning.]

Shi Jihan replied solemnly, [You don't understand. It's all part of his persona. Dianjia Bro's persona today is obviously a melancholy onion-head.]

[Why not a shattered white moonlight?]

[That won't do. It'd clash with mine,] Shi Jihan said. [When I was writing the twenty-seventh version of my thesis, that was my persona.]

So shattered he cried.

This was a business card game. Shi Jihan had no idea why big shots always liked picking all sorts of places to flaunt their wealth and status—every one of them some high-end venue he had never seen before.

The enormous oval card table was polished like a mirror, reflecting the Baroque crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. People sat in twos and threes on high-backed leather chairs. The scent of cigars lingered in the air, slowly circling together with the tapping of the bosses' pinky rings against the tabletop, giving off an oppressive gloom.

The servers moved like precisely programmed machines, topping off the whiskey before the glasses were even empty, then silently withdrawing.

Shi Bochuan had brought him this time. Otherwise, Shi Jihan would not have had the admission pass to enter. When Shi Bochuan heard that he wanted to come here, he had been extremely surprised.

Seeing him look around, Shi Bochuan lowered his voice and explained, "This game was organized by Zhou Jingcheng's competitors. His expansion into the overseas entertainment industry has made other people unhappy. This is a trap meant to take him down a peg."

"See that blond man playing cards with him? He's the local kingpin overseas."

Shi Jihan half-understood. [000, it seems like we've gotten involved in a real business war.]

000 rubbed its hands together and encouraged him. [It's okay, Host. We're businesspeople too. In the future, we'll have tens of millions in savings!]

Shi Jihan replied, [A phone with tens of millions of pixels sounds more likely.]

The atmosphere here was strange. Even Zhou Jingcheng's smile differed from usual. Shi Jihan took one look and finally understood what a fake-smile boy was—his smile never reached his eyes.

Only the despair he showed when he saw Shi Jihan did not seem fake.

The game was already halfway through. Zhou Jingcheng and the blond guy had gone from probing exchanges to outright battle. Both lightly rubbed the cards in their hands, constantly calculating probabilities in their minds and anticipating how to outplay each other.

Zhou Jingcheng lowered his eyes, his lashes casting shadows beneath the cold light and hiding the precise calculations in his gaze. He looked relaxed and at ease, but he was actually having a terrible time. —Of course. He had successfully isolated himself from everyone.

Every guest at the table had come for him, each eager to tear a piece of flesh from him.

Oh. Except for the two brothers from the Shi Family.

Shi Bochuan did not play cards and had no idea how this worked. Since his younger brother wanted to come, he guessed, "Is the dessert buffet here especially famous? Want me to get you some?"

Before he had even finished speaking, Shi Jihan pulled him down to sit at the table.

This immediately drew everyone's attention. The big shots silently watched his every move. Some glanced sideways, while others frowned.

Shi Jihan said, "This game is too low-end. Let's play something else."

Low-end?

Someone laughed.

It was the first time they had heard anyone describe it that way.

The secretary brought by the blond guy wanted to step forward and stop him, but the man raised a hand to halt him. Speaking in stiff, unfamiliar Chinese, he said, "Then tell me, what counts as high-end?"

Shi Jihan dumped the large canvas bag he had brought onto the table, pouring out a tableful of mahjong tiles with a clatter.

"Let's play a national treasure."

A little shock for the foreigners.

Everyone: ?

The violinist smoothly changed tunes, perceptively switching from "The Blue Danube" to "Wishing You Prosperity."

The upscale club instantly became a neighborhood mahjong parlor.

Shi Jihan pulled in his older brother, then Zhou Jingcheng and the blond guy. The four gathered around a table.

Zhou Jingcheng was pulled into a seat in a daze.

Someone explained the rules of mahjong to the blond guy, and he remarked: It was that simple?

He contemptuously played one of his tiles.

Shi Jihan said, "No. Take it back. That's wrong."

The blond guy questioned him. "How is it wrong?"

Shi Jihan tossed out a five wan, then a one bamboo. "I won. You have to skip three rounds."

The blond guy was displeased. "Why?"

"Because it's May Day. Our company gets three days off."

The other three: ???

The blond guy thought quickly and tossed out a four bamboo and a six wan. "Tomb-Sweeping Festival. You also skip three rounds."

"No, take them back," Shi Jihan said. "You're not from this country, so you don't celebrate Tomb-Sweeping Festival."

The blond guy: ?

His temper flared. He threw out a one bamboo and a one dot, loudly arguing, "January first, New Year's Day! That's a public holiday in both countries, isn't it?"

"No, take them back." Shi Jihan did it for the third time.

The blond guy demanded, "What exactly gives you the right?"

Shi Jihan said, "I own shares in my company. I now order the whole company not to take New Year's Day off."

Zhou Jingcheng: ?

He silently turned his head, covered his face with his tiles, and laughed.

That reason made the blond guy so angry that his Chinese became fluent. "You really are an idiot! A big idiot! You're like a turnip—no! You're as terrible as a burnt potato! You're such a potato!"

[Ding, Malice Points +0.35]