Lin Wangye paused for a second, then looked up at Lu Chengxuan.
Lu Chengxuan, who usually didn’t talk much, actually said more than usual this time. Without opening his eyes, he slowly recalled those old memories and began to speak.
“After he realized he couldn’t win back the marbles he lost, he acted like he didn’t care. He stood up, patted the dirt off his hands, and said the sun was too hot and he didn’t feel like playing anymore. Then he turned around, saw me, and came over to talk.”
Thinking about how Lin Shen had described it as ‘just being bored and chatting with him,’ Lin Wangye couldn’t help but laugh.
Man, this guy’s childhood personality really did match a certain kind of stereotype.
With that thought in his head, Lin Wangye picked up another piece of dragon fruit and, face full of curiosity, pressed on.
“So what happened next? Then what?”
After listening to Lu Chengxuan tell the story from his point of view, Lin Wangye finally pieced together the details of how those two first met.
When Lu Chengxuan told Lin Shen he didn’t know much about those games, Lin Shen was completely shocked—he just couldn’t believe there was someone who had never even watched ‘Armor Hero’.
In his mind, that was as basic and normal as being able to recite ‘Plowing grain under the midday sun.’
But Lu Chengxuan had no clue what he was talking about.
And when Lin Shen started rattling off a bunch of cartoon names, Lu Chengxuan hadn’t heard of a single one.
Lin Shen was totally blown away. He even felt kind of sorry for Lu Chengxuan’s boring childhood.
From then on, he started dragging Lu Chengxuan into their boys’ circle to play together.
Lu Chengxuan had been raised with top-tier education from the moment he was born. He started learning both Chinese and English as a little kid. By the time other kids were still struggling with pinyin in primary school, he already had a solid foundation in two languages.
Everything that went into his brain had to be useful.
So when it came to those games, he honestly wasn’t that into them.
But what really got him was the curiosity—he couldn’t figure out why something that looked so pointless could make other kids so obsessed, willing to pour so much time into it.
He had this habit of needing to figure out anything he didn’t understand.
So, under Lin Shen’s lead, he jumped in and tried it out for himself.
And in the end, he realized that the reason everyone loved those games so much wasn’t because they were meaningful in any real way, but because the act of playing itself was fun.
That idea clashed hard with everything Lu Chengxuan had been taught growing up.
He started to question whether it was really okay to do something just because it was fun—but then he noticed, almost all the boys around him were into the same stuff: mechas and action-packed cartoons, marbles and spinning tops.
So he started trying to understand everything Lin Shen was into.
Like that sharp, clear clack when the marble he flicked hit the target dead-on.
Like that satisfying moment when the spinning top he assembled knocked the opponent’s off the board.
In those moments, he felt the same kind of satisfaction he got from learning something new—but along with it came a feeling that was completely unfamiliar.
It was light. Pure. Free of pressure.
He told his mom about it, and Lu Wei told him, ‘That’s what happiness feels like.’
Lu Chengxuan had learned that word a long time ago. But that was the first time he actually understood what happiness looked and felt like.
Kids at that age are full of energy.
In just a few years of elementary school, the games they played during recess came and went fast. What was ‘in’ changed constantly based on whatever cartoon or superhero movie was trending at the time.
The stuff Lin Shen liked switched just as quickly.
But he always kept up with the latest schoolyard trends like it was nothing. Lu Chengxuan, on the other hand, couldn’t keep up.
He didn’t watch cartoons. His home TV never played that kind of stuff. The only time he ever saw a TV screen was when his dad had some free time and called him over to watch the news—talking about economic growth and global markets.
Without Lin Shen dragging him in, he never would’ve fit into the group.
Not being able to follow what other kids were talking about felt awful. So even though most of that stuff didn’t really mean anything, Lu Chengxuan still instinctively didn’t want to be the odd one out.
And for a long while, Lin Shen basically became his compass.
The turning point came in eighth grade, when Lin Shen’s mom passed away from illness. He stopped coming to school for a long time. And when he finally came back, he wasn’t the same—quiet, distant, clearly shaken.
He didn’t turn into a completely different person. Over time, his smile slowly came back.
But he also started getting more rebellious.
He picked up smoking. Started ditching class. Hung out at internet cafes all the time.
And the rest of the story, well—it played out exactly the way Lin Shen had already told it.
Lin Pengcheng cut ties with the Lu family. The partnership ended without a word, like a silent divorce.
Once they were out of school, Lin Shen and Lu Chengxuan barely saw each other again.
Lu Chengxuan didn’t say anything more. That was where the story ended.
Lin Wangye went over the whole thing in his head, from start to finish, and still felt like something was missing—like there was a piece of that memory the two of them hadn’t mentioned.
And it felt like it was something important—something really critical.
Back then, both Lin Shen and Lu Chengxuan were only in middle school. They hadn’t gotten involved in their family businesses yet, so even if their fathers cut ties, knowing Lin Shen’s personality, that alone wouldn’t have made him pull away from Lu Chengxuan.
Something else had to have happened in between.
And it had to be something neither of them wanted to talk about. So when they told their stories, it was like they silently agreed to leave that part out.
But what exactly could it be—something serious enough that even Lu Chengxuan didn’t want to mention it?
The fact that he wouldn’t say a word about it made Lin Wangye hesitate. He wasn’t sure if he should even ask.
But deep down, he had a gut feeling that this missing piece was the knot that had always quietly existed between the two of them.
After going back and forth in his mind, Lin Wangye gritted his teeth and made up his mind.
If he asked directly, there was no guarantee Lu Chengxuan would answer.
But if he didn’t ask, then Lu Chengxuan definitely wouldn’t say anything.
‘Hesitation leads to failure!’
With that thought, Lin Wangye swallowed his apple, stared straight at Lu Chengxuan, and said, “Why are your stories different?”
Lu Chengxuan paused slightly, then looked up and met his eyes.
“How are they different?”
The living room fell silent. Just the two of them talking.
Under Lu Chengxuan’s gaze, Lin Wangye felt cornered. Maybe it was guilt from trying to pull a trick, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Lu Chengxuan’s look held a kind of suspicion—like he was being sized up, carefully judged.
But the more he felt that way, the more Lin Wangye forced himself to meet his gaze head-on.
He figured Lu Chengxuan probably wouldn’t just call Lin Shen on the spot to check. He gambled everything on that hunch, stuck to his story, and shot back with confidence: “You mean to tell me you completely forgot? That it didn’t mean anything to you?”
He paused on purpose for two seconds, then added a sharp edge to his tone.
“Back in eighth grade!”
Maybe Lu Chengxuan hadn’t expected to be called out like that.
Maybe it was because Lin Wangye sounded so sure, and the timing he guessed was spot-on.
Or maybe it wasn’t even surprising—maybe deep down, he figured Lin Shen would eventually tell Lin Wangye the very thing he’d chosen to hide.
Just one more question—just a little more pressure—and Lin Wangye might’ve pulled it off.
But to his surprise, Lu Chengxuan didn’t even think twice before answering, “Of course I didn’t forget. I know how much it meant to him.”
Lin Wangye’s eyes lit up, joy exploding in his chest—but he didn’t let a single trace show on his face, afraid he’d give himself away. Riding the momentum, he pressed on without hesitation.
“Then what were you thinking?!”
Lu Chengxuan looked like he hadn’t planned to explain anything. But after considering that Lin Wangye might pass along whatever he said to Lin Shen, he finally opened his mouth.
“That winter break, my mom wanted to go to the islands for a vacation. I thought it’d be a short trip, but when it ended, my dad sent me straight overseas.”
After he said that, Lu Chengxuan let out a quiet sigh and slowly lowered his gaze.
“It’s true I broke my promise. But it wasn’t my choice.”
Lin Wangye quickly pieced everything together, but he was so stunned he nearly blurted out all the questions rushing through his head. Halfway through, he remembered he was supposed to keep his cover—and forced himself to switch to a scolding tone instead.
“You bailed on him… seriously, how could you do that?!”
His fake anger sounded a little shaky, but Lu Chengxuan didn’t seem to notice. His mind was clearly somewhere else.
He rubbed his brow and said in a low voice, “I didn’t have a say in the matter. My passport wasn’t even with me back then.”
“He didn’t tell me what it was—what kind of promise was it?” Lin Wangye asked carefully.
“That year, Yingtian Mountain Scenic Area had just opened. He wanted to go clear his head, and he invited me to go with him.” Lu Chengxuan let out a soft sigh. “Later on, I found out his mom had promised to take him… but then…”
Lu Chengxuan’s eyes darkened, and he stopped. The rest of the sentence never came.
But Lin Wangye finally understood why Lin Shen’s attitude toward Lu Chengxuan had always been so strange.
In both his past life and this one, Lin Shen had always been someone who took promises really seriously.
And this one—he just couldn’t let it go.
But at the same time, he couldn’t let go of Lu Chengxuan either.
That’s why he was always hot and cold, back and forth, never fully close but never completely distant.
Now that he finally understood the knot between these two, Lin Wangye found himself more troubled than ever. Because when it comes to emotional wounds like this, no one but the people involved can truly untangle them.
He couldn’t help frowning. After thinking for a moment, he ended up asking the same question he had once asked Lin Shen.
“Brother Lu… do you like him?”
As soon as the words fell, Lu Chengxuan looked up at Lin Wangye. His eyes held a mess of emotions—surprise, hesitation, confusion, and a flash of something uncertain that vanished just as quickly.
“‘Like’ covers a lot of ground. I can’t say for sure whether I do or don’t.” He said, “But what I can say is that I care. I care about him a lot.”
Lin Wangye’s eyes flickered. In that moment, he finally understood what Lin Shen meant when he said his heart ached for him.
Lu Chengxuan, born into near-perfection, with not a single flaw in his background or abilities—his emotional world was so empty, it was almost heartbreaking.
Maybe Lu Chengxuan didn’t even know what it felt like to truly like something from the bottom of his heart.
Even when he was a kid playing games with Lin Shen, he was never into the games themselves.
What he wanted to study… was Lin Shen.
And the same applied to people. Lu Chengxuan didn’t really know what it meant to like someone either.
Even if his heart had skipped a beat for someone, he wouldn’t understand what that feeling meant.
Because he had been raised on a strictly rational kind of education.
You identify the problem, define it clearly, and then work toward a solution.
But love… love is emotional.
And from a rational perspective, you’ll never find the answer.
That’s why Lu Chengxuan could always put up with Lin Shen losing his temper, always stay calm no matter how unreasonable or difficult Lin Shen was being.
He would think about the reason behind it. He wanted to solve the puzzle.
But sadly, he was never going to figure it out.
Because the root of Lin Shen’s behavior was just pure emotion—being moody, irrational, picking fights on purpose.
Lin Wangye didn’t even know how to explain the word ‘like’ in a way that Lu Chengxuan could understand.
He racked his brain for a long time before finally asking,
“Let me put it another way. Can you accept him being with someone else?”
As soon as he said that, the image of Lin Shen hanging around with Yang Qingsen flashed through Lu Chengxuan’s mind. His brows furrowed.
Lin Wangye, knowing full well how Lin Shen liked to flirt and act all ambiguous, immediately figured out what Lu Chengxuan was thinking. So he rephrased it.
“Hugging, kissing, doing all those intimate things.”
Lu Chengxuan hadn’t actually seen any of that happen. But based on what he’d witnessed at the door not long ago, it wasn’t hard to picture it in his head.
Still, he didn’t give any clear answer.
But Lin Wangye didn’t push any further—because his goal wasn’t to get an answer, but to help Lu Chengxuan figure out what ‘liking someone’ really meant.
Seeing that Lu Chengxuan stayed quiet, he summed it up for him.
“I care about Lin Shen too. But if he were doing all that stuff with someone else, I honestly wouldn’t care. I care about him, yeah—but I like Xu Suinian. So I can’t stand the thought of him being intimate with anyone but me. That’s possessiveness—and that kind of possessiveness comes from liking someone.”
Lu Chengxuan didn’t respond directly, but it was clear he was taking it in.
“Have you ever tried just sitting down and talking it out with him?” Lin Wangye asked again.
“I have,” Lu Chengxuan replied. Then he shook his head. “But he doesn’t want to talk to me.”
Lin Wangye knew what Lin Shen’s temper was like. He rubbed his head in frustration, clearly running out of ideas, and on top of that, he was starting to feel sleepy.
This wasn’t the kind of problem that could be solved in one go.
Stretching his arms, he stood up and said to Lu Chengxuan, “Let’s talk later. It’s the New Year—can’t be starting it off all stressed out, or we’ll be stressed all year. I’m going to bed.”
Lu Chengxuan gave a soft reply, then suddenly asked, “Do you have plans for the night of the first day of the new year?”
Chinese New Year’s Eve was the day after tomorrow, and the first day of the new year was the day after that.
Lin Wangye paused. “Not really. Why?”
“There’s a family dinner that night,” Lu Chengxuan said. “A lot of people are coming—close relatives. Want to come?”
Lin Wangye pointed at himself. “Me?”
“Your household registration is with my uncle, and you’re living at my place. Not just my dad—most of my relatives already know about you. In a way, you’re basically part of the Lu family.”
Lin Wangye imagined the scene for a second and felt his head spin. “I don’t know… I’m just some random kid. I wouldn’t know a single person there. It’d be so awkward…”
Lu Chengxuan looked at him quietly. When Wangye finished rambling, he calmly added,
“According to our family tradition, if you’re still in school and not married, you’re considered a kid. That means you get red envelopes. And since it’s your first time showing up, and there’ll be a lot of older relatives there… each envelope’s usually three to five thousand, maybe more depending on the person…”
“I’m free, Brother Lu! I’m super free!”
*
Author’s Note:
Lin Shen: Give a man a fish.
Lu Chengxuan: Teach a man to fish.[mfn]This bit is a humorous play on the classic proverb: ‘Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.’[/mfn]
Lin Wangye: …Is this what they mean by riches raining from the sky???
Hello, everyone ヾ(＾∇＾). I hope you enjoyed the story! If you’re feeling generous, please buy me a coffee, share/comment on my translated works! Check out the link below for early chapters. (๑>ᴗ<๑)
