KN | Chapter 11

Red Lights and Tall Monuments

Wednesday was a stock trading day, and Chen Wan went to Mingji Zhonghui to handle some formalities.

The Central Ring district was vast, spreading outward in all directions with White Dove Plaza as its center point. Bauhinia-lined avenues cast dense shade with their interwoven branches and leaves.

Major conglomerates like the Zhao family’s Minglong and the Shen family’s Puli, companies that had already rung the bell, were all housed in the skyscrapers along the sky-high-priced Fenli Street. Newer small and medium-sized firms like Chen Wan’s Kexiang could only lease a few floors in office buildings along the Prince Edward Road West.

Where there were people, there would always be a hierarchy of disdain. Those from Harvard, Cambridge, MIT, and similar backgrounds went to Fenli Street, while those holding Columbia or University of Pennsylvania degrees went to Prince West.

Chen Wan stepped into the building, a wave of cold air hitting him, and unexpectedly saw Zhao Shengge.

The other man was alone, seemingly waiting for a car.

After more than two months of disappearing and existing only in rumor, his sudden reappearance left Chen Wan’s mind blank for a moment. A slow, inexplicable sense of happiness rose within him.

A useless kind of happiness.

Chen Wan did not know whether the other party remembered him. He hesitated for a moment, intending to pretend he had not seen him and walk past. His toes had already turned in that direction when, suddenly, Zhao Shengge happened to glance over.

He was probably checking whether his car had arrived. He looked as though he had been waiting for some time, and likely had something urgent to attend to.

Chen Wan could not pretend not to have seen him, so he walked over.

Zhao Shengge seemed to have some impression of him, but could not place exactly who he was.

Chen Wan was not surprised. He gave a brief, minimal self-introduction. Zhao Shengge nodded lightly and said, in an offhand tone, that his car had broken down.

Chen Wan gave a faint, polite smile. “Are you in a hurry? If you don’t mind, my car is nearby. I can give you a ride.”

Zhao Shengge looked at him. “Is it convenient?”

Chen Wan paused.

He had only asked out of courtesy and had not expected Zhao Shengge to actually agree. Something burst open in his chest, and at the same time he immediately reproached himself for not having driven a better car today.

How could Zhao Shengge sit in a BYD, especially one that had only recently been rammed by some lunatic?

But Chen Wan did not want to give up this opportunity. He said it was convenient and asked where Zhao Shengge was headed. Zhao Shengge named a location. Chen Wan agreed.

Chen Wan led the way. The distance between them was neither near nor far, a standard social distance, but still closer than the few times they had gone out together before.

Zhao Shengge was tall with long legs, and the way he walked carried a restrained sense of presence. Their arms both swung slightly with small movements, stirring the heated air. Chen Wan’s heartbeat rose and fell with Zhao Shengge’s rhythm, like the fluttering wings of white doves in the central plaza.

Zhao Shengge’s arm must be very warm, he thought, his mind slightly dazed.

Chen Wan slipped his hand back into his pocket, took out his keys, and pressed the unlock button toward the BYD parked several meters away.

With a soft beep, a flock of white doves by the fountain scattered into flight.

Chen Wan opened the rear car door for Zhao Shengge like a gentleman, one hand hovering over the roof to shield it. His posture was textbook-perfect.

Zhao Shengge stepped into the car as if it were only natural. The BYD had only just been repaired. The limited space made him frown slightly, his long legs forced to overlap awkwardly.

Chen Wan said apologetically, “The car is a bit small. Please excuse it, Mr. Zhao. There’s water beside you.”

“Thank you.”

Zhao Shengge remained distant. After asking whether the temperature was comfortable, Chen Wan did not speak again, focusing on driving. Not a single extra word of idle conversation was added along the way.

Zhao Shengge sat silently in the back seat as well, so quiet that Chen Wan almost suspected he was the only person in the car.

Yet the presence behind him seemed almost tangible, calm but carrying a heavy sense of pressure that kept him constantly alert.

If Chen Wan had eyes on the back of his head, he would have seen that Zhao Shengge was observing him, openly and without restraint.

Chen Wan drove cleanly and decisively. His hand dropped to the gear lever and lifted again, yielding when needed, overtaking when appropriate.

Zhao Shengge, like an expressionless examiner, let his gaze fall on Chen Wan’s hands, the same right hand that had once brewed tea for them, now gripping the steering wheel.

Zhao Shengge looked away.

For some reason, every light along the way turned red. At each intersection, they sat together in the silent car, waiting out those steady, deliberate thirty-two seconds of chance.

For Zhao Shengge, it was nothing more than idle observation. For Chen Wan, it was a sweet form of torment.

There was almost no sound of breathing in the car. Their eyes met by accident in the rearview mirror, one calm and proud, the other gentle and restrained. A second later, both looked away.

Chen Wan gave a faint, apologetic smile, even taking the blame for the red lights onto himself, feeling that he was delaying the other man’s time.

Zhao Shengge did not respond to that smile. He averted his gaze, answered a phone call, and said, “Traffic.”

“Be there soon.”

Zhao Shengge spoke little, his words concise and efficient. His low voice was like an ant stepping on a tender, weakened nerve somewhere in Chen Wan, crawling its way into his heart.

Their destination was Yingchi.

A pleasure den of Haishi, famous for its excess, its abundance of rare beauties, its unrestrained indulgence, and its utter lack of limits.

Chen Wan, of course, had no unrealistic or improper thoughts. He was absolutely clear-headed, rational, and restrained. But thinking was one thing, reality was another. If emotions could truly be controlled so easily, if they could be summoned and dismissed at will, then their power would be far too ordinary.

If Zhuo Zhixuan were here, he would certainly clap his hands and praise Chen Wan for being remarkable, personally delivering the person he liked into a world of indulgence.

A secret crush was like walking a road to the underworld where one could not speak and could not turn back.

Red lights hung high all the way. When they turned green, the urgent buzzing sounded. The skyscrapers stood like towering monuments, burying a person’s silent, unspoken, nameless affection.

When they arrived at Yingchi, Zhao Shengge said he did not want to get out at the main entrance.

He was not familiar with Chen Wan, yet the way he gave instructions came naturally.

Chen Wan did not turn around. He nodded to Zhao Shengge through the rearview mirror and, while reversing, asked, “Where would you like me to drop you off? Which side entrance?”

Because the police often came to inspect, Yingchi had many hidden entrances. The higher a member’s level, the more entrances they were permitted to use.

Zhao Shengge, with polite courtesy, asked instead, “Where do you think would be appropriate?”

“… ”

Chen Wan paused, unable to read his meaning. He did not know whether Zhao Shengge wanted to be received openly or to keep things discreet.

The interior structure of Yingchi was extremely complex, like a maze in all directions. The club had eight entrances in total, Water Gate, Rain Gate, Kun Gate, and so on. Feng shui was popular in Haishi, and the owner had specifically consulted a master. Each entrance wound through secluded paths and connected in all directions.

Chen Wan did not know whether Zhao Shengge was heading to Building A or Building B. Building A housed certain illicit performances. Building B ran even deeper. He did not know the details, nor was it something he had the standing to ask.

Before Chen Wan could answer, Zhao Shengge added, as if thoughtfully, “Wherever it’s easiest for you to park, I’ll get off there.”

Chen Wan’s headache worsened.

It sounded considerate, but in reality it pushed the decision onto him.

Whichever choice Chen Wan made would reveal a great deal. For example, where he believed Zhao Shengge was going, how much he knew, whether he wanted others to see Zhao Shengge getting out of his car.

It was a difficult situation.

After thinking it through for several seconds, Chen Wan said, “Then I’ll drop you at the Water Gate?”

The Water Gate was essentially a central hub. Once inside, there was a private elevator, and guests could go anywhere they wished.

Seeing Chen Wan return the question again, Zhao Shengge looked at him through the rearview mirror, smiled, and said in an even, casual tone, “You know quite a bit.”

“… ”

Chen Wan wanted to deny it, but feared saying too much would lead to mistakes, so he said nothing.

In truth, he had only been here once with Zhuo Zhixuan. After seeing the explicit and unsettling performances, he had left early.

In the end, Chen Wan dropped Zhao Shengge off at the Water Gate, and without asking whether he needed the car to wait and take him back, he turned the car around and left.

Zhao Shengge waited until the taillights disappeared completely before entering through a different entrance.

One of Yingchi’s shareholders was already waiting at the door, escorting Zhao Shengge directly up to the seventy-eighth floor via a private elevator.

The towering building pierced into the sky like a massive entity in the night fog. Through the one-way glass, one could look down directly onto the extravagance below. Haishi was brightly lit, like a colossal ship sailing through the night.

Inside the private room, a man nearing forty heard the door open. He released the boy on his lap, stood up, and walked over, extending his hand. “Mr. Zhao.”

Zhao Shengge lowered himself to return the gesture, offering a brief, perfunctory handshake. “Mr. Shao.”

Shao Yaozong glanced behind him and saw no one else, but he knew that if Zhao Shengge so much as coughed, dozens of bodyguards armed with K48s would emerge from unknown corners of this seemingly airtight room.

After Zhao Shengge sat down, Shao Yaozong gestured, signaling another boy to come sit beside him.

This one was even more beautiful than the one he had been holding earlier, with a clean, obedient air.

Zhao Shengge did not refuse. He said to the boy, “Pour a drink.”

The boy obediently withdrew the hand he had been about to extend toward Zhao Shengge and sat properly at his side.

Shao Yaozong narrowed his murky eyes. “Mr. Zhao doesn’t like them? I selected them especially for you.”

Neither of the boys were from here. He had brought them himself, chosen with extreme care, one in a hundred.

Zhao Shengge cooperatively glanced at the obedient boy beside him. One hand rested along the back of the sofa, his posture relaxed. “Mr. Shao, you’re too kind.”

He then tilted his chin slightly toward the boy and said in a gentle, commanding tone, “Pull your sleeves down.”