Chapter 10: Roses Meet the Tiger

Chapter 10: Roses Meet the Tiger

"I just ran into someone from the Fang family, had a chat, now I'm in the parking lot."

"Alright, wait a moment, I'll come down."

Among a row of luxury cars with custom plates, Zhuo Zhixuan found the Maybach, walked over, and knocked on the car door.

The rear window rolled down, Zhao Shengge reclined in his seat, his hand casually resting on the window edge, nodded at him, and asked, "What's up?"

Zhuo Zhixuan slightly bent down and handed him the item: "The staff found it while cleaning, it must be yours."

The cigarette case and lighter were wrapped in kraft paper, neat and clean, not like a lost item found during cleaning, but more like a gift.

Zhao Shengge took it, unwrapped it, glanced at it, and suddenly looked up, staring straight at Zhuo Zhixuan, his gaze calm, slow, and unfathomable.

Zhuo Zhixuan's palms suddenly felt sweaty, even though he was the one standing above in this posture.

But Zhao Shengge's dark eyebrows and eyes, even when looking at someone without any particular intent, could convey a profound scrutiny and sharpness, even if he himself didn't mean it.

Zhuo Zhixuan suddenly remembered when they were kids playing football together, they were on Zhao Shengge's team. If they lost, Zhao Shengge wouldn't get angry, he would patiently guide everyone to adjust their tactics, then say a few encouraging words, not many, but very impactful. Some people are born with leadership and a sense of security, easily bringing a group together.

Zhao Shengge was very lenient with teammates who didn't perform well, but if someone deliberately offsided and passed back, he would never see that person around Zhao Shengge again.

Not being strong enough was forgivable, but lying and cheating, Zhao Shengge would not forgive.

Zhuo Zhixuan really wanted to know if there was anyone in the world who could lie in front of Zhao Shengge without feeling guilty.

Oh, there was one person.

Chen Wan, the great philanthropist.

He really owed Chen Wan from his past life, no, he also owed him his life in this one.

Just as Zhuo Zhixuan was about to say something, Zhao Shengge gave him a faint smile: "Thanks for making the trip."

"...No problem." Because he had to talk to him, Zhuo Zhixuan maintained a bowing posture.

Zhao Shengge handed him a cigarette, patted his shoulder, and said, "The hotel is great, off to a good start," then left.

"..."

Chen Wan was helping Zhuo Zhixuan see off guests at the hotel, unaware that he had unknowingly narrowly escaped a close call.

He always thought Zhao Shengge wouldn't remember him, but he didn't know he had a face that could tempt people to commit crimes, nor did he know that Zhao Shengge might handle a hundred things in a day, but the people he needed to meet in a week might not even reach ten.

Moreover, he was such a vigilant and suspicious person.

Zhao Shengge sat in the back seat of the car, legs crossed, playing with the lighter, then casually tossed it aside.

The weather in the city was unpredictable, and now rain was falling outside the car window, the raindrops like broken threads streaking the glass, the wind was fierce, and the observatory was likely about to issue a red rain warning.

The day after the last Typhoon Signal No. 8 was lifted in the city, Zhao Shengge went to Tan Youming's club after a video conference.

The lighting, music, and even the temperature that night were exceptionally perfect, relaxing, subtly different from all previous visits.

When the fruit platter was served, Shen Zongnian asked Tan Youming, "Did you upgrade your services here?"

Zhao Shengge lounged on the sofa, glanced at the fruit platter, which was almost entirely his favorite tropical fruits.

The mangosteen had been lightly scored with a cross-shaped cut.

This finicky fruit, when pried open, stains your hands with purple juice, but if the flesh is picked out too soon, it oxidizes and discolors in minutes.

The cross-shaped cut makes it easier to pry open while keeping the flesh protected under the peel.

A Ruby pomelo had also been cut open and seeded, and even the usually picky Zhao Shengge had a few extra slices that night.

It wasn’t Tan Youming’s club upgrading its service—it was just someone extra who cared.

Chen Wan stayed in the shadows, keeping a low profile, while Zhao Shengge scrutinized him under the spotlight.

This wasn’t a one-off.

After one dinner at Shen Zongnian’s tea house, a group of men sat around an octagonal table talking business, while Chen Wan quietly fetched a teapot to boil water and brew tea.

He barely spoke, his hands pale, with a tiny mole between the roots of his right index and middle fingers.

He seemed gentle, modest, and the perfect homemaker.

He even gauged the tea cup temperature perfectly in his hands.

These details stuck in Zhao Shengge’s mind like precise pins.

Wherever Chen Wan was, the air felt just right.

It didn’t happen often, but it was enough.

Enough to put Zhao Shengge on alert.

To be fair, Chen Wan was natural and open, his thoughtfulness subtle and seamless, like a breeze leaving no trace.

Most importantly, he treated everyone equally.

He didn’t fawn over Tan Youming or scold the waiter who spilled wine. He was polite, measured, and knew how to handle situations.

He was clever, turning his thoughtful etiquette into a universal charm—not favoring anyone, but equally observant and considerate.

He expertly played the humble, subservient role, deepening that image.

It was seamless, flawless. Chen Wan was masterful, almost supernatural—and he nearly succeeded. Unfortunately, he ran into Zhao Shengge, whose mind was sharper than a pineapple’s spikes.

Everyone accepted Chen Wan’s kindness without question, but Zhao Shengge didn’t.

Zhao Shengge wasn’t narcissistic, but Chen Wan rinsing the Da Hong Pao tea twice that night caught his attention.

In Haishi, they say, "Stronger tea means bigger business." People here drank strong tea, but Zhao Shengge had switched to lighter tea after his stomach was ruined by foreign food during his years abroad.

Occasionally, his secretary would forget to filter the tea leaves twice, and Zhao Shengge could tell with the first sip, though he never mentioned it.

Zhao Shengge wasn’t used to being harsh on others; as long as it wasn’t a principled mistake, he didn’t really mind.

But this was a very small yet personal habit.

Zhao Shengge didn’t like to explain things as coincidences. He liked clues, unraveling mysteries, and extracting objective laws from randomness.

Coincidences are accidental, but laws are eternal.

Chen Wan wanted to label and disguise himself as "vulgar" and "worldly," but he missed one thing—he didn’t let Zhao Shengge see his intentions.

Someone whose motives are unclear is dangerous.

Chen Wan is clever, but he wasn’t lucky—he ran into Zhao Shengge.

When a rose meets a tiger, its scent is already betrayed without a sniff.

Since childhood, Zhao Shengge has encountered sweet-talkers, backstabbers, and countless people playing hard to get.

The cigarette case and lighter were just a little test—they didn’t prove a thing.

Not seizing the moment only shows Chen Wan’s discretion, not that he’s harmless.

He thought he was giving unnoticed, but Zhao Shengge could just as easily decline without a hint.

Chen Wan stays quiet, like a wisp of mist, drifting in and out, scattered by the wind.

Zhao Shengge hates ambiguity, the unknown, uncertainty, and mind games.

That’s why BYD ended up in an unwarranted mess at the auction.

The next day, Chen Wan went to the shop to get his car.

BYD had problems after an ill-advised showdown with a Rolls-Royce and had to be repaired.

The shop owner, a friend, asked how he’d driven a car famed for its endurance until the engine overheated.

Chen Wan patted his car’s hood and sneered, “Met a crazy guy.”

After the auction, he looked into it but found nothing; the ordinary yet smug Rolls-Royce seemed to disappear into thin air.

Just like Zhao Shengge after the opening banquet—vanishing for nearly two months without a trace.

Even Tan Youming couldn’t track him down. Zhao Shengge’s busy, high-profile, and cautious after a shooting abroad two years ago. Everyone gets it—or has just gotten used to it.

Chen Wan never asked, but Zhuo Zhixuan knew him well and casually suggested at a gathering that Zhao Shengge might’ve gone to Canada for an important economic meeting.

Zhao Shengge was just elected to the Asia-Pacific Trade Association this year, so it made sense he’d be there.

Tan Youming cut in, saying it wasn’t Canada—he’d probably gone to Singapore, where Minglong was building new factories.

Zhao Shengge wouldn’t usually handle factory construction, but these were fully intelligent. Minglong—or Zhao Shengge—is always ahead of the curve. This was the first large-scale use of a new AL program, but Tan Youming wasn’t sure, so he glanced at Shen Zongnian, who stayed silent, whether he knew or not.

He’s always tight-lipped. Tan Youming squinted, “You’re not lying, are you?”

Back in school, Zhao Shengge only called Shen Zongnian for robotics and model planes, thinking Tan Youming and Zhuo Zhixuan couldn’t focus for long.

Shen Zongnian shrugged, as cool as ever, “I’m not.”

Chen Wan didn’t know who to trust. The conversation went in circles, revealing nothing, leaving him a little disappointed.

He couldn’t help thinking how hard it is to be Zhao Shengge’s friend. Would the person by his side also have to wait silently, meeting only every few months, with Zhao Shengge’s whereabouts a mystery?

Always waiting, always silent.

But none of this concerned Chen Wan.

Even if he wanted to, it wasn’t his turn. Chen Wan was already the one waiting, but he didn’t know how long he could last.

Seeing Chen Wan silently sipping tea, Zhuo Zhixuan felt a pang of worry. On his way out, he pulled him aside and said firmly, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

"What?"

Zhuo Zhixuan sized him up for a moment and said, "Those were just guesses. Don’t take it so seriously. If Zhao Shengge really wants to hide, even his family’s elders can’t track him down."

"..." Chen Wan looked at him as if he were a fool, "Do I look crazy to you?"

Zhuo Zhixuan looked at him as if he were a lunatic and replied quite seriously, "You already are, you know."

"..."