Chapter 46: The Rules of Casual Friends

Chapter 46: The Rules of Casual Friends

When Shen Zongnian arrived at Minglong, it was the seventh consecutive hour that Zhao Shengge had been working while ill.

After waking up in the middle of the night, Zhao Shengge was wide awake. He didn’t take any more medication; often, work was a better remedy than medicine for him.

Since the driver had also caught the flu, Zhao Shengge had been driving himself to and from work these days.

The desk was piled with many folders, all sorted and categorized by Zhao Shengge. Even while working overtime while sick, he remained efficient and methodical.

The ashtray was filled with cigarette butts, and the strong citrus scent from the flavor capsules had turned pungent.

From Zhao Shengge’s expression, Shen Zongnian couldn’t tell what had happened after he sent the photo from the night before. Zhao Shengge’s emotions were always steady and calm.

Shen Zongnian opened the window to let in fresh air, then helped himself to a cup of tea without asking any further questions.

Zhao Shengge got straight to the point. Both men were concise and to the point, making their conversation highly efficient.

During the discussion, Zhao Shengge coughed several times, making him pause. He covered his mouth with a fist, his brows furrowed in apparent discomfort.

Shen Zongnian asked, "Are you sick again?"

Zhao Shengge’s body had always been contradictory and peculiar since childhood—sometimes robust, sometimes fragile.

His robustness was evident in swimming, shooting, and equestrian exams and competitions, where he often set records that stunned his competitors. His fragility, however, showed in how he caught every flu and frequently suffered from stomachaches.

Shen Zongnian believed it was because Zhao Shengge didn’t take care of himself—whether it was eating or sleeping. Even AI needs regular upkeep, but Zhao Shengge’s life seemed to lack this aspect. He was like a high-speed, never-stopping work machine.

Zhao Shengge’s voice was deeper and hoarser than it had been on the phone yesterday: "No."

His phone lit up, and he picked it up to glance at it for a while before replying and setting it back down.

The screen lit up several more times later, but Zhao Shengge didn’t pay attention. Shen Zongnian noticed that his efficiency seemed to drop slightly during their conversation, like an AI program with a subtle glitch—seemingly functional but flawed, perhaps only known to Zhao Shengge himself.

"Should I ask Tan Youming to feel things out?"

Zhuo Zhixuan wasn’t always idle. Today, he had come to the securities trading center for business and decided to have lunch with Chen Wan.

"No need," Chen Wan said, putting down his phone, which had become warm from overuse. His expression was serious.

Zhuo Zhixuan saw that in the chat, Zhao Shengge had given a thorough reply to a work-related question.

Chen Wan had taken the effort to simplify Fang Jian’s complex and intricate model into more digestible data and text, clearly putting in effort.

Zhao Shengge thanked him, his words polite and with no trace of resentment.

As adults, neither of them would mix personal emotions with work.

However, when it came to Chen Wan’s concern about Zhao Shengge’s health, Zhao Shengge dismissed it briefly.

As for Chen Wan’s offer to ride with Zhao Shengge if his driver hadn’t returned to work, since he was heading to the securities building anyway, Zhao Shengge just replied, "No need, thank you."

Chen Wan lingered on those few words for a long time.

Last night, Chen Wan had tried to call Zhao Shengge back, but whether Zhao Shengge was asleep, working, or for some other reason, he didn’t answer.

Since it was late, Chen Wan didn’t want to disturb the patient and didn’t call again.

Early this morning, he sent a message asking about Zhao Shengge's health and condition, and streamlined the group tasks needing Zhao Shengge's approval to lighten the workload.

Regarding work matters, Zhao Shengge responded to each with courtesy and propriety.

But he said little about his own condition.

Chen Wan couldn’t tell whether Zhao Shengge had indeed developed a fever later, if his sore throat and headache had subsided, or whether his condition had worsened or improved now.

Chen Wan could only stare at his phone, lingering on the words "No need, thank you."

Zhuo Zhixuan couldn’t tell what Chen Wan had noticed.

Zhao Shengge was always so concise, leaving little room for others to guess. He didn’t know how Chen Wan interpreted it, only seeing him with a cigarette between his lips, his eyes downcast, and sending a message in the dialog box: "Alright, then you go ahead and take care of your health."

Zhuo Zhixuan: "..."

Chen Wan put out the cigarette and quickly sent Tan Youming a private message, asking, "Young Master Tan, you said you wanted to play bowling last time. Still up for it? The bowling alley that was renovated recently reopened."

He offered to arrange it if Young Master Tan was interested.

Of course, he’d allow enough time for the sick person to recover.

Chen Wan rarely took the initiative to organize events, only stepping in when the young masters wanted something arranged.

But that vague phone call had been like a thorn in his side.

Chen Wan didn’t think Zhao Shengge would be bothered by such a thing. The other party had hung up politely, and aside from taking a bit longer to reply than usual, he remained as patient as ever with work.

But he also felt something intangible slipping away.

He didn’t know what it was, but it felt like he was losing something he’d never even had.

It was just those vague feelings pushing him to be firm, to give, and to openly express himself.

Tan Youming was naturally overjoyed, exclaiming how thoughtful Chen Wan was. Shen Zongnian had been busy recently, and he hadn’t been able to go out much. Bowling was at least a healthy physical activity, so the other party shouldn’t have any reason to object.

Tan Youming called up friends, and everyone responded quickly, except for Zhao Shengge.

Zhao Shengge rarely spoke in the group, almost like a fake account.

Until the day before departure, Chen Wan wasn’t sure if Zhao Shengge would join.

He had pre-booked the bowling alley in Heli, and several cars set off from the island at the same time, crossing the Pearl Bridge, quite a sight.

Chen Wan could recognize Zhuo Zhixuan's Cayenne, Tan Youming and Shen Zongnian's Lincoln, Qin Zhaoting's Bentley, but there was one Land Rover he hadn't seen before.

It drove fast and steady, with a straight path and smooth drifts, moving swiftly as if it would drive straight through the Pearl Bridge into the blue sky.

Chen Wan followed closely, hoping for a chance to correct his mistakes.

He didn’t necessarily have to catch up with that Land Rover, but he couldn’t stay stuck in place.

The bowling alley in Heli was newly opened, nestled by the mountains and sea, with a giant bowling pin model at the entrance and floor-to-ceiling windows offering views of the sea and lush green lawns.

It was a membership-based place, not too crowded. Chen Wan didn’t book the entire venue, just reserved some lanes, which showed his attention to detail—the young masters didn’t like too much noise, but they also didn’t like it too quiet. The number of people had to be just right, and it was all about finding the right balance.

Zhao Shengge had been working even while sick in the past few days, so there was still some backlog of work, and he received many calls, making him the last to get out of the car.

Actually, he hadn’t planned to come today, but Tan Youming had called him many times, saying there was something important to discuss.

They even joked that he should hit the gym more, given how out of shape he was.

"..."

Zhao Shengge walked over, nodding to everyone, including Chen Wan, without any special attention.

Jiang Ying, who was standing closest, struck up a casual conversation with him. Chen Wan couldn’t find an opportunity to greet Zhao Shengge and had to go first to arrange things with the gym manager.

When he got to the locker room, it was almost empty. After stashing his stuff and shutting the locker, he noticed Zhao Shengge tidying up his gear.

Chen Wan approached, met his gaze, and said, "Mr. Zhao."

Zhao Shengge was strapping on a wrist guard. He glanced up at Chen Wan’s call and gave a nod.

Not cold, but not exactly warm either.

Chen Wan stepped closer, noticing Zhao Shengge fumbling with the wrist guard, and offered, "Need a hand?"

Zhao Shengge tugged the wrist guard into place. "Nah, I’m good."

Chen Wan stayed put, standing tall, radiating patience and focus.

Zhao Shengge, ever practical, said, "Go ahead if you’re done. I’ll lock up."

Chen Wan shook his head, calm but firm. "It’s fine. I’ll wait."

Before Zhao Shengge could refuse, Chen Wan proactively asked, "Mr. Zhao, has your cold gotten better?"

Zhao Shengge replied indifferently, "It should be better." Though his voice still carried a hint of hoarseness. Chen Wan clenched his hands, sensing Zhao Shengge’s cavalier attitude about his health. After a moment of thought, he asked, "Would you like some honey water?"

The manager came to inform him that only Zhao Shengge hadn’t ordered a drink yet. VIPs had exclusive perks, and the orders would be delivered to the track by staff. Given their status, the manager paid extra attention to every detail, fearing any oversight. He wouldn’t directly speak to the elite clients but communicated through Chen Wan for arrangements.

Zhao Shengge had already packed up his personal belongings and was ready to leave, saying, "I’m good."

Chen Wan followed him out, "It’s not too sweet, you can try it. It’s good for the throat and really soothing."

Zhao Shengge finally looked up at him, his eyes calm and unreadable, but many thoughts flashed through his mind.

What’s going on here?

Neither too close nor driven away.

So bold and doing whatever he wants.

What’s the deal?

The atmosphere was subtle, the tension was palpable, as if nothing had changed, yet something had.

Neither brought up that phone call, and they seemed to greet each other as usual, nodding and exchanging pleasantries, but in reality, they were both aware but confused.

Chen Wan looked at Zhao Shengge very, very seriously, his eyes dark, calm yet containing a kind of genuine determination, openly and calmly accepting Zhao Shengge’s scrutiny.

The friendship rules replaced the crush as the new measure and code of conduct.

Could Chen Wan care about a friend’s illness? Could he wait for a friend to leave together? Could he order a throat-soothing honey water for a sick friend?

If all that’s okay, then why not for Zhao Shengge.

Within the boundaries, Chen Wan wanted to give Zhao Shengge a lot, the most.

If Zhao Shengge didn’t want it, he could throw it away, but Chen Wan still wanted to give.

Zhao Shengge looked at him for a while, feeling that Chen Wan seemed slightly different from before, respectful but not as meek and soft. After shedding that layer of insincere social smile, he revealed some sharp edges in the silent calm.

Zhao Shengge couldn’t describe it specifically.

However, Chen Wan had too many "past offenses" in his eyes and had never been within Zhao Shengge’s comprehension, so he said indifferently, "Sure, whatever, thanks."