Chapter 20 The Fifth Day of Lunar New Year

Chapter 20: The Fifth Day of the Lunar New Year

After two days of feasting, drinking, and playfully pestering Shen Zongnian, Tan Youming was fully revitalized. On the fifth day of the Lunar New Year, he hosted a banquet at Shen Zongnian’s casino-hotel, welcoming guests and the God of Wealth.

Lion dances, incense offerings, and firecracker paper carpeted Governor’s Street from end to end.

“Ah Wan,” Xu Zhiying tossed an Ace of Clubs into the pot, genuinely suggesting, “Why don’t you just complete the flush for Zhao Shengge?”

Chen Wan gave a slight cough. Zhao Shengge, head bowed, studying his cards, allowed a faint, fleeting smile to play on his lips. He said courteously, “After this hand, I’ll let someone else take over.”

Tan Youming looked up, displeased. “You win money and then just leave?”

Where’s the sportsmanship, the poker ethics?

Zhao Shengge turned to him, his gaze mild and polite. “It’s harder for you to win when I’m here.”

“…”

Zhao Shengge had just returned from his ancestral home the day before, having distributed red packets to the younger generation. After a moment’s thought, he pushed a few chips towards Tan Youming, advising him with brotherly concern, “Play carefully. Hold out until Shen Zongnian finishes his call.”

Tan Youming ran his tongue over his teeth.

Zhao Shengge paid him no further attention. He rose, took his jacket from the back of the chair, draped it over his arm, and circled halfway around the card table to sit beside Chen Wan, observing the game.

Chen Wan reached out, pulling him closer, and whispered, “Do you want to go back?”

He worried Zhao Shengge might be bored, zoning out or getting sleepy.

Zhao Shengge slowly shook his head, understandingly saying, “No rush. Play a few more rounds.”

Chen Wan hadn’t left the house for days, having stayed in Zhao Shengge’s bed. Today was a rare outing, and Zhao Shengge wanted him to enjoy himself thoroughly.

He didn’t lean back in the chair but propped his chin on one hand, watching Chen Wan play his cards. Their knees touched, and occasionally, he’d glance down to reply to a work message.

In the next round, Xu Enyi filled in. She had returned from Northern Europe for the New Year, having met Xu Zhiying, who was on vacation, at the airport, and they traveled back together. Tan Youming was also her former German classmate, so she joined them today.

They had all known each other since childhood. Whether their relationships were good was secondary; in this circle, interests often outweighed friendships.

However, with Chen Wan’s arrival, their subtle dynamics had shifted somewhat.

Tan Youming asked Xu Zhiying, “Are you really staying here tonight?”

“Ah,” Xu Zhiying replied, her eyes fixed on her cards. “My family is driving me crazy. I’m hiding for some peace and quiet.”

“Then I’ll have someone prepare a room for you. The key card will be brought up later.” Although the casino hadn’t officially opened, Tan Youming was always generous and thoughtful towards his friends. “The hot springs, swimming pool, and kitchen are all available, with staff on call 24/7. If you need anything, just ask the butler. If you want to go out, the driver will take you. It’s too chaotic outside during the New Year.”

Xu Zhiying thanked him, praising, “Now I understand how Mr. Tan earned his reputation in the world.”

He truly deserved his title as the “Most Popular Eligible Bachelor” in Hong Kong media polls.

Xu Enyi burst into laughter. “You have no idea. When we took German classes, half the girls in the class had a crush on Ming.”

Tan Youming took the teasing good-naturedly.

Xu Enyi drew a card and asked Xu Zhiying, “How dare anyone try to control you? Haven’t they seen what happened to your eldest and second brothers?” As the sole daughter of an oil tycoon, she had never experienced the power struggles Xu Zhiying endured.

Xu Zhiying was unbothered. “There’s a family trust fund to claim if I get married.”

“Well, money is money, so why not take it? Look,” Xu Enyi pointed at Tan Youming. “Here’s a perfect candidate.”

Tan Youming nodded, a cigarette dangling from his lips—a gift from someone else, but unlit in the presence of ladies. He said cheerfully, “For friendship’s sake, I can offer a special rate.”

Xu Zhiying also smiled. “How could I ever manage Mr. Tan? If I were to choose, I’d pick Ah Xuan.”

“…” Zhuo Zhixuan, passing by, raised his hands in surrender. “Ladies, please don’t tease me.”

Chen Wan found it amusing. Xu Enyi played a little joker, trumping his King of Clubs, and then told Tan Youming that Caroline was returning.

“Who?”

“Fang Shiying,” Xu Enyi said, exasperated by his forgetfulness. “You don’t remember her either? Who exactly does this Haishi socialite remember?”

Xu Enyi reminded him, “She was in our group for the end-of-course play, playing your queen.”

“Her father squandered the family fortune before she finished school. She entered the Miss Island Beauty Pageant to debut. I heard you helped her escape from a producer at an event, and later you provided her with many opportunities.”

Tan Youming finally had a vague recollection.

Xu Enyi knew he was generous and never kept track of the help he offered others. Yet, he didn’t realize how much his casual kindness meant to someone’s life, or who might remember it for a very long time.

“Caroline has transitioned to behind-the-scenes work now. Last year, she won the Golden Palm Award for Best Anthology Drama Director.”

A look of admiration appeared on Tan Youming’s face. “So impressive.”

“Yes, she’s very driven. This year, she’s making a triumphant return and said she wants to contact you first. But she doesn’t have your contact. I’ll push it to you. Also, shouldn’t our small German class have a reunion?”

Xu Enyi didn’t know that fifteen-year-old Tan Youming never wanted to learn any stupid German. He only gritted his teeth and enrolled because he secretly found out that Shen Zongnian had been exiled to some corner of the German-speaking area in Northern Europe.

However, during the year Shen Zongnian was away, the female students—making up two-thirds of the class—provided much warmth and comfort to Tan Youming, who had suddenly lost his closest friend. Thus, he still felt some affection for the German class.

“Sure, push her contact to me.” Tan Youming looked around, spotting Shen Zongnian talking to Jiang Ying.

He waved lazily. “Shen Zongnian.”

Shen Zongnian approached. Tan Youming reached for his pockets. “Your phone.”

Not finding it in his pockets, he rummaged impatiently, urging, “Hurry, the Golden Palm Award-winning director is waiting to add me.” He was genuinely happy for his old classmate’s hard-earned success, his tone filled with pride.

Shen Zongnian looked down at him, reached into his own pocket, grabbed Tan Youming’s wrist, pulled it out, and released it. “Use your own phone to add her.”

“?” His phone was charging.

Shen Zongnian said, “I’ll have someone bring it to you,” then turned to answer a call.

“Hey—” Tan Youming called out, but Shen Zongnian was already walking away. He turned back to the table, where three pairs of eyes watched him. Tan Youming wasn’t annoyed. He shrugged and smiled, saving face. “That’s just how he is.”

Xu Enyi raised an eyebrow. Xu Zhiying smiled without a word. Chen Wan touched the tip of his nose. No one spoke, and they wordlessly began a new round of card-playing.

Only Zhao Shengge cast a sidelong glance at Shen Zongnian.

He had said it before.

“You treat him like a bodhisattva, but a bodhisattva won’t save only one person.”

“He saved you, but you won’t allow him to save others. Shen Zongnian, that’s not how it works.”

Back then, Shen Zongnian pretended not to hear. Now, Shen Zongnian pretended not to see.

When Chen Wan’s cards were taken by Xu Enyi for the second time, Zhao Shengge let out a very soft chuckle.

Chen Wan’s back stiffened slightly. After a moment, he gently nudged Zhao Shengge with his knee.

Zhao Shengge placed a hand on his back, as if pressing a piano key, and said he was going to the terrace for a smoke.

Chen Wan nodded, then held his arm, draping a coat over his shoulders before saying, “Go ahead.”

“…”

During the tea break, Tan Youming went to mingle with other friends. Passing by the front desk, he greeted a few female dealers: “Don’t be so tense. It’s the New Year—there aren’t that many rules.”

“Did you get the red packets?” He wore his coat casually, exuding a mix of approachability and nonchalance. A few of the foreign dealers, feeling bolder, replied, “Yes, Mr. Tan is so generous. May you make a fortune this year too.” Though the hotel was owned by the Shen family, everyone from the manager to the dealers was more familiar with Tan Youming.

“Alright,” Tan Youming, in high spirits, grinned lazily, “I’ll take your good wishes.”

In the distance, the sky lit up with a brilliant display. During the Spring Festival, Victoria Harbour set off fireworks every night. The flickering lights cast shifting shadows across Shen Zongnian’s expressionless face.

Someone approached. He hung up the phone and glanced at the coat loosely draped over the other person—Zhao Shengge never wore clothes like that. It was obvious who had put it on him.

Shen Zongnian scoffed, “What, pretending for so long that you’ve actually become delicate?”

Zhao Shengge ignored his sarcasm, flicked out a cigarette, and placed it between his lips, replying irrelevantly, “You just can’t bring yourself to be ruthless.”

Shen Zongnian didn’t smoke. Leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, he nodded, “Oh, so I’m the one forcing him?”

Zhao Shengge showed no shame, tilting his chin up slightly, “So what?”

Shen Zongnian rested his hands on the railing, gazing beyond the mountains, “He’s not like that; why force him?”

“Then make him—”

“Zhao Shengge,” Shen Zongnian interrupted. Just then, a shower of sparkling fireworks lit up the sky, illuminating his grim face. “I often think, if neither you nor I have it, at least one of us in this group should.”

With that, Zhao Shengge fell silent.

Tan Youming was nothing like Zhao Shengge or Shen Zongnian.

Shen Zongnian came to the Tan family when he was twelve.

He was the heir named in Old Master Shen’s will. Faced with immense temptations of wealth, familial bonds meant nothing—fathers were no longer fathers, brothers no longer brothers. To alter the will, the young Shen Zongnian endured false accusations from his cousins, assassination attempts by his uncles, and even kidnapping threats from his own parents.

In his final days, Old Master Shen, knowing he could no longer protect his grandson, entrusted the boy to his old friend Old Master Tan, asking the Tan family to safeguard Shen Zongnian until adulthood. In return, he promised the Tan family substantial benefits—this was why the Shen and Tan family fortunes later became almost inseparable.

From the day Shen Zongnian arrived, Tan Guanzhi treated him as her own.

Tan Chongshan, cheerful and fond of children, taught him shooting, combat, and social maneuvering.

Guan Kezhi, spirited and quick-tempered, would chase her son around while applying makeup, but the scarves she knitted and the tangyuan she made for Tan Youming were always shared with Shen Zongnian—even if they were ugly and tasted awful.

Old Master Tan, kind and patient, personally taught Shen Zongnian poetry, literature, and calligraphy, since Tan Youming refused to sit still for even a minute.

Even Zhao Shengge, invited by Tan Youming to play at their home, once received a handmade paper cutting from Mrs. Tan.

“Shengge is so handsome—I’ll cut a big tiger for you.”

But when he returned home, Zhao Maozheng tore it up. The young Zhao Shengge felt deeply guilty and never visited the Tan home again.

As he stared into the trash, he wondered: if Bozhu had been found by Tan Youming, would his fate have been entirely different?

Of course, it would have.

The Tan family was like a vast sanctuary. They had taken in the homeless Shen Zongnian, the childhood-deprived Zhao Shengge, the overlooked Zhuo Zhixuan—naturally, they could also shelter an injured puppy.

Such a family was unique in their circles, and only such a family could raise someone like Tan Youming.

Shen Zongnian and Zhao Shengge had thin familial bonds, cared little for anything, and long ago abandoned conscience and morality—they could do as they pleased.

But others were not like that.

In the moist sea breeze, already carrying the scent of reviving plants, Zhao Shengge said, “Spring is coming, and it’ll be Old Master’s birthday.” This year, the Tan family had lost several members. To consolidate their foundation, Tan Youming’s marriage would inevitably be put on the agenda.

Shen Zongnian never really needed reminders from others.

The Victoria Harbour fireworks ended at eleven.

As the gathering concluded, Tan Youming got into the passenger seat of the Bentley and picked up Shen Zongnian’s phone. The battery was low. As he straightened up slightly, Shen Zongnian pressed a button on the console, opening a drawer to reveal a charging cable.

Tan Youming would rather wait for the phone to charge than fetch his own—it had become a deeply ingrained habit.

For a long time after Shen Zongnian was sent to the Tan family, he continued to face harassment from his clan—threatening calls, intimidating messages, coercion, and bribes. Shen Zongnian ignored them all, but Tan Youming couldn’t stand it and checked his phone daily.

“Damn, you’re just letting them go crazy?!”

The word “endurance” didn’t exist in the troublemaker’s dictionary.

If a Shen family member threatened once, Tan Youming would curse back ten times.

If they called once, he’d directly buy a blacklist service to cancel their number.

The first time Shen Zongnian truly looked at Tan Youming was when the latter, baring his canine teeth, responded to a call from Shen Zongnian’s uncle with a seamless mix of Mandarin, Cantonese, English, and profanities.

“…”

If the call was taken at home, Guan Kezhi would even criticize her son for not cursing creatively enough and would enthusiastically offer more cunning and arrogant dialect phrases.

Old Master Tan watched with encouragement, while Tan Chongshan seemed on the verge of saying something but held back.

From then on, Tan Youming’s habit of monopolizing Shen Zongnian’s phone was tacitly approved by the Tan family. Later, if family members wanted to reach Tan Youming, they’d directly call Shen Zongnian’s number. Eventually, friends did the same.

As the Bentley drove along Victoria Harbour, Tan Youming rolled down the window slightly and told Shen Zongnian something he’d heard from a friend that evening.

“They said someone might have seen Xie Zhenlin’s mother at Renji Hospital.”

His tone was uncharacteristically somber. Back when their school organized spring outings, they’d all enjoyed the Mango Pomelo Sago made by Mrs. Xie.

“Not sure if it’s true.”

Renji was a private hospital. Since it was still the Spring Festival, visits were prohibited, and the media was barred. In Haishi, this was taboo, especially among businesspeople.

“I can’t reach him either. He didn’t even reply to my New Year’s greeting on the first day.”

“His family never approved of his relationship with that male model.”

From their university days until now, many years had passed. Even when their friend sought help, Tan Youming offered generous support, but he knew deep down it was hopeless.

In families like theirs.

“Xie Ruiguo flew into a rage and vowed to purge the ranks, refusing to let Xie Zhenlin come home even for the New Year. His aunt was so heartbroken she ended up in the hospital.”

Tan Youming, a sentimental guy and loyal with strong family values, sighed casually, “Does it have to be that person?”

He never doubted his friend’s unwavering devotion, but having never been in love himself, he found it hard to truly empathize.

Especially upon hearing that the other was anxiously waiting outside the hospital yet unable to visit, he couldn’t bear it and sighed, “I hope he doesn’t regret it.”

But these were all just rumors—no one knew what was true or false, and outsiders had no right to comment.

Oncoming headlights flashed, illuminating his face that was both passionate and detached, cruel in its way of playing the field without getting attached.

Shen Zongnian gripped the steering wheel without responding, yet Tan Youming chattered on effortlessly, already accustomed to it. Then he shifted to business.

“I noticed Xinyue was selling at a low point, so I used your account to buy at the bottom,” he said as the river wind rushed in, tousling his hair and giving his face a mischievous, almost devil-may-care look. “We’ve put up with them long enough. Let’s make it quick this time—no need to leave them with any pieces behind.”

Shen Zongnian didn’t scold him. In business, it was always Shen Zongnian playing the tough role and Tan Youming the kind one—he was a pro at using Shen Zongnian to do his dirty work.

His phone battery had recovered to forty percent and vibrated twice. Tan Youming remarked, “Wow, the Big Director replied to me.”