Chapter 43 Don’t Change Course

Chapter 43: No Turning Back

Qin Zhaoting raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. Jiang Ying and Zhuo Zhixuan moved to flank him. Jiang Ying immediately reached for the central console, cutting the ignition to prevent further mischief, while Zhuo Zhixuan, with practiced ease, interjected, "What's the plan for later?"

Chen Wan promptly responded, "Dinner at Wanbao Restaurant. I've booked a table."

The group stowed their firearms and headed to the changing room. Tan Youming reappeared in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, his hair disheveled, looking every bit the surly college student.

The web of skin between his right thumb and forefinger throbbed, making him wince. He splashed cold water on his face, and as he straightened up, iodine swabs and a band-aid appeared beside him.

Tan Youming ignored them, shaking off water droplets with an air of defiance as he walked out.

"Do you want an infection that'll land you in the hospital for stitches?" No one was more familiar with the recoil of eighteen off-target shots than Shen Zongnian.

Tan Youming shot him a cold, resentful, and disgusted glare. Shen Zongnian frowned again, perplexed. Even after their arguments, it shouldn't have come to this...

Tan Youming's gaze was almost a snarl: "None of your business."

Shen Zongnian was indifferent to cold wars, broken ties, or tantrums, but he wouldn't compromise on self-harm: "Will you apply it yourself, or should I call someone to help you?"

Tan Youming absolutely loathed Shen Zongnian's self-important, autocratic manner. He stiffened, trying to pull away, but the large hand gripping his wrist held firm.

This was the hand that had taught him to shoot, the hand that had made him lemon tea.

Tan Youming lowered his eyes, his mind uncontrollably wondering if it was this same hand that had played the red king that day—had it tossed the card into the pool or slipped it into a beauty's fragrant sleeve? Had it held hands? What else had it done? Where else had it touched? How could someone so debauched and unrestrained dare to stand here and lecture him so righteously?

He hated his own weakness even more—those eighteen shots, softened by mercy, had chafed his hand raw, making him a laughingstock. Jealousy, wrapped in pride, and betrayal, burning away reason, fueled his rage. Tan Youming violently shoved Shen Zongnian away, flinging the iodine and band-aids into the trash.

"Get lost," he warned, pointing a blood-flecked index finger at the culprit. "Shen Zongnian, don't think for a second I won't shoot."

"Fine," Shen Zongnian called after him. "If it'll calm you down, and you promise not to joke with your own safety anymore, you can shoot me."

Not a single word Tan Youming wanted to hear. "I have nothing to say to you."

Only Zhao Shengge was in the parking lot. Chen Wan hadn't finished yet, having stepped out to take a call. Seeing Shen Zongnian, Zhao Shengge hung up and leaned against his car. "If you're going to be a traitor, go all the way. Make him give up completely."

"There's no such thing as 'all the way'," Shen Zongnian had never considered cutting ties entirely. He simply wanted to return to an ordinary position—he could offer medicine, but he couldn't coax him as before.

But once that overstepping special treatment was withdrawn, Zhao Shengge pointed out, "He won't want anything else from you either."

Shen Zongnian knew, but once he made a decision, he wouldn't change course—even if, in that moment, his legs seemed to act on their own, urging him to chase after Tan Youming.

"He'll get used to it," he told himself.

The worst thing in any endeavor is turning back halfway. Better a sharp pain than a long one. Once Tan Youming's anger subsided, he would slowly adapt to this distance.

In the end, though, he couldn't help but worry and instruct, "Have Chen Wan make sure he applies the medicine." When Tan Youming dug his heels in, Zhuo Zhixuan alone wouldn't be enough to handle him.

Zhao Shengge glanced at him and agreed, "Alright."

Chen Wan and Zhuo Zhixuan emerged from the long corridor, chatting, when they rounded a corner and bumped into a panting figure.

"Youming," Chen Wan observed his pale face, "are you feeling unwell?"

The injury on his hand felt like evidence of his own betrayal. Tan Youming subtly tucked it into the long sleeve of his oversized hoodie and looked up, saying, "No, just hungry from shooting for so long."

Chen Wan comfortingly patted his back. "I've already called. We can eat as soon as we arrive. I have some snacks in my car—I'll get you something to tide you over."

They flanked him, one on each side, even blocking the draft from the hallway. Warm and sheltered, Tan Youming opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

Orchids and pothos lined both sides of the corridor, and island sunlight streamed down from the courtyard.

Jiang Ying and Qin Zhaoting were likely waiting for them, chatting by the exit about the recent crazy tariffs and exchange rates. Just beyond them stood Zhao Shengge and Shen Zongnian beside their cars.

It was like a long scroll painting, the corridor sliced by light and shadow, nearing its end. Tan Youming finally spoke: "I..."

Chen Wan and Zhuo Zhixuan both turned to look at him.

Tan Youming said without changing expression, "I left my watch in the locker room. You guys go ahead."

Zhuo Zhixuan chased after him a couple of steps. "I'll go with you."

Tan Youming turned to stop him. "No need. I'll be quick."

The locker room door was ajar. Tan Youming strode in, carefully locked it, and crouched in front of the trash can, lifting the lid.

The cleaners hadn't changed the bag yet. Amid the messy scraps, the iodine and band-aids stood out conspicuously.

Qin Zhaoting, seeing only Chen Wan and Zhuo Zhixuan, asked, "Where's the young master?"

Zhuo Zhixuan said, "He went back to find his watch."

The group didn't leave ahead but waited in the corridor, chatting. Before long, Tan Youming arrived belatedly. Zhuo Zhixuan asked, "Did you find it?"

"Yeah."

Jiang Ying said, "Let's go then."

Zhao Shengge and Shen Zongnian, seeing the group emerge, ended their conversation. A row of luxury cars with prestigious license plates stood side by side, each heading to their own vehicle.

Shen Zongnian's brow was furrowed. Zhao Shengge glanced at him.

Sharp-eyed and attentive, Chen Wan walked up to Tan Youming. "Want to ride in my car?"

Tan Youming had kept his hands in his pockets. Whether he was injured or not, Chen Wan didn't know, but a hand that had fired eighteen off-course shots wasn't fit to grip a steering wheel.

Tan Youming was about to decline when Chen Wan smiled first. "Weren't you asking me about the Cullinan last time? Perfect chance for you to experience it firsthand today."

Tan Youming hesitated.

Aside from the Cayenne he used for official business, all his sedans, SUVs, and supercars were stored in Shen Zongnian's garage.

Not the parking lot at No. 15 Zuoshideng Road, but a dedicated garage on Yinghuang Avenue, regularly maintained by specialists. How many cars were there exactly? Tan Youming himself wasn't sure. Whenever he took a liking to something, Shen Zongnian always found a way to get it for him. But Tan Youming couldn't be bothered with the hassle of inspections and maintenance, so they were all registered under Shen Zongnian's name.

Lately, he'd been considering buying a separate car, one that was truly his own.

Chen Wan really didn't trust him driving alone. "We can have the manager arrange for someone to drive your car back later."

Zhao Shengge, holding no grudge over his earlier "betrayal," directly opened the rear door.

Tan Youming, obliging, stepped in and took a seat.

Zhao Shengge got into the driver's seat. Tan Youming remarked, "So you're the one driving?"

Zhao Shengge raised an eyebrow. "I drive every day."

"How impressive," Tan Youming rolled his eyes at him. As if he didn't have a personal driver too.

Oh, he doesn't have one now.

From Holland Avenue to Wanbao Lou, it was an hour's drive. Tan Youming was in a so-so mood, quieter than usual, leaning back in his seat with his eyes lightly closed. Chen Wan turned down the car radio volume and switched to the golden hits station.

The Cullinan pulled over by the roadside.

"What's wrong?" Tan Youming drowsily opened his eyes and spotted a convenience store.

Chen Wan turned around: "I grazed my hand just now, gonna buy some bandages to deal with it. Do you want some?"

Tan Youming was more responsive to softness than force and wouldn't deliberately harm himself. Feeling the iodine swabs in his pocket, he nodded.

Chen Wan came back and went straight to the back seat to tend to Tan Youming's wounds.

Winning at a great cost—eighteen counterattacks didn't beat Shen Zongnian, and Tan Youming himself was left battered and bruised all over.

Chen Wan sighed quietly. It must have hurt a lot; he tried to keep the disinfection and bandaging as gentle as possible.

Tan Youming didn't feel much, craning his neck to look at the items in the bag: "What's this?"

"Some snacks, have some to tide you over."

Tan Youming glanced at the car fridge: "There's stuff in here, isn't there?"

Chen Wan deftly finished dressing the wound: "You might not like those." They were prepared by Zhao Shengge according to his taste. Half the journey had passed, and Tan Youming hadn't touched them, meaning he didn't like them.

Tan Youming fell silent for a moment, then curled his hand and bumped fists with Chen Wan, saying quietly: "Thanks, Captain."

Chen Wan took a moment to process before smiling: "Yeah, next time we'll turn the tables."

Tan Youming didn't respond.

He wouldn't be playing this game again.

Chen Wan, worried his hand might be uncomfortable, fetched a cushion for him to rest it on. Tan Youming fiddled with the tassels and fuzz, then glanced at the car seat leather and trim: "Is this the original configuration? The model's pretty comfortable."

"Yes," Chen Wan had compared several models before settling on this Cullinan, "but I've made some modifications later myself, so it's kinda semi-custom."

He showed Tan Youming the pull-out desk setup and massage seating, specially installed because Zhao Shengge noticed he liked working in the car.

Tan Youming felt a twinge of envy.

"No need to envy," Zhao Shengge, who had been quiet until now, said lazily, "there's one parked in your underground garage."

Tan Youming was stunned.

Clearly, the car owner had no idea. When this model was first released, Shen Zongnian was among the first to buy it, registered under Tan Youming's name, and even had the office features installed. But back then, Tan Youming was obsessed with supercars, and the idea of working in a car seemed absurd, so it was left forgotten in the garage.

When Zhao Shengge was setting up Chen Wan's office features, he had even consulted Shen Zongnian.

Tan Youming had always hated how Zhao Shengge and Shen Zongnian were in cahoots since childhood, and said coldly: "But it's not my garage."

"Okay." Zhao Shengge nodded amiably and didn't say more.

The cars pulled up one after another at the entrance of Wanbao Lou. Hotel valets came to take over parking, and the manager was already waiting at the door.

They walked through the lobby, down a long corridor with soft, thick patterned carpets, feeling like treading on clouds.

Tan Youming and Chen Wan were familiar with the manager and walked ahead, listening to his small talk and dish introductions.

Zhao Shengge and Shen Zongnian followed silently behind them.

Qin Zhaoting and Jiang Ying brought up the rear, teasing Zhuo Zhixuan about when his hotel would start limiting guests like Wanbao Lou, serving only five tables each night.

Zhuo Zhixuan didn't feel like saying a word.

Wanbao Lou was an old-school high-end restaurant, with elegant and classic private rooms. Shen Zongnian sat next to Zhao Shengge, while Tan Youming went straight to sit between Chen Wan and Zhuo Zhixuan.

Zhao Shengge and Shen Zongnian were always the quiet types, listening more than speaking. Luckily, the others were talkative, and Tan Youming didn't want to make things awkward for their mutual friends, so the atmosphere stayed lively and harmonious.

The executive chef came with staff to serve dishes. While the others discussed finance, stock prices, and policy trends, Zhuo Zhixuan tried the razor clams and catfish, murmuring: "They're already serving summer specialties."

Being in the hotel industry, he could tell seasonal freshness.

Jiang Ying glanced over and asked: "So when's your hotel planning to roll them out?"

"Just finalized the new menu the other day." Zhuo Zhixuan sampled another dish, crispy squab. Chen Wan had even spared an evening to help him taste-test, adding and removing featured items.

Zhuo Zhixuan sighed: "But still need to coordinate with suppliers."

Chen Wan waited until Zhao Shengge finished a bowl of clam soup before saying: "Then you should push it faster. Diners love trying what's new—they also love being the 'first'."

Everyone wants to be the first to try something.

Tan Youming, being the top expert in dining and entertainment in Haishi, knew the tricks of the trade: "Wanbao Lou always aims to be the first to innovate each year. Whatever's in season, they set the trend."

"True," Qin Zhaoting, who couldn't match these rich guys in indulgence—he was more of a market watcher—said, "but in your industry, the one with the sharpest rise and highest trading volume isn't them yet."

Zhuo Zhixuan took the bait immediately: "Who then?"

Qin Zhaoting set down his wine glass, wiping his hands with a hot towel: "Hengtai."

The table fell quiet. Behind Hengtai was the Wang family.

Qin Zhaoting had been abroad recently and missed the tabloid stories about Miss Wang and Tan Youming. He continued bluntly: "First the Sailboat Hotel, then immediately a collaboration with the art gallery, followed by consolidating coastal accommodation resources."

He'd been in investment banking since before graduation, moving from VP to director: "Just ask the analysts, managers, and VPs in Finance Street Tower—who isn't afraid of Wang Er?"

Glasses clinked, but he was the only one talking freely. Qin Zhaoting found it odd: "What, none of you know her?"

Jiang Ying opened his mouth to reach for his wine glass, Zhuo Zhixuan unsure how to respond and just took a bite of food. Chen Wan would've chimed in, but this time he really wasn't familiar. Everyone was busy. Tan Youming stated firmly: "I know her."

Recalling their encounter on Finance Street that day, it all made sense now.

Through M&A to absorb and unite more industry players, Tan Youming agreed with Qin Zhaoting's assessment: "Probably more hybrid mergers and acquisitions in the second half of the year."

Zhao Shengge glanced at Shen Zongnian and asked Tan Youming: "You know that much?"

Tan Youming was as annoyed with him as with Shen Zongnian now, forcing a smile: "Of course, when looking for partners, you've gotta keep your eyes sharp."

He had a sharp tongue: "Find someone trustworthy, someone with principles. Otherwise, what if they bail halfway?"

Shen Zongnian looked up at him, but Tan Youming only offered a beautiful profile. Shen Zongnian's hand tightened; he stayed silent, accepting the blame.

Zhao Shengge added: "Is Pinghai collaborating with her?"

Tan Youming didn't hold back: "She's definitely more reliable than many."

"Is that so?" Zhao Shengge wasn't familiar with her since she'd just returned from abroad. He asked Shen Zongnian: "Do you know her?"

Shen Zongnian watched Tan Youming calmly and admitted, "Yes." Wang Simin was indeed a more suitable partner for Tan Youming than he was.

Tan Youming got even madder: "Besides her, tons of people want to cooperate with Pinghai. Pinghai's never short on partners."

Tan Youming didn't either.

"In business, you know, out with the old, in with the new. Pinghai won't fall apart without any one person."

Zhuo Zhixuan didn't want to talk anymore. Seeing him lower his head, Tan Youming said, "Next week, they're hosting a promotional open house for the Heart-of-Sugar Harbor project in Kowloon. Would you be interested in going?"

Pinghai's strategic focus was on the "cultural tourism" sector, and when it came to hotels and dining, Wang Simin was the real expert.

Zhuo Zhixuan immediately replied, "I'll go."

"Ah Xuan is so driven," Qin Zhaoting teased him, noting how even during leisure outings he sought to expand his business horizons. "Build it up big, and Rongfeng will help you with your IPO."

Remembering there was also a genuine big client present, Qin Zhaoting congratulated the actual client, Shen Zongnian: "Oh, and Huantu's stock lines have been quite stable too. Especially with the supportive policies being rolled out and the news of you personally heading up the expansion into Northern Europe—everything's riding high. You can rest assured."

Shen Zongnian: "..."

Tan Youming didn't want to hear any of it. The fish, shrimp, and crab he had for dinner seemed to come alive, doing somersaults in his guts. It was utterly irritating, but he refused to lose his composure in front of others, especially Shen Zongnian—as if he couldn't survive without him—so he forced himself to appear unbothered.

Zhuo Zhixuan, afraid Tan Youming might explode, quickly turned the lazy Susan to place dishes in front of Qin Zhaoting, trying to shut him up: "Just eat. You're the only one who knows how to make money, can't even leave the smell of profit behind when we're out having fun."

Qin Zhaoting smirked slightly but said nothing.

Everyone present was shrewd. Qin Zhaoting wasn't oblivious to the tension between Tan Youming and Shen Zongnian, though he didn't know the specifics. He didn't take it seriously—since childhood, those two had been at each other's throats one moment and fine the next. He'd seen their quarrels and reconciliations too many times to believe they could really break up for good.

It wasn't just Tan Youming who enjoyed watching drama—he liked watching it too.