Chapter Seventeen: Truly Damnable

The cool breeze flowed gently, and every so often a street lamp cast its light, mingling brightness and shadow. This path was the boardwalk leading to the villa. Tang Zhi Chu walked with his hands in his pockets, while Chen Si Yang swung her arms leisurely. This date felt far more relaxed to Chen Si Yang than any before.

"This stretch of road reminds me of one back in my hometown," Chen Si Yang said, breaking the brief silence.

Tang Zhi Chu didn’t respond directly, but instead asked, "So, did you have a good time today?"

"I suppose I did," she replied.

"What do you mean, 'suppose'? That sounds like you were hurt."

"Then what do you think? Did I enjoy myself?" Chen Si Yang turned to look at him.

Tang Zhi Chu nodded, "Of course you did. You smiled a lot, at least."

"I think so too. Which means, you do have quite a bit of charm. You should talk more, chat more often. When you’re lying in the ground someday, you won’t even be able to speak anymore," Chen Si Yang laughed.

Tang Zhi Chu responded, "Well, thank you very much."

Imitating him, Chen Si Yang nudged him with her elbow and then, grinning, trotted toward the villa. At the door, she noticed Tang Zhi Chu hadn’t caught up and turned to wait for him.

"Hurry up, Old Tang!"

"Old Tang?"

"Yes, you talk so little and move so slowly. If you’re not old, who is?"

"Better than some people who mope around all day."

"Who’s mopey?" Chen Si Yang glared.

Tang Zhi Chu came closer and snatched the fisherman’s hat off her head, then placed it on his own. With his head lowered, passersby could only see his nose. He then tilted his head and looked at Chen Si Yang through his nostrils. "How’s this look? Do I seem tragic and embittered?"

Chen Si Yang burst out laughing, punched him lightly, and said, "That’s cool for me, but for you, it’s a sign of madness."

"We’re the same. If I’m crazy, you must be too."

"Nonsense, it’s just you!"

They bantered for a while, then pushed open the door.

After changing shoes and stepping inside, they were met with four pairs of bizarrely intense eyes.

Everyone was in the living room, gathered around to look at photos taken by Huang Ze Jun. They had all heard the playful noise between Tang Zhi Chu and Chen Si Yang outside.

From the perspective of the others, Tang Zhi Chu and Chen Si Yang’s interaction was, frankly, strange.

Without her hat, Chen Si Yang’s beauty shone even brighter—she truly embodied fair skin and lovely features, now with a touch of warmth and vitality.

But her hat was now on Tang Zhi Chu’s head.

"You… you’re all back. Good evening. I’ll just go upstairs first," Chen Si Yang sensed something was off and hurried up, pausing at the stairs to shoot Tang Zhi Chu a glare.

Tang Zhi Chu shrugged, unfazed.

What, am I not worthy to pursue a goddess?

Four pairs of eyes followed Chen Si Yang upstairs, and once she was gone, they all turned to Tang Zhi Chu.

They’d all noticed the change in Chen Si Yang—she wasn’t as distant as before, showing a liveliness befitting her age.

"Where did you go?" Yang Jia Xing asked, expressionless.

Tang Zhi Chu poured himself a glass of water and replied casually, "Just went to see a movie."

Yang Jia Xing: "???"

Just a movie?

Could a movie change Chen Si Yang’s demeanor so drastically?

And somehow her hat ended up on your head?

Their gazes grew stranger.

Tang Zhi Chu was never much of a talker, not one for jokes. If he said he saw a movie, he probably just saw a movie.

It fit his personality—he obviously wasn’t someone who knew how to please girls.

But the result was remarkable.

Yang Jia Xing rubbed his temples, feeling a bit stifled.

Huang Ze Jun felt he’d overlooked something. Suddenly, a realization struck him and he looked at Tang Zhi Chu in disbelief.

Tang Zhi Chu received text messages every day—who sent them? Huang Ze Jun used to think it was Zhou Yun, since Zhou Yun was friendly to everyone, but at crucial moments, Zhou Yun always chose Yang Jia Xing.

So, was it possible that the texts Tang Zhi Chu received were always from Chen Si Yang?

With this thought, Huang Ze Jun suddenly understood.

That explained why Tang Zhi Chu had stepped forward yesterday when everyone wanted Chen Si Yang to sing.

Huang Ze Jun felt Tang Zhi Chu was unexpectedly unfathomable—only this could explain Chen Si Yang’s transformation.

Watching a movie was cliché, but if both parties were genuinely interested, it became novel.

"Sixth Brother..." Huang Ze Jun muttered inwardly, shocked and a little upset, wondering why it had to be him.

"You saw a movie? Good grief, you were out until ten thirty?" Huang Ze Jun interjected.

Yang Jia Xing glanced at Tang Zhi Chu, deep in thought.

Zhou Yun seemed contemplative, saying nothing.

Jiang Lan, after her initial surprise, now looked thoroughly intrigued—a movie star and a small restaurant owner? How fascinating!

Late at night, in the men's dormitory.

Yang Jia Xing and Huang Ze Jun lay awake, both suffering from insomnia.

Huang Ze Jun felt his chances with Chen Si Yang had diminished, so his gaze drifted to Jiang Lan, though his heart remained unsettled.

If he lost to Yang Jia Xing, his longtime rival, he could accept it.

But to be outpaced by Tang Zhi Chu, who spoke little and seemed somewhat self-effacing, was hard to swallow.

"Hey, are you asleep?" Huang Ze Jun asked Yang Jia Xing.

Yang Jia Xing was annoyed, replying gruffly, "I’m asleep."

"Hey, what do you think of Jiang Lan?"

Had he been asked earlier tonight, Yang Jia Xing would have been interested. Now, though, he found it meaningless and replied perfunctorily, "She’s great—beautiful and a strong woman."

"I agree. Today we exchanged texts."

"Oh, congratulations."

After a moment of silence, Yang Jia Xing suddenly sat up. Wait—Jun and Lan exchanged texts?

He felt uneasy, not as much as Huang Ze Jun, but the reminder made it clear.

So Lan always sent her texts to Jun?

He hadn’t been sure before, but earlier tonight Zhou Yun said all her texts went to herself.

Which meant Chen Si Yang had always texted Tang Zhi Chu?

Damn! This guy is infuriating!

Seeing Yang Jia Xing rub his temples again, Huang Ze Jun finally felt a bit relieved.

Sleep, sleep.

The next morning, Tang Zhi Chu left at half past eight.

He received a message from Wang Jun: today, Auntie’s family would be visiting.

As the only son of Tang Lao Er’s branch, Tang Zhi Chu had to host them.

He took a cab to the restaurant.

The establishment had two floors, with a sign reading "Tang’s Sichuan Cuisine."

After Tang Lao Er fell ill, Wang Jun managed the kitchen.

There weren’t many staff—four people including Wang Jun, with one recently added.

Tang Zhi Chu arrived just as Wang Jun was stepping out of a van.

"Early today?" Wang Jun greeted him.

"Jun, why are you still opening up?" Tang Zhi Chu asked.

He hadn’t told Wang Jun he was coming, wanting to see firsthand the restaurant Tang Lao Er had built.

Wang Jun opened the van’s trunk as he spoke, "I thought I’d cook some pigeon soup for Second Brother, deliver it at noon, and pick up some rare ingredients from the market while I was at it."

By rare ingredients, Wang Jun meant expensive items like beef ribs—market deliveries could be unreliable in quality.

Tang Zhi Chu nodded and helped Wang Jun carry the supplies.