Chapter Text
The next day finds Shen Qiao pacing in front of his younger sister’s bedroom. Maybe pacing’s not the right word; he’s just waiting until she comes back from school and, well, he doesn’t want to wait in his room, doing something from the long, long list of things he has to do. Important things. Certainly, more important than getting all worked up because of…
“Gege? What are you doing pacing in front of my door?”
Shen Qiao does not jump. He does not release an almost inaudible squeal.
“Hengbo, you scared me. I was just… I was not pacing, I was…,” he sighs, rubbing his face with one hand while he composes himself. “Do you have time? It’s okay if you don’t.”
She looks at him with an unreadable expression for a moment, as if studying him, then takes a step forward and opens the door.
“Okay.” she says, almost warily, and makes a signal for Shen Qiao to follow her as she enters the room.
The walls of Gu Hengbo’s room are painted light blue and are covered in prints of varying types and sizes. On a corner, next to the huge window, there’s a desk with scattered papers, notebooks, and various stationary objects. Next to the desk there’s a beautiful, white wooden bookcase filled with rows and rows of books with colorful spines that instantly catch Shen Qiao’s attention and make him realize something he had never though about before: he has no idea what books his sister likes to read.
It’s quite a simple, unimportant thought, but it hits him square in the chest, leaving him momentarily confounded.
“So…”, begins Hengbo, who has taken a seat cross-legged on the bed, and is still staring at him strangely, “did you want to talk about something?”
Shen Qiao shakes his head, forcing his mind to come back to the present, and grabs the chair from the desk, lifting it so it doesn’t drag through the carpet, and places it in front of the bed.
“I… I need your help.”
“My help,” she repeats, sounding incredulous. “You need my help.”
“I don’t want to trouble you, it’s not that important, you surely have more important things to do, I shouldn’t have assumed…” Shen Qiao stands up slowly, ready to leave the room and pretend this never happened, but his sister’s hand is suddenly gripping his wrist and, when he looks down, he sees that she has almost toppled over while trying to catch him.
“No, no, gege, don’t go. I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise. Please, sit down.” She offers him a soft smile and gives one small tug at his wrist, then releases him and settles back on the bed. “What can I help you with?”
“Uh… I…”, Shen Qiao sits back down and takes a deep breath. “I need you to help me find something to wear for… for dinner. With someone. I’m having dinner with someone and I don’t know… what to wear.”
Well, that was definitely not his best articulated sentence. In truth, it was probably the worst. Gu Hengbo, thought, is nice enough not to mention it.
“Are you going out with Chiyin and Bai Rong?” She asks instead.
Shen Qiao shakes his head.
“No. I’m having dinner with… someone I met at a party. A man. A man I met at a party.” There’s another wonderfully articulated sentence. Beautiful, Shen Qiao, first, Yan Wushi gets into your head without permission, and now he’s making you forget how to talk properly.
His sister just stares at him blankly for a moment, her delicate brow slightly frowned, lips pursed as in extreme concentration.
“You’re telling me…that you have a date? With a man you met at a party? I didn’t… I thought… I didn’t even know you went to parties!”
“I don’t.” Shen Qiao clarifies. “I went to one last weekend and… there was this man who… who…” He sighs. He’s wasting time, he knows. This is just his little sister; he shouldn’t be so nervous. “There was this man who had a beautiful laugh, and he somehow got my number and texted me, but I was so nervous that I didn’t answer and then… then yesterday I answered and now we’re going to have dinner, tonight, and I don’t know what to wear because I’ve only ever gone to dinner with people from my family, or Zhao Chiyin and Bai Rong.” He finishes with another long sigh, and drops his gaze to his hands, that lay motionless in his lap.
“Woah, gege it’s…” Something in Gu Hengbo’s voice makes him look up and, when he looks at her, she’s beaming. Her eyes, caramel soft like his own, are shinning with excitement, and her lips are curved upwards in a huge smile “, it’s wonderful. Really, I’m so happy for you! Of course, I will help you!” She jumps off the bed and takes his hand forcing him to stand, too, and dragging him out the door and towards his own room.
“Do you really don’t mind? I know you must be busy and I you don’t have to…”
“Shen Qiao.” She says, stopping mid-step and turning to look up at him. She’s slim and delicate, but when she looks at him with her hands on her hips and such a determined look on her face, it’s impossible not to feel intimidated. “I want to do this. I have been waiting ages to do this. I… you’re always working, or studying, you’re always so busy that we… we don’t get to hang out much and you…You’ve never asked for my help before, you know?”
She smiles, but it seems more like something sad tugging at the corners of her lips. The hand that holds his own is small and soft, but it holds on to him with such a strength that Shen Qiao wonders when the last time was that he held his sister’s hand. It’s small and insignificant, like the feeling he had while seeing the books in her room, but it makes something inside him constrict, something in his chest tighten.
“Hengbo would you…would you help me choose an outfit for tonight? I can… I can tell you about him, too, if you want.”
Her eyes shine like new-born stars, and her hand tightens around his own, as she gives a simple, almost imperceptible nod.
*
Shen Qiao arrives to the restaurant half an hour early. It’s not really a surprise, since his fear of having people waiting on him often makes him arrive too early to whatever appointment he has, but this time he can’t help being a little angry at himself, because, deep down, he had been wanting to make Yan Wushi wait since the moment he read his last message, just out of spite. Shen Qiao is not a spiteful person, but something in the way Yan Wushi talks just makes him… He sighs, closes his eyes, and shakes his head, trying to regain his composure.
The hotel lobby is just as impressive as the outside of the building: an ample room with crystal walls and a floor covered in a rich red carpet, with elegant sofas scattered between a jungle of exotic plants that hang from the ceiling and decorate corners and tables. There’s an elegantly dressed man that escorts him inside, and another one that calls the elevator for him, and yet another one inside the elevator, who presses the button the top floor. Shen Qiao has never seen so many people looking so solemn while doing so little.
The terrace if huge, surrounded by elegantly crafted metal railings covered in vines, and decorated with flowerbeds overflowing with various types of colorful flowers. In the center there’s a beautiful stone fountain coronated by the statue of an ancient warrior holding up a sword. You can see the whole city from almost every table, and the view is nothing if not breathtaking, which is something Shen Qiao’s thankful for, since Yan Wushi arrives forty minutes late.
Why did he wait for forty minutes? He has absolutely no idea.
Their table has the best views of the park near Xuandu Building, so Shen Qiao’s distracted thinking about how beautiful the trees look from so high above when, out of the corner of his eye, he notices movement at the other side of the table.
“Shen Qiao, are you not going to welcome me?”
Shen Qiao turns his head calmly to the man that has just taken the seat across from him.
“I believe that the fact that I am here should be welcome enough. You are forty minutes late.”
Yan Wushi raises his eyebrows in mock surprise and makes a show of checking the time on his phone, but his eyes never really leave Shen Qiao.
“Oh my, well, I am here now, and you’re still here, so it’s all good, isn’t it?” He says, offering a cheeky grin.
“That’s not the point.”
“Oh? And what’s the point?”
“The point is…” Shen Qiao frowns and shakes his head, “, you’re not even listening to me.”
Yan Wushi laughs. Oh. Shen Qiao had almost forgotten about that laugh; it’s deep and rich and it sends shivers down his spine.
“I’m sorry, Ah-Qiao, but how could I, when you’re pouting at me like that? All I can think about is how I want to eat you up!”
“Yan Wushi!”
The reproach earns him another hearty laugh, and he has to look away in order to try and calm himself. Really, why is he here again? What did he expect? he should just go. Just stand up and walk away, delete his number, and his life will be back…
“I’m glad you came, Shen Qiao, I have to admit that I had my doubts.”
“If showing up late is something you usually do, next time I might reconsider.”
His eyes drift back to the other man, and Yan Wushi has an elbow on the table and his head popped up in one hand, staring at him with an expression that could be considered fond, if his eyes did not hold such a dark glint.
“The date hasn’t even started and you’re already asking to see me again? How forward, Ah-Qiao.”
“This is not-…You’re impossible. I don’t know why I came.”
Yan Wushi laughs again and raises a hand to call for a waiter. Shen Qiao sighs and hides himself behind his menu, thankful for the short moment of privacy it provides.
“So, Shen Qiao, tell me, what do you do?” Yan Wushi asks. He takes a sip of his wine -a wine he had chosen himself, and makes a face, leaving the glass back on the table with disdain. Shen Qiao just rolls his eyes.
“I’m studying business management.”
“And working as an intern in your father’s company.”
Shen Qiao takes a sip of his tea and leans back a bit to allow the waiter to deposit his food in front of him.
“If you already knew, why did you ask?”
“Just wanted to know how much you’d tell me” Yan Wushi grins. “I assume you know who I am?”
“I know you work as a political consultant for Yuwen Yong, who was my father’s political adversary.”
Yan Wushi nods absentmindedly as he carefully cuts his steak. The meat is almost raw, and blood begins to slowly spill onto the plate, making Shen Qiao’s stomach turn until he has to force his eyes to focus on his salad.
“That is all?” the older man asks, after swallowing. His eyes focus on Shen Qiao and they’re suddenly a lot darker than they seemed just a moment before. Has the lighting changed? Are Shen Qiao’s contacts not working?
“Is there something else you do?”
Yan Wushi smiles, all perfect, white teeth, thin lips, and sharp canines; sharper than any Shen Qiao’s ever seen before. He frowns, studying the other man’s face for a moment, but nothing seems to be amiss, yet there’s a strange feeling taking form in the pit of his stomach, something uncomfortable that he can’t quite find the words to describe.
“Many things,” Yan Wushi says. “And you? What else do you do, besides work and study all day, Ah-Qiao?” if he notices Shen Qiao’s scrutiny, he doesn’t show it.
“I practice martial arts,” Shen Qiao offers, forcing himself to relax. The man in front of him is just a man, as strange has he might seem, “and sometimes play weiqi, though I have to admit that I’ve run out of opponents.”
“Oh? Shen Qiao, how arrogant, I didn’t think you had it in you.” He calls him arrogant, but his tone is laced with prideful amusement. “It’s your lucky day, it seems. You see, I happen to be a wonderful player.”
Shen Qiao doesn’t bother trying to hide his surprise.
“You play? I don’t know many people who do.”
“Come to my apartment later, and I can show you just how good I am.” His eyes are dark again, his smile, predatory.
“You were doing so well.” Shen Qiao sighs and goes back to his food, pretending Yan Wushi’s roaring laughter doesn’t send shivers down his spine.
After that, it’s surprisingly easy to fall into a comfortable conversation with the other man, well, as comfortable as his constant innuendos allow. Shen Qiao has never interacted with anyone like Yan Wushi; the older man is opinionated, calculating, unapologetic, arrogant, and, though he’ll ever say it out loud, also quite bratty. These shouldn’t be traits that appeal to Shen Qiao, they certainly never have before, but there’s something else, too, something in the smugness of his smile, or the strange wonder that softens the corners of his eyes when he starts at Shen Qiao for just a little too long…
“Shen Qiao, are you listening to me?”
“How could I not?” he answers, waking up from his reverie. “You sure love the sound of your own voice.”
“And you love the sound of my laugh, or so you said.”
“Yan Wushi! you…” Shen Qiao rubs his face with one hand and sighs, giving up on any reprimand he was going to give.
“So, as I was asking want do you want.” Yan Wushi says, ignoring Shen Qiao’s reaction.
“What do I want?”
“You said you were going to go into politics to take over your father’s career, and now you’re studying management to take over his company, but is it really what you want?”
Shen Qiao stares at him. The nerve of this man.
“It’s bold of you to assume what I want or don’t.”
Yan Wushi just smiles, drowning the last contents of his glass of wine – a new wine, one chosen almost randomly after the first one was discarded.
“I know you’re not the only one who wants to take over your father’s company.”
“I think it’s time to leave. Thank you for dinner, Yan Wushi.”
He makes a move to stand up, but Yan Wushi extends an arm over the table to take a gentle hold on his wrist.
“Ah-Qiao, don’t be like that. I promise I’ll behave.”
An empty promise, Shen Qiao knows, but sighs and sits back down none the less.
“I don’t mind taking over my father’s company,” he offers, as a piece offering.
“I like your father,” Yan Wushi says, watching the sway of the wine in his cup. “I respected him enough to consider switching sides, back in the day.”
This, Shen Qiao was not expecting.
“You wanted to work for my father?”
Yan Wushi shrugs.
“I wanted to know what he’d do if he won.”
“Wait…”, something clicks in Shen Qiao’s head, the pieces falling suddenly into place. “You knew who I was when you approached me at the party.”
“Of course, I did.”
“Then why did you…?”, he trails off, remembering soft, demanding lips against his own. Mortified, he uses all the willpower he has, to not stand up and storm off.
Yan Wushi, as he always does, just laughs.
“Ah-Qiao, Ah-Qiao, you’re a wonder. How was I supposed to stay away, when every single person at that party wanted you for themselves?”
“What are you…-they certainly didn’t….”
The older man leans over the table and his voice drops, suddenly low, as if he was telling a secret.
“You don’t know yourself very well, don’t you, Shen Qiao?”
There’s something strange in the way he says it, a sureness in his words that suggests that he’s stating a fact, rather than asking a question. He’s close now, close enough for Shen Qiao to notice that his canines are, indeed, sharper than they should, and that his eyes are darker than they were only moments ago, so dark, actually, that they seem, for a moment, almost opaque, like pools of tar.
Shen Qiao’s stomach tightens, his throat constricts, and something in his gut tells him that the man in front of him is not what he seems, but the moment comes and goes just as fast, as soon as Yan Wushi winks, and goes back to talking about how boring working for Yuwen Yong is, as if the air around them hadn’t grown thick as molasses.
Much later, Yan Wushi insists on dropping him home but doesn’t leave the car to walk him to the door, something that Shen Qiao’s thankful for.
“That was fun, Ah-Qiao,” he says, and flashes him a smile. “Next time, I will take you somewhere even nicer.”
Next time. Shen Qiao doesn’t know if he wants it to be a next time.
“Next time I will leave if you make me wait,” he answers instead.
Yan Wushi’s laugh follows him as he climbs the front steps, and then he’s almost sure he can still hear it, even when he closes the door behind him.
Despite the late hour and Shen Qiao’s inaudible footsteps, Gu Hengbo’s door opens wide as soon as he passes in front of it.
“How was your date?” She asks, with eyes shimmering with excitement.
Shen Qiao considers for a moment.
“It was kind of horrible, to tell the truth.”
“Oh…”, she seems to deflate, shoulders dropping, “do you think you’ll meet him again?”
“Probably, yes.”
It doesn’t seem to make much sense to his sister, but then again, it doesn’t make much sense to Shen Qiao, either.