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Chapter Text

“Yuheng!” Chu Wanning looked up from the engine he was tinkering with as Xue Zhengyong’s loud voice boomed through the small car repair shop.

“Is this your last repair of the day? The customer just called to ask when they could pick it up.”

Chu Wanning cast a glance over the engine which was cluttered with the various tools he’d been using. “I’ll finish by 4.”

Xue Zhengyong gave him a hearty pat on the back and strode off with a laugh in his voice. “Good, good! I’ll let the customer know!”

Chu Wanning pulled a phone from his pocket, set a timer, and tossed the phone back into his coveralls before turning back to the engine.

“Dad! Dad!” Xue Meng poked his head into the shop space, his eyes landing on Chu Wanning who was still arm-deep in the engine. “Oh, Uncle Chu!”

Chu Wanning finished putting the part back into place and slowly turned towards the youth. “Classes done?”

Xue Meng looked the part of a freshman in college, tight blue jeans and a tidy shirt paired with a backpack full of textbooks. “Yes, done for today! I’m so glad it’s Thursday again!” His eyes glimmered with enthusiasm as he lifted up the bags in his hands to show to Chu Wanning. “I remembered to order the Pine Nut-encrusted Mandarin Fish, too!”

Chu Wanning nodded back in acknowledgement. “I’ll be there. Need to clean up.”

Xue Meng smiled back and retreated to the main gathering area to pull out all his takeout containers and set up for a family dinner.

By the time Chu Wanning had cleaned up and entered the back room, the takeout containers were spread all over the table, open and steaming slightly.

“Yuheng! Sit down!” Xue Zhengyong called out.

Chu Wanning took his customary seat and after a moment for him to settle in, Xue Meng dived right in with his chopsticks.

As the family conversation floated above his head, Chu Wanning savored the flavors of Thursday’s dinner. It’d become somewhat of a tradition for Xue Zhengyong to get takeout from a Chinese restaurant around town every Thursday to “build family cohesion” at the shop. It was a small shop with only Chu Wanning and Xue Zhengyong working most of the time, so it was just Chu Wanning eating with the Xue family.

Madam Wang smiled at the taciturn man, “You’ve seemed to enjoy it the last few times we ordered from this place.”

“Mn. It’s not bad.”

“Our nephew works there as a cook! Just got hired there in the past few weeks. What do you think of his skills?” Xue Zhengyong cut in, boasting as always.

“Not bad.” Chu Wanning took another bite of the dish.

Xue Zhengyong chortled, “Then we’ll keep ordering from the place! We even found your favorite Lionhead Meatballs on the menu this time.”

“Thanks.” Chu Wanning picked up one of the meatballs to try.

He ate almost all the meatballs that night.

Chu Wanning stood in the restaurant, waiting for his takeout. He wasn’t great at cooking, so once he found a good place to get food, he’d go back again and again.

“Mr. Chu, here’s your order.” Chu Wanning accepted the proffered plastic bag, reaching for his wallet.

As he did, the table of young women behind him exploded in a flurry of whispers. “Oh, it’s his break time! He’s coming out of the kitchen!” Their excitement was all the more palpable as the rest of the restaurant was empty due to it being nearly 3pm.

Curiosity piqued, Chu Wanning caught a glimpse of a tall apron-wearing young man carrying several piping hot dishes to one of the tables closest to the kitchen. The man seemed to hear the twittering, flashing a dimpled smile towards the young women which sent them into a frenzy.

Frivolous. Chu Wanning internally scoffed at the women’s reactions. He furrowed his brows and refocused on the task at hand.

Though Chu Wanning preferred eating takeout at home most of the time, sometimes it was nice to eat out so that he didn’t need to clean afterwards, not that the state of his abode showed any actual sign of cleaning. He’d gotten used to the restaurant Xue Zhengyong kept ordering from and so a few nights a week, a quiet figure could be found in the cornermost booth.

Also, it always felt more comfortable ordering in Chinese.

“Your usual?” The waiter’s peach blossom eyes curved upwards as he approached the table.

Chu Wanning acknowledged the question with a nod and was in the middle of turning his gaze back to his blueprints when, contrary to his expectations, the waiter spoke up again, “Pardon, I’m curious. What are you working on?”

There was a pregnant silence as Chu Wanning’s eyes snapped back up to the waiter’s open face in astonishment. “A prosthetic,” a beat, “for dogs.”

A smile bloomed on the waiter’s face. “That sounds wonderful! Do you do this for work?”

Chu Wanning answered each question with a few words. This waiter’s enthusiasm couldn’t be fake, but it was quite overwhelming to be subjected to such focused attention.

Seeing his discomfort, the waiter finally took mercy on him, excusing himself to go and put in the order to the kitchen staff.

“Lionshead meatballs.”

The chef looked up and answered back joyously, “Shi Mei!”, then paused as he registered the order. “Ah, again?”

“Yes, and a side of osthmanthus jelly,” Shi Mei added as he affixed the order on the rack for easy reference.

“Alright, less oil, less salt, and a pinch more sugar. Coming right up!” The chef barked out a laugh as he started on the new dish.

“Those prosthetics are really intricate.”

“Mn.”

“What does this do?”

It had gotten to be a usual scene, this waiter spending a few more moments with Chu Wanning at the booth when he came to the restaurant. Though it would’ve been nice to be left alone, the genuine curiosity from the waiter made it hard to refuse to answer his questions. It wasn’t often that people approached Chu Wanning without an iota of cold disdain for his curtness.

“This has so many different parts… Doesn’t it cost a lot to make these?”

Chu Wanning noncommittedly hummed in response. It was a labor of love; cost didn’t really factor into the considerations. He’d use whatever parts were best for the animals’ later mobility. Of course, his salary as a mechanic only allowed him to make so many prosthetics, but that was just how it was.

“Have you ever thought of earning additional money outside of your job?”

Chu Wanning stiffened at the question, shooting back a surprised glance at the waiter’s—Shi Mingjing’s—face.

Shi Mingjing continued, “Have you ever heard of supplements?”

Chu Wanning’s expression remained impassive and neutral.

Shi Mingjing explained, “I was suspicious, too, when my brother told me about them, but busy people like us tend to eat without thinking too much about balance—eating whatever we like over and over again or whatever is available. Over time, we often end up lacking in certain nutrients. Supplements can help fill that gap.”

Chu Wanning didn’t respond but didn’t turn away either. Shi Mingjing had already mentioned that he’d studied and practiced medicine before, though in a different country. People in all walks of life had nuggets of wisdom.

“It’s not a cure-all, but supplements can really help people. Letting people know about something that can help them while also earning some money on the side. Why not?”

Chu Wanning stayed quiet, mind still somewhat stunned by this change of topics.

“What you earn can be used for whatever you’d like. More parts for those prosthetics, even.”

Shi Mingjing seemed to withdraw, perhaps sensing that he was pressing too much, too soon. The waiter left Chu Wanning to mull over his words as he silently finished his meal.

In the following few weeks, Chu Wanning reverted back to his previous pattern of only getting takeout or, more often, eating prepackaged foods that were easy to eat while working—too many potential distractions when outside. Indeed, it was much calmer and quieter in one’s own space.

He hunched over his worktop, poring over his latest blueprint. The last patient who had used his prosthetic had shown some difficulty in walking with the new design. Its muscles had atrophied somewhat and couldn’t maneuver the prosthetic’s weight well.

He’d tried various materials of construction over the years but had shied away from some of the lightweight and more durable specialized alloys due to the expense. It had been better to help more dogs and have to replace a part after half a year to a year rather than to insist on something that would last a decade and only be able to help a handful of patients.

Weight though… It seemed that he might need to use that alloy again—at least for special cases.

As he filled out the order form for the new parts, that waiter’s words came to mind. More parts for those prosthetics, even.

A few months passed before Chu Wanning felt comfortable enough to return to his booth at the restaurant.

Between his work at the car shop and his prosthetics-building projects, he slowly researched supplements and nutrition. Since that waiter used to be a doctor in his home-country, his words held a little more weight, but he’d introduced and pursued the subject with an abnormal intensity beneath his words which made Chu Wanning wary. Were supplements a lie or were they actually helpful?

The research seemed to point mostly to the importance of variety in one’s diet and firmly labeled supplements as “could help, but quality may vary”. He tentatively concluded that the waiter’s words were probably true; earning money while helping people and using the resulting proceeds to build more and better prosthetics sounded more and more viable.

It could work.

It was that same waiter who greeted him in Chinese at the door when he walked in.

“Ah, Mr. Chu! Welcome back.” The waiter shot him a sheepish smile. “Sorry for overstepping previously. I seem to have scared you away for a while.”

Chu Wanning just silently slid into the booth, face impassive.

The waiter coughed lightly, “Your usual?”

Chu Wanning nodded and the waiter slipped away, seemingly chastened by his lack of response to the apology.

When the waiter came back with the piping hot order—“less oil, less salt, with a pinch more sugar”—Chu Wanning stopped him before he could retreat.

“Last time, what did you mean?”

The waiter stilled, then the confusion and surprise cleared from his gaze.

“The supplements?”

“Mn.”

“You want to help people?”

The look at Chu Wanning shot the waiter said hurry up and spit it out.

A light began to shine from the other’s eyes. “Of course! As you know, the basis of nutrition…”

As the nutrition class was still a few weeks away from starting the next session, Shi Mingjing insisted that Chu Wanning attend a class that was going to occur earlier—the business class.

That night was uneventful. Shi Mingjing led him into the nondescript building after taking him to a very quiet dinner; they had both focused mostly on the food, barely talking, words used up for the day.

The speaker was well dressed, expounding confidently in Chinese about the multiple cars, beautiful houses, and myriad of other things one could have once successful in the business. None of it really appealed until the second speaker went on stage, explaining how they used to have high cholesterol and yet somehow had healed themselves by using this company’s supplements and vitamins. Even more striking was the experiment they did with vitamin C. The iodine which they described as being something that would harm the body would turn white rice black normally, but when vitamin C was added, the white rice would remain white. The supplement would actually protect the white rice from damage.

It was strange, hearing Chinese. It was rare to be surrounded by his native tongue in the foreign land of America, but it felt like coming home.

When they circled up at the end and asked all the participants for feedback and comments on the class, Chu Wanning’s contribution was simple. “Chu Wanning. Shi Mingjing brought me. The experiment was good.”

Everyone paused for a moment, not sure if he had something else to add. After an awkward beat, the emcee lightly coughed and invited the next person to share.

A few weeks later, Shi Mingjing invited Chu Wanning to the Chinese supermarket on a Saturday morning to find people to help. Though it seemed like a strange place to meet, Chu Wanning agreed, if only out of idle curiosity. How could one find people who needed supplements at a supermarket anyways?

Spotting Shi Mingjing at the door, Chu Wanning glided over from the parking lot, a frosty expression affixed on his face.

Shi Mingjing smiled in welcome, “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Chu Wanning gave a stiff nod in return.

They stood there, looking at each other awkwardly for a moment, before Shi Mingjing wandered into the store, looking for someone of good potential as Chu Wanning silently trailed behind him.

Shi Mingjing made a beeline for one of the ladies who was handing out samples of wontons.

“Come and try out these wontons; easy to make from frozen!” She called out in lightly-accented Chinese to the two approaching handsome men, her face wreathed in smiles.

Shi Mingjing greeted her readily asking about the different fillings options which were available and picked one up to try. Chu Wanning took the offered sample of pork and chive wontons and quietly ate it.

“Thank you. It was good.” Halfway through turning away from the woman, Chu Wanning realized that Shi Mingjing hadn’t moved to follow.

“—did you say the flavors were? Which one would you recommend?” Shi Mingjing seemed wholly engrossed in these wontons. Chu Wanning turned back around to wait patiently for his companion.

The two chatted about nothing at all for a minute or two as Chu Wanning stood by, taciturn and odd.

Once they’d walked away, Shi Mingjing turned towards Chu Wanning, “You see how it’s done?”

Chu Wanning didn’t let his confusion show, “What?”

“Getting phone numbers. First step to getting customers.” Shi Mingjing flashed his phone at Chu Wanning. The phone displayed a newly added contact.

“That…” Chu Wanning trailed off.

“I can demonstrate again if you’d like.”

Chu Wanning didn’t respond, face stiff and unwelcoming.

Shi Mingjing flashed him a smile and went in search of the next person. “No worries, just watch me a few more times. You’ll get a feel for it over time.”

Even after a few weeks had passed, he still hadn’t gotten the feel for it.

Shi Mingjing had initially encouraged him to go to the supermarkets for more practice, but after repeated failures had suggested other places to find prospects: the gym, social gatherings of all sorts, church.

He did try. His throat just kept closing up only a few words into each awkward conversation. All this small talk with people he didn’t know drained him immensely. He didn’t see the point.

How was this helping people?

Wasn’t meeting people then texting them to follow up actually aggravating people instead?

Chu Wanning hugged his pillow to his chest after yet another exhausting afternoon of shadowing Shi Mingjing.

With each trip out, his confidence fell lower and lower. He was neither as welcoming or as handsomely pretty as Shi Mingjing. All his words seemed to fall flat when they left his mouth and the people he was trying to connect to would shy away.

One time, he had snuck away while Shi Mingjing was preoccupied and had left the building, sitting down on a bench nearby in defeat. A small mangy cat had passed by and he’d tried to talk to it; the cat had scampered away as soon as it’d glimpsed him.

He had a face that even a cat couldn’t accept.

What hope did he have with anyone else?

Chapter Text

Finally the day of the nutrition class arrived.

A table lined up with different bottles and boxes was set up on the stage as Mo Ran came into the room. Shi Mei guided him gently to one of the chairs in the front row. Mo Ran obediently sat down. He wasn’t about to refuse to sit so close to the stage; Shi Mei had personally invited him to this lecture after all.

It was only right that he, as Shi Mei’s biggest fan, sat as close as possible.

Shi Mei smiled and excused himself to get ready, circling around the table to make minute adjustments to the arrangement before leaving for the back of the room.

Mo Ran followed that handsome figure with his eyes, admiration dyeing his gaze with a soft light.

As he turned back towards the stage, he noticed a white-clad figure, also in the first row.

Lionshead Meatballs, less oil, less salt, and a pinch more sugar. A side of osthmanthus jelly. That order was so consistent that Mo Ran had it burned into his brain. He’d caught a glimpse of the customer a few times through the window to his workstation and Shi Mei had mentioned a name before.

“Mr. Chu?”

Chu Wanning’s fingers tightened imperceptibly on the pages of his notebook, “Mo Ran.” This was the nephew Xue Zhengyong always talked about.

“Did Shi Mei invite you, too?”

“Mn.” Chu Wanning nodded sharply but did not say anything more.

A round of cheering interrupted the atmosphere between the two as Shi Mei swept past them and arrived at the stage.

“Welcome, everybody to our nutritional class today. Today, we’re going to discuss ridding your body of the toxins of daily life and the importance of the liver.” Mo Ran turned back towards the stage, basking in Shi Mei’s brilliant light.

“Shi Mei! You were great up there today!” Mo Ran exclaimed the moment Shi Mingjing stepped off stage at the end of the class.

As Mo Ran continued to heap praises upon a gently smiling Shi Mingjing, Chu Wanning tried his best to ignore the enthused yelps of the young pup. It was only natural to praise the speaker of course and Shi Mingjing had indeed been well-measured and professional in how he explained detoxification and all the other biological processes they’d covered today.

His thoughts were interrupted by a call for everyone to circle up and share their learnings from class. Mo Ran excitedly dragged Shi Mingjing away, leaving Chu Wanning to drift slowly, aimlessly towards the closest group. The leader of that circle welcomed the expressionless Chu Wanning with a stiff smile, then turned back to the rest to start the discussion.

It was a few weeks later when Chu Wanning had the chance to step on stage. He’d practiced almost every day since then; after all, one could not help people without the proper knowledge and background. Shi Mingjing had gone to medical school, albeit in another country, so medical terms and processes seemed to flow fluidly from his mouth; others, such as Chu Wanning, had to practice those same words and concepts many times in order to achieve the same effect.

Chu Wanning had a nearly imperceptible furrow in his brows as he went over the sequence of steps again.

“Mr. Chu, good morning.” Mo Ran strode in and sat down in his customary front-row seat. He’d been at every Shi Mingjing-led class without fail since he was first invited.

Chu Wanning nodded back at him in acknowledgement, then immediately turned his eyes back to his notebook. First, set up four cups, two with white rice and two without. Make sure there is a pitcher or bottle of clear water nearby…

Mo Ran looked around the room, searching for Shi Mei’s silhouette. When he didn’t find that familiar figure, he idly picked up some of the supplement bottles from the table display, reading the descriptions on the back. He was used to Shi Mei tossing back entire handfuls of supplements during dinner for the restaurant staff; it was a miracle that Shi Mei was able to swallow all of them down without choking.

Halfway through the lecture, Shi Mei reached the part where a demonstration was usually done and Chu Wanning made his way onto the stage, face impassive.

Chu Wanning walked through the steps of the demo by rote, tossing out single sentence explanations one at a time as if he were reading off of a bulleted list. His hands were steady, but only he knew how much he was shaking inside from nerves.

A compelling demonstration, it wasn’t; Chu Wanning hid his disappointment in himself behind a composed mask. As he stepped back off the stage, the polite applause barely registered in his ears as he immediately started mentally listing areas where he’d gone wrong.

Mo Ran gaze was on his as he settled back into his seat and the young man lobbed over some perfunctory praise, “Good job.”

Chu Wanning met those eyes, nodded, then turned away.

Neither hide nor hair of Chu Wanning was seen at the class for quite some time after that first demonstration.

Three minutes of glory on stage was 10 years of hard work offstage—Chu Wanning was determined to not mess up again.

He could hear the phantom laughter of the ones in the audience in his ears, saw the dull, bored glint of everyone’s eyes from the stage in his mind.

Shi Mingjing had invited him to the rest of the classes in the nutrition series, but Chu Wanning answered the phone only rarely and when he did, it was always with curtness.

The only moments when he wasn’t working or practicing were his scheduled visits to the clinic. As with all things, prosthetics worked better after being customized.

He looked down at the teary eyes of his latest patient who continued whining softly as she laid on the table.

“I’m almost done.” He murmured as he secured the last piece and finished adjusting the tension at the joint.

“There.” He ran a soothing palm down the dog’s back, then slowly scooped her up and helped her find her legs on the floor.

The dog stood there, still—not sure what to do with four legs rather than three. Chu Wanning reached up, plucking a dog treat from the jar on the table. He held it a few inches from the dog’s nose. “Here.”

The dog took a tentative step forward towards the treat, then another as the treat retreated with her every step.

By the time the fourth treat was captured, the dog was shadowing Chu Wanning’s every move.

He smiled.

The next time Shi Mingjing contacted him about a new round of nutrition classes, Chu Wanning was ready.

Perhaps tired from constantly being rebuffed, the frequent inquiries had moved to text message.

Another series of nutrition classes is starting in a week. This time the special topics include ‘What is a balanced diet?’. Would you like to come?

Chu Wanning: When?

Shi Mingjing: Saturday, 10:30, same place as last time

Chu Wanning: Alright.

Shi Mingjing: Would you mind doing the iodine presentation again?

It was a full 15 minutes before Chu Wanning’s reply.

Chu Wanning: Alright.

When Chu Wanning arrived at the class that Saturday, the table set up on the stage was overflowing with colorful fruits and vegetables, some fake, some real as if those who arranged the display had run out of realistic plastic food and had done a desperate grocery run to fill in the gaps.

He sat down on the front row next to an open notebook filled with a nearly illegible scrawl of pinyin, Chinese characters, and English.

Right before the start of the class, a figure slipped into that spot. It was Mo Ran.

“Oh, Mr. Chu!” Mo Ran’s eyes glinted purple in the light. “It’s been a while!”

Faced with sudden pleasantries, Chu Wanning’s brain blanked out in surprise. “Hello,” he shook his head, trying to kickstart his mind. “Mo Ran.”

“The front row was lonely without you,” Mo Ran tossed back jokingly, his smile full of careless frivolity. “No one else ever wants to sit up here.”

Chu Wanning stared at him, stuck on the first part of Mo Ran’s statement.

The lack of response was beginning to edge into awkwardness when Mo Ran waved a hand in front of Chu Wanning to break him out of his stunned stupor. “Hello?” Another wave. “Mr. Chu?”

Chu Wanning snapped out of it, “Ah, yes?”

“Just checking if you were still here. How have you been?”

Chu Wanning was just formulating his answer when Shi Mingjing’s voice sounded from the speakers, “Welcome everyone to today’s nutrition class! Today’s topic is ‘What is a balanced diet?’”

Chu Wanning exhaled, some of the tension draining from his body as Mo Ran turned his bright gaze towards the stage. He turned back to his detailed notes about the demonstration. He couldn’t mess up this time.

It was strange being on stage this time. His brain blank, Chu Wanning performed the demonstration on autopilot, his hands and mouth moving even as his mind went slightly fuzzy around the edges due to anxiety.

He shot a quick glance at the audience to see the response during a pause, but all he could see was Shi Mingjing standing in the back, observing everything with a cool yet welcoming gaze, a slight smile on his lips. Shi Mingjing even nodded at him, as if in acknowledgement of his progress.

Chu Wanning felt a bolt of warmth in his chest, easing the tightness that had lodged there since he’d woken up this morning.

He reached the ending line of the demonstration successfully and stepped back down to his seat amidst the polite applause, slightly giddy but mostly relieved that it worked out.

“Wow, you did really well!” Mo Ran said to him, voice not loud, but clear enough to be heard despite the clapping.

Chu Wanning looked at those sparkling eyes and turned away to compose himself. Sucking in a deep breath, he smoothed down the expression on his face, then tossed Mo Ran a curt “thanks”.

He hung his head back down, delving into the familiar words in his notebook and missing Mo Ran’s look of surprise.

After that initial demonstration—Chu Wanning preferred to think of it as the real first demo—Chu Wanning became a regular attendee of the nutrition classes. Though his demonstrations were not always the most entertaining, the other attendees—and more importantly, the class leaders—eventually realized that he was always prepared and never forgot any of the steps or details.

Chu Wanning found himself honored with the new title of Laoshi, invited to people’s houses to do the demonstration for their prospects, complimented on his presentation skills, and held up as an example of what hard work and a serious attitude towards learning could accomplish.

“Chu-laoshi, do you have any extra chlorine? I ran out and I need to do a demo this afternoon after class!”

“Chu-laoshi, could you show me how to do that demo again? What’s the step after adding the iodine?”

“Chu-laoshi…”

Chu Wanning addressed all requests with sincerity and seriousness. Despite his curt replies and sharp features, he would answer questions from the newer participants of the classroom with great patience.

“Shi-laoshi, you brought in a good one.” One of the other leaders commented one day while observing Chu Wanning teaching a new recruit the steps of the water alkalinity demonstration. “He’s a great teacher and an asset to our nutrition class.”

He continued, “I was a little concerned when he froze up the first time on stage, but it looks like he’s gotten past his stage fright. You know, only the other day, he helped do a demo for that new person I brought in.”

Shi Mingjing nodded, “Yes, he’s very reliable. However, he still hasn’t brought in any prospects these months.”

“Maybe you could place a line underneath him? You need three strong downlines to get to Emerald. Give him a little boost.” The leader smiled. “It’ll help him which in turn helps the whole class.”

Shi Mingjing could hear the underlying message. He smiled back mildly, “Thank you for your advice.”

He brought it up that night during his phone call back to China. “Ge… What do you think about it?”

“Keep your focus on the team. Chu Wanning has proven to be a technical talent, but you need more active people in that line to get to the next level.”

Shi Mingjing fell silent, pondering.

“Who else looks promising in your group?”

“Remember my ‘friend’ from the restaurant, Ge?”

“Mm. Weiyu?”

“He’s all enthusiasm. Comes to every class I teach to gape at me when I’m on stage. Every time he tries to quote Laoshi, he ends up reciting it wrong.” Shi Mingjing sighed. “Just like you counseled, I’m trying to hold my tongue around him.”

“Who else?”

It was nearly 2am by the time they finished their discussion.

“A’Ran, I’ve noticed that you get along with Chu Wanning in the classes.”

Mo Ran looked up in surprise, chopsticks holding a half-eaten dumpling dripping with hot chili oil. He hastily swallowed down the food in his mouth and put the rest down. “We’re okay. He’s okay.”

“Oil.” Shi Mei tapped the side of his own mouth and handed Mo Ran an additional napkin.

“Why do you ask?” Mo Ran cleaned up the chili oil around his mouth with the proffered napkin, smile turning somewhat sheepish.

“Remember when you said you wanted to join the business? What about joining under him? You’ll still be in my group.”

“I wanted to join to help you, not him.” Mo Ran protested—after all, Shi Mei was the first who had looked at his scruffy self and treated him with kindness. He could still remember the warmth of Shi Mei’s fingers applying the soothing cream to the cuts he’d garnered on his first night as a dishwasher.

Shi Mei filled up his cup of tea to the brim and pushed it over to him soundlessly.

Mo Ran took a quick sip, halting immediately when the scalding hot tea hit his mouth. He coughed in order to unsuccessfully hide his wince of pain.

“A’Ran!” Shi Mei patted Mo Ran on the back. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so hot… Let it cool down before drinking…”

A warmth bloomed in Mo Ran’s chest at the Shi Mei’s gentle tone, his momentarily burned tongue all but forgotten. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I join underneath you directly?” Mo Ran returned to the original topic.

“You remember the fast track program?” At Mo Ran’s blank stare, Shi Mei sighed in fond exasperation. “Didn’t you attend the business class a few times already? The new promotional program has been explained a few times already.”

He continued, “In order to get the $1000 bonus, a new member needs to have a certain level of customer sign-ups and volume in the first few months.” He paused, his peach blossom eyes glinting at Mo Ran. “You’d be very capable at talking to potential customers; you’d hit the target with no issue, but Mr. Chu… his talents lay elsewhere.” Shi Mei trailed off, clearly unwilling to talk poorly of one of his own prospects. Shi Mei was kind like that. Always seeing the best in people.

“You want me to help him out by being one of his downlines?” Though Mo Ran hadn’t paid much attention to the details of the fast track program, he could put two and two together.

“He’s very skilled in technical details, but your being in his group would help the team.”

Mo Ran pursed his lips, considering. “Would it help you out?”

“Yes.”

Mo Ran gazed upon that composed and gentle face, then suddenly grinned. “Whatever you say then, Shi Mei. His group is fine!”

Shi Mei returned the smile. “I’ll be counting on you then.”

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of activity.

Under Shi Mingjing’s gentle guidance, Chu Wanning found himself signed up into the organization and gained an enthusiastic follower in Mo Ran. Though Chu Wanning initially refused to accept Mo Ran as a downline—Mo Ran was closer to Shi Mingjing than to himself, certainly—Shi Mingjing had insisted. “Please, Chu-laoshi. This is the better arrangement. You two would make a great team.”

Chu Wanning had fallen silent despite the stubborn set to his mouth. If Shi Mingjing was that adamant about it, perhaps there was a deeper reason he wasn’t aware of.

Besides those brief—could you even call them proper conversations?—exchanges he had with Mo Ran at the start and end of all the nutrition classes, he really hasn’t spent much time with this young man. He knew that Mo Ran and Shi Mingjing worked at the same restaurant—that was about it.

Mo Ran, on the other hand, accepted his new task from Shi Mei with great gusto. Shi Mei had pointed out to him that the best way to succeed in the fast track program was to have a lot of prospects who later turned into paying customers. Mo Ran wasn’t concerned with the fast track and success, frankly speaking, but when Mo Ran listened again to the presentation on the program, it sounded like a downline’s (Chu Wanning’s) success in the program would also mean a small monetary bonus for their upline (Shi Mei).

Armed with that thought, Mo Ran ran full speed ahead, sweet-talking and convincing anyone who would listen to come and watch a demonstration.

If nothing else, his enthusiasm was impressive. After a week, Chu Wanning nearly ran out of chemicals to do the alkaline water testing demonstration for the prospects Mo Ran brought in. When that happened, only a slight furrow of his brow betrayed Chu Wanning’s consternation; he simply changed the topic to discuss the cell damage caused by free radicals and performed the iodine experiment instead. The prospect, somewhat confused by the abrupt shift, nevertheless continued listening and eventually was convinced—by a combination of Mo Ran’s silver tongue and Chu Wanning’s technical knowledge—to buy a bottle of supplements.

Mo Ran escorted the customer to the door, waving him off with a wide smile, before turning that same beam over to Chu Wanning who had immediately began clearing the table and repacking his kit.

“We’re a great team!” Mo Ran exclaimed, holding the wad of cash that the customer had given him.

Chu Wanning looked up, made a noncommittal noise, then kept packing up.

“Chu-laoshi!” Chu Wanning secured the cap of the iodine bottle that he’d used. “Chu-laoshi!”

Chu Wanning gazed at his yapping downline; his eyes were calm with a hint of frost. “Yes.”

“That’s our 5th paying customer!”

“Mn.”

“This means that everyone might get bonuses from the program!”

“Mn.”

That means Shi Mei might be able to get that bonus this month! Mo Ran exclaimed internally, his grin unflagging despite Chu Wanning’s curt responses.

Mo Ran continued bringing in prospects and handling all the social aspects while Chu Wanning dealt with all the demonstrations and technical explanations. They got one month, two months, all of the fast track bonuses; Mo Ran basked in the smiles Shi Mei bestowed upon them after every achievement.

And despite their stilted start, after so many late meals together—Mo Ran knew that Chu-laoshi would forget to eat if not forced—they’d at least reached the level of business partners, but no more.

That all changed on a Saturday.

A customer had called Mo Ran early that morning, wanting another case of protein powder that very day.

Chu Wanning answered the phone on speakerphone, both hands occupied with tweaking his new prosthetic leg design. “What?”

After Mo Ran’s rushed explanation, Chu Wanning gruffly replied, “I’ve got a case of it at home, but I’m not there right now. I’ll send you an address. Come and get the key from me.” Chu Wanning proceeded to hang up and continue tinkering.

When Mo Ran got there, he hesitantly parked in front of the animal clinic. What was Chu Wanning doing in a place like this? It did seem to be the correct place though—Chu Wanning’s car was parked here, too.

He texted a “Where are you exactly?” and “I’m here” and settled in to wait.

A few minutes later, he got a “Come around the back.”

Mo Ran dutifully walked around the side of the building and was immediately greeted with the sharp yips of a dog. A flustered Chu Wanning chased after Shortbread who was previously docile, “No, it’s not secure yet!”

The little dog bounded forward, barking in excitement now that he’d spotted a new playmate. Mo Ran immediately dropped into a crouch and let it sniff his fingers. Satisfied with his scent, the pup whined until he performed the obligatory pats.

Chu Wanning, now crouching on the other side of Shortbread, had taken the opportunity to tighten up the straps while Mo Ran was preoccupied. He let out an inaudible sigh. At least the dog hadn’t loosened up the prosthetic too much and hurt himself.

“—doing here? Chu-laoshi?”

Chu Wanning snapped out of his thoughts, “Ah, you found it.” He clamped his mouth shut. What an inane greeting. Of course, Mo Ran had found the place. Chu Wanning himself had given him the address and directions. Chu Wanning turned away abruptly, striding back to the table.

Mo Ran grinned inwardly at sight of this normally stiff and aloof man who now had flyaway hair and rumpled clothes; the contrast was hilarious. “What are you doing here, Chu-laoshi?”

The words had just left his mouth when he realized that the dog that he’d been petting only had 3 normal legs. The 4th gleamed with a metallic sheen.

“A prosthetic?”

“Mn.” Chu Wanning approached Shortbread, a different tool in his hand. “Hold him.”

Mo Ran froze, confused, before he realized that Chu Wanning was talking to him. “Ah, okay.”

As Mo Ran continued soothingly petting the dog, Chu Wanning stooped over to make a few more adjustments to the joints, then stepped away. After depositing his tools, he turned back to face Shortbread and clapped. “Come over here.”

The dog’s head popped up immediately—he bounced up and trotted over to Chu Wanning who observed his gait and behavior for a minute or two, before tossing Shortbread a chew toy which was aggressively captured and dragged away.

Still crouched, Mo Ran looked up at Chu Wanning who was now briskly packing up the rest of the metallic instruments on the table. “You do this often?”

Chu Wanning paused for a moment, then resumed packing, “When I have time.”

“How did you get into making prosthetics for dogs?”

Chu Wanning slipped a stray metal file in.

“How long have you been doing it?”

The last screwdriver got tossed in as well.

“Why do you continue doing it?”

The loud sound of Chu Wanning’s bag snapping closed cut through the air.

“Come, Shortbread.” The dog perked up and followed Chu Wanning to the back of the clinic.

“Be a good boy.” Chu Wanning murmured as he locked him up in one of the cages. A burst of different barks from the other cages could be heard before Chu Wanning closed the back door of the clinic and locked it back up.

As Chu Wanning swept past Mo Ran to his car, he finally replied, “Dogs with missing limbs don’t get adopted. Dogs with prosthetics do.”

Mo Ran stared at his back in stunned silence before shaking himself off and calling out after him. “Wait! To your apartment?”

After that, Mo Ran saw Chu Wanning in a different light. He’d never truly thought him heartless, but at the same time, he’d never seen anything but Chu Wanning’s cold businesslike mien either.

If his calling “Chu-laoshi” seemed warmer and more genuine now, no one seemed to notice.

Shi Mei, quite satisfied that his two best downlines were consistently attending class without his external prompting—and more importantly, consistently generating sales—began to gradually introduce additional product lines to Chu Wanning’s repertoire. The air filter and the water filter, Chu Wanning easily mastered the demonstrations for those, but the cookware… that proved to be Chu-laoshi’s downfall.

“All you have to do is be the assistant. Just follow my lead.” Shi Mingjing reassured him before they stepped up to the large dining room table. Chu Wanning, grimacing, followed his leader in front of the row of eager faces who were waiting to see “the miracle cookware set”. By the time that Chu Wanning had turned to face the group, the expression on his face had smoothed out though a glint of steel could still be seen in the slight tightness of his mouth and frost in his eyes.

“And we dial it to medium heat,” Shi Mingjing explained as Chu Wanning reached behind him and flicked on the portable stove. “And all we need to do for this three-tiered stack of dishes to cook is to wait until there are bubbles coming out from the lid. That’s our sign that we’ve reached temperature.”

He continued, “So we’re going to move on to our next dish, sticky rice. First, we light the stove,” He nodded to Chu Wanning who turned up the fire with a whoosh to lick the sides of the frying pan. A pained expression flitted across Shi Mingjing’s face before he was able to suppress it. He coughed lightly and stepped in to adjust the heat down to a more appropriate setting. “Remember, it’s always better to start out on medium-heat.” He stepped back to allow Chu Wanning to get closer to the pan. “And then add some oil, so that we can sauté the sausage and meat before we cook the rest of the dish.

The rest of the demonstration went just about the same way. Chu Wanning hit every cue, but always adjusted the fire a little too hot every time; Shi Mingjing would discreetly change the setting while the audience was distracted. The half cup of soy sauce in the chicken dish became 3/4ths of a cup, rendering the chicken only acceptable when the flavor was diluted with cups and cups of tea.

During the obligatory roundtable at the end, Shi Mingjing asked the standard question to everyone at the table “What was your favorite dish today?” and votes were nearly unanimous for the custard pudding which consisted only of two ingredients, eggs and a full jar of chicken broth which Mo Ran had helped to prepare (Mo Ran had done the eggs, Chu Wanning had stirred in the broth). Chu Wanning’s heart sank, but the only outward indication of his mood was the slight pursing of his lips.

When all of the audience had left, Shi Mingjing sat down with his two downlines. The atmosphere was somber and Chu Wanning found his hands kneading and smoothing his pants repeatedly before he shifted to forcibly—but discreetly—sit on his hands.

Shi Mingjing managed a slight smile before diving into the main feedback. “Well, today just shows that we might need a little more practice.” He reached out as if to pat Chu Wanning comfortingly on the shoulder, but withdrew his hand just before he touched, remembering Chu Wanning’s aversion to contact.

Chu Wanning remained silent.

“To make it go smoother, I can help pre-measure all the ingredients.” Mo Ran chimed in. After the words left his mouth, he looked from Shi Mingjing to Chu Wanning and back, unsure if his help would be appreciated. After all, this was supposed to be a demonstration to show off how the cookware set was suited for beginners and professionals alike, Chu Wanning being the former and Mo Ran being the latter.

Everyone knew Mo Ran worked at the restaurant as a chef; his ability to make amazing dishes with this cookware was a given—not so for Chu Wanning. This was supposed to prove that the cookware could help even the least experienced.

Shi Mingjing observed the tightness around his downline’s shoulders and let out a sigh.

“No worries, Chu-laoshi has already proven to be great at two of the three high-tech lines from the company.” Shi Mingjing turned to the silent man beside him. “You’re already loaded up with classes and demonstrations; no need to add more.”

Chu Wanning bit his inner lip. Two of the three. It grated.

Shi Mingjing continued, “You’re already doing extremely well. You’re the pillar of our nutrition class and of the air filter and water filter classes.” The forced cheer was apparent in his voice. Chu Wanning’s spirits sank down even further.

Chu Wanning left before Shi Mingjing did, driving away in a daze.

It became routine: nutrition, air filters, water filters, and the endless sea of strangers that greeted him with “Chu-laoshi!”

Between the classes, presentations, his normal job at the shop, and the occasional prosthetic, he was eating fewer and fewer meals, stretched thinner and thinner.

It was only a matter of time.

“Chu-laoshi, Chu-laoshi?” Mo Ran called out as he opened the front door. His knocking had yielded no answer, so he’d used the spare key his uncle had lent him to come in.

It had only been a few days since their last demonstration here, but the floor was already strewn with various boxes and bottles, along with scattered papers and a few gleaming metallic parts, organized vaguely into piles. Mo Ran nearly stepped on one of the boxes.

“Chu-laoshi?”

He carefully picked his way through the apartment and hesitated in front of the only closed door before he knocked. “Chu-laoshi?”

The answering silence was concerning. Mo Ran pushed open the door.

Chu Wanning was curled up, shivering, in a ball on the bed, more boxes and notebooks scattered over both the floor and the bed itself. A blanket was bunched up at the foot of the bed, unused.

Mo Ran got to the head of the bed—“excuse me”—felt for his temperature, and sucked in a cold breath. It took him a while to locate a clean towel, but soon after, MR laid a cold towel on Chu Wanning’s forehead, placed a glass of water at his side, and unsuccessfully fed the man a herbal medicinal concoction given to him by Auntie Wang.

Chu Wanning woke up after rejecting Mo Ran’s second attempt.

“Wha—” he choked out. He hunched over, coughing up a storm. Mo Ran gingerly patted his back, wanting to help.

After his breath smoothed out, Chu Wanning shook off the hand. “What are you doing here?”

“Uncle told me you might be ill. He sent me.”

“I’m fine.”

“The medicine—”

“I’m. Fine.”

Mo Ran left the rest of the herbal medicine by Chu Wanning’s side. “Auntie said one large spoonful every four hours.” Mo Ran picked his way back out of the room, pausing to look back at Chu Wanning when he reached the bedroom door.

Chu Wanning shot him a glare.

“The medicine—”

Chu Wanning poured out approximately the correct amount and swallowed it down, his gaze fierce and face implacable even as he nearly gagged at the taste.

“Leave!”

Mo Ran fled.

Chapter Text

They continued to rise through the ranks, Mo Ran bringing in more people with his brilliant dimpled grin and Chu Wanning providing the technical knowledge about nutrition and other products.

The window for the fast track program was long over, but the money slowly built up and gradually increased. Shi Mingjing kept insisting that Chu Wanning keep a healthy inventory in his small apartment, so boxes of supplements were shoved into neglected corners of the apartment in spots that couldn’t be seen by prospects when they came over for demonstrations. That original impulse to earn money for more prosthetics’ parts… seemed to have been fulfilled. At the very least, when Chu Wanning wanted to try an experimental design, there was enough in the account to buy parts for it.

It would have stayed like this indefinitely if it weren’t for the conference.

“Laoshi is coming to America! She truly is the light of this business and she’s coming to dispense her pearls of wisdom about how to succeed!” The speaker exclaimed at the end of her presentation on Monday.

Chu Wanning spared her a brief glance, before looking back down to his partial sketch of a prosthetic. Mo Ran likewise didn’t seem all that enthused, but when Shi Mingjing approached him after class, asking about whether he was planning to go to the conference, he did a 180, bounding over to Chu Wanning afterwards, “Chu-laoshi, Laoshi is coming!”

Chu Wanning raised an elegant eyebrow.

“We can all go, right?” When not greeted with an immediate response, Mo Ran pressed again, “You’re going, right?”

It wasn’t like he couldn’t go, but there wasn’t any real reason to.

“They’re even adding a side trip to the organic farms where the ingredients are grown for the supplements and a visit to the factory as well!” Mo Ran parroted the talking points he’d just heard from Shi Mingjing.

Chu Wanning hmm’d back, uninterested.

Mo Ran leaned closer, eyes gleaming as he threw down the juiciest piece, “You can even ask the scientists directly about the product development process.”

From this distance, Mo Ran could see the momentary stillness in Chu Wanning’s form and the flutter of those fine eyelashes before he was ignored once again.

The silence stretched thin between them as Chu Wanning pondered the proposition.

“In person explanations are usually better than emails back and forth.” He smiled and strode away, confident that Chu Wanning would take the bait.

It was as Mo Ran had said, the factory truly was a marvel. Though building things was both his job and his hobby, biologicals and herbs were never his forte. The size and the scale of these machines dwarfed even the occasional “monster truck” that came through the door at the shop.

He mentally noted the air filters and pest zappers on the vents, the head-to-toe contamination outfits used by the workers, the cyclones used to flash dry the plant concentrates used in the supplements… The running list of questions that he had fluctuated with each observation.

He intently listened to the tour guide’s explanations as they walked along but couldn’t help overhearing strands of another conversation nearby.

“Look, Shi Mei, what is that machine over there?”

“A’Ran, we need to keep up with the tour…”

“But, Shi Mei…”

As expected, that easily distracted downline of his had run off with his “Shi Mei” again.

Chu Wanning’s brow furrowed imperceptibly—who was the one who so enthusiastically convinced him to come?—before he forcibly smoothed it back out. It was none of his business who Mo Ran yapped at.

With only a slight undercurrent of agitation, Chu Wanning hurried onwards with the group, sliding into a position close to the guide so that he could hear more clearly.

At the end of the tour, the guide introduced the group to one of the scientists. Those who wanted to ask questions could; those who didn’t have questions could tour the rest of the displayed models and posted exhibit explanations. Chu Wanning stayed by the scientist for the better part of the next hour. In the end, he’d even exchanged emails with the scientist.

“It was a pleasure to discuss this with you. It’s rare to get such detailed questions from a visitor.” The scientist smiled at him. The originally tedious task of needing to answer a mundane question for the 100th time had become a back and forth of research methods and reasoning. Though this visitor hadn’t the background in biology and nutrition, it was clear that he’d done his research—a breath of fresh air.

“Chu-laoshi! The bus is here. We need to go!” Mo Ran ran back in and loudly urged. Chu Wanning reluctantly tore himself away from the scientist as Mo Ran waited for him, agitation apparent.

When they arrived onto the bus, the highest-ranked leader greeted them in relief. “Thank you for finding Chu-laoshi, Mo Ran. The San Diego classroom starts class in a few hours.” He cleared his throat and tapped experimentally on the mic. “Hope you had a great afternoon and learned a lot at the Center! Let’s go around the bus. Each person shares one thing they learned from touring the center and talking to the scientists.”

Chu Wanning and Mo Ran moved down the narrow aisles of the bus; Chu Wanning murmured quiet apologies as they bumped into people on the way back to their seat and ducked down in order to not block the others’ view of the leader speaking at the front.

By the time they’d reached their seat, halfway to the back, Chu Wanning’s complexion was ashen and the tips of his ears were burning. He sat in his seat, back rigidly upright as he flipped through his copious notes.

When it was his turn to share, Chu Wanning kept to one thing as requested, “It takes a few hundred pounds of cherries to make one pound of concentrate. Very impressive.”

The leader, used to Chu Wanning’s curt replies, briefly thanked him before moving on to Mo Ran’s sharing. “So many scientists working day in and day out to perfect the formulas, the product must be good! And it was amazing how clean they kept the machines, wearing those white cover suits!”

“Thank you Chu-laoshi, Mo Ran for your sharing! It’s important to keep in mind how many people we have supporting us in this business. This is only one of our many labs that we have across the globe, all working for you.” The leader beamed at the group. “Remember, you are a business owner! These people all work for you.”

Most everyone nodded in agreement. One person in the back shouted, “Go Diamond!”

The leader’s smile brightened at the call. “Yes, keep your eyes on the prize! Go Diamond!”

The bus filled with cheers and applause. The sharing continued until they reached the small plaza where the San Diego classroom was. A car was idling there, waiting for them to arrive.

Everyone trailed out of the bus, milling around.

“Welcome to San Diego! Class is in half an hour, so we brought you dinner!” Their San Diego liaison called out after she opened up the trunk of her car where all the takeout dinners lay. She had two younger women with her who immediately scooped out a few cartons each. They followed along after her as she walked through the throng.

“Beef or chicken?” She asked the expressionless man in white.

Chu Wanning looked over at the plain Styrofoam boxes and sighed. “Beef, please.”

One of the assistants handed him a pair of disposable chopsticks, a napkin, and the meal. He accepted the items and stood there for a moment before unwrapping the chopsticks and opening up the box.

Just as expected. Beef stir fry. Nothing special or interesting—he mechanically worked through the box, hovering at the end of the group. Some of them were sitting on the curb, some of them leaned against the stairwell banisters. Many of them were chatting with their compatriots while others peered fixedly down at their phones.

He idly scanned the group, eye catching on a figure, tall even though he was sitting down. Mo Ran was nearly shoulder to shoulder with Shi Mingjing of course. When wasn’t he?

Mo Ran was winking his dimpled smile at Shi Mingjing who answered back composedly, but with a slight curvature to his lips. Chu Wanning turned his gaze sharply away. It was no business of his what Mo Ran spent his free time doing.

Chu Wanning stared into his food and didn’t look up until the box was completely empty and the group leader called them all to gather.

“Say welcome to our friends who visited from so far away! How was the Center?”

“Great!” the group shouted back, mostly in unison.

“See how enthusiastic they are? It’s easy to forget what a gem we have in our own backyard, class.” The leader smiled even as her sharp gaze prickled a few of her group who had not yet gone to the Center themselves. “They’ve come thousands of miles to visit the Center!”

Chu Wanning tried to pay attention, but unlike the classes on nutrition or products where the point was imparting knowledge in the most understandable and effective fashion, these more conceptual classes circled around and repeated ideas quite often. One only needed one sentence out of five to get the overall point.

Everyone standing up around him and erupting in applause shook him out of his reverie. Thankfully, he reacted fairly quickly and stood up only a few moments after everyone else. His pen rolled onto the floor and to the row in front of him.

He had the urge to drop to the ground and search for his pen but kept standing and clapping with the rest of the crowd.

“Welcome to the Taiwanese Diamond, Luo Ya-Jie!” A well-dressed lady entered the classroom amidst the thunderous applause.

She bowed gracefully to the crowd once she had arrived onto the stage.

“Thank you, my fellow brothers and sisters from San Diego. I’m very glad to meet you all today.”

Like she’d given an invisible signal, the whole group immediately sat back down. Chu Wanning’s hand twitched, lacking the familiar weight of the pen in his hand. It was likely that this leader’s introduction wouldn’t be critical to write down, but…

A hand discretely stretched out from the row in front of him, proffering the pen in question. Chu Wanning stared at it, stupefied for a moment, before quickly snatching it from Mo Ran’s outstretched hand.

Though he wrote as many notes as he usually did, every so often that evening, Chu Wanning’s gaze would drift to the tousled hair of the youth in front of him, resting there for a moment before quickly darting back down to his lap.

When the crowd dispersed to form circles for sharing, Chu Wanning found a chance to hiss “Thanks” at Mo Ran as they folded up the chairs. After a startled look, Mo Ran flashed him a mild smile in return and waved off his words before dipping his head back down to listen to a quiet comment from his Shi Mei.

Chu Wanning could feel the corner of his mouth twitch reflexively.

Ignoring it, he went to join the circle for after-class sharing.

They sat together on the bus again on the way to the hotel for the night. Shi Mingjing, being a higher-level leader, was conferring with the liaison from the San Diego classroom to continue making arrangements for the days ahead.

Chu Wanning stared out the window at the passing scenery as if in a daze.

It was already nearing midnight and it’d been a full day. He reviewed some of the information that he’d learned from the Center, referring to the notebook on his lap, slotting it into the normal presentation he had for the demonstrations. The piece about how many pounds of material had to be used to make one pound of concentrate, the detail about the bug zappers on the vent, the cleanliness on the shop floor, all of that could be mentioned in the beginning when introducing the brand.

As he ruminated, his eyes eventually fluttered shut, his head lolling on the cold glass window and one arm across his chest for warmth.

Mo Ran, used to Chu Wanning’s need to decompress after lessons—goodness knows he’d tried to strike up a conversation before after a class and had only gotten verbally lashed for it—stayed quiet until he heard the thunk of Chu Wanning’s head on the glass. He turned towards his seatmate, noticing the pale slender hand resting on top of the notebook. That hand looked like it was carved from jade, smooth and well-formed.

The streetlights as they moved down the highway cast Chu Wanning’s face in stark shadows and highlights. Those brows, often furrowed when their owner was awake, were smoothed out in sleep. He seemed gentler, more human. The absence of the ever-present almost-frown on his face was startling.

Every time there was a patch of light on Chu Wanning’s face, those eyelids would flicker and his eyebrows would begin to scrunch up. After noticing this cycle a few times, Mo Ran carefully leaned over the still figure, lifting Chu Wanning’s head up from where it was pressed to the window in order to draw the curtains closed. Many of the other people in the bus were already in dreamland and the bus, so loud during the day, was full of the quiet snuffles and breathing of the exhausted. The bus fell into darkness; Mo Ran carefully sat back into his seat.

He shifted a little, casting a glance up to the front where Shi Mei was haloed in the only light in the bus. Shi Mei was probably arranging things for the conference again. Shi Mei really was an amazing person…

Suddenly, there was a heavy thud next to him. Mo Ran whipped his head around, then used the light from his phone to see if something fell on the floor. There it was—Chu Wanning’s pen and notebook. He scrunched his large form into the space between the seats and, with a little difficulty, managed to fish the two items off the floor with the help of his phone flashlight. He closed the notebook softly and tucked both of them into the seat pocket in front of Chu Wanning.

In the short time that he’d been looking around in the dark, Chu Wanning had tucked his arm closer and moved instinctually as if to curl into a fetal position, but one of his legs stayed on the floor—the bus seat was too small to fully cradle a full-grown man. Despite not being able to fit on the seat, he seemed to emanate an air of frailty in the dim light of Mo Ran’s phone. Mo Ran’s gaze stayed on the curled-up form for a moment, then he decisively turned back to the front and lost himself in Shi Mei’s lit up figure.

When Chu Wanning woke up the next day, no one else was in the room anymore. Two message notifications showed on his lock screen. He unlocked his phone to read them.

Mo Ran: We went to the restaurant downstairs for breakfast! It’s not as good as Chinatown breakfast, but it seems okay!

Shi Mei: The conference starts at 9.

Chu Wanning walked out of the room as he choked down the last dregs of what the hotel tried to pass off as “English Breakfast Tea”—low quality residue was what it was. It didn’t deserve the name of tea. In his other hand, he held a cup of slightly coffee-flavored—even running water through the machine twice couldn’t clear the taste—hot black sesame beverage. He wouldn’t be able to get a proper Chinese breakfast in these conditions, but at least the beverage provided a sense of familiarity.

He referenced the conference program as he entered the elevator with a curt nod at all the others who were there to attend the conference; they were easily recognizable by their business casual dress.

When he walked into the restaurant, his eyes immediately locked on the figure of Mo Ran casually slouching in the bench seat as his eyes were curved up in a smile, fixed on the person next to him. Shi Mingjing spotted Chu Wanning as he was approaching, serenely greeting him with a “Good morning, how did you sleep?”

“Okay.” Chu Wanning responded before following up with the required response. “And you?”

“Very well.” Shi Mingjing took another sip of his hot tea. “Sit down. It’s American, but they do have tea.”

Chu Wanning took the seat across from the two of them, putting down his already drained cup of hot sesame drink.

By the time that Chu Wanning’s plain breakfast of oatmeal, fruit, and hot water with lemon had arrived, it was already 8:15. Shi Mingjing stood up, Mo Ran making an aborted attempt to follow before Shi Mingjing pressed him back down on the shoulder.

“I have to meet with the San Diego leader.” He explained as he packed his bag. “I’ll see you at 9.” Shi Mingjing glided away, leaving Mo Ran sitting there with Chu Wanning.

Mo Ran fiddled with the napkins as he waited for Chu Wanning to finish up his breakfast; Chu Wanning powered through the food so quickly that there was little chance he was tasting it.

Chu Wanning’s silverware clattered decisively to the table right after he finished. “Pay. Then go.” He stood up and pivoted, then marched over to the cashier.

Mo Ran chased after him. “Hey, wait for me!” He reached Chu Wanning in the middle of listing what he’d eaten. The cashier was dutifully typing each item into the register as she peered at the written order slip.

They each paid for their own meals, then made their way towards the conference hall.

Once Mo Ran and Chu Wanning got off the escalator, they walked into a sea of people. There was little to distinguish the mass of faces except for the signs held by the overseas groups which displayed the flags of their country of origin.

Mo Ran opened up a path to the registration booth for the both of them, hand firmly locked on Chu Wanning’s wrist. “It’ll be hard to find you in this crowd,” he explained with a sheepish head scratch and embarrassed cough.

Chu Wanning was too overwhelmed by the atmosphere and the—to him—cacophony, to mind such small matters at this point. The press of people assaulted his senses and he felt more and more like retreating back to his room was the better option. It was hard to remember why he promised Shi Mingjing to come to this ruckus in the first place.

Mo Ran handled the entire registration process neatly for the two of them and then continued to tow Chu Wanning to where Shi Mei had told the group to meet. On the way there, he happened to glance back at the man who had remained silent this whole time—only then did he notice the ashen cast of the other’s face. “Are you okay?”

Chu Wanning snapped out of his daze and retorted indignantly, “Of course, I am.” The slight haziness still in his eyes was the only indication that he hadn’t fully recovered; if Mo Ran hadn’t had his gaze pinned on the elder, he would’ve missed it.

Chu Wanning continued, “Let’s go meet them. We’re running late already.” His expressionless face made it seem like the delay had nothing to do with how the receptionist had needed to ask him for his information multiple times.

Chastised and knowing that Chu Wanning would shut down further inquiry, Mo Ran merely lowered his head and led them over to the meeting spot, his footsteps faster than before.

Shi Mei greeted them with a wave as they approached, “We were just about to start the sharing. Come, come.”

Once they’d gathered in the circle, Shi Mei began, “We’ve arrived at the conference today, it’s a grand occasion and we in the United States need to be grateful that Laoshi favors us and hosts such large events most frequently in this country. The Crown Ambassadors hope that we succeed here and create a beautiful future for our families and friends, spreading the word of great solutions that help people and creating business opportunities for those we meet. With that, let’s go around in a circle. What’s the one thing that you’re looking forward to learning at the conference this time?”

When it came around to Chu Wanning, he kept his answer short, “I most look forward to learning the way to better help even more people.” He glanced over at Mo Ran and added silently. I want to be a good example to you.

Mo Ran, sensing Wanning’s heavy gaze, flashed a smile back as if in encouragement. Chu Wanning immediately turned his head away.

Laoshi and all the other Crown Ambassadors entered the room to grand fanfare. Triumphant music played loudly over the speakers as everyone in the crowd stood up and cheered. Chu Wanning had never seen the like—the clamor made him wince minutely and he dodged more than one elbow from an enthusiastic attendee looking to get a better view of the entering speakers.

The furrow in his brow only relaxed once everyone had once again returned to their seats and the high-level speakers began to lecture.

About an hour in, Mo Ran dug into his bag and dug out a few snacks. “Here, if you’re hungry,” his dimpled smile was a balm to the soul amidst the lecturer’s sometimes dry discussion of “how to better build rapport with strangers”. Chu Wanning quietly accepted the snack, his gaze flicking away from Mo Ran and back to his page of notes when he saw Mo Ran handing Shi Mingjing some as well.

The days of the conference melded together—lectures during the day, sharing circles at night until 11pm or as late as 2am, waking up at 7am to have breakfast and start the cycle all over again. It was often easier to eat bars and dry foods instead of fighting with all the other groups to get a good spot at the restaurants nearby.

However, when their last night came around, Mo Ran decided on going out to enjoy the food in San Diego. Since Shi Mei was one of the original downlines in their home city, he was invited to stay back to learn more from the different laoshis who had gathered for the convention. Chu Wanning, who had already opted out of the extra session Shi Mei and Mo Ran had attended, was probably in the hotel room. Regardless, Mo Ran still fired out a text message to him.

Mo Ran: Chu-laoshi! Did you eat already?

Chu Wanning: You finished?

Mo Ran: Yes! *excited husky emoji*

There was a pause in the conversation.

Mo Ran continued: Did you want to grab a late dinner?

Chu Wanning: You go ahead.

Mo Ran: But…

Chu Wanning: Go, I already ate.

Mo Ran, thus rebuffed, didn’t insist any more. He pulled up Yelp and scrolled through until he found a likely spot with good reviews, then went.

After a good meal and way too many beers and some wine, Mo Ran fumbled with his phone. His fingers clumsily poked the screen.

“Shi Mei? Shi Mei?” Mo Ran slurred as call connected.

There was a palpable silence over the line, “Mo Ran?”

“Shi Mei… Pear—hic—blossom wine… So good… You should’ve come.”

There was a longer silence this time, though Mo Ran didn’t have the presence of mind to notice it.

“Where are you?”

Mo Ran didn’t answer, just looked at his phone with a dopey grin on his face, gaze unfocused.

“Where are you?”

“Shi Mei…”

“Where are you?!” The thunk of Mo Ran’s phone and hand on the bar countertop and the tinny frantic voice over the phone were enough to bring the bartender over to Mo Ran.

“Sir, your friend is at the Wuchang Bar.”

“Who is this?”

“I’m the bartender at the Wuchang Bar.”

“I’ll be there.”

A mere ten minutes later, a flustered looking man dressed in white burst into the bar. He looked around frantically, eyes locking on the tall figure slumped down at the bar counter.

“Sir?” The bartender called out to the man. Those eyes snapped to him immediately and the bartender shrunk back slightly at the fierce look. The man’s gaze softened.

“I’m the friend he called.”

“Ah, Shi Mei?”

The man in white flinched but didn’t respond immediately. After a pause, he grunted in seeming assent.

“He’s in bad shape. It’s better if you take him home.” The bartender suggested gingerly. This man seemed pretty touchy but getting patrons out of the bar and back to their own houses was more important—better for them, less liability for the bar.

The man pulled the drunk’s arm over his shoulder and staggered a bit before he found his footing and the correct balance of weight. The drunkard was a little taller than the other, so his feet did drag somewhat on the floor, but they slowly made their way out of the bar where a taxi was waiting.

“Shi Mei… Shi Mei…” Mo Ran murmured as he was moved. Chu Wanning’s face froze into a tense mask.

“Don’t let him vomit in my car.” The taxi driver mentioned gruffly as Chu Wanning deposited the deadweight onto the backseat of the car.

“Mm.” Chu Wanning affirmed, his hand cradling Mo Ran’s head carefully to prevent Mo Ran from bumping into anything.

The two sat in the back seat, Mo Ran’s head lolling on Chu Wanning’s shoulder. The warm weight was surprisingly comforting even though a small spike of panic constricted Chu Wanning’s chest whenever Mo Ran’s head threatened to slip. His right hand hovered in front of Mo Ran, ready to catch him if he jerked forward.

“You know…?” Mo Ran murmured.

Reflexively, Chu Wanning hmm’d in reply.

“… you’re… the best.” Mo Ran finished, a beatific smile blossoming over his face.

Chu Wanning’s heart stopped. Was that—?

“Shi M—” Mo Ran slurred, then coughed as he was cut off by a speed bump.

Chu Wanning patted Mo Ran’s back gingerly, trying to soothe him. Worried about the sanctity of his car, the taxi driver shot them a quick glare, then drove faster. Mo Ran lurched forward like a limp ragdoll, still out of it, and was only barely pulled back from hitting the back of the front passenger’s seat by Chu Wanning’s quick reflexes.

The next morning, when Mo Ran woke up in the room he shared with Chu Wanning and Shi Mei, he found a glass of water and some hangover remedy pills laying on a napkin on the nightstand. He could hear the quiet sound of water from the bathroom sink as someone finished brushing their teeth or washing their hands. A moment later, Shi Mei stepped out from the restroom, already dressed for the day.

“A’Ran, good morning.” He greeted, customary soft smile on his radiant face.

“Shi Mei, good morning.” Mo Ran replied, beaming back. “Thanks for bringing me back here to the room yesterday.” He swung his legs down from the bed, searching for his house slippers, missing the confusion that flashed across Shi Mei’s countenance.

By the time he looked up again, Shi Mei was sporting a placid smile yet again as he walked over to the curtains. “Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough.” Mo Ran grinned. Waking up to Shi Mei’s presence seemed to drive the lingering vestiges of a headache away.

As Shi Mei opened up the curtains to let in the morning light, Mo Ran blurted out, “Shi Mei, you’re the best—you know that?”

Shi Mei turned back to Mo Ran, lit up in the bright morning sun. He walked over and gave Mo Ran a gentle squeeze of the shoulder, as if in acknowledgement, then gestured towards the pile of breakfast snacks on the table. “Eat up. Class starts soon.”

Mo Ran happily complied.

Chapter Text

Not much changed after they came back from the convention. Chu Wanning kept on hosting nutrition classes, Mo Ran continued bringing in customers with his smile and words, Shi Mingjing looked over them with a smile, leaving them alone to continue developing for the most part though he would remind Chu Wanning sometimes to develop his own customers outside of those brought in by Mo Ran.

Mo Ran sometimes favored Chu Wanning with a new customer, insisting that Mo Ran himself wasn’t capable of being the distributor for certain people, that they’d rather acquire their products from someone quieter like Chu Wanning. Chu Wanning would protest mightily against Mo Ran’s assertions that anyone liked himself rather than the younger man, but Mo Ran would look at him and forlornly claim that he wasn’t able to help those people and that if Chu Wanning refused, that person would simply be left without supplements that could possibly turn their health around.

It left a sweet yet sour taste in Chu Wanning’s mouth. Sweet because Mo Ran seemed to do this only with customers who lived close to Chu Wanning and those who deeply believed in the proper role of supplements—to support an already healthy lifestyle and diet. Sour because Mo Ran was probably doing it out of pity or perhaps so that he could help Shi Mingjing build Chu Wanning’s group up to be able to achieve Platinum status year round.

They’d developed a certain routine, having done many afternoons of demonstrations to prospects together. As a thank you to Chu Wanning for doing the demonstrations—and also to make sure that Chu Wanning ate a proper meal—Mo Ran would often stay an extra hour after escorting the prospect out and cook something simple to serve as lunch for two.

When he’d first proposed the idea, Chu Wanning vehemently protested—“Don’t you have something else to do?”—but after claiming that he was so hungry that going back home would lead him to expiring on the road and pleading “please, Chu-laoshi, can I cook something here to hold me over?”, Chu Wanning’s “do as you wish” had served as begrudging permission.

Despite the lack of variety in the fridge and cupboard, Mo Ran, having worked for so long at Chu Wanning’s only takeout spot, was already familiar with Chu-laoshi’s particular tastes. Frozen vegetables and a tub of tofu weren’t a ton of variety, but Xue Zhengyong’s previously untouched holiday gift of a spice rack finally proved its worth.

From then on, outside of the bounds of the restaurant, Mo Ran experimented a little with the flavors, finding that Chu Wanning adored lotus roots with osmanthus glaze—by that, he meant that Chu Wanning’s eyes had brightened the one time he tried making this dish and that Chu-laoshi hadn’t put down his chopsticks at all during that meal. The gruff “thank you” Chu Wanning muttered was the same as always, but the dish, completely picked clean besides one last lotus root slice, was a clear sign of a winning dish.

Another discovery was Chu Wanning’s excitement over sweet and sour dishes. Mo Ran took to making additional servings of sweet and sour sauce and keeping the extra in a jar in Chu Wanning’s refrigerator. Though ostensibly there to add flavor when Chu Wanning deigned to cook, that welcome occasion happened so rarely that it was more like an easy flavoring that Mo Ran could use when ingredients or time was limited.

Warmth bloomed in Mo Ran’s chest every time he saw Chu Wanning tuck into another one of his dishes, face expressionless, but chopsticks quick to action.

Eventually, spurred on by the gentle reminders of Shi Mei to build both depth and breadth in his network in the form of a distributor team and direct customers, Mo Ran even managed to bring someone to the Monday business classes.

Ye Wangxi observed the photos framed on the classroom walls silently as Mo Ran enthusiastically introduced the background of each picture. Eventually, even Mo Ran’s seemingly inexhaustible energy flagged after a few minutes of non-response from his new recruit.

They sat down next to a quiet Chu Wanning in the front row. He looked up as they sat down, Ye Wangxi with silent grace and Mo Ran with a slight disappointed slump to his tall frame.

Ye Wangxi introduced herself before Mo Ran had a chance to compose himself, “I’m Ye Wangxi.”

Chu Wanning nodded in reply, “Chu Wanning. Welcome.”

They sat there in peaceful harmony as Mo Ran fretted on the other side of Ye Wangxi. This was the first person he’d brought into the business class and Shi Mei had emphasized the necessity of warming prospects up to the idea of recognition and money and all the other benefits to the business. Ye Wangxi was much more inclined to non-responses than his prior customers; it was much easier to pull someone in with small talk, pinpoint their health issues or problems, promise a solution, plop them in front of Chu Wanning with his near-magical demonstrations, and just let that do the convincing.

This downline thing seemed to be more complex than that.

The different pieces of advice from the teachers at the conference bounced around in Mo Ran’s mind, further casting him into confusion. Shi Mei had told him to clear his mind and to just rinse and repeat what the teachers suggested, but the steps were simultaneously simple but deep. There were apparently endless substeps to the instruction of “be a good leader that others want to follow”.

While Mo Ran stewed in all the disjointed directives, Ye Wangxi had asked Chu Wanning about an idle sketch she’d spotted in his open notebook.

“What’s that drawing of?”

Chu Wanning lifted his gaze to the new person. “Prosthetics.”

After seeing an interested gleam in Ye Wangxi’s eye, he continued. With his mechanical pencil, he pointed at the different parts. “The dog had an issue with sideways motion; I changed to a different joint design.”

“Does the new joint work better?”

“The part hasn’t arrived yet.”

The two continued, discussing intricacies of prosthetics design and the different methods of fine-tuning until the start of the lesson as Mo Ran listened besides them in mounting despair. Shi Mei had told him to promote the business prior to the class, but Ye Wangxi’s longest conversation had nothing to do with the business at all.

Somehow, despite this, Ye Wangxi came to the next few classes, always choosing to sit next to Chu Wanning.

Mo Ran chalked it up as a strange stroke of luck and added Ye Wangxi to a new Wechat group for his downlines.

Only a few days after that, Chu Wanning had a chance to go and test out some of the fine-tuning ideas that he had discussed with Ye Wangxi. She had been incredibly detailed in her commentary on his design—he’d tinkered with the final product for the last few days to improve it, but what really mattered was how the dog took to the alterations.

Chu Wanning let himself into the clinic, the back door slipping closed with a quiet snick behind him.

He’d gotten a call about the newest rescue—a black lab mix who needed a prosthetic to get back on her feet. On his way to the cages, he picked up a few treats from the jar near the door.

As he quickly examined each cage, the new dogs, not yet resigned to their fate and also less used to their environment, snuffled at him curiously, eagerly; a few in the corner barked madly at this new stranger in their space. He slowly made his rounds, letting the more excitable ones sniff at his hand. As he made his way around the room, he searched for the black lab mix.

He found her after nearly going through all the cages. Vanilla—one of the workers at the clinic had a strange sense of humor—stared at him warily from the back corner of her cage. She’d been picked up at the side of the road, fur matted with blood and one limb crushed beyond repair, the victim of a hit-and-run accident. The chief veterinarian of the clinic had quickly determined that her leg was unsalvageable and later called Chu Wanning with the details on her height, weight, and other particulars.

“Vanilla,” Chu Wanning called out softly, crouching in front of the cage to make himself less intimidating.

Vanilla snuffled a little, still scrunched up in the far corner. Chu Wanning stared into her watery eyes, trying to somehow let her know he meant no harm.

“Come on,” he coaxed, waving a treat, “don’t you want this?”

She sniffed the air. After some time volunteering with dogs, Chu Wanning had learned that a dog’s favorite treat was a crucial bit of information to ask for from the clinic staff; the veterinarian had told his best bet was the rawhide bone.

He poked a corner of the bone through the bars of the cage and waited.

And waited.

And waited until Vanilla began to inch her way towards the front of the cage, clearly still unused to having one less limb.

She’d almost reached the bone when a loud bang startled both man and dog. Chu Wanning fell backwards onto the floor, bone dropping to the floor; Vanilla shriveled back up into a quivering ball.

“Hey, Tangtang! Glad to see me?” A young man’s enthusiastic voice could be heard through the cacophony of barking which had ensued after the main door to the clinic had been flung open.

By the time Chu Wanning had snapped out of his daze, the dogs had quieted down a lot; it was likely that some had been bribed with treats.

“Oh?” The man approached Chu Wanning who was still sitting on the floor. “Hey, you new?”

Chu Wanning scrambled up from his undignified sprawl, grabbed the fallen treat, and kept his head down while dusting himself off. Only when he’d composed himself did he look up and acknowledge the youth with a nod. “Chu Wanning—I do prosthetics for the dogs.”

The other beamed back, “That’s amazing! I’m Nangong Si; everyone calls me A’Si.”

“A’Si…” Chu Wanning trailed off, it felt strange to be so informal to a stranger. “Are you a new volunteer?”

“Yeah,” Nangong Si jangled the leash in his hand, “I help walk them on the weekends and some weekdays. Been coming for a few weeks now. How long have you been doing prosthetics?”

“A few years.” Chu Wanning glanced back at Vanilla; she was still curled up, small with fear. He crouched back down. “She was scared by your entrance.”

Nangong Si crouched down, too—shamefaced. “Oh, I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off before digging into his pocket and bringing out a doggie biscuit. He shot a quick glance at the nametag on the cage. “Vanilla?”

Her body kept trembling.

He grimaced, then heaved a great sigh and sat down on the floor; it was clear that Vanilla would need more time to recover from her fright.

“I’m sorry.” He said to her, to Chu Wanning. To his credit, he did sound genuinely apologetic.

He reached out to her, speaking in a gentle tone, hand outstretched to request a sniff. “Vanilla…”

“Vanilla…” He repeated her name—slowly, patiently, tenderly.

After some time, she looked up at the two of them tentatively; her eyes were wary, but the crippling fear seemed to have receded. Chu Wanning offered her the bone again and after a moment of hesitation, she veered away from the doggie biscuit Nangong Si was offering and gave the rawhide a lick.

Chu Wanning’s other hand inched towards the latch of the cage, not wanting to spook her again. The latch gave with a soft metallic sound and the door swung open. Chu Wanning gave her the rawhide which she began to eagerly attack after a few testing licks.

As she slobbered happily over the bone—thoroughly distracted from the shock of Nangong Si’s entrance—Nangong Si coughed lightly in embarrassment. “Dogs usually love me.” He tucked the biscuit back into his pocket.

“The vet said that she preferred rawhide.”

Nangong Si let out a short huff of laughter, “I probably didn’t impress her, treats aside.”

Chu Wanning gazed back at him, only responding with a brief furrow of his brows. He scooted closer to the cage, soothingly stroking Vanilla on the back. She glanced back at him once, then accepted the pats as her due and went back to gnawing on the bone.

“Sorry about earlier, I was just too excited. It’s been a week since I last came.” He scratched his head sheepishly. “I didn’t realize I was going to be so loud.”

Not getting much of a reply, he barreled onwards, “Chu Wanning, was it? Do you come often? I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I design at home.”

“Ah.”

Nangong Si quieted down, casting a look at Chu Wanning’s hand, which was still caressing the fur on Vanilla’s back. He lifted a hand to Vanilla’s nose which she ignored since the rawhide was infinitely more enticing. Tentatively, he stretched out and started petting her as well.

The next few minutes were quiet. Just the sound of Vanilla enjoying her treat, the feeling of her soft fur under their palms.

Chu Wanning’s frosty attitude towards Nangong Si began to thaw. Anyone who was patient with dogs couldn’t be that terrible of a person. His abrupt entrance in the beginning was likely just a mistake and not a sign of anything else.

“I come in when they need prosthetics fitted or are due for a checkup.” He offered as an olive branch. “Vanilla is the only one who came in recently.”

Nangong Si’s smile brightened back up now that Chu Wanning seemed willing to talk to him.

“Oh, does that mean you’ve prepared one for her?”

Chu Wanning nodded, placing the prosthetic in front of them. “It’s ready to be fitted.”

Nangong Si’s eyes sparkled as he peppered Chu Wanning with questions.

By the time that Vanilla was finally able to wobble about on all four legs, Nangong Si had already extracted Chu Wanning’s phone number and added him as a friend on WeChat.

By the time Vanilla was confidently prancing around the clinic, Chu Wanning could finally consider Nangong Si as someone worth knowing.

Chapter Text

The boss called Shi Mei over right when he came into the door. “Just to confirm, you weren’t going to make it to the restaurant next week?”

“Did I do something wrong? I thought I had requested the days off enough in advance.” Shi Mei answered back, only the slight movements of his fingers betraying his nervousness.

“I needed to make sure whether I had to call someone extra in next week.” The boss tipped his head back down, pressing a few buttons on his phone. “I’ll just call in Qiutong.”

Shi Mei stood there, unsure if he was dismissed or not before the boss looked up in slight irritation. “What are you still doing there? The restaurant is about to open. Get ready!”

Shi Mei ducked his head down and walked quickly to the back. He quickly hung up his jacket and prepared for work. He walked through the kitchen on the way to the front and greeted Mo Ran with his customary smile.

“Hey, Shi Mei,” Mo Ran looked up at him, hands in the sink, surrounded by the vegetables that needed to be washed for the day. “I heard Boss say that you’d be out next week?”

“Mhm,” Shi Mei responded, “The Executive Platinum vacation is next week.”

“When do you fly out?”

“Wednesday.”

Mo Ran pursed his lips. Though he didn’t say anything more, the cast of his face radiated a level of unease and dissatisfaction. “It’s in Los Angeles?”

“Yes, it seems like they might book out Disneyland for us on one of the nights.” Shi Mei admitted softly, a smile unconsciously spreading across his face.

Mo Ran grimaced down at the napa cabbage floating in the water. His friend was finally getting to go to a Executive vacation and it sounded amazing; he should be happy. “Ah, Shi Mei, I’m so jealous!” He laughed—he almost hid all the notes of bitterness.

Shi Mei didn’t point out the smile that didn’t reach Mo Ran’s eyes, only gently encouraged him, “You can do it, too.”

Mo Ran felt a coldness in his chest. His best friend, Shi Mei, leaving him behind, like all the others. “What do I need to do?”

“Just follow Laoshi’s teachings. Tap into the outside market. Establish a few more lines.” His peach blossom eyes were alluring, curved into slight crescents, “The more people you bring in, the more likely that you’ll find someone who will make it in the business. Remember, Mo Ran, it’s just a numbers game.”

He swept away to his post after that—the restaurant was about to open for business—leaving Mo Ran at the sink still, hands mechanically washing the rest of the vegetables as he stared blankly into the water.

It’s just a numbers game.

It was a little more than a week before Shi Mei finally arrived back at the classroom. He’d been sending lively photos to Mo Ran the whole time while Mo Ran bathed in happiness and jealousy. No one else got so many photos which established Mo Ran’s position in Shi Mei’s life. Shi Mei had lots of friends, but only one best friend—Mo Ran. Shi Mei deserved all the accolades and the luxury treatment and Mo Ran had never seen Shi Mei smile so widely before. It was like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

At the same time though, Mo Ran’s grin did become a bit stiff when Shi Mei sent him an excited minute-long video showcasing the theme park shut down just for the company group. Mo Ran had never had the chance to visit Disneyworld or Disneyland before, but Disney with no lines didn’t even seem possible! It was mind-boggling what the company could offer as a perk. He wanted to bask in Shi Mei’s delighted smile. He wanted to show Shi Mei the different rides. He wanted to do all of that, but he was stuck here in the same place as always—cooking, washing, and cleaning at the restaurant.

Suffice it to say, Mo Ran was amongst the happiest ones when a glowing Shi Mei strode into the classroom that night. “Shi Mei!” He exclaimed, claiming the other in an impromptu hug.

Shi Mei, startled probably, didn’t hug back immediately, but after a moment, his hands also tentatively pressed down on Mo Ran’s back. “A’Ran…” His voice was as soft as a flower petal drifting off of a tree.

Mo Ran squeezed tighter, “I’m so glad you’re back! Tell me all about your trip!”

Shi Mei chuckled, his laughter like the tinkle of cascading bells—pleasant to the ear, chiming sweetly and melodiously. “You know I’m sharing today about the trip.”

“I know.” Mo Ran gave him one last squeeze before letting go. But I want you to tell me the details, not the scrubbed summary you share with the rest of them.

“Dinner at my place on Tuesday?” He gave Shi Mei his best puppy-dog look from a scant 1 foot away.

“I need to call my brother then.” Shi Mei smiled apologetically. “Maybe some other ti—”

“Lunch on Tuesday.” Mo Ran cut in.

Shi Mei’s expression turned indulgent with a tinge of exasperation. “Okay, A’Ran. Lunch on Tuesday.” He turned to the back of the room where the audio system was and signaled the person there to start up the intro music.

Mo Ran walked back to his front row seat, floating on air. Lunch on Tuesday. It was only a day away.

The next day, Mo Ran pulled out all the stops—a welcome back needed to be grand!—making a delectable bowl of hand-pulled noodles soaking in milky white broth that he’d worked on since 6 in the morning. The broth was liberally speckled with chili oil and generously topped with beef and napa cabbage.

Shi Mei smiled at his offering and thanked him in his own soft way. Mo Ran twinkled back in delight, eyes sparkling.

“How was the trip really?”Mo Ran asked him, as he refilled Shi Mei’s teacup.

Shi Mei looked at him, “You were there yesterday, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but that was just stories that you told to the class. How was the day-to-day? What did you think of the whole thing?” Mo Ran gazed at him eagerly, earnestly digging for a play-by-play retelling of the whole trip, it seemed.

“It was amazing. It’s hard to put into words how it was.” Shi Mei paused. “If you wanted to know, then go—come with me next year.”

“Me? Executive?” Mo Ran exclaimed, taken aback.

“You. Executive with me.” Shi Mei responded, his voice a comforting weighty velvet. “I believe in you.”

Mo Ran’s had never really thought past getting to Platinum; Shi Mei had set him that goal and he’d just chased after it, like a dog fetching a bone.

“I can?” He repeated again, still reeling in surprise.

“You can.”

Mo Ran withdrew, sitting back into his chair in a daze. “Me. Executive.”

Shi Mei offered him a smile and continued to eat, allowing the idea to sink in.

It was a minute or two before Mo Ran spoke again, “How?”

“Remember what I said about listening to Laoshi?”

Mo Ran nodded immediately.

“I gave you that booklet of lessons and stories from Laoshi months ago. Did you read it?”

Mo Ran scratched his head and coughed, embarrassed.

“Read it. Memorize it.” Shi Mei’s eyes glowed with the enthusiasm of a true believer. “Use Laoshi’s words instead of your own. Successful people have their reasons for success.”

The conviction, the power in Shi Mei’s voice seemed to blossom like a flower.

“Be simple and just copy them. Their success will be your success.” Shi Mei held Mo Ran’s gaze for another half a beat before a mild smile gentled his eyes into their normal softness.

Shi Mei’s fervor seemed to have rubbed off on Mo Ran. When Chu Wanning saw him at the next day’s class, instead of the usual bright grin that greeted him upon sliding into the front row, Mo Ran had eyes only for the small booklet in his hands. He mouthed each word as his gaze followed the finger that ran across the page.

“Good evening.” Chu Wanning murmured.

Mo Ran kept reading the text, too absorbed in his new subject. A leader is lifted above others’ because they can block the wind and rain.

Be simple in your thinking. Only then can you absorb the secrets of success.

“Mo—” Chu Wanning cut himself off. Clearly Mo Ran was busy. It wouldn’t do to disturb him, but it just felt strange to not be subjected to that resplendent smile that usually was reserved for those sitting in the front row.

Crabs, just like the crowd, will grab onto those who escape the bucket they’re in. Opposition to your new successful thinking is merely jealousy and envy from others.

Chu Wanning peered curiously at Mo Ran, then looked back at his own notes. After a few minutes of silence, Chu Wanning shot Mo Ran another glance. “Good evening.” His tone was firmer, tinged with a hint of entreaty.

“Oh, Chu-laoshi! When did you get here?” Mo Ran raised his head, surprise written across his features.

“Just now. What are you reading?”

“Laoshi’s Golden Words,” Mo Ran replied with a smile. “It’s really very interesting!”

“Oh.” Chu Wanning’s response was monotone.

“Shi Mei told me that I could get to Executive if I followed the teachings written in here!” Mo Ran flipped to the front of the book. “See! This was even signed by Laoshi herself!”

“I see.” Chu Wanning’s tone was bland, “You want to be Executive?”

“Of course!” Mo Ran was radiating enthusiasm. “Don’t you?”

Chu Wanning didn’t reply immediately. His stiff expression relaxed a fraction when he spoke again, “Platinum is enough for me.”

There was a pause before Chu Wanning continued, his next words much warmer, “You can make it to Executive.”

Mo Ran’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“You can do it.” Chu Wanning paused, licked his lips, then continued, “I… believe in you.”

Mo Ran’s mind was blank. Chu Wanning was always so short of words, to the point that though they were definitely on good terms and he knew that the other seemed to not rebuff his presence, it was a shock to hear something this blatantly encouraging.

“You…” Mo Ran trailed off, still a bit stunned.

Chu Wanning swallowed hard. Words weren’t his forte, but Mo Ran seemed to be asking for something that was within his power to give.

“You are enthusiastic. People are drawn to you. You can definitely make it to Executive,” Chu Wanning blurted out all the thoughts he’d been nursing about Mo Ran in one breath. His face was flushed from exertion, with emotion, as he turned his head away slightly to the side. “You could be Diamond.”

Chu Wanning fell silent, words spent, gaze cast to floor besides Mo Ran’s worn sneakers. Mo Ran didn’t say anything for some time and the hubbub of the rest of the classroom faded away into the background. It felt like they were in their own private space, just the two of them.

Chu Wanning could hear Mo Ran’s breaths. Count them as the red flush on his own ears gradually lightened.

Mo Ran sucked in a deep breath, two, perhaps to calm himself, perhaps to ready himself to berate Chu Wanning for some barb that he’d accidentally blurted out in the well-meant words he’d just built up his courage to say.

“Chu-laoshi…” Mo Ran’s voice was soft. “Did you mean all of that?”

Chu Wanning couldn’t look at him yet, just nodded once, head bowed.

“I…” Mo Ran’s voice was as gentle as the spring breeze, “Thank you.”

Chu Wanning shot him a glance in disbelief and was caught by the gentle smile that had spread across Mo Ran’s face.

The tense studiousness that had shrouded Mo Ran before was gone.

In its place was a radiance, a soft relief, a glowing happiness. Chu Wanning couldn’t look away, caught in its beam.

Mo Ran’s eyes twinkled at him, fond, grateful, and happy as Chu Wanning stared at him, mesmerized.

The sharp blare of the intro music tore into their bubble, mercilessly dispersing the tender atmosphere.

With a light cough, Mo Ran turned back to the front. Chu Wanning pursed his lips and followed suit, the warm fondness and companionship of that moment still lingering, tingling in his chest.

It was a few weeks later when Mo Ran brought his new recruit to the front row where Chu Wanning was sitting and introduced her to Chu Wanning. “This is Song Qiutong. She works with me at the restaurant.”

Song Qiutong gave a little demure nod of the head. Chu Wanning nodded politely back.

She sat back in the chair next to Mo Ran, between Chu Wanning and Mo Ran. Her side profile highlighted the beautiful shape of her jawline and the gentle curve of her nose.

“Chu Wanning.” He stuck out his hand for an abrupt handshake.

She paused, as if momentarily confused by the proffered hand, then laughed and accepted. Chu Wanning felt soft skin envelop his calloused fingers, leaving him astonished. This new recruit of Mo Ran’s had a definite future in the Beauty Class. Her peach blossom eyes twinkled at him in merriment.

Chu Wanning withdrew his hand, somewhat rushed. She merely smiled back at him. “Nice to meet you, too.” Her voice seemed to have a naturally coy undertone, despite it being a mundane greeting.

He grimaced at her before turning back to the front of the class, “If you have any questions, feel free to ask.” She nodded in absent agreement.

After that exchange, the two fell silent, unsure of what else to say.

Mo Ran, on the other hand, began describing each of the pictures on the wall, even leading Miss Song to the back of the room to examine the group picture in front of the company factory.

Chu Wanning, still in the front row, resisted the urge to look back to where they’d gone. Mo Ran was only being a good host, a good upline. Class was almost about to start though, didn’t they need to return to their seats?

Sure enough, Mo Ran, caught in the middle of an explanation as Shi Mingjing began introductions on the stage, ended up creeping back to the front row guiding Song Qiutong by the elbow. His large form was folded over, as if to make his figure smaller and the disturbance less noticeable. Seeing this farce when Mo Ran had been properly seated just minutes earlier before Song Qiutong had arrived—Chu Wanning internally scoffed at the sight and his chest burned with irritation.

Mo Ran dipped his head down to whisper something into Song Qiutong’s ear.

She replied back, voice infused with charm.

Ridiculous.

It wasn’t even half a year later when Mo Ran finally reached part of his goal. The classroom stage, ever present at the front of the room, was decorated with a congratulations sign and the encouraging plaques on each side were gleaming, just polished.

The triumphant music brought Shi Mingjing to the stage. “Welcome, today is our platinum ceremony for the first part of the year! It’s wonderful that some of our group have reached this level of achievement.”

The smile that Shi Mingjing bestowed upon the crowd could’ve made birds fall from the sky, fish forget how to swim, Mo Ran mused, gazing at the stage. It felt like the warm summer rain—comforting and refreshing.

A few seats down, Chu Wanning shot his downline a quick glance, immediately turning away when he glimpsed the dazed stupidity on that face.

Truly preposterous, he groused internally.

With a dissatisfied sniff, he read through the sequence of what to say again. It wouldn’t do to freeze on stage. He wouldn’t stand for that happening again.

The situation felt very different when he filed on stage with the other few people who’d reached a new level within the past few months. The distance between the stage and the first row where he’d just been sitting seemed to stretch out; the audience’s applause sounding polite and subdued despite Shi Mingjing’s gentle encouragement.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been on stage previously—goodness knows that he’d been running nutrition classes for over a year, maybe two—but the studious, calm atmosphere of a nutrition class was a far cry from this celebratory affair. One, he could control; the other, he most definitely could not.

When the microphone was passed to him, his hand trembled minutely and he immediately clamped his other hand on the microphone as well to hide it. “I thank Shi Mingjing for bringing me.”

He didn’t even let the echo from his sentence finish before gracefully, of course, passing the microphone over to Mo Ran who stood next to him.

Mo Ran, surprised by Chu Wanning’s abrupt handover of the mic, froze for a beat, before letting out a short huff of laughter. Chu Wanning could see those dimples twinkling in his peripheral vision. He clenched his jaw. Did Mo Ran sense his anxiety on stage?

Mo Ran beamed at the audience, casting a significant glance over to Shi Mingjing as he began. “I’d like to thank Shi Mei and Chu Wanning for bringing me to this environment. If I can do it—” His smile turned somewhat sour in self-mockery, “then you can, too! Go Diamond!” He passed the microphone on.

The applause was much louder this time. Mo Ran was very popular indeed.

The classroom loved to throw parties—Easter parties, Mothers Day, and Father’s Day parties—any excuse to gather everyone together and sing karaoke and mingle while sprinkling in subtle mentions of products that could help the prospects.

Though he’d avoided the Mother’s Day and Father’s Day parties—citing a lack of either parental figure in his life—4th of July, Independence Day, was another matter. Chu Wanning didn’t quite understand the reason behind all the fervor. After all, why should Chinese immigrants celebrate American Independence? Nevertheless, he was pulled into the conversations—nay, forced to—when the sharing a week before the party revolved around the question of how many prospects each person was planning to bring to the July 4th party. Just hearing the question made him cringe.

He could never win at such popularity contests. Even Shi Mei had given up asking about his list of prospects months ago. When it came time for him to speak, he muttered something noncommittal and then simply stayed quiet until they moved onto the next person without forcing him to answer the prompt.

In all honesty, who could he invite? Mo Ran was obviously already invited and the entire Xue family had gleefully tried to drag him along to some mountainside rental house where they planned to relax and enjoy—Xue Zhengyong laughed that it was an easy time to plan a vacation since the shop didn’t even need to close on a normal working day.

Chu Wanning left the classroom that night with no prospect in mind.

He didn’t think of the matter again until he was tinkering with a new prosthetic design a few days later and took the picture of it that Nangong Si had requested. As he sent over the picture over text, he sighed before adding an extra line: “How are you celebrating July 4th?”

He didn’t receive a reply until a while later when he was pinged several times in a row first with confusion, a confirmation that he was free, and a “Why do you ask?”

Faced with a straightforward question, Chu Wanning could only respond back with a: “Party for July 4th.”

They didn’t really know each other that well.

Surprisingly, after extracting the time and location from him, Nangong Si actually agreed to come along.

Why would Nangong Si go to a random party at the classroom with him? Didn’t young people have their own plans and fun? Fun that didn’t include spending time with someone old like he was?

He met Nangong Si at the entrance of the small building where the classroom was. The young man was casually dressed in a polo and slacks and gave him a jaunty wave when Chu Wanning approached the classroom door.

“Good evening, Mr. Chu!”

“Good evening.” Chu Wanning nodded in acknowledgement. Rather than calling Nangong Si by “A’Si” as requested—it was too casual and Chu Wanning wanted to choke a little every time he tried—Chu Wanning had opted to not use any name at all.

“It’s in here.” Chu Wanning opened the door and wove through the familiar path of the hallways. Strains of party music could already be heard as they drew closer and closer. Chu Wanning’s brow furrowed more and more as they walked, why exactly would Nangong Si agree to accompany a near stranger—yes, they had a shared interest in the well-being of dogs—to a holiday party? The confusion roiled in his chest, but he couldn’t form the words to inquire about why.

Chu Wanning pursed his lips as they reached the classroom; the door was propped open and the sound of light laughter and chatter was already apparent.

Nangong Si gave a light laugh. “Seems like it’s already in full swing.”

Chu Wanning “mn’d” in response, eyes already searching for Mo Ran’s visage as an anchor in this sea of faces both familiar and unfamiliar. He made a beeline to where Mo Ran was enthusiastically explaining the photos on the wall.

“And here is the group photo from one of our leader’s epic vacation with the company! See how Disneyland is completely empty? Our company rented the whole place out!” Mo Ran gesticulated wildly, trying to convey how amazing this situation was to the young man beside him whose eyes remained fairly unimpressed with most of the speech, but lit up when Mo Ran mentioned the company’s lavish spending for the sake of the distributors.

“And look over here—! Oh! Chu-laoshi!” Mo Ran broke off from his next explanation to beam at him.

Chu Wanning gave a mild smile back, “Mo Ran.”

He turned towards his guest. “Nangong Si, this is Mo Ran. Mo Ran, Nangong Si.” Introductions done, he fell silent again.

Mo Ran picked up the thread of conversation with ease, “Hello, Nangong Si! It’s the first time you’ve been to the classroom, right? Welcome!”

Nangong Si flashed him a polite smile, clearly used to dealing with people in unfamiliar situations. “Nice to meet you.”

Mo Ran paused a beat, torn between continuing his introduction to his friend and greeting the newcomer Nangong Si. “Ah, Chu-Laoshi, this is Rong Jiu. He’s a hairdresser.” Mo Ran gestured to the svelte youth standing next to him. “Rong Jiu, this is Chu-laoshi, my upline. He’s really good at product demonstrations.”

Mo Ran shifted his gaze to another one of the pictures, pointing out a tiny figure out with his finger. “See! This is Chu-laoshi at the technical center in California. He asked the scientists a lot of questions, so he’s the classroom’s go-to for a lot of information on high-tech and nutritional products.” Mo Ran flashed Chu Wanning a quick grin, dimple twinkling. “Chu-laoshi, you won’t mind helping Rong Jiu out with product questions, right?”

Surprised at the sudden question, Chu Wanning blinked a few times before he was able to answer a curt, “Of course.”

Mo Ran’s smile widened for a brief moment and his eyes seemed to emanate a soft gratitude.

Chu Wanning felt his shoulders relax at that look, then immediately stiffened back up in surprise when a new voice cut into the conversation.

“Chu-laoshi.” Ye Wangxi’s voice rose from the white noise of all the other merry-makers. “Glad you made it.”

“Wangxi.” Chu Wanning nodded at Ye Wangxi.

She cast a glance at Mo Ran who was still standing there, Rong Jiu on one side and Chu Wanning on the other. “Chu-laoshi, did you see the food yet? It’s over here.” She made a fluid turn, guiding Chu Wanning away with Nangong Si trailing behind them.

Mo Ran looked at them, stunned for a moment at their abrupt exit before he shook off his daze and continued to introduce all the photos to Rong Jiu, making sure to focus on the luxury and lifestyle of those who were successful in the business.

Meanwhile, Ye Wangxi had already introduced herself with a curt “Ye Wangxi” to Nangong Si and then changed the subject from food to dogs. “How’s the new compound for the knee joint? Does it provide better cushioning when they walk like you thought?”

Chu Wanning hmm’d back at her, “Results inconclusive so far. Pepper needs some more time on it.”

Nangong Si chimed in, “You work at the clinic, too?”

“Too?” Ye Wangxi shifted her gaze over to Nangong Si. “You work there with Chu-laoshi?”

“I walk the dogs on the weekends and whenever else I’m free.” Faced with Ye Wangxi’s impassive expression, he added hastily, “I’ve been helping out for more than half a year now.”

Ye Wangxi’s tone softened a little. “How did you get started at the clinic?”

Nangong Si launched into a spirited tale about his adoption of his puppy Naobaijin which Ye Wangxi listened to earnestly as Chu Wanning stood to the side.

As they moved down the food line, picking out different dishes, Nangong Si and Ye Wangxi kept the conversation going, discussing the care of puppies, the differences between the breeds, and various training methods—which ones worked and which ones did not. More accurately, Nangong Si enthusiastically spoke at length on each topic as Ye Wangxi provided feedback occasionally and Chu Wanning hmm’d thoughtfully every so often.

The evening passed by quickly.

A few weeks later, Ye Wangxi asked Chu Wanning after nutrition class to teach her how to do one of the experiments one-on-one. The two of them quietly cleared the table at the front as all of the class participants trickled out to get on with the rest of their Saturday plans.

As she set up the cups of white rice on the now-empty table, she spoke suddenly, “Chu-laoshi.”

“Mn?” He straightened up from where he was leaning over the supplies kit, iodine in hand.

“I think that Qiutong might be misleading some of her customers. They seem to think that the supplements are a cure-all.” Ye Wangxi stated matter-of-factly. “I’ve heard them talking about how the garlic supplement cures high blood pressure.”

Chu Wanning furrowed his brows, his silence heavy. He hadn’t paid much attention to Song Qiutong lately, only noticed that she seemed to be bringing more people to the class.

“I’ll keep an eye out.” He promised. “We need to be accurate in our product claims.”

Ye Wangxi nodded back, relieved that he took her concerns seriously. “Even the best supplements cannot cure an unhealthy lifestyle,” she said his catchphrase with a slight smile.

His eyes glinted in approval.

Later that night, he logged into his account on the company website to see if there was any unusual activity in Song Qiutong’s group. The past month or two, order volumes from Song Qiutong’s small group had exploded. She’d brought in quite a few people to class in that time, but the quantity of supplements and other products that were being sold were quite large when divided amongst the customers he was aware of her having. She might have other customers that she didn’t bring to class; he couldn’t jump to conclusions.

He closed out the browser, deep in thought.

In the following weeks, Chu Wanning began to notice that Mo Ran and his downlines were slowly increasing in their presence in the classroom. Though he and Mo Ran used to be the only ones occupying the front row seats, now, it seemed like the front row gradually filled up with prospects brought in by Mo Ran and his group; their people even began to spill into the second row.

It got to the point where Mo Ran’s only interaction with Chu Wanning was his introducing Chu-laoshi to his new prospects. There were no more dimpled smiles, no more “Good evening, Chu-laoshi!” and one-sided chit-chat; there was just Mo Ran’s voice introducing the photos in the classroom to his new acquaintances yet again.

The first two weeks, Chu Wanning simply nodded to all who were introduced to him and kept his head down, listening to the class as intently as usual. On the third week, however, Chu Wanning gritted his teeth and managed to invite Nangong Si to the Monday class. It was too shameful to have his downline invite five people to every class while he himself had brought none.

Nangong Si, always amiable and full of smiles, had a strange twist to his lips at the end of the class and insisted on walking with Chu Wanning to where he’d parked his car, a little ways away from the entrance to the building where the classroom was.

“Mr. Chu…” Nangong Si trailed off and cast a few furtive glances all around him as if checking for eavesdroppers. He took a deep breath before continuing, “I think this is a scam. You should get out.”

Chu Wanning’s eyes shot up from where he’d been searching for his car keys. “A scam?”

“Yeah…” Nangong Si furrowed his brows. “When they showed the compensation plan during the presentation, I did some quick calculations on the 7-tier exponential growth they proposed; there aren’t enough people on the earth to have many people with 7-tiered groups.” Nangong Si paused. Seeing Chu Wanning’s impassive expression, he dug into his bag for his notebook, then flipped open to the page. “See?”

He pointed out a figure in the millions with his finger. “There’s no way.”

“It’s just an example.” Chu Wanning replied automatically.

“It feels wrong.”

Chu Wanning fell silent. Nangong Si didn’t press anymore, but the unhappiness remained on his face.

“The products help people.” Chu Wanning gave up defending the recruitment and expansion side of things, since building up that part of the business was never his intention; the network and recruitment had not appealed to him at all. He only wanted to share supplements and help people with their health.

Nangong Si, seeing that he wasn’t going to get anywhere by stating any other points, quieted down. “You don’t need to stay.”

“The products are good.” Chu Wanning stated, voice firm.

“They may be good, but the business is a lie.” Nangong Si couldn’t help his retort.

Chu Wanning didn’t reply. Nangong Si stared back at him, resolute in his opinion.

The tension pulled tighter and tighter.

“Mr. Chu…” He tried again, but stopped himself from saying anything more. His jaw tightened, then he turned away without looking back.

Chapter Text

A few months after that ill-fated business class with Nangong Si, Mo Ran and Chu Wanning both boarded a flight for Miami. The company sent a special shuttle to the airport to pick them up in style for the start of their celebratory platinum vacation.

The resort was lavish, lush with greenery and towering palm trees swaying in the breeze that came off of the ocean. The property was prime waterfront property with its own private section of the beach.

While Mo Ran checked in, Chu Wanning looked at that figure that he’d only seen in passing or from a distance for the last few months. Even during his nutrition classes, Chu Wanning never actually saw Mo Ran paying attention to his demonstrations anymore. Those once bright curious eyes which absorbed each and every detail about how the supplements complemented the systems of the human body were always turned down to his cell phone as he typed yet another WeChat or spoke into the phone to another prospect.

In contrast, Mo Ran brought more people in than ever to the nutrition, product, and business classes. It seemed like as the number of his group grew, the less he himself paid attention to the lessons.

It’d been months since Mo Ran and Chu Wanning had shared a meal together.

Chu Wanning picked at his food moodily as Mo Ran ate with one hand while distractedly sending WeChat messages with the other. There seemed to be an endless chain of messages to reply to and a never-ending number of voicemails to listen to. It would be a miracle if Mo Ran actually registered any of the flavors in his food.

This continued until dinner was almost over. Mo Ran looked up after addressing all the issues at hand to see Chu Wanning with his plate barely touched.

“Not hungry?” He inquired with a shadow of his former grin.

Chu Wanning merely stared back without speaking, that unblinking gaze communicating how absurd he thought the question was when asked by someone who plowed through the entire meal, yet tasted not even a single bite.

“I had to reply.” Mo Ran scratched his head sheepishly.

Chu Wanning merely pressed his lips together, then gathered up his things.

Mo Ran didn’t even have the chance to call out to him before Chu Wanning got up and left, stopping briefly at the front of the restaurant to pay.

It was meaningless to dine with someone so distracted.

Why did he even bother coming down to eat?

He didn’t even know if the irritation he was feeling was directed at himself or at Mo Ran.

The Platinum vacation continued in this fashion, Mo Ran and Chu Wanning acting like two ships passing in the night. They were often in the same room or activity, but Mo Ran was always buried in his phone as Chu Wanning focused hard on all the educational presentations provided by the company and frowned through all of the social activities.

Mo Ran didn’t have any time to exchange anything more than pleasantries. He had to make sure that he reached the sales volume requirements for the month.

They parted after the vacation, having had only a handful of conversations that extended past “pass the salt” or “when is that event scheduled” the whole four days.

All of Mo Ran’s hard work and long days were rewarded when he finally earned the right to go to the Executive vacation with Shi Mei.

He and Shi Mei both arrived at the Las Vegas airport together and spotted a man in a black suit holding a board with their last names. They made a beeline for the man.

“Good day, sirs, how was your flight?” “Do you mind showing me your IDs?” “Thank you, please follow me to the bus.”

The man led him to a BMW van, the shuttle to their luxury hotel on the Las Vegas Strip.

“Right this way, sirs.”

He felt like a million dollars already.

The vacation was amazing and full of firsts. First acrobatics performance, first broadway-style musical, first magician’s showcase—Mo Ran tried to restrain his excitement and awe, but the excited glint in his eyes couldn’t be hidden. He really felt that they’d made it when they walked together into a ballroom lined with lights, everyone drifting around the space, making small talk as they sipped alcohol from the glasses they held while they mingled. Everyone looked so put together, sleek in their suits and resplendent evening wear.

He’d made it.

The moment that stood out the most at the vacation wasn’t the lectures and wasn’t the performances though. After one of the lectures, Shi Mei had commented to Mo Ran, “You’re one of my best downlines. It’s great to be here with you.”

Mo Ran, stunned by the sudden praise, almost didn’t register the light shoulder pat that Shi Mei gave him.

“Keep it up and Emerald will be in reach.”

Mo Ran gathered himself enough to reply, though he was still reeling from the positive words from before, “I can?”

“Yes, you can.”

Mo Ran, eyes wide and gleaming, nodded, “Then I will.” For you.

“If you ever find yourself struggling on what to say, remember Laoshi’s Golden Words.” Shi Mei smiled mildly, “Say what they said. Let the successful people speak for you.”

“Copying success is the fastest way to grow.”

By the time Mo Ran and Shi Mei came back from the Executive vacation, the classroom, especially Mo Ran’s group, were in full swing. Despite the distance, Mo Ran had tried his best to burn the midnight oil and have a lively conversation with his downlines almost every other night to make sure things were progressing.

Song Qiutong and Rong Jiu, in particular, were masters at sales, it seemed. The nutrition class, the beauty class, the high tech classes... A quarter to a half of the people in each class were their prospects. Even the people who’d been part of the classroom for quite some time seemed to be affected by their enthusiasm.

The classes grew to the point that the sharing after classes now had to be split into two groups, maybe even three. Song Qiutong and Rong Jiu would handle their own people and Chu Wanning would often participate in the other. Despite this, Chu Wanning would sometimes overhear snippets of conversations at the back of the classroom as he packed up all of his demonstrations and supplies.

“—put it on credit.”

“—too expensive… can’t afford it—”

“—critical to your family’s health…”

None of it was damning on its own, but pieced together, there seemed to be a pattern emerging.

Chu Wanning went to check his account on the company website more frequently and sure enough, high dollar items were being ordered by the people in Mo Ran’s group. Song Qiutong ordered multiple air purifiers and water filters; Rong Jiu did the same.

Of course, sales were critical in making this business successful—Chu Wanning was well aware of that despite his own lack of ability in the area—but when Chu Wanning noticed Song Qiutong hand over 2 boxes of the company’s most expensive repair serum and remind the recipient to make sure to use them once a day for an entire month, he knew his instincts were onto something because that serum was usually only used 14 days in a row, not for a full month.

Chu Wanning called Mo Ran aside after one of the main classes.

Mo Ran gave him a perfunctory smile as he followed Chu Wanning, somewhat reluctantly, into the side room.

Chu Wanning cut straight to the point.

“Your downlines, they’ve been ordering a lot of high dollar items recently.” If Chu Wanning’s tone had been brighter, this might’ve even sounded like a compliment; however, these words paired with slight furrow in his brow honed the statement into a knife.

Mo Ran put on a disarming grin, “Isn’t that good? They’re spreading the news about the company’s good products.”

“I heard them discuss putting many things on credit.”

“People do that all the time. They just have to pay it off afterwards.”

Chu Wanning pursed his lips, “They were suggesting this to people who couldn’t afford to.”

“They’re working hard.” Mo Ran smiled, “don’t dismiss their efforts like this.”

“We’re here to help people, not put them in debt.”

“They are helping people,” Mo Ran paused, “To buy or not is the prospects’ personal decision. You can’t blame my downlines for that.”

Chu Wanning’s lips were almost bloodless. “They’re encouraging them.”

Mo Ran replied, his voice nonchalant, “People buying what they want is just good business.”

“But they’re pressur—”

Chu Wanning was cut off by an insistent ringing from Mo Ran’s phone. Mo Ran immediately pulled the phone out of his pocket. After seeing the name on the caller ID, he turned to leave the room.

“Chu-laoshi, sorry. I’ve got to take this call.”

He didn’t sound sorry at all.

The door clicking shut sounded as loud as a slam.

Chu Wanning tried to bring up the subject a few more times to no avail.

Though he used to sit at the very front of the classroom, Chu Wanning had gradually migrated to the middle, then the back rows. Without Mo Ran there shooting him warm smiles and specifically asking him about his day—Mo Ran was now too preoccupied with caring about all of his downlines, on the phone and in person—the space in the front row just seemed more and more stifling as the others in the front row happily exchanged pleasantries and greetings. The light chatter around him only served to chill his core more as people would formally greet him with a “Chu-laoshi! How are you?” then immediately turn to their more amiable companions before Chu Wanning could even mount a response.

Thus, the back row was fine. Better than the front row at least.

But today, Mo Ran was the one presenting. It had been a few months since that Executive vacation and it was clear that Mo Ran was gunning for Emerald, with a stretch goal of Diamond. Shi Mingjing and the other classroom leaders saw him as a shining star and had begun giving him the coveted position of the second speaker. The first speaker role for Monday classes covered the nuts and bolts of the business: how the bonuses were calculated, what each level of achievement required, how much money could be earned. The second speaker role, however, was much more nebulous and focused on the successful leaders’ mindset: what was their motivation for entering the business, staying in the business, and persevering in the business.

Mo Ran, not used to this new role, had taken a few weeks to get used to this style of speaking. His easy grin and style were engaging, but he had tended to ramble off-topic when he started. Now, he’d had enough practice and his low-pitched powerful voice carried to the back row.

He paced back and forth on stage, cutting a powerful figure, a Casio watch glinting dimly on his wrist as he gesticulated. He spoke about “don’t ask what the classroom can do for you, ask what you can do for the classroom”, “all the naysayers are just trying to keep you down”, and “the importance of copying success instead of reinventing the wheel”.

Chu Wanning felt his heart chill. Where was the bright-eyed man who he’d shared the front row with? Where was that spark of enthusiasm? Why did he sound just like all the other leaders from the classroom?

“Everyone can succeed in this business! This is for everyone!” Mo Ran’s voice cut through the air, striking like a bolt of lightning in Chu Wanning’s chest.

If it was really for everyone, why couldn’t he do it?

The thought haunted Chu Wanning that night and the next.

Saturday found Chu Wanning back at where it all started. He stood in the middle of the supermarket aisle, staring at the sea of humanity as it swirled around him. The aisles weren’t crowded, but since it was a Saturday, bumping into other people was inevitable.

He approached one of the ladies serving samples, this time of steamed buns.

“Would you like a taro bun?”

“Mn.” Chu Wanning accepted the bun, steam curling up in tendrils and bathing his face in warmth.

“Thank you.” He took a bite. “It’s good.”

As she gestured enthusiastically at the spot in the deep freezers where the packages of steamed buns were, he finally figured out a followup question. “What flavors are there?”

She listed two more. “Do you want to try them?”

“Mn.” He nodded decisively.

After trying all the different flavors—taro, lotus, red bean—and asking about the price, he ran out of ideas. He hovered in front of the lady awkwardly, but when she looked at him and pointed out the spot in the freezer again—“They’re just over there”—he couldn’t stay there any longer.

He went to the freezer, still feeling the eyes of the lady from the booth on his back. He bought a package of the lotus buns and went home—defeated.

He tried a different supermarket with much the same results.

Tried an American supermarket.

Tried a hardware store as he picked up some new parts for his prosthetics.

Everyone can succeed in this business!

Why couldn’t he?

The volumes being ordered through the website kept increasing: cases and cases of protein powder, boxes of multivitamins and assorted vitamins, sets of skincare and special serums.

In the classroom, Mo Ran started all of his speeches on stage with a “I’d like to thank Shi Mei and Chu-laoshi for bringing me here”, so Chu Wanning was certainly given credit for his efforts in teaching and guiding Mo Ran. However, the way that Mo Ran was developing his business began weighing more and more heavily on him. Not only was Mo Ran downing handfuls of supplements per meal just like Shi Mingjing, all of his downlines seemed to be following his example.

It was when Chu Wanning spotted 5 tablets of B vitamin complex in Mo Ran’s hand that he decided to stage an intervention. No one needed 5 tablets at a time. It wasn’t harmful, but this type of excess was simply looking to waste money and force the body to process unnecessary vitamins.

“Mo Ran, there’s no need to eat that many supplements at once.” He said quietly as he approached Mo Ran in the back of the room after nutrition class. He’d seen Mo Ran tossing down two handfuls of vitamins and chasing it with protein shake.

“They all help with different things.”

“That many tablets of B and C—your body won’t hold on to them.”

“Better to have more than necessary than to have not enough.”

Chu Wanning’s lips thinned.

“Stop this.”

Mo Ran finally looked up from his phone to look Chu Wanning in the eye.

“What?”

“Stop encouraging people to eat so many supplements.”

Mo Ran just stared back.

“It’s too much for the body to handle.” Chu Wanning continued, “And it’s unnecessary.”

“The leaders say—”

“Stop telling me what they say. You have a brain! So many nutrition classes and you’ve learned nothing?” Chu Wanning’s phoenix eyes were lit up with irritation.

Mo Ran’s eyes were wide and startled, “The leaders…”

“Think for yourself.” Chu Wanning ground out between his gritted teeth.

“But, copy the success—”

“Think!” Chu Wanning snarled at him before storming away.

Later that evening, Mo Ran brought up Chu Wanning’s brusque behavior to Shi Mei.

“What do you think he meant by that?” He questioned, truly unmoored by how his usually quiet Chu-laoshi seemed to be saying things that conflicted with what the leaders espoused.

Shi Mei hmm’d noncommittally back, still typing away in WeChat, probably speaking to his brother again about business matters.

Mo Ran mused idly out loud. “What does he have against eating more supplements?”

“And when I tried to quote Laoshi, he stopped me.” Mo Ran added.

Shi Mei put down his phone and stared at Mo Ran, his expression pulled taut.

“You tried to quote Laoshi and he stopped you?”

“Yes, and told me not to say what they said…” Mo Ran trailed off in confusion.

A grimace flashed across Shi Mei’s beautiful face, maring that perfection for a brief flicker before vanishing without a trace.

“Chu-laoshi doesn't have a lot of ambition in this business.”

Mo Ran’s gaze snapped to Shi Mei’s face.

“He doesn’t want to become a Diamond like you do.”

Mo Ran looked down at his hands, “That’s true…” Chu Wanning had said as much last time he asked.

“He’s stuck at Platinum and you’ve already gone on the Executive vacation.” Shi Mei continued, “There’s a reason for that.” Shi Mei finished his proclamation with a gentle smile.

Mo Ran blinked back at him, blankly. “What reason?”

“He isn’t willing to start from zero like you are, to listen to the counsel of those who have succeeded before.” Shi Mei stated, his voice as subtle as the slight ripple of waves on the surface of a lake. “He’s not willing to be simple.”

Mo Ran stared, as if caught in the tow of his words.

”Laoshi is telling you the secret of success, all you need to do is follow.”

Under Shi Mei’s tutelage, Mo Ran’s business grew and grew. Soon, he had earned the coveted rank of Diamond and was invited to the Diamond cruise.

Having never been on a cruise, Mo Ran spent quite a few nights unable to sleep, thinking about the trip, stewing in both excitement and nerves. The night before they were to set off, Mo Ran’s body finally had enough, leaving him sprawled into his couch, passed out and insensate until his phone began to ring in the morning.

“Hello?” Mo Ran muttered muzzily into the phone.

“A’Ran? Are you awake already? The flight is in a few hours.”

It took a few moments, but once that statement filtered through his sleepy brain, Mo Ran slid off the couch with an ungraceful thud.

“Uh, yes! I’ll be there!”

A light chuckle came over the line, “Okay. I’ll see you.” The call was cut off.

Mo Ran rushed through the apartment, gathering up the rest of the items that he’d hadn’t finished packing into his luggage, and taking a quick shower to freshen up.

Their itinerary was tight. Once they landed in Orlando, it was a quick private shuttle ride to Port Canaveral, then a transfer onto the 4-day cruise on a private ship acquired by the company. A Diamond cruise. It sounded like a dream.

The looming shadow of the ship when he’d approached was larger than anything he’d seen before. As he’d walked up the gangway, there was a sense that all of this was a mirage, a delusion. Only Shi Mei’s figure before him had anchored him to reality as claxons inside his head began to sound. You don’t belong here! What are you doing, poor boy? Go back to where you came from!

He set his luggage down next to the sofa in the room. Though the space was fairly narrow, there was a balcony past the closed curtains that provided a beautiful ocean view—or rather, it would once the ship set sail. As of now, it showed the busy port, people bustling to and fro with luggage.

He opened up the window and stood out on the balcony for a while, listening to the sounds of the port. The sea breeze was refreshing and new. Turning back to his room, he finally noticed a binder on the vanity area by the tv.

WELCOME NEW DIAMOND stared boldly at him from the cover. He flipped it open, leafed through the pages, skimmed over the itinerary, a warm certainty settling into his bones.

This was his.

He’d earned this.

He—not someone else—had made Diamond.

The gala the first night was wild, full of celebration and new faces.

Mo Ran felt like he was holding court. The Chinese group was small, but he was one of a small handful of new Diamonds, so he shared his origin story with a dimpled smile and garnered a “Ah, young people these days have such a bright future” from one of the higher-ranked people from Taiwan. There weren’t too many Chinese-American people of higher-rank than Diamond at the event, but to hear the leaders speak of it, the Chinese or Taiwanese cohort would drop in from time to time, especially if they had promising downlines that had risen in the ranks. Shi Mei had done the same this time, accompanying Mo Ran even though he’d gone to the Diamond vacation before.

Mo Ran found himself even more in demand when they found out that he also spoke fairly good English. Most of them operated nearly exclusively in the Chinese-American immigrant community and a lot of them had successful lines overseas to make up their numbers to reach Diamond and above. Though some of the highest ranking leaders had been assigned personal translators by the company, it was always easier to talk amongst the group rather than inviting someone from Corporate in.

All of the new Diamonds were invited graciously one night to a leader’s small mastermind in one of the grand suites. The suites were the size of a small apartment and spacious. All of them sat on the couches and discussed ways to better manage and grow their businesses until the wee hours of the night. Right before they wrapped up for the night, the leader announced that the new Diamonds could come with him to shop on the ship for a memento of their time here.

He smiled, “Now that you’ve achieved Diamond, you need to look the part, too.”

Mo Ran set an alarm for an hour before their meeting time to make sure he’d be ready.

It was still morning when the group descended upon the ship’s jewelry and watch store. There was even a vendor invited by the company to make sure that all the different luxury brands were represented.

“A luxury watch is the key to a successful man’s appearance,” counseled the Double Diamond when he met the new Diamonds at the front of the shop.

“See here? Digital watches are no good. Truly successful people only wear mechanical watches.” He pointed out the different styles as he meandered through.

“Sir, would you like to see anything?” Asked an attendant, trying to be helpful.

“Ah, no thank you.” The Double Diamond smiled politely before switching back to Chinese.

He went through the difference between watches with manual movements, automatic movements, and quartz movements. He strongly discouraged the last one saying, “It’s not as traditional. The first two are mechanical watches; that’s where the craftsmanship is.”

“Pick something from these cases here.” He left them to look at the display.

They peered at the different watches, discussing amongst themselves. “So, the manual movement ones require winding to run and tell time properly?”

“Yeah, that sounds like such a hassle.”

“He did mention the automatic movement ones.”

“How do they charge to run again?”

“I think it was through just wearing them and the movements of your arm.”

“Wait, does that mean that I need to shake it a lot when I put it on?”

Mo Ran snickered at the mental image of putting on a watch, then needing to windmill his arms every morning.

“No, no, just walking around with the watch on will do it.”

“Surely there’s some machine or something that will help wind the watches when you’re not using them…” The chatter faded away into the background as Mo Ran took a closer look at the different designs.

Some of them gleamed in gold or silver, some in black, and there were even a few with colored faces. Mo Ran peered curiously at those as they were in the minority.

His eyes swept past them when—

His gaze got caught by the dynamic pose of a silver sculpted dog in the middle of a green watch face.

“Dogs with missing limbs don’t get adopted. Dogs with prosthetics do.” The somber words whispered through his mind. He still remembered the quiet melancholy laced through Chu Wanning’s voice as he’d led the now-4-limbed dog back into the clinic.

The dog stared back at him from the watch face, eyes gleaming with alertness and life despite its being clearly inanimate. It was surrounded with silver foliage which glinted, contrasting beautifully with the rich and dark teal-green of the background.

There was a small sign above it that proclaimed “Limited Edition: Métiers d’Art The Legend of the Chinese Zodiac” with “Year of the Dog” printed underneath. Mo Ran chuckled, the Lunar New Year was quite some months away, but of course, sales for such collections could appear early.

Chu Wanning and he had their differences, but this watch spoke to him somehow. It would look good on that slender wrist. He gazed at the figure of the dog, lost in thought, before calling the attendant over.

Nangong Si let himself into the clinic. Ever since that time with Chu Wanning and Vanilla, he’d learned his lesson and never burst exuberantly into the clinic anymore; it helped avoid any incidents. When they heard his footsteps, the dogs enthusiastically barked, raising quite a ruckus. He reached out a hand, delivering pats and scratches to all of them as he slowly made his way into the back room where he found Chu Wanning, sitting on the floor, fiddling with a mechanism as if deep in thought.

“Mr. Chu?” Nangong Si queried when Chu Wanning failed to look up even after a few long moments.

“Ah?” Even Mr. Chu’s astonishment was muted. Chu Wanning paused before greeting him back, “Nangong Si.”

There was an awkward silence as Nangong Si tried to figure out whether to continue the conversation or dismiss himself as Mr. Chu was clearly busy. He had found out over time that Mr. Chu wasn’t one for small talk, but had also noticed that he was especially gentle with the dogs.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just going to take Cornbread out for his walk.” He chose to retreat and let Mr. Chu get back to the prosthetic. Crouching down, he held up the leash to the door of the cage and opened it with a quiet snick.

“Cornbread, how’re you doing buddy?” A wide grin instinctively spread across his face as the now freed terrier mix Cornbread aggressively licked his neck, his face, wherever he could reach.

“Cornbread! You’re excited today!” Nangong Si kept up a stream of chatter as he led Cornbread out the back door for his walk, waving briefly at Mr. Chu before he left. He could see Mr. Chu’s nod of acknowledgement as the door swung closed.

The clinic quieted back down once Nangong Si had left. All Chu Wanning could hear were the soft snuffles of the dogs and the creaking of the cages as the dogs made themselves comfortable once again.

The silence blanketed him.

He finished adjusting the prosthetic and set it on the floor to fetch Macchiato—Macchi for short—a chocolate retriever who had seen better days.

Macchi shuffled out of the cage, hopping a little to compensate for his missing limb. The retriever was large, but Chu Wanning tried to support him with a towel wrapped around him like a sling, pulling on the ends of the towel to lessen the weight on Macchi’s three remaining legs.

Once he’d made it out of the cage, Chu Wanning told him to sit down. There was no need to make the dog walk more than he had to.

Macchi slumped to the floor in a sprawl, tongue lolling out. Chu Wanning handed him a treat to gnaw on and turned around to fetch the prosthetic.

Attaching and adjusting the prosthetic took some time. By the time they finished, Macchi had gobbled up five treats, though perhaps the last two weren’t strictly necessary to keep him still for the attachment and testing process—Chu Wanning refused to admit Macchiato’s sorrowful whines had any affect on how many treats he received.

Macchi gingerly walked back and forth across the floor, gradually growing in confidence, but tiring quickly. He sank back down onto the ground—plumed tail slapping the floor gently.

Chu Wanning moved closer to make sure the prosthetic hadn’t loosened, then leaned back when his examination was finished.

Macchi rolled to the side, showing his belly.

“What is it?”

Macchi’s wide grin—so typical of retrievers—accompanied that wagging tail.

“Fine.” Chu Wanning began to rub Macchi’s belly and the retriever closed his eyes in delight, prosthetic leg moving rhythmically across the floor as he enjoyed the attention.

Nangong Si walked in on this scene with Cornbread in tow, a broad grin stretching across his face.

“Looks like someone is enjoying himself!”

Chu Wanning quickly withdrew his hand and Macchi whined in response.

Chu Wanning put his hand back which mollified the retriever somewhat, but didn’t move. Nangong Si had already turned away, efficiently putting Cornbread back into his cage and silencing his protests with a few pats and a treat. Nangong Si pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket. “Let’s see here… Popcorn is next.”

He tucked the sheet in his pocket and roamed the cages until he found the white doodle with curly hair. “Got ya!” He lifted her out of her cage, cradling her in his arms.

“No worries, Mr. Chu! I’ll be out of your hair in a minute!” He called out as he left with Popcorn, letting her down to the ground just inside of the back door and securely attaching the leash.

The door shut and it was quiet once again.

Macchi looked at Chu Wanning longingly and the latter crumbled under the insistence of that gaze. “Fine.”

The belly rub began anew, Macchi thumping his tail again in enjoyment.

Chu Wanning let his mind wander as he stroked Macchi’s soft fur. Mo Ran and Shi Mingjing had left for the Diamond vacation to great fanfare. More than half of the people in the classroom were in Mo Ran’s group now and Shi Mei had mentioned a few of his lines were being cultivated by his brother back in Mainland China. Mo Ran had looked very happy with his success, beaming from the stage as he’d been praised by all the leaders in the classroom.

But instead of that gleaming image on the stage, the only thing that Chu Wanning could recall with clarity were his own failures to convince Mo Ran to rein in his downlines, to go back to honest selling rather than hyperbole and unfounded claims.

Mo Ran hadn’t listened and that fact chilled Chu Wanning to the bone.

Not all was lost, perhaps. He would try to convince him again.

Maybe all that Mo Ran needed was time.

Chapter Text

November was breezy in Taiwan. Shi Mingjing led the group from the airport to the hotel, easily slipping back into his homeland; there really was no substitute for being able to feel the thrum of Taipei and hear spoken Chinese with some Taiwanese mixed in.

They’d all come to Taiwan for the International Conference in Laoshi’s network. It was the biggest event of the year and since Mo Ran and Shi Mingjing were both Diamonds now, it was only right that they be acknowledged on stage.

Although Mo Ran could’ve easily gotten his own room, he’d opted to stay in a room with Rong Jiu and Chu Wanning; Shi Mei had decided to room alone for the time being as his brother was planning to join him a few days later when he traveled from Taichung. Who knows what type of nonsense Chu Wanning would’ve told Rong Jiu if he’d been left to room with him alone—not that Chu Wanning said much usually.

Chu Wanning had been pestering him every so often, droning on about ethical selling and being careful claims that supplements could cure disease.

Yes, it was better that Mo Ran be there to make sure that Rong Jiu didn’t hear too many unnecessary arguments about how they were sharing the products. Chu Wanning was overreacting. Just because he couldn’t swallow dozens of pills at a time, he fussed at everyone else who used supplements to care for themselves—strange behavior for a primary lecturer in their nutrition classes.

They’d arrived nearly a week early in order to make sure they’d acclimated to the time difference before the conference.

Song Qiutong and Rong Jiu had insisted on seeing the company’s exhibition center in Taipei since there was a special experience that they’d booked with the company makeup artists. Rong Jiu had mentioned that he’d been on the waitlist ever since the worldwide convention had been announced months earlier and had finally gotten a spot.

The rest of them accompanied the two over to the company center. While they had their makeup demonstration, the rest of them scattered throughout the center, looking at the different products and displays on the shelves.

When Shi Mei got the call, he told Mo Ran he’d be back soon and ducked out of the center. On the 5th ring, he pressed Answer.

“Ge?”

“Didi.” The familiar voice rang over the line. “You’ve settled in?”

“We’re at the Center. Some of Mo Ran’s lines booked the Beauty Experience.”

“Your Diamond line’s people? And your Diamond?”

“He’s looking at the high-tech exhibits.”

“Good.” Hua Binan paused over the phone. “Keep a close eye on him. He’s your best line at the moment.”

“Of course, Ge.” Shi Mei nodded. “When are you arriving?”

“Laoshi is having a meeting tomorrow—Diamond and above. I’ll be there. Make sure to come with Mo Ran.” Hua Binan instructed. “I’ll send you the details.”

More people flooded into the city by the day and small meetings popped up every day for the leaders. Rong Jiu and Song Qiutong enthusiastically scoured the city for prospects and rapidly added more contacts to their phones. Mo Ran and Shi Mingjing spent most of the day in some closed door meeting for Diamonds and above. Only Chu Wanning was left in the shared room, wondering what he was supposed to do.

Shopping didn’t appeal to him much and he had only so much data on his international phone plan. He read some of the material that he’d brought with him in the room, then when noon came and went, meandered down to the streets to find something to fill his stomach.

Finally, came the day for the actual conference. The convention was held at a sports arena usually used for soccer games or the like. Buses of people kept on arriving, depositing people from the different countries into the churning sea of humanity.

“American group! Follow me!” One of the leaders from their classroom called out, insistently waving an American flag. Chu Wanning would’ve considered all of this unnecessary if it weren’t for the packed crowds; it was hard to keep track of any group in these conditions.

“Over here!” They shuffled as fast as they could over to the designated spot.

The leader passed out all of their name-badges. “Make sure you wear it! This is your ticket in; not everyone in the Mainland was able to get tickets, so you need to hold onto yours tightly and appreciate how much Laoshi loves the American market.”

Chu Wanning wordlessly slipped the lanyard over his head. Chu Wanning, Platinum, it stated in block letters.

It took them hours to get inside, moving from place to place until they finally squeezed into the hard stadium chairs. They were clustered together with the other groups from America and there were some familiar faces, though Chu Wanning could not recall any names.

Mo Ran, however, clearly knew more of them, diving into conversation with some of the people from the San Diego classroom. Chu Wanning could hear him even mentioning himself “Chu Wanning, my sponsor” and waving a careless hand in Chu Wanning’s direction.

Chu Wanning sat in a zone of quiet. He didn’t have anything better to do, so he flipped through the information they’d received about the convention and then his notebook when he’d finished that.

Suddenly, the lights went dark and there were some exclamations of surprise from the other attendees.

The lights flickered on again a moment later. False alarm.

A few minutes later, the stadium went dark again and triumphant music began to blare.

“Please bring your hands together and welcome our leaders from around the world!”

Thunderous applause.

The emcee shouted into the mic, “And the creme de la creme—Laoshi! She needs no introduction!!”

Two tunnels down below flashed in a blaze of light and the main screens hanging in the middle of the stadium played a dramatic clip of Wang-laoshi and her husband stepping down from a helicopter. They were dressed exquisitely, her dress the top of fashion and her husband in a timeless black suit, tailored to perfection.

“It’s the Final Countdown” echoed through the stadium as the leaders walked in two by two. The crowd roared.

“AHHHH! It’s Zhang-laoshi!!!” A particularly shrill voice shrieked from behind Chu Wanning.

“Cai-laoshi! Cai-laoshi!”

“These leaders are your future, business owners!” The voice boomed over the speakers.

Lightsticks and phones used as lightsticks were pulsing with the beat of the introduction song as the leaders continued onto the stage.

“And the one and only—Wang-laoshi and Li-laoshi!”

Everyone, even those who had stayed sitting throughout this whole process, stood up and screamed.

Chants of “Laoshi!” filled the stadium. Chu Wanning covered his ears; the cheers were deafening.

Wang-laoshi was the keynote speaker. She smiled at the crowd, explaining her humble beginnings.

“I was a mere schoolteacher when I began. My old family friend told me about this company, this opportunity, and even though I didn’t understand it thoroughly at first, I did remember he said that it was an opportunity with potential. What did I have to lose?” She smiled, “I had tried many other opportunities before this one, what was one more?”

She continued discussing her journey to success, mentioning the person who doubted that a schoolteacher like her could make anything of the business—she’d gone back to that person later and showed him the magazine with her on the cover. She’d left her children with her mother for years, trying to build this business with her own hands, always knocking on doors, meeting with new prospects. The early years were hard.

But now, things were different.

She was one of the top distributors for the company worldwide.

She traveled to many countries, visiting all her Chinese brethren across the world spreading her message of dreams, of opportunity, of deliverance.

She was the light of the Chinese diaspora.

Wang-laoshi. Known the world over for being a beacon of hope.

“The present me is the future you.”

The after-meeting sharings were enthusiastic that night—most people injected with a new fervor. Chu Wanning, however, had to stifle the beginnings of a yawn as the meeting dragged on. No one was keeping to the stripped down sharing format they were all taught; they waxed on about their personal feelings and how such and such story resonated with them instead. He could see Mo Ran across the room from him, eyes still lit up with a fire.

When it was his time to share, Chu Wanning mentioned one of Laoshi’s stories as being very inspirational, but didn’t say anything about a new business goal. The host of the circle, long used to Chu Wanning’s tactiturn nature, jumped straight to the next person after giving him a brief moment to continue.

The convention was very similar the next day—rousing speeches which were light on product information and heavy on personal anecdotes and analogies. The new Diamonds and above had the chance to say their names, sponsors, and country affiliation on stage, but weren’t allowed to say any more; Mo Ran’s smile looked luminous from the stage.

That evening after the normal small group sharing, there was another meeting of Platinums and above from all across the United States.

There were a lot of side discussions as they waited for all the people coming into the room. Chu Wanning could hear Mo Ran’s name come up in various conversations around the room.

“Isn’t he one of the youngest new Diamonds?”

“Wow, who sponsored him? Lucky...”

“He’s so handsome! Young and successful, I’d love to learn from him!”

Chu Wanning’s eyes snapped to the person who exclaimed that, meeting eyes with the enthusiastic young woman. Her smile faded under his cold gaze.

She turned to her companion, “Who’s that?”

“His sponsor, Chu Wanning. He’s a Platinum.”

“Just a Platinum? With a Diamond line?” She sighed. “Some people have all the fortune.”

Her dismissive tone cut like glass.

Chu Wanning withdrew his gaze.

She continued to chat with her companion, continuing to fawn over Mo Ran who sat on an ottoman not far away while conversing with one of the leaders from San Diego.

The rest of the sharing followed the regular pattern, though when Chu Wanning started with “Chu Wanning, Platinum. Thank you to my sponsor, Shi Mingjing.” He felt that young woman’s eyes on him. A cold feeling settled somewhere in his chest.

“Just a Platinum?” rang through his head, reverberating.

They didn’t know him, but why should they? He was just a Platinum to them.

Just Chu Wanning. A Platinum in a room where that rank was the base level for entry. He had spent countless hours with Mo Ran, teaching him product demonstrations and knowledge, but his own student had already far surpassed him in a blaze of glory and was even recognized on stage today in front of the world.

Mo Ran called him Chu-laoshi, but what could he teach his student now?

The answer came to him as a chill slowly crept down his arms.

Nothing.

He couldn’t teach him anything.

The next evening, Chu Wanning came back early to the room. Mo Ran was off at one of Laoshi’s special leadership meetings; Shi Mingjing had gone out with his mysterious brother; Rong Jiu was probably at the night market, trying to talk up yet another prospect.

Chu Wanning had declined all of that in favor of getting some rest after 2 days of meetings until 3am.

Though, to be honest, he wasn’t invited to any of the additional meetings.

He was just a Platinum.

He dithered around in the room, looking through the notebooks that he had brought, pages of prosthetic designs jumbled up with notes on the conference.

When he got a little hungry, he rummaged through drawers and nibbled on some of the sweet snack crackers that he’d bought at the supermarket.

Mo Ran texted the room’s group chat around 2am. “Just finished! Coming back to the room now”

Chu Wanning looked at the text for a while before springing into action.

He boiled some water in the kettle provided by the hotel and prepared a fresh bowl of spicy ramen for Mo Ran. Granted, it wasn’t fresh per se—it came out of a packet after all—but something hot and fresh would nevertheless be good to have. Mo Ran probably hadn’t eaten since that meal bar around 5.

He also dug out some of the frozen wontons. He’d gotten them that day when no one else was in the room; he’d been strolling idly through the supermarket when a lady passing out samples had caught his attention. She’d beckoned him over with a motherly smile and fed him two of each wonton flavor she had on hand.

“Aiya, young people… So skinny. Put some meat on your bones.” She murmured to him, overly friendly, but very gentle.

He ate the samples, steam warming up the tip of his nose. Her kindness gave the wontons the same flavor as those Mo Ran used to make for him during their lunches after a product demonstration session.

He’d bought a pack and stuffed what he could into the hotel’s small freezer, eating the remainder that very afternoon before everyone came back.

Now, it took him several tries with the frozen wontons and the microwave before they seemed defrosted enough and warm enough to be edible. He heated it one more time just to be sure.

After getting caught in yet another conversation with a leader, Mo Ran came back to the room an hour later to find Chu Wanning slumped over the room’s only table—notebook still open and a chilled bowl of spicy noodles with wontons a few inches from his fingertips. Mo Ran’s small bottle of chili oil was set just beside the bowl.

When did Chu Wanning start to eat spicy food? Mo Ran thought as he drained the soup into the sink. Food set out like this would start to smell.

And how tired must he be to fall asleep before eating his own meal? He tossed the noodles and wontons in the trash. He knew that Chu Wanning was messy, but he didn’t think that it would extend to food as well. Though…

Mo Ran thought back to the state of Chu Wanning’s apartment.

It wasn’t out of the question.

What a waste.

Chu Wanning woke up in a daze and blinked slowly as he sat up on the bed.

How did he end up here?

“Chu-laoshi! It’s almost 8.” Mo Ran called out to him.

Chu Wanning hmm’d in reply, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He started to yawn before catching sight of Mo Ran who was making his protein drink—his jaw immediately snapped shut and he swallowed down the yawn.

He clambered out of bed as gracefully as he could, still somewhat encumbered by sleep, and went to get ready for the day.

He saw the remains of the noodles and wontons in the trash bin.

His concern, his worries for Mo Ran, thrown into the trash like the valueless things they were.

Mechanically, he got ready for the day.

The day dragged on interminably with speaker after speaker waxing poetic about how they conquered challenges, brought in prospects, changed lives. There were doctors, engineers, lawyers, janitors, schoolteachers, high school graduates, and people from many other walks of life. All who went on stage thanked their sponsors and Laoshi for guidance.

The entire afternoon, Laoshi presided over the entire stage, each of the successful leaders in her group sharing their secrets to success. She would acknowledge each one with a smile, clapping politely whenever they mentioned one of her famous sayings which were immortalized in Laoshi’s Golden Words.

Chu Wanning remembered that booklet. Shi Mingjing had once gifted Mo Ran a copy. Only a few days afterwards, Mo Ran had trotted up to Chu Wanning and showed off a couple of the phrases he’d memorized.

Mo Ran had been reading it and quoting it ever since.

Rong Jiu had gone off to buy souvenirs and visit with a new prospect, as had Song Qiutong. Shi Mingjing was holed up with his mysterious brother again—call me Hua-dage, he’d smiled at them when introduced. Only Mo Ran and Chu Wanning remained near the hotel.

For once, Mo Ran wasn’t on his phone, wasn’t staring at that booklet, and wasn’t rushing off to do a demonstration. Chu Wanning observed the youth who was scarfing down the dinner as if it were one of the first decent meals he’d had in two days; meal bars truly were no substitute for a real hot meal.

When he wasn’t stuffing his face, Mo Ran exclaimed excitedly about what he’d learned at the conference so far, “Laoshi really started from nothing!” “Laoshi’s story about crabs pulling each other down made so much sense!” “Laoshi really has walked the walk.”

Chu Wanning’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper and he radiated the chill of a reflectionless pool.

After about the 50th “Laoshi”, Chu Wanning had enough. He cut in brusquely.

“Just eat.”

Mo Ran startled, halfway in the middle of quoting Laoshi yet again.

A strange stillness settled over the table.

Chu Wanning stared fixedly at the food, shoveling some more mechanically into his mouth, chewing, swallowing.

Mo Ran set down his utensils onto his plate with a clink.

Chu Wanning kept going. The food tasted of nothing and a prickle of awareness crawled over his skull where Mo Ran was clearly staring, perhaps trying to figure out why his taciturn laoshi had suddenly snapped.

“Okay,” Mo Ran muttered. “Okay.” He gathered his plates and walked away to pay.

Chu Wanning finished off the rest.

They stayed away from each other for the rest of the night, Mo Ran burying himself in Laoshi’s Golden Words booklet and Chu Wanning flipping through a book he’d brought while registering only every third word.

It was on the last day of the conference when Shi Mingjing announced that Laoshi had extended a special offer to Mo Ran. When Mo Ran slipped away to go to the restroom, Shi Mei followed.

“A’Ran,” Shi Mei called out.

Mo Ran stopped walking.

“Would you like to come learn more from Laoshi and her personal students?”

Mo Ran stood there, processing, then after a moment, his eyes snapped to Shi Mei’s. “What?”

“A’Ran, Laoshi is going to go to the United States after she wraps up this conference.” His peach blossom eyes glinted with excitement. “She’s invited us to join her and her other personal students on her trip across the United States.”

“She… What? Me?” Mo Ran’s voice was full of disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, you.” Shi Mei let out a light chuckle. “She’s very impressed.”

Mo Ran’s eyes widened even further, “Impressed?”

There was a silence between the two of them.

“How…” Mo Ran trailed off.

“What about…?” He cast a quick glance back to the hallway they’d come from.

“She specifically invited you.”

Mo Ran’s eyes gradually went from disbelieving astonishment to acceptance.

Shi Mei continued, “Laoshi said it could be a month or two, give or take. She wants to make sure that her American downlines are growing.”

Shi Mei’s eyes locked onto Mo Ran’s. “Will you accept?”

Mo Ran stayed silent, overwhelmed by favor and paralyzed by what this might mean.

“The restaurant would never let us!”

“This opportunity is priceless. You’re already making a pretty penny as a Diamond.” Shi Mei’s voice turned low, insistent.

“She doesn’t offer this opportunity to many, A’Ran.”

“Give it some thought. She wants to know before we leave for the United States.” Shi Mei stated before he turned back to the main room where everyone else was gathered. “Think about it.”

Chapter Text

Mo Ran said yes to the trip across the States with Laoshi.

They hit the ground running once they arrived back in the States.

Shi Mei said that it was of utmost importance that they arranged for sharing as soon as possible in the classroom. Especially since they would be away for at least a month, the other leaders of the classroom would either need to step up or their own downlines would need to stabilize the situation.

Rong Jiu and Song Qiutong probably didn’t need much help, they were on fire after being at the conference. Throughout the trip back, they were constantly talking about what they’d learned from the lectures, taking down the phone numbers of everyone they ran across, and building out their plans for the future.

This was their way out of working in a hair salon or restaurant for the rest of their life. There weren’t many ways out for immigrants who didn’t know much English. Even learning English only guaranteed so much; new high school graduates were viewed more favorably by employers than those whose pedigrees were unclear.

Mo Ran understood that drive—shared it even.

There was just a certain quality to their eyes, a hunger for hope. Once they found the opportunity, they didn’t let go.

Thus assured that his people would keep everything running in his absence, Mo Ran flew off with Shi Mei to learn at the feet of masters.

After Shi Mingjing and Mo Ran had set off on their pilgrimage, Chu Wanning continued attending the class, sitting at the back of the classroom out of pure reflex. He’d sat up in the front row the day they’d shared about their time at the International Conference, but the nearly manic, spiritual light in Mo Ran’s eyes had unsettled him. He’d looked at that figure from below the stage. Outwardly, Mo Ran was the same vibrant youth he’d always been, but he’d been dyed in their colors.

Not one sentence came from him that was original anymore.

All small talk wound back around to what product could aid with one’s ailments or some anecdote with a purpose.

And now Mo Ran was gone.

Gone with Shi Mingjing on some wild journey across the country, chasing after those leaders.

The class felt empty without h—them.

He came to class, took his notes, and left without ever saying much more than “good evening”, his couple sentences about the class, and “good night”. Everyone greeted him as “Chu-laoshi” as they always had, but every time a new person came, it was always “Chu-laoshi—he has a Diamond in his group!” or “Chu-laoshi, Mo Ran’s upline!”. They’d then lead the prospect away, showing them Mo Ran’s picture on the wall where it was emblazoned with the word DIAMOND underneath.

He would always nod his acknowledgement at that new person, but his polite smile faded bit by bit until it was a mere twitch of his lips.

He played his role, answering questions—usually technical—when they came up.

There weren’t any special classes recently, all the firepower concentrating on just maintaining the regular classes and building the group. Rather than diverting additional manpower to keeping the nutrition classes and beauty classes running, everyone was focused on gathering prospects. Their numbers swelled.

“Chu-laoshi, Mo Ran’s upline.”

That’s all he was now.

It hollowed him out, being a mere helpline, a tool to be pulled out when needed and cast aside when not.

And one day, weeks after Mo Ran and Shi Mingjing had flown away, Chu Wanning looked at the people sitting there in the classroom and all he saw were strangers.

Xue Zhengyong was the first who noticed, but he didn’t say anything immediately. Chu Wanning was prickly about appearances even on good days; it was better to figure out the situation beforehand.

But he couldn’t hold back his exclamation the second time that he noticed Chu Wanning wrongly reaching for a wrench instead of a Phillips-head screwdriver.

“Yuheng?!”

Chu Wanning flinched back at the sudden voice; the wrench fell, thankfully hitting the floor instead of the frame of the car.

“Boss.” Chu Wanning answered back in his usual calmness.

“You look like death warmed over. Take a day off to rest, Yuheng.” Xue Zhengyong clapped Chu Wanning on the shoulder, pushing him forward a few inches.

Chu Wanning merely leaned down and picked up the wrench again, approaching the engine again.

The sense of wrongness intensified. Normally, Chu Wanning would’ve said something or at the very least realize that he was holding the incorrect tool.

“Yuheng?” Xue Zhengyong tried again, this time softer.

“Mn?”

“Are you alright?”

“Mn.” Chu Wanning replied.

“Are you—?”

“I’m. Fine.”

“If you’re tired, you can take the rest of the day off.” Xue Zhengyong offered.

“I’m fine.” Chu Wanning sighed.

Xue Zhengyong retreated.

It wasn’t always lectures. They were in Las Vegas this week, Laoshi had a few very important downlines in the area, so the entire flock of Crowns and Crown ambassadors descended upon the city. Laoshi, amazing talent that she was, was able to impress nearly everyone she set her eyes on. Their eyes would be drawn to her magnetic confidence and grow wide when they recognized the pattern of her Hermes scarf or Louis Vuitton purse.

The effect that the luxury items had on prospects wasn’t lost on Mo Ran. Besides these subtle lessons, Laoshi also explicitly led the group out on a whirlwind tour of the best brands. Being a man, it was a little harder to mingle in the stores. The women of the party fluttered in and out of the fitting rooms, exclaiming about how gorgeous this scarf was or how beautiful this dress made someone look; even the lower-ranked women of the group—there was an Emerald and a handful of Diamonds besides Mo Ran—bought some of the less expensive items, though that term was relative in a luxury store.

They dipped into a Gucci store on a whim. Mo Ran saw a couple of things and snagged them for cheap—loose-fitting casual pants with the Gucci logo on the side which were in his preferred black with gold trim and a stylish black belt with the Gucci buckle that Li-Laoshi seemed to approve of.

It was exciting, going out to meet with prospects and shop during the day, eating at endless buffets stocked with king crab and lobster—if it weren’t for the occasional all-day lecture at the Las Vegas classroom and the meetings until 3am talking strategy on how to grow one’s network, it would’ve even seem like a vacation from time to time.

Mo Ran kept an eye out on his group’s WeChat group and saw that Rong Jiu and Song Qiutong and a few others were still quite active, so things were going well back at home. Spending all day with his favorite person, Shi Mei, learning strategy and sharing at the feet of masters, seeing their prospects’ eyes widen when they took in Laoshi’s glorious figure bedecked in name brands, this was the high life.

Mo Ran didn’t mind that his prospects weren’t overly impressed with his small burgeoning collection of luxury products yet. He was successful, yes, but compared to the crown ambassadors and all the high-flying socialites and crazy personalities in Las Vegas, there was only so much he could do.

It was okay. He would prove to them that he could earn their respect. He, too, would wear his success with pride. They would see.

It was the last day in Las Vegas before they would fly to New York, so everyone was in a flurry of activity. Those who had prospects to visit went to do so and the rest of them spent some time in the morning and afternoon calling back home to check on their groups’ progress.

Mo Ran had been sharing stories that he’d heard from the different leaders in the WeChat group over the entire trip, but today he was taking the extra time to make individual phone calls to his most promising downlines, then even updated the group WeChat with a beautiful picture of the Bellagio’s latest exhibits in their famous flower garden.

“Last day in Vegas! Next stop, glamorous New York!”

He had copied both the picture and the caption from one of the more photo-savvy leaders in the group; no need to spend time reinventing the wheel. There was a reason that person was a few ranks above him.

Before they left, he made sure to tag along with the small group going to the Rolex Boutique—a luxury watch is the key to a successful man’s appearance.

The enormous rug at the entrance was bright red; the store was well lit. Sales associates walked amongst the cases upon cases of watches. Some were gleaming, encrusted in diamonds. Some were glinting in gold and silver and black finishes. There were even flutes of champagne placed here and there to sip on for certain VIP customers looking around the store.

As many of them were still newer to the world of luxury, most of the group milled about aimlessly looking at the different designs by themselves. Mo Ran, however, felt drawn to the gold and black watches on display, liking the dramatic color combination. He already had the black jogging pants with the golden stripe on the side from Gucci, why not lean into the color scheme with a matching watch?

He roamed around the store until one of the watches in the Submariner collection caught his eye.

The watchband gleamed in gold; the black of the watch face set off the yellow-gold watch hands and detailing. The ring on the outside of the main watch face was black with gold lettering in stark bold font.

“This one. Can I see this one?” Mo Ran asked the attendant who had drifted over.

“Yes, sir. The Submariner is one of our most popular collections.” The associate mentioned as he slid open the back of the security case and brought out the watch for Mo Ran to see.

The light reflected off the watchface, dazzling.

The associate rattled off a few facts about the bezel with the bold typeface about how it could be used when diving—Mo Ran ignored him, he wasn’t planning on going diving. The easy to read numbers were helpful for telling time though.

“I’ll take it.” Mo Ran cut directly to the heart of the matter.

“Of course, sir.” The associate smiled. “Will that be all for you today, sir?”

Mo Ran nodded curtly.

It was 5 figures well spent. Laoshi always talked about investing in looking successful to give your downlines hope. This—Mo Ran thought as he felt the weight of his new watch on his wrist—this was hope turned into reality.

By the time Mo Ran finally finished following Laoshi on her tour of the United States, he had visited 5 other cities in quick succession. It was tiring, being on the road all the time, but every time he posted something that he’d heard from Li-laoshi or Ruby-laoshi or the other laoshi, there were always a few voices in the WeChat group that exclaimed in awe.

“You attended Li-laoshi’s opportunity class? How lucky…”

“You even got to see Ruby-laoshi’s cooking demonstration? Aren’t they the best in the Americas with those dishes?”

Every time he got one of those comments, he was reminded that he—not someone else—had been personally invited to learn all of these secrets, all of these nuances, had been invited to network with these worldwide leaders. He had been chosen.

He walked into the classroom with a jaunty stride, black suit crisp and ironed, trusty high-tops on his feet. The Rolex peeked out from under his sleeve, gleaming in brilliant gold and black.

He surveyed his kingdom, picking out a few familiar phases amongst those milling about before the class.

“Mo-laoshi, you’re back!”

“Mo-laoshi, good evening!”

“Mo-laoshi, how was the trip?”

Various voices piped up, some familiar, some not.

Mo Ran made a beeline for his downlines once he spotted them. Song Qiutong was holding court, surrounded by a group of younger women.

“Song-Jie, how do you keep your skin so smooth?”

“Song-Jie, do you still have any eye creams in stock?”

“Song-Jie, this is my prospect Mei. Mei, this is one of our class’ beauty gurus…”

“Mo-laoshi, welcome back.” Song Qiutong’s soft voice cut through the chatter, her dulcet tones somehow pushing everyone else into the background. Mo Ran smiled back.

“Good to be back. Looks like you’re doing well.”

Song Qiutong knew when her upline wanted some praise and smoothly provided it. “This is one of our classroom leaders, Mo-laoshi. He’s reached the rank of Diamond.” She pointed out Mo Ran’s picture framed on the wall. “He uses the skincare products, too.”

The young women’s eyes were all scanning over Mo Ran, noticing the smoothness of his skin, the bold features of his face, and the tight fit of his suit jacket across his biceps. They erupted in a flurry of quiet twitters.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Mo Ran departed the group with a dimpled grin, turning to greet Rong Jiu and his other direct downlines in the classroom.

Once he’d finished making his rounds, he noticed that someone seemed to be missing.

Where was Chu Wanning?

That was strange. Chu Wanning came to every class.

Class was starting already, so Mo Ran didn’t have the time to ponder this curious observation. Since they’d just come back, Shi Mei and Mo Ran both had a chance to share what it was like to be privileged to follow Laoshi around and the key lessons that they learned from their more than a month away.

They were surrounded after the sharing circles had disbanded, all the midtier leaders eager to hear more of what they’d learned. Mo Ran and Shi Mei ended up promising to host a leaders-only class to share more in depth about what they’d seen and experienced on the trip.

After the crowd had dispersed, Mo Ran finally had the chance to remember Chu Wanning again.

It was late, but perhaps not too late at night, so he called.

“Hello?”

“Chu-laoshi! I didn’t see you tonight.” Mo Ran jumped into the main topic immediately.

“Mn…” Chu Wanning made a noncommittal noise.

“Have you been coming to the classes lately?”

There was a brief silence on the other end, then Chu Wanning replied, “When I can.”

With that assurance, Mo Ran relaxed a little, “That’s good to hear!”

“Mn.” Chu Wanning was really short with his words today…

“It’s getting late! I’ll see you at the classroom?” Mo Ran asked casually.

Chu Wanning made another noncommittal noise, then took the cue as Mo Ran had intended. “Good night then.”

“Good night, Chu-laoshi.”

After they hung up, Mo Ran smiled and took another sip of his drink before attacking the rest of his to-call list with renewed energy.

Chapter Text

Mo Ran didn’t have much time at home, only a day or two passed before Laoshi called for him, inviting him to yet another trip. Seeing that his business partners were doing well in the classroom and Chu Wanning had said that he’d go to the classroom as well, everything at the homebase was settled, so Mo Ran left again.

Being the face of a younger generation of leaders, Mo Ran found, was very exhilarating. Everywhere he went, the classrooms introduced him as Mo Ran, a leader, a Diamond. He was something other than yet another immigrant struggling to make ends meet. The other leaders, sometimes including Laoshi, smiled at him from the back of the room just like Shi Mei used to do. Shi Mei was off on another assignment, also to inspire others in the business.

It was a few weeks until he could go back to his home classroom.

It was bustling with a few more faces that he didn’t recognize as he stood on stage, microphone in hand. This stage used to be so far away from him, but now Mo Ran owned it and spread the good news that had changed his life to others.

“You can do it, too. The present me is the future you.”

He stepped off the stage, hosted his group’s sharing, and noticed yet again that Chu Wanning wasn’t there.

Didn’t he promise to come?

Mo Ran called him after leaving the classroom.

No answer.

It wasn’t even past 11pm yet. How could Chu Wanning be asleep?

He called again. Same result.

Mo Ran called Ye Wangxi. She seemed to be familiar with Chu-laoshi.

“Hello?”

Ye Wangxi didn’t know any other information either, so the call was fairly short.

After the call ended, Ye Wangxi pursed her lips, pondering.

“What’s wrong, Xiao Ye?” Nangong Si asked from beside her on the couch.

“Chu-laoshi hasn’t been going to the classroom. That was Mo Ran just now.”

They both sat there in silence for a moment.

“When I went to the clinic a few weeks ago, I ran into Chu-laoshi and he seemed to be fine.” Nangong Si murmured to himself, “He was a little quieter than usual and spent more time with the dogs, but who wouldn’t want to spend more time with them?”

His hands caressed Naobaijin’s back; the large fluffy white of his puppy’s sprawl covered half the couch.

“I haven’t gone to the classroom in months now,” Ye Wangxi mused. “I haven’t heard from Chu-laoshi—we didn’t talk much outside of the classroom anyways—but not going to the classroom seems unlike him. When I met him, he attended every class.”

“Shouldn’t Mo Ran already know what’s going on? Why would he ask you?” Nangong Si queried.

“I don’t know.” She shifted her weight, tucking her feet under Nangong Si’s thighs.

“I’ll keep my eyes out for him next time I go to the clinic.” He offered, not knowing what else to do. They weren’t close friends with Chu Wanning, calling him out of the blue might be strange.

“Mn.” Ye Wangxi leaned over and gave Naobaijin a few pats on his head then all three settled back in and continued their YouTube video, only a little quieter than before.

During their exchange, Mo Ran had already picked up the phone to call Uncle Xue.

“Hello?”

“Uncle! Have you seen Chu Wanning lately?” Mo Ran asked as soon as Xue Zhengyong picked up.

“Yes, he’s been coming to work like usual. Why?” He seemed confused by the question.

“Thanks, Uncle!”

Mo Ran hung up the phone.

Xue Zhengyong held his phone, looking at the suddenly dark screen.

Weren’t Mo Ran and Chu Wanning on good terms?

He recalled Chu Wanning’s recent absentmindedness at work. Chu Wanning didn’t seem to be picking up wrenches instead of screwdrivers anymore, but Xue Zhengyong did notice that Chu Wanning didn’t seem fully there. The small smiles that he used to have on Takeout Thursdays seemed to have disappeared and even Lionshead Meatballs didn’t seem to bring out the same reaction anymore.

It was strange to say the least.

The very next afternoon, Mo Ran visited the shop and stormed right into the main work area where Chu Wanning was peering under the hood of a car, flashlight in hand.

“Why haven’t you been at class?” Mo Ran asked directly, completely skipping any pleasantries.

Chu Wanning nearly knocked his head into the hood, but stopped himself just in time. He took in one deep breath to compose himself before he straightened back up.

“Mo Ran.”

“Why haven’t you been at class?” Mo Ran repeated, insistent.

“Mo Ran, why are you here.” Chu Wanning’s voice was cold and flat.

“I couldn’t find you. You weren’t at class.” Mo Ran explained matter-of-factly.

He continued, “It’s the responsibility of a good leader to show up and support their people.”

“What people.” Chu Wanning deadpanned. Do you not remember that you haven’t been here for more than a month?

Mo Ran flinched, a “what about me” caught in his throat. His lips thinned.

Mo Ran barreled ahead, “Just because I leave for a little bit—”

“Yes. You were gone.” Chu Wanning cut him off. “You have been gone.” The bitterness laced in his voice was cold, brittle. He immediately wanted to take back his words; they revealed too much.

A frigid silence fell over them.

“I had to go away to grow the business.” Mo Ran flung the explanation into the widening gulf between them.

Chu Wanning hnn’d in reply.

“Following Laoshi is a rare opportunity.” Mo Ran repeated what Shi Mei told him before. “It’s the fast track to success.”

Chu Wanning’s expression shuttered. “Go follow your Laoshi then.”

“You’re supposed to be at the classroom,” when I come back.

Chu Wanning’s gaze sharpened. “Mo Ran. Why are you here.”

To bring you back. The words got caught in Mo Ran’s throat.

“I even got you a gift!” Mo Ran yelled out suddenly, desperately. He thrust the gift bag forward into Chu Wanning’s space. Chu-laoshi just looked at it blankly and made no move to accept.

The yell brought Xue Zhengyong into the work area.

“Ran’er, what are you doing here?” Xue Zhengyong’s normally cheerful smile dimmed by half once he saw the strange tableau in front of him.

Chu Wanning in his dark blue work jumpsuit, standing stiffly in front of a car, lit flashlight dangling from one hand.

Mo Ran in a white hoodie and black sweats with a golden stripe down the side, head slightly bowed while thrusting forward a light blue gift bag.

At Xue Zhengyong’s greeting, Mo Ran withdrew the gift bag. “Hi, Uncle.”

“Ran’er, it’s been a long time.”

Xue Zhengyong drew Mo Ran into a conversation, herding him into his office while exchanging small talk about the family and how everyone was. After a moment, Chu Wanning’s frozen form thawed and he turned back to the hood of the car.

Mo Ran and Chu Wanning didn’t speak again before Mo Ran left.

During one of Mo Ran’s calls to Shi Mei, he brought up the fact that Chu Wanning wasn’t going to the classroom anymore.

“It would be a shame to lose such a talent,” remarked Shi Mei, sadly. “Chu-laoshi really is the pillar of the nutrition class.”

Mo Ran waited, hopeful that Shi Mei would find a solution to the dilemma. The classroom simply wasn’t the same without Chu-laoshi’s watchful presence. The last time he’d spoken from the stage felt strange without the silent calm gaze of the person who had accompanied him for so long.

“It’s been a while since the last specialty class…” Shi Mei mused aloud. “Maybe we need to have another class soon.”

Mo Ran pounced on the idea. “I can announce one! Starting this week?”

“In two weeks. Chu-laoshi might need time to restock his demonstration kit.”

“I’ll tell the class then.” Mo Ran beamed. Chu-laoshi would definitely come back to teach.

According to the plan, Mo Ran told the attendees the next day that nutrition class was starting up again in two weeks. There was a flurry of activity after his announcement, everyone reaching for their phones to look up any contacts that would be interested in such a subject.

Mo Ran went to the shop to deliver the good news.

Chu Wanning was working on an oil change. The car was already on the lift and he was peering underneath the car at the reservoir to check for leaks.

“Chu-laoshi!” Mo Ran bounded in, enthused.

Chu Wanning nearly dropped his wrench in surprise, “Mo Ran.”

“I brought you a gift!”

Chu Wanning glanced at it. It was the same gift bag from last time.

“I bought it for you.” Mo Ran beamed at him.

“Thank you.” Chu Wanning replied, casting a quick glance at his own hands which were smeared with grease. “Hold on to it for now. My hands are dirty.”

Mo Ran grinned back, “Okay!”

There was a beat of silence before he continued, “The nutrition class is starting in two weeks. You’re free, right?”

Chu Wanning’s eyes narrowed, “Why are you here.”

“I wanted to ask you whether you’d teach nutrition class again.”

“No.”

“Why?” His tone was laced with genuine confusion.

“Why?” Chu Wanning was incredulous. Did his not being in the classroom for so long not indicate anything to Mo Ran?

“You’re our best lecturer on nutrition!” MR insisted as if appealing to his deep knowledge would solve the problem.

As if knowing how to do product demonstrations would fix everything.

As if being known as “Chu-laoshi” and “Diamond Mo Ran’s sponsor” was something he enjoyed.

As if he wanted people to flock to him when it came to technical knowledge and then immediately ignore his presence when his expertise wasn’t needed.

People were so pragmatic.

“I’m working.”

“It’ll be on Saturday!”

“Leave.”

“The classroom needs you!” Mo Ran shouted, plaintive. “Shi Mei and I need to go out of town again!”

Chu Wanning’s eyes turned flinty. “Go then.”

“We need you!”

“Leave.”

“I need you.” Mo Ran murmured, nearly inaudible.

Chu Wanning’s eyes were round with disbelief; there must be something wrong with his hearing, but something relaxed in his chest.

Mo Ran froze when he saw Chu Wanning’s expression then recalled what just fell out of his mouth.

They stared at each other.

“I…” Mo Ran couldn’t continue. The atmosphere grew unbearable and Mo Ran’s knuckles were white as he clenched reflexively around the gift bag handle.

Mo Ran collected himself, “The class needs your help.”

As soon as the words left Mo Ran’s mouth, Chu Wanning’s eyes narrowed to slits.

“I see.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “No.”

“But… Chu-laoshi…”

“Don’t call me Chu-laoshi!” Chu Wanning lashed out.

“But…” Mo Ran felt a stuffiness in his chest. Why wouldn’t Chu-laoshi just listen to him?

Chu Wanning’s eyes fell on the gift bag. “Is this why you brought a gift?”

Mo Ran just stared at him, stunned.

“You wanted a lecturer for your class so you brought me a gift?!” Chu Wanning fumed.

“No! I bought it for you!”

The ruckus brought Xue Zhengyong out of the office, right into the middle of the fray.

“Ran’er.” Xue Zhengyong’s voice sternly cut through the noise. “That’s enough.”

Both Mo Ran and Chu Wanning fell silent.

“Uncle…”

“If you want to talk to Uncle Chu, talk later.” Xue Zhengyong’s tone allowed for no argument. “I have customers outside who can hear you yelling. Go.”

Mo Ran looked lost.

“Ran’er, go.”

Mo Ran went.

That wasn’t the last he saw of Mo Ran that day though.

Mo Ran was waiting outside for him after work. That thrice-damned gift bag— a bribe, Chu Wanning reminded himself—was dangling from his hands.

Chu Wanning treated him like air and kept on walking down the street.

Mo Ran seemed to have a one-track mind. All he really did was call out “Chu-laoshi” in increasingly pleading tones and inquire whether Chu Wanning would go back to the classroom.

Chu Wanning’s jaw hurt a little with how strongly he was grinding his teeth. Mo Ran’s every mention of the classroom seemed to hollow out his chest further; it was clear what Mo Ran was after.

Finally, he snapped, “I won’t do it!”

To underscore his point, he continued, “Stop asking!”

With that, he strode away in a flurry, leaving Mo Ran stunned behind him.

Mo Ran was out of ideas. Chu-laoshi proved implacable and hadn’t even accepted the watch. Using the nutrition class as a reason to bring Chu-laoshi back to the classroom seemed like a failure and now he even had to find another leader who was willing to lecture in his stead. Mo Ran would do it, but Laoshi had announced that she was landing in a nearby city and had asked some of the local leaders to congregate there for more lessons.

He’d promised Shi Mei and Laoshi to be there.

He called Shi Mei.

“What should we do, Shi Mei? He doesn’t seem to want to come back.”

“Just give it a rest. Perhaps he needs some time to think. Anna-Jie can probably lecture instead if Chu-laoshi can’t.”

But Mo Ran couldn’t let it go.

His days were busy, meeting new people, showing the business plan, and speaking on stage, all the while thinking about how he could get Chu-laoshi back.

“Mo-laoshi! Could you please speak on Friday? We’re all curious about what your trips with Laoshi have taught you!”

Mo Ran automatically agreed with a smile—sharing, that was just what a leader did.

As he spoke that Friday about the lessons in leadership and mentorship that he learned from Laoshi, he grew more and more agitated under the worship and admiration of all those eyes.

He was the one who was invited to follow Laoshi across the United States.

He was the one who was deemed special in the eyes of the leaders.

He was the one who could now wear Gucci and Louis from head to toe.

Sure, Chu Wanning was amazing at product demonstrations, but Mo Ran—not Chu Wanning—was the Diamond.

Mo Ran was the successful one.

Chu Wanning didn’t even acknowledge him that day! He’d chased him down a whole city block!

Why wasn’t Chu Wanning listening to him?

Everyone else was!

With that ember burning in his heart, Mo Ran went directly to Chu Wanning’s apartment complex after class.

Though it’d been some time since he visited, the security guards still remembered Mo Ran from the many times that he’d done product demonstrations at Chu Wanning’s apartment. When he waved at them from the glass doors, they let him into the lobby.

“Good evening!” Mo Ran hid his simmering indignation towards Chu Wanning under a bright smile.

“Good evening! Here to visit Mr. Chu?”

Mo Ran chuckled, “It’s been a while, but I’m back!”

The security guards waved him through, also laughing. “Have a good evening!”

“You, too!” Mo Ran tossed them a reply, then immediately strode to the elevator.

He marched over to Chu Wanning’s apartment door, rapping on it briskly.

“Chu-laoshi! Chu-laoshi! I want to talk to you!”

The door stood there, unmoving.

“Chu-laoshi!”

“Chu Wanning! Open the door!”

Mo Ran grew increasingly frustrated with the lack of response. “Chu Wanning! I know you’re in there!”

Chu Wanning was in there.

When the hollering began, Chu Wanning was working on his prosthetics designs on the living room table. When Mo Ran grew louder, Chu Wanning’s face lost more and more color. When Mo Ran switched to calling his own name in full, Chu Wanning’s expression frosted over immediately.

So when he refused to teach, Mo Ran was going to forgo all politeness?

Chu Wanning sat there at his table, knuckles turning white as his grip on his mechanical pencil became tighter and tighter.

On the other side of the door, Mo Ran had stopped knocking and had progressed to kicking the door.

“Chu Wanning! Don’t think that you’re the only one who can lead the class!”

Chu Wanning had to hold himself back from responding, every fiber of his body wanting to lash out at Mo Ran. He was well aware that he wasn’t special. The only thing distinguishing him was a dogged desire for scientific accuracy and the resultant deep knowledge about the products.

He retreated to his room, where he couldn’t hear the noise.

The next morning, the door seemed to stick a little when he unlocked it. A little confused, Chu Wanning opened the door to leave, only to find that it swung open towards him much quicker than usual. Before it traveled too far, he stopped it with his foot and spotted the edge of a black suit jacket.

The blazer was shiny black with velvet-like black embroidery.

Chu Wanning peered around the door and saw Mo Ran, clearly asleep, slumped heavily against his door.

“...”

Mo Ran stayed the night?! In the hallway?

Chu Wanning’s lips thinned. He prodded Mo Ran in the shoulder—no response.

He needed to go to work.

Deeming him to be at low risk for waking, Chu Wanning readjusted his bags and slipped out, opening the door only as necessary to slide past. He gingerly stepped around Mo Ran, casting him a glance with every step to make sure that Mo Ran wasn’t waking up.

The sound of the door locking cracked through the silent hallway and Chu Wanning’s eyes darted over to Mo Ran’s face—still slack with slumber.

Chu Wanning let out a sigh of relief when he finally got to the elevator, leaving Mo Ran to guard his apartment.

Chu Wanning arrived at his apartment early that evening on edge.

Would he be accosted by Mo Ran again?

He took the stairs just in case, just in case Mo Ran was waiting by the elevators.

Looking down the hallway both ways, he managed to present a composed facade until the moment when he sighted victory.

No Mo Ran at his door.

Safe.

He had two hours of peace.

“Chu Wanning! I know you’re in there! I’m going to rip this door off if you don’t answer me!”

The pounding on the door just didn’t stop.

Chu Wanning retreated to his room yet again when the racket grew too loud to ignore.

Why was Mo Ran so insistent now?

It was obvious that Mo Ran had not even given him a moment’s thought while away; the business-like tone of that one phone call was enough indication of that.

Could good lecturers be that hard to find?

While Chu Wanning knew the information backwards and forwards, those demonstrations weren’t rocket science. There were definitely people who could teach the class.

Then why…

A daring thought bubbled up to the surface.

Could Mo Ran actually be missing him?

No. No… That couldn’t be right.

Before he realized it though, Chu Wanning did crack open the bedroom door.

What he heard next through the front door crushed that budding thought into dust.

“Chu Wanning! Don’t think you’re so amazing! There are plenty of people who can teach the class!”

The yelling stopped.

Clearly those were parting words.

Chu Wanning caught himself in an aborted movement towards the door, but then the words sank in.

Hah. He knew it.

He slowly slumped down to the floor, body chilling as his thoughts circled round and round.

He knew that Mo Ran didn’t care about Chu Wanning—only Chu-laoshi.

Mo Ran had left him behind long ago.

Chu Wanning went through the motions the next morning, mechanically making instant coffee and pulling a breakfast bar from the cupboard.

The door opened normally with no Mo Ran there to block it.

He stepped outside and as the lock clicked home, an auntie from next door picked that moment to pop out.

“Wanning!” She gave a bright smile, friendly as always.

“Luo-Jie, good morning.” She’d told him early on that Auntie Luo made her feel old and after several repetitions, he’d acquiesced to her request to be called Jie even though she was probably a few decades older than he was.

“Aiya, where are you going so early?”

“To the clinic, Jie.”

“To the clinic? For those dogs of yours?”

Chu Wanning nodded curtly, then added for politeness’ sake, “Yes, Jie.”

“Such a good young man…” She grinned at him before jumping into the real topic she wanted to ask about.

“These last two nights, who was that at your door?” Her eyes glinted with curiosity.

Chu Wanning’s heart clenched and the tips of his ears began to flush red, “No one.”

“He kept on yelling your name…” She mused aloud, “A friend?”

He stayed silent, chest hurting and ears burning.

“Hmm?” She pressed him for an answer already standing next to him rather than peeking from her door.

“No one in particular,” Chu Wanning refused to put words to the situation.

“Aiya, he was so loud that I couldn’t even sleep until midnight these two days… You see these eyebags of mine have grown so…” She sighed theatrically, beckoning him to come closer.

“I apologize, Jie.” Chu Wanning’s ears were fully red by this time.

“Young people these days…” She tsk’d at him and paused, waiting for a reaction.

When he didn’t respond or explain, she leaned in closer, “He was even sleeping at your door yesterday; must have been at least someone you know…” She eyed him, catching the nearly invisible flinch. “You can tell your Jie…”

“I’ll be late to the clinic.” Chu Wanning blurted out, face expressionless but mind blank with panic.

He dropped his keys with a metallic clink.

He crouched down, collecting the keys and gathering his composure around him like a cloak.

“I apologize, Jie, I have to go.”

He fled.

He couldn’t let that happen again.

Once he got to his car and calmed down a little, he pulled out his phone and looked up the contact for the complex.

Good morning,

I’m Chu Wanning of apartment 358.

Please do not allow the man, Mo Ran, into the apartment complex without my express permission as he is harassing me by yelling at the door. Neighbors have expressed already that the noise is keeping them up at night.

He was here yesterday and the night before around 10pm wearing a full suit…

Chu Wanning grimly sent out the email to Security.

Mo Ran had forced him into this.

Like clockwork, Mo Ran arrived as soon as he had finished up with all his work for the day. Though the complex was fairly secure and normally people would need to buzz a specific apartment and get allowed in, Security recognized him, so he usually skipped that step.

This time though, when he tapped on the glass, the people at security didn’t immediately let him in.

Thinking that they simply hadn’t seen him, Mo Ran knocked louder.

Carl, the security guy who had greeted him so merrily only a few days before, glanced up, then immediately back down.

Strange.

Mo Ran knocked again and was ignored.

He tried several more times. No reaction from the front desk.

Mo Ran turned to the keypad and typed in Chu Wanning’s apartment number. The dial tone rang and rang and rang.

Mo Ran hung up after a minute and turned back to the door.

Clearly knocking wasn’t working. “Hey, can anybody hear me?”

Carl the security guard looked up, saw it was Mo Ran, then tipped his head back down towards the video screens.

Mo Ran’s irritation flared. “Carl, what’s going on? Why won’t you let me in?!”

Carl walked up to the glass door, staying a few feet away from where the door would swing, just in case something untoward happened. “Sorry, Mo Ran. There was a report that you were harassing our community members. Please go back home.”

“Harassing?” Mo Ran spat out. “Me?!”

Carl stared back serenely. “Just doing my job, Mo Ran. I’m sorry, but you have to leave.”

“It was Chu Wanning wasn’t it.” The realization dawned on Mo Ran’s face and his expression twisted into something dark. “It was Wanning wasn’t it?!”

His eyes were lit up with fury.

Mo Ran turned towards the keypad and punched in the numbers for Chu Wanning’s apartment again as if possessed. When the dial tone rang, he glared at the keypad as if wanting to bore a hole into it with his gaze alone. A growl started low in his throat.

“Wanning, answer the damned phone!” He snapped.

The call continued to ring.

“Wanning!” His volume continued to rise.

He glanced at Carl who was still standing there near the door and turned his rage onto this new target.

“Wanning, get Wanning out here!”

Carl stood there, impassive. “Mo Ran, please leave.”

“Wanning, I know you’re home!” Mo Ran shouted, getting closer and closer to the glass doors. “Call Wanning out!”

“Mo Ran! You’re causing a disruption.”

Something in Carl’s tone grated. The dial tone of the keypad system continued to sound.

“A disruption? Me?” I’ll show you!

Mo Ran pressed himself against the glass doors of the lobby.

“Wanning! OPEN THE DOOR!”

He pounded on the door. The glass was surprisingly durable.

“WANNING, GET THE HELL OUT HERE!” Mo Ran yelled into the lobby through the door; his eyes gleamed bright with rage.

He abruptly turned towards the keypad which was still emitting the dial tone, “YOU HEAR ME?!”

“GET THE HELL OUT HERE!!” Mo Ran roared.

A few guards came up from behind Mo Ran, “Excuse me, sir, please follow me.”

Mo Ran didn’t hear them, continuing to spew vitriol at the keypad, at the door, at all who blocked him from speaking sense to Chu-laoshi.

“SIR! You need to leave now.” The guards grabbed hold of Mo Ran’s wrists. Mo Ran reflexively tried to shake them off, but they were officers trained to deal with stubborn resistant subjects.

“WANNING! WANNING!!” Mo Ran howled as he was dragged away.

Chu Wanning woke up refreshed, finally spared from a Mo Ran yelling at his door the whole night. He’d fallen asleep early the previous night, partly because he’d been exhausted from tension the two nights before and partly in order to avoid hearing any shouting from the door.

It seemed to have worked. He’d slept like a charm.

He puttered around his apartment, tinkering with some prosthetic prototypes he had laying around and adjusting some of the drawings as he nibbled on a breakfast bar unthinkingly.

It was 10 am by the time he thought to leave for groceries (aka ready-made-meals). There was a shop along the way which sold fresh sweet soymilk and savory tofu pudding.

He walked downstairs and had just nodded his greetings to the man at the security book, when his plans were set on pause.

“Ah, Mr. Chu, hold on a moment.” Sam called out to him.

Chu Wanning came to a stop and turned to face Sam.

“I have in the log book that the man you submitted a report about did come to the complex last night. He was removed by Security for disrupting the peace.”

Chu Wanning’s eyebrows furrowed somewhat, but besides this small change, nothing else showed in his expression.

“He showed some signs of resistance, but the security officer on duty had called for backup so everything was resolved easily.” The security officer continued, “Rest assured, Mr. Chu, he never made it past the lobby.”

Luo-Jie, who often stayed in the lobby to cross-stitch and overhear tidbits, walked up to intercept Chu Wanning right after Sam finished updating him.

“Oh? You submitted a report on him? I thought you didn’t know him?” A glint of mischief was in her eyes.

“He’s no one.” Chu Wanning remained firm.

“He wouldn’t have stayed in front of your door that night if you didn’t know him.” She laughed when she saw how Chu Wanning’s brows knitted together even more tightly.

Chu Wanning had no way to explain away Mo Ran’s behavior, so he said nothing at all.

“Ahh… he’s so dedicated to trying to talk to you.” She commented, observing Chu Wanning’s reactions carefully.

“No…” He’s just angry that I‘m not falling in line. As the uncharitable thought flitted past, his lips thinned.

“I…” was supposed to go back to the classroom when he asked for support.

I am a terrible sponsor to him.

His eyes shuttered as his frustration and anger turned inwards.

Mo Ran had looked up to him before, but they’d long since separated in their thoughts on how to run the business.

“Luo-Jie, I’ve got to go.” He gave her one last strained smile, then turned to walk away.

It was better this way.

Chu Wanning saw flickers of Mo Ran everywhere. Whenever he saw the silhouette of someone in a fitted suit, tall and stylish, he’d duck into a corner until the person had passed.

That caution stood him in good stead until…

“Chu-laoshi!”

Chu Wanning’s heart stopped at the call, and then he walked faster.

“Chu-laoshi!”

He sped up, almost breaking into a run.

His wrist got caught by a hand, large and warm.

“Chu-laoshi!”

Chu Wanning spun around from the force of the tug.

“What.” Chu Wanning’s eyes could kill.

“Chu-laoshi.” Mo Ran’s dimpled smile, those beaming eyes, all of it seemed the same. Was that a wisp of relief in that gaze?

“I finally caught you.”

Chu Wanning bristled. “And?”

“I just wanted to talk.”

“You yelled all you wanted to say at my door.”

“You wouldn’t answer my calls.” Mo Ran scratched his head. His suddenly sheepish expression didn’t fit in with the casually cool outfit he was wearing. The Mo Ran from before would definitely not wear jogging pants with the Gucci logo printed down the side.

Mo Ran continued as if he didn’t see the completely unamused look from Chu Wanning, “The class starts next week. We need you.”

There it was again—“we”.

“You’re our best lecturer, I don’t know why you won’t agree to teach again.”

For a moment, Chu Wanning felt his resolve crumbling a little. He knew how to present the information with all the necessary caveats; his care in choosing his words ensured that he’d never overstate supplement claims and would temper the misguided enthusiasm of the new people whose minds were only on how to sell more.

“Laoshi said there would always be a place for talents to be used.”

Talent. Apparently that was all he was.

“I have to leave town soon and I’d—”

“Again?” Chu Wanning cut Mo Ran off.

“Yes, Laoshi invited me to Chicago.”

Chu Wanning thought about the last time he went to the classroom, being called on for technical questions and then ignored when there weren’t any. A chill crept gradually down his arms.

“How long?”

“A month, perhaps.”

The classroom held little warmth now.

“Find someone else to teach.”

“Chu-laoshi?”

“I won’t do it.”

Chu Wanning had already turned away.

Walked away.

Away from “Chu-laoshi.”

Mo Ran would find another who was capable.

Don’t think you’re so amazing! There are plenty of people who can teach the class!

That was the truth after all.

Chicago was cold. Mo Ran wrapped his black scarf around more tightly, trying to block out the wind. This wasn’t known as the Windy City for nothing.

Though speaking to this small-fry classroom wasn’t what Mo Ran would call fulfilling or even interesting, Laoshi called—he had to answer.

After one of the meetings, he pulled aside someone and asked them if there were any good shopping destinations in Chicago. He’d been feeling an itch under his skin ever since Chu-laoshi had refused to come back despite his kind offer; perhaps a new watch would help get rid of that.

He walked into the Patek Philippe at the Magnificent Mile; it was a beautiful store. The rich emerald green accent wall with its ripples starkly set off the gold of the Rolex symbol in one alcove of the fine jewelry and timepiece store. The floor gleamed in reflective cream and the chandeliers of clear crystals illuminated the space to a daylight white.

Mo Ran, in yet another of his white button-downs paired with sleek black suit pants and his ever-present Gucci belt and black Gucci high tops, seemed right at home. The attendant immediately scurried over; this patron had money for sure.

Mo Ran waved off the help, wanting to peruse without the jabbering of another voice.

He found himself drawn to the Tag Heuers. He already had his signature Rolex, but he needed to round out his watch collection with some other styles.

A luxury watch is the key to a successful man’s appearance.

He looked over the collection, poring over the myriad of styles. There were many options in automatic movements as the Double Diamond had counseled, but in his colors of black, bronze, and gold, there were only a handful of models.

He peered at them, still somewhat dazzled by all the different dials on each watch face. Without regular numbers, it was really difficult to tell the time. Roman numerals were hard enough, but some watches didn’t even have that, relying only on circles or dashes to mark in 5 minute increments.

He was Mo Ran—minted Diamond—he wouldn’t let the lack of numbers stop him.

He bought a Tag Heuer watch in black with gold markings and no numbers just to prove them wrong.

He could be as high-class as the rest of them.

He wore it to the classroom that night.

No one commented on it, but he was sure that all the other men in the room knew.

It’s new. I just bought it. Spending $3000 on a watch is nothing to me.

He smirked, his teeth glinting with a sharp bite.

He shared an anecdote from Laoshi, then quoted her and began to explain the concepts behind how to be a better leader. The great thing about following Laoshi was that many of the lessons were copy-paste. He’d inject some of his own personal flair—Mo Ran had an abundance of charm and he knew it—but the overall structure was already built and the concepts easy to memorize.

Being taught piece-by-piece how to reach success—what a departure from needing to work long hours in the kitchen, learning tricks and shortcuts only by observing others and picking up scraps over time. Laoshi really did change the course of his life, but only because he, Mo Ran, was special.

She’d seen something in him and lifted him up.

His thoughts drifted a little as he went over the points one by one. He’d spoken the same words dozens of times, Las Vegas, Arkansas, everywhere. The focused gazes from the audience, the rapt attention they paid to his words, the loud applause as he reached different highlights of his speech—all of these were his due.

They clapped in unison when he made the next point and he waited a moment for the noise to die down before continuing.

How many times had he said these same examples?

It had to have been more than twenty times…

“Good job, A’Ran,” Shi Mei greeted him as he came down from the stage.

Mo Ran smiled back reflexively—“Thanks!”—but he didn’t stop to chat.

It didn’t feel as meaningful anymore, the congratulations, the “well done”s.

He didn’t know when it had changed.

“Vanilla, I failed him.” Chu Wanning murmured to the fluffy chocolate labrador.

Vanilla whined back, picking up the slight distress in his voice.

He stroked her soft fur, partly to soothe her and partly to calm himself.

It was time for her periodic checkup, so she was sitting up on top of the exam table, brown eyes almost level with Chu Wanning’s. She nudged him with her nose.

“Vanilla…” A ghost of a smile flitted across his face.

“He did want me to come back, I think.” Chu Wanning continued to ponder aloud as he felt where her stump was attached to the prosthetic leg.

“He was insistent that I do, but I’m sure he’s already forgotten Chu-laoshi.” He pressed down, checking for tenderness. She sat there, still. “Shi Mei’s a much better sponsor.”

It didn’t seem like there were any sore spots from rubbing against the metal. He peered at it with a flashlight, then picked up the small wrench for the next step.

“I wasn’t good enough in the business.” He smiled a bitter smile and moved onto testing the tightness of the joint and the range of motion.

“The business was for everyone. I just couldn’t do it.” Chu Wanning’s smile faded, “I tried.”

“It was for everyone. Why couldn’t I even do the first step and recruit someone?”

She looked at him with limpid eyes, not understanding the question.

He felt his throat tightening reflexively, a shadow of how it would close up every time he tried to talk to someone about the business.

“I didn’t support him as a sponsor; he surpassed me in the business in less than two years.” He put down her prosthetic paw, giving her a gentle pat.

“I couldn’t lead by example; I couldn’t sell; I couldn’t do anything for him.” He stroked her back, eyes suspiciously wet.

“Why?”

Vanilla snuffled at him, putting her gleaming metal paw forward onto his left hand as if in comfort.

He buried his head into her side.

“Why couldn’t I do anything?”

His voice was muffled and sad.

“I couldn’t even stay.”

Chapter Text

By the time Mo Ran wrapped up his trip, a month had gone by. It was a month of speaking to worshipful audiences who dogged his footsteps, people who treated his every word as gold.

He wasn’t the highest ranking person who was there to be sure, but Laoshi and her closest disciples had many other things to take care of; Mo Ran, as the face of the new generation of leaders, was the one who was sent the most to the front lines where he would throw Laoshi’s wisdom out into the crowd.

He was still learning so many stories, the mindset for success, and other tips and tricks from Laoshi, but something seemed to be missing. It just didn’t feel as exhilarating as before. He chalked it up to being in unfamiliar surroundings and not having enough good Asian food—Chicago and the other cities that they toured through weren’t known for their Asian cuisine.

When he finally made his way back, Mo Ran visited Uncle Xue’s shop. He’d meant to drive back home, take a shower, and then see Uncle Xue after a nap, but he’d made the wrong exit and was closer to the shop, so he just continued onwards.

“Uncle Xue!” He called out loudly as he walked through the door, the shop’s chimes tinkling behind him.

“Ran’er!” Xue Zhengyong wrapped him up in a bear hug, patting him firmly on the back forcefully. “How long has it been?”

“A month, Uncle!”

“Ran’er, it’s good to see you.” Xue Zhengyong leaned back from the hug, examining Mo Ran closely. “You’re almost as handsome as me!” He laughed with great mirth.

Mo Ran grinned back, “I wouldn’t dare claim that!”

It felt normal, safe.

When Xue Zhengyong released him from the hug, Mo Ran handed him the bag from his hands. “Pastries for everyone.” He murmured, explaining.

Xue Zhengyong laughed, “Ah, call Yuheng over. We’ll enjoy it together.”

Mo Ran made a sound of acknowledgement and strode through to the shop.

Chu Wanning was nowhere to be found, but there were two, three cars sitting there, waiting for attention.

Mo Ran circled around the first car, nearly tripping over an outstretched leg.

“Ow!” Mo Ran yelped, catching himself before he face-planted into a stray wrench and some bolts on the ground.

A quiet grunt of pain could be heard from underneath the minivan.

“Chu-laoshi?” Mo Ran queried.

Chu Wanning ignored him in favor of continuing to work.

“Chu-laoshi?”

Still no response.

“Chu-laoshi.” His voice took on a commanding quality.

Chu Wanning’s eyebrow twitched at the authoritative tone.

“I’m working.” Chu Wanning’s words were a little muffled, but the irritation was clear.

Mo Ran crouched down, the soft fleece of his black Nike joggers hitting the floor.

“You can take a break.” Mo Ran said, voice warm. “I brought pastries.”

Chu Wanning stilled.

“You brought them?” He blurted out.

“Yes, Shi Mei and I had lunch and he wanted to go to 85C,” Mo Ran murmured, fondness coloring his voice. “I just bought some extra spicy sausage rolls and jalapeno cream cheese buns while I was there.”

Both spicy—Chu Wanning bristled. There was nothing for him.

“Come out,” Mo Ran insisted. “There are pastries! Shi Mei said that Laoshi said ‘good things must be shared’ and so I brought them for everyone.”

Shi Mei. Laoshi.

Mo Ran couldn’t say even a few sentences without mentioning one of the two.

“Chu-laoshi, you love pastries.” Mo Ran coaxed.

Not spicy ones. Chu Wanning snapped, “Mo Ran, I’m not your laoshi anymore.”

Mo Ran reared back. “Why are you like this?”

Chu Wanning slid out from under the car, eyes blazing, “I’m not Chu-laoshi anymore!”

“Then, Chu Wanning, there are pastries!”

The use of his given name was even more grating. What gave Mo Ran, this young whippersnapper, the right?

Chu Wanning shot up, towering over Mo Ran, “Don’t call me that!”

Mo Ran stared at him, stung, surprised, and hurt. “Then what am I supposed to call you? Chu-ge?” Mo Ran also got up from the floor.

Chu Wanning didn’t respond to the question. He seethed in a roiling mix of anger over several things: the reminder of the “Chu-laoshi” position he had wanted to leave behind, the insincerity of offering a treat picked out by circumstance that one of the recipients couldn’t eat, and the sting of being called his full name by an upstart youth.

“Go! I’m working!”

Their exchange could be heard from Xue Zhengyong’s office.

“What’s going on?” He marched in on the tableau of Mo Ran and Chu Wanning glaring at each other.

“Mo Ran was just about to leave.” Chu Wanning declared.

I even brought pastries. It wasn’t worth it, trying to be nice to Chu Wanning.

“Sorry, Uncle. See you.”

He stormed out, leaving silence in his wake.

After putting on his suit jacket, Mo Ran walked to his collection to find the perfect piece for that evening’s class, hand grazing lightly over the watchfaces. They gleamed back at him in black, silver, and gold.

There was only one outlier.

He stopped over the figure of the dog who was standing guard.

He stilled.

The sharp cutting whip of Chu Wanning’s voice that day reverberated in his ears. “Is this why you brought a gift?”

And then the last volley only a day ago. “Mo Ran was just about to leave.”

He found his fingers gripping the watch tightly, the metal links cold against his skin.

Just as unyielding as the person who kept on rejecting his overtures.

And as cold as the glass door shutting him out.

He squeezed the watch tighter as if to crush it to pieces, but when he opened his hand back up, it was his palm that was indented with redness.

“Argh!” He flung the watch away. What use was it anyways? Why did he even bother?

Why did he even bother?!

What did it even matter?!

What did he do wrong?!

He grabbed the box that housed his collection and swept it to the floor with a thud.

He turned his heel and stormed out.

He appeared at class that day with no watch.

No one noticed.

After Mo Ran and Chu Wanning had fallen out, Xue Zhengyong had sat Chu Wanning down for drinks after work one day.

Over white pear blossom wine, he’d teased out the barest outline of what had happened. Chu Wanning was close-lipped about what exactly he and Mo Ran had disagreed on, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to be part of the multilevel marketing company going forward.

After Chu Wanning mentioned how much extra time he would have for prosthetics now that he wasn’t going to teach classes and do product demonstrations, Xue Zhengyong took another long sip of his wine.

“Yuheng, did you enjoy teaching?” There had been a hint of warmth in Chu Wanning’s voice as he’d described the classes.

Chu Wanning didn’t respond directly, only taking a sip himself.

“Some students were tolerable,” he stated mildly. An image came to mind of sparkling focused eyes and a bright dimpled smile. If he didn’t think of the more recent events, teaching could be considered fulfilling.

Used to Chu Wanning understating things, Xue Zhengyong chortled, “Tolerable, eh?” He slapped his knee, “Why not teach then?”

“I have a foreign degree.” Chu Wanning murmured back. He knew that international degrees were essentially worth less than the paper they were printed on here in the States. The local public universities had more name recognition to local companies and colleges than Tsinghua University, one of the top universities in China.

Xue Zhengyong pondered the issue.

“I have some contacts and can ask around.”

“There’s surely a way!” He finally proclaimed.

And that was that.

Xue Zhengyong came back to him a few days later, triumphant.

“If you get a Master’s degree in the U.S., I think you can!”

Chu Wanning looked at him blankly from where he was tightening up the last hose clamp, the question clear in his eyes.

“The teaching thing!” Xue Zhengyong’s voice was boisterous, enthusiastic.

“Only a Master’s?”

“Yes, teaching at community college only requires a Master’s.” Xue Zhengyong paused, “Unless you want to get the PhD so that you can teach at a University?”

Chu Wanning absorbed this new information. A Master’s… That was within reach.

Xue Zhengyong speculated out loud, struck with inspiration, “You can even have an engineering workshop where your students learn how to make prosthetics…”

Chu Wanning put down his ratchet. He could help the dogs another way. Perhaps develop other prosthetics with the resources of a college.

It felt… like his world might be expanding.

“Thank you.”

It would be a rough few years, but Xue Zhengyong had insisted on his applying to all of the local Master’s programs available to increase his chances; the scattershot method had worked out and now, he had classwork again. It’d been a while.

Night classes were hard to balance out schedule-wise, but Chu Wanning, ever persevering, somehow managed to keep working at the shop, going to the clinic, and handling the coursework.

Chu Wanning peered at the text from the clinic veterinarian. All the preliminary numbers were there, so he began to sketch out his design. It would probably be more efficient to simply design on the computer so that he wouldn’t always need to sketch out the basic form, but there was something about drawing it out that calmed his mind and put him into a meditative mood.

He worked on the sketch, then moved a few engineering textbooks aside to clear a space on his desk. He pieced together the prototype until late into the night.

“Please welcome Double Diamond, Mo Ran!” The announcer declared right before the room exploded into cheers.

Mo Ran strode onto the stage with a beaming grin, “Thank you, thank you.” He murmured as he accepted the microphone.

“How is everyone doing today? Before I start, I’d like to thank my upline, Shi Mei.”

He had the crowd in laughter; he had them mesmerized.

He finished yet another story he’d learned from Laoshi and gazed down at the front row where the attendees were frantically scribbling down his wisdom.

He described how he had started from nothing, how he’d climbed up the ladder, how now he could afford vacations he used to only dream of, watches that he’d only seen on other people’s wrists, anything that he wanted.

The audience cheered and clapped.

One person in the front row was several beats slower than everyone else, clapping only after writing down one last word from Mo Ran.

The clamor of the room seemed to fade. As Mo Ran looked at that figure, he could see the shadow of someone else who also would earnestly write down every single word.

“You can do it.”

“You can definitely make it to Executive.”

Mo Ran felt bitterness well up. He’d made it, but that person wasn’t here to see it.

The crowd calmed back down.

In the quiet lull, he gathered himself back together and jumped into his next story.

Chu Wanning stooped down, letting the dog in his arms touch the floor while keeping a firm hold on him just in case. Macaroon took a moment, somewhat disoriented by the new balance of his body now that he had four legs instead of three.

He took a step or two with Chu Wanning’s hands still supporting his body. He started to regain confidence with every forward movement.

Chu Wanning let go.

Macaroon wobbled, but did not fall.

“Mr. Chu!” Nangong Si burst in.

Macaroon bounded off to greet him, barking in excitement.

“No, it’s not completely secure yet!”

Nangong Si chuckled, amused by such an enthusiastic reception and dropped smoothly into a crouch to stop Macaroon from moving any further.

He let Macaroon sniff his fingers then scruffed up his fur lovingly when the little dog whined for real attention.

Chu Wanning examined where the prosthetic leg met the stump to make sure it hadn’t loosened up, then sighed with relief.

“Good boy,” he murmured before treating Macaroon to a bone.

A small smile blossomed on his face, a stark contrast with his face which was lined with exhaustion.

Nangong Si skritched Macaroon behind his ears, “Mr. Chu, are you alright? You look a little under the weather.”

“It’s nothing,” Chu Wanning waved off his concern.

The other didn’t ask again, just looked at him quietly.

Chu Wanning didn’t mean to say anything, but when Nangong Si kept on looking at him with worry despite the long silence, he filled in a few details,“It’s been a long time. It’s strange to be learning everything in English.”

“Oh, your engineering classes?” Nangong Si guessed.

Chu Wanning confirmed with a nod.

“At least the equations don’t change much, right?”

“Mn.”

Mo Ran adjusted his shirtsleeves again, golden custom cufflinks gleaming at the cuffs.

Today, his best downline, Song Qiutong would get recognized on stage for reaching Emerald; as her sponsor, he had to show up dressed to the nines, especially since he was the one who would be onstage handing out the commemorative trophies.

She walked out onto the stage when it was her turn, resplendent in her exquisitely tailored outfit.

Mo Ran heard her first sentence acknowledging him and smiled.

After the entire ceremony was done, she insisted on treating him to a late night dinner.

For once he didn’t have anything else to do, so he agreed.

“I hear that this restaurant’s Lionshead Meatballs are the best. Do you mind if I order it?” Song Qiutong queried as she looked through the menu.

“It’s your day, order it then!”

It wasn’t until Song Qiutong left to go to the restroom that he fell into a daze looking at the half-eaten dish sitting quietly next to the pork chops and stir-fried chrysanthemum leaves.

Lionshead Meatballs were Chu Wanning’s favorite.

Mo Ran could still remember the bright gleam in those eyes whenever this dish would arrive at the table.

He looked up when someone slid into the seat across from him, “Chu—”

Song Qiutong was busy pulling out the chair next to her so she had a place to put her purse. She turned to him. “Did you say something?”

“Ah, no, it’s nothing.” Mo Ran grinned weakly.

“I’m not your laoshi anymore.”

That wasn’t a name he could call anymore.

5 years later

Chu Wanning stuffed a few errant papers into his laptop bag. After casting an eye over his still messy office to make sure that he didn’t miss any of the student’s test papers, he turned to the door and left.

The sound of his office door locking rang out in the silent corridor.

Chu Wanning was always one of the last associate professors to leave. The work of an associate was never over—whenever Chu Wanning walked by like a wraith to grab some terrible coffee, he’d hear the others grumble about it in the breakroom—thus, Chu Wanning dutifully stayed late to complete the grading, make up new quizzes, and ensure that his notes were in order for the upcoming lectures.

The click of his formal shoes echoed down the hallway as he strode out the building and the heavy main door creaked as it swung open into the night.

It was honestly a miracle that Xue Zhengyong was able to find a community college which would ignore the fact that his bachelors was foreign when hiring, but true to his promise Xue Zhengyong had done all he could to find a place for Chu Wanning once Chu Wanning had graduated with a domestic Master’s degree. Since Xue Zhengyong was losing his best—and only—experienced worker, Chu Wanning had agreed to stay part time at the mechanics shop and train up one of the younger apprentices in the tricks of the trade.

Really, Xue Zhengyong was a true friend.

It was Xue Zhengyong who had helped him clean out his apartment and move out.

It was Xue Zhengyong who had come with this idea of being an associate professor.

It was Xue Zhengyong who found this college through his connections.

Chu Wanning couldn’t say it out loud, but he had a debt to Xue Zhengyong that he could never repay.

If he had to train dozens of apprentices for Xue Zhengyong, he still wouldn’t mind.

He swung by the small shop which was generally frequented only by caffeinated students desperate to finish their problem sets to buy a quick sandwich for dinner. His stomach had been protesting for about an hour, but there hadn’t been a convenient break in his grading.

The paths of the college weren't well lit, lights spaced too far apart to fully illuminate the area; however, the main square in front of the library was a main crossing and was appropriately lit up even though it was already 9pm in the evening. He sat down on a bench to quietly finish his sandwich while staring idly at the now-familiar structures of the campus.

It was quiet at night.

The low chatter of commuter students filled the square right as Chu Wanning was finishing off his sandwich and collecting his things to leave. The students who took evening classes weren’t as loud as the ones during the day, most of them already in their late 20s or early 30s and looking to either get their first degree after missing the opportunity early in life or coming for continuing education credits in their professional field. They often had family or other obligations waiting at home for them, so they tended to simply take their classes and leave campus instead of hanging around like the younger students.

He tossed the wrappers into the trash can and began walking through the now empty square to the path that led to the parking lot. He was almost to the path when—

“Chu, Chu-laoshi?” A voice called out suddenly to him in astonishment.

He turned around instinctively, eyes widening as he took in the speaker.

A young man, dressed casually, standing up from where he’d been sitting on the bench nearest to the path.

A young man with black eyes which glinted purple in the lights of the square.

A young man who had yelled at his door, demanding to be let in.

A young man who had stood in the spotlight while his upline had shamefully done nothing to help him there.

A young man who had once looked at him, smiling, wanting to be taught.

A young man who had once cooked him many plates of osmanthus-glazed lotus root even though he’d never said that it was his favorite.

A young man who now approached him with wide eyes and surprise with a hint of warmth in his voice.

“Is it really you?”