Chapter Forty-Seven: The Literature of Daiyu

The true nature of humanity can be summed up in one phrase: “It’s irresistible.” Tu Junfang embodied this perfectly.

After dinner, the three of them lounged on the sofa and began a game of Dou Dizhu, leaving Ma Lao Wu to wash the dishes and handle the tedious aftermath.

“Pair of threes~”
“Pass!”
“What, seriously? You’re both passing? Fine... Pair of nines~ I only have one card left.”

Tu Junfang shouted gleefully, clutching his cards, showing not a shred of self-awareness befitting a captive.

Ye Yan, utterly speechless, said, “Tu Junfang, you really are the most disgraceful master of Quanxing I’ve ever seen—bar none...”

Even someone like Master Lü, clueless as he was, knew to play up his status as a Quanxing member and would haggle before doing chores. But this guy—completely oblivious.

“Thank you for the compliment.”
Ye Yan: “...”

Resigned, Ye Yan threw down a pair of tens, beating Tu Junfang’s nines.

“Pass.”
Tu Junfang nonchalantly picked his nose and shrugged.

“Four sixes.”

Just as Ye Yan was about to play his next card, Chen Duo silently tossed out a bomb.

Ye Yan: “???”

“Duo Duo, he’s the landlord,” Ye Yan said, dumbfounded, pointing at Tu Junfang.

“I know,” Chen Duo replied earnestly. “But didn’t you just teach me that there are no brothers at the card table? When it’s time to strike, strike—never give the enemy even a sliver of breathing room.”

Ye Yan’s mouth twisted.

Am I the enemy here? Is that really what I meant? I was hinting that we, master and apprentice, should join forces to teach Tu Junfang a lesson—not for you to bomb me!

Clutching his chest, Ye Yan felt utterly betrayed.

He was down to his last card—about to win. But staring at his lone five, he couldn’t help but sink into thought, feeling his blood pressure rise.

Chen Duo, however, remained blissfully unaware. When it came to reading people, she was as blank as a sheet of paper. Expecting her to be clever was about as reliable as believing Zhang Chulan was a playboy.

He should never have expected anything.

“Forget it, your move.” Ye Yan flipped his cards over in front of him and waved at Chen Duo, who nodded, studied her cards for a long time... and played a single three.

Ye Yan nearly coughed up blood.

Tu Junfang, quick as lightning, threw down a two—the highest card in the game. With no one to stop him, he easily played his last card.

“Victory! I win!” Tu Junfang cheered, while Ye Yan felt his composure unravel. He thought maybe he ought to find Old Li for a game of chess—only by crushing weak opponents could he soothe his wounded heart.

“Ma Lao Wu, are you done with the dishes? Come take my place when you’re finished—I need to use the restroom,” Ye Yan called toward the kitchen, tossing his cards aside and stretching his neck.

“All done, all done!” Hearing the word “cards,” Ma Lao Wu perked up, his short legs moving as fast as they could carry him. In a few steps, he was in the living room, grinning as he nestled next to Ye Yan.

“Your turn,” Ye Yan said, rising to give up his seat.

Tu Junfang was shuffling the deck, while Chen Duo sat deep in thought, earnestly reflecting on how she had lost the last round.

Returning to his room, Ye Yan lay on the bed, habitually pulling out his phone and opening his contacts. After some deliberation, he decided to send Xia He a message to check in.

“Are you there?”

He sent the probing message, and the lack of an exclamation mark on the screen eased his earlier frustration.

Just as Ye Yan was racking his brain for a way to break the ice and close the distance, a reply came in first.

“Barring any surprises, I’ll be around for the next few decades /indifferent/indifferent”

Ye Yan: “...”

“Are you still upset?” he asked cautiously.

Then came the reply: “My tongue is clumsier than other girls’, so just think of me as an actress. Whether I’m angry or not—what’s the point in discussing it?”

Ye Yan: “...”

Classic Xia He—her biting sarcasm could put Lin Daiyu to shame.

Ye Yan gave a wry smile. “Don’t be mad. There’s really nothing between me and Chen Duo—it’s just a simple master-apprentice relationship. Duo Duo’s had a tough life... I’ve always treated her like a little sister...”

He rushed to explain, but Xia He remained unmoved, her tone growing even colder.

“Duo Duo? Tch~” she sneered. “You have plenty of other sisters, ones who chat better, act sweeter, and know how to cheer up their big brother... So why keep an old, fading woman like me around at all?”

Ye Yan: ...

He was thoroughly exasperated. “Come on, Xia He, how could you think that?”

“How should I think, then?”

Clearly having resolved to be unreasonable, Xia He’s words grew sharper. “So now you’re not even going to explain? Look at you—just a few words from me and you turn on me like this?”

Well then...

Ye Yan felt utterly defeated.

He could see it now—she was determined to be unreasonable. No explanation would work; she didn’t even want to listen.

“Woman, don’t be ungrateful,” Ye Yan decided to be firm and replied resolutely—only to see a huge exclamation mark pop up on the screen.

[The other party is not your friend...]

Damn it... Ye Yan was so infuriated he nearly threw his phone.

What a mess.

...

...

Yingtan.

In a hidden corner of the city.

Lying in bed, Xia He put down her phone, unable to suppress a faint smile.

At least that bastard has a bit of conscience left.

Still knows how to comfort me.

Her movements, though slight, woke “Dou Mei,” who was sleeping in the neighboring bed.

This middle-aged woman, with faint wrinkles and a gentle air, sat up in her nightgown and looked at Xia He, smiling as she teased, “Your little man again?”

“Not little man—bastard,” Xia He retorted, rolling over to face Dou Mei, her expression solemn, which made the other woman laugh.

“So he’s been downgraded again?!”

Dou Mei, one of the Four Maniacs, was among Xia He’s closest friends in the Quanxing circle. She knew all about Xia He’s affairs, including her little moods.

For instance, when Xia He was angry, she’d call Ye Yan a bastard; when she wasn’t, he’d be her little man.

Even Dou Mei, with all her experience, sometimes marveled at the mysterious emotions of the young. And yet, she was a little envious.

“It’s all about status at home,” Xia He said, hugging her phone and grinning foolishly.

Dou Mei stared blankly up at the ceiling, a fleeting look of melancholy crossing her eyes, as if lost in memory.

She sat there in silence for over ten minutes before snapping out of it with a sigh. “Get some sleep. We have a mission tomorrow.”