UAAG CH82

Early in the morning, while he was still brushing his teeth, Fu Cheng received a message from his sister.

[Fu Xiao: Happy 27th birthday. Have you eaten properly today?]

Fu Cheng smiled and picked up his phone.

[Fu Cheng: Preparing to eat breakfast. It should be early morning where you are?]

[Fu Xiao: Just past midnight. Right now, it’s the 7th in both China and the UK—it’s all your birthday. Of course, I had to be the first to wish you a happy birthday. So, what are you having this morning?]

[Fu Cheng: Noodles. Haven’t cooked them yet, still brushing my teeth.]

[Fu Xiao: Send me a photo!]

Looking at the sticker of a little figure with hands on its hips acting angry on his screen, Fu Cheng couldn’t help but laugh. After cooking the noodles, he sent a photo to Fu Xiao, which finally satisfied her. However, he didn’t finish the bowl of noodles.

He was currently conditioning his body; he couldn’t eat too much at once, so he had to take it slow.

By the time he was heading out, Su Fei’s text message also arrived.

[Su Fei: Happy Birthday!!!]

Fu Cheng was somewhat surprised and typed a reply: [Thanks, I’m surprised you remembered.]

[Su Fei: ???]

[Su Fei: Of course I remember, okay! I even bought your gift already. Brother Fu, Old Joseph and I bought it together, along with Lina. But we’re still stuck here in Munich busy with the Air France case. Didn’t expect it to take so long, so we can’t come back to celebrate with you.]

Fu Cheng smiled: [It’s okay, thank you guys.]

[Su Fei: I’ll keep the gift safe and give it to you when we get back.]

Not long after, congratulatory texts from Old Joseph and Lina also arrived.

[Lina: Happy Birthday, Fu. It’s a pity we can’t celebrate with you in person.]

[Fu Cheng: Thank you, the thought is what counts.]

[Lina: We have to get back to work then. We’ll give you the present when we return. I believe you’ll definitely like this gift.]

[Fu Cheng: Then I’ll continue to look forward to it.]

It took over an hour to reach the COMAC factory on the far east side of Shanghai.

Upon entering the laboratory, everyone was busy working, as the next day was the most critical test flight.

Half a month ago, Zhuo Huan had proposed a leading and trailing edge loading structure to redesign the wing lift model for the new aircraft. For the new wing experiment work, which was already more than halfway done, this was absolutely subversive—tantamount to starting over. However, Wu Hui, Commander Nie, and all the designers at COMAC unconditionally agreed with Zhuo Huan’s opinion and began working overtime day and night.

Facts proved that this suggestion was successful. several computer simulations in the laboratory had yielded excellent data. Now, as long as they obtained corresponding proof on the actual aircraft, work could proceed.

The next day was the all-important test flight. As soon as Fu Cheng arrived at the COMAC factory, he coordinated data with the experimenters, then went to the COMAC airfield to perform the final aircraft inspection.

He ran up and down with the experimenters, tirelessly checking the aircraft over and over again. It wasn’t just for flight safety, but to ensure that no minor error would cause deviations in tomorrow’s test flight or affect the data.

It wasn’t until the sun was setting that Fu Cheng returned from the airfield.

Walking to the parking lot, he slowly stopped in his tracks, gazing at the man standing against a car door. Zhuo Huan leaned against the driver’s side of a Ferrari, hands in his pockets, head lowered as he smoked. As if sharing a telepathic connection, he looked up, his gaze meeting Fu Cheng’s.

The setting sun stretched their shadows long across the ground. The warm colors illuminated Zhuo Huan’s cold, handsome face, and his sharp, usually indifferent eyes revealed a depth of affection that seemed to have nothing to do with his usual persona.

Fu Cheng walked over and glanced at his watch: “It’s only just past five.”

Zhuo Huan: “Hmm?”

Fu Cheng: “For the past two weeks, you’ve been working overtime until three or four in the morning every day.”

Zhuo Huan: “The test flight is tomorrow. If mistakes can still happen now, the people who designed the plane—the heads of those retards in the lab—can be twisted off and thrown directly into the East China Sea.”

Fu Cheng: “Including you?”

Zhuo Huan looked at him and smiled: “Tsk, included.” He straightened up. “Get in.”

They hadn’t enjoyed such leisurely time in a long while. On the narrow coastline, a black Ferrari was like a streak of dark lightning, speeding swiftly along the coastal highway. Since they were heading toward the city, they were driving almost directly into the setting sun. However, the sunlight wasn’t blinding; it just felt warm and peaceful.

But soon, this tranquility was broken by a piercing ringtone.

Zhuo Huan picked up his phone, looked at it with displeasure, and hung up immediately. A few seconds later, another call came in, and he hung up again. After hanging up four or five times, the other party called again. He muttered a curse under his breath and threw his phone to Fu Cheng.

Fu Cheng: “…?”

Zhuo Huan: “Block him for me.”

Fu Cheng glanced at the name on the screen. It was actually capitalized: “SHIT”.

“Who is this?”

Master Zhuo sneered: “Leland·Hale·Patrick.”

Fu Cheng didn’t react immediately. After a few seconds: “Your father? Mr. Zhuo?”

“Oh, it’s that retard.”

“…”

Fu Cheng: “Phone isn’t unlocked.”

Zhuo Huan: “667259.”

Fu Cheng successfully opened the phone: “…Really block him?”

Exiting the highway and stopping at a red light, Zhuo Huan took the phone directly from Fu Cheng’s hand and blocked his own father.

Fu Cheng: “…”

Finally, the world was quiet.

“Mr. Zhuo might have something important to tell you by calling,” Fu Cheng thought for a moment and said.

Zhuo Huan: “Him looking for me is never a good thing.”

Zhuo Huan didn’t want to dwell on this topic. His expression was cold, and his fingers tapped irritably on the steering wheel. Fu Cheng looked at him for a while before looking away out the window. They were close to the city center now, and buildings were becoming denser on both sides of the road. Fu Cheng spoke as if casually: “Did you come to Shanghai often before establishing UAAG?”

Zhuo Huan held the steering wheel with one hand: “A few times.” He paused, then added, “Three times.”

Fu Cheng: “I was born in Shanghai, but I rarely came to the seaside. This area should be Nanhui District. I remember my teacher’s home is near here.”

“Teacher?”

Fu Cheng: “My teacher from the training camp, Qi Zhifeng.”

Zhuo Huan raised his eyes and glanced at Fu Cheng in the rearview mirror, giving a soft “En.”

Fu Cheng: “Five years ago, because of an investment error, Teacher’s family owed a lot of debt. He was distressed every day. At that time, I had graduated from the training camp and was in the Air Force, but we were both in Shanghai. Once, when we were eating together, I suggested he retire early and find a job in civil aviation so he could better take care of his family.”

Zhuo Huan: “So he later went to Rogue Airlines?”

Fu Cheng: “Yeah. Donghua Airlines also invited him, but Rogue Airlines offered a slightly higher salary. Commander Nie always thought I felt guilty about this because I felt it was my suggestion that sent Captain Qi to Rogue Airlines. My sudden anorexia two years ago was also related to this matter. Commander Nie is a good leader; he cares about us a lot. Even after I retired, he’s always been concerned about my movements.”

“Nie Xiang?”

“Yes.” Fu Cheng looked up at him, paused, and asked, “Speaking of which, why did you set up UAAG’s headquarters in Shanghai?”

Zhuo Huan asked casually: “Is it important?”

“Just asking.”

“Oh, I just pointed at a random place.”

“…”

Fu Cheng didn’t know how to continue questioning for a moment. He was never cut out to be a lobbyist. This was already the best method he could think of to ask Zhuo Huan why he wouldn’t go to COMAC. But this man didn’t give him an opening at all.

While he was thinking about how to continue the topic, a languid voice spoke softly. Zhuo Huan turned off the car stereo, and the cabin suddenly fell silent. He said, “Fu Cheng.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you know how to beg someone?”

Fu Cheng didn’t react immediately: “What?”

Zhuo Huan looked up and swept a glance at him, curling the corners of his mouth: “Begging someone involves coercion or bribery. Coercion isn’t very feasible, and you don’t have anything to bribe me with. But seduction… you can try that…” His voice pitched up slightly at the end, and Zhuo Huan tilted his chin suggestively at him. “I don’t want to wear a condom tonight.”

“…”

His ears heated up a bit. Although they both knew going to Zhuo Huan’s house tonight meant they would likely do it, hearing him say it so bluntly still made Fu Cheng feel embarrassed. Fu Cheng didn’t speak, but Zhuo Huan wasn’t anxious. His desire not to wear a condom wasn’t a new thing; before their argument, he hadn’t wanted to wear one either. He had mentioned it to Fu Cheng several times, acted spoiled, showed weakness, but Fu Cheng never agreed.

Zhuo Huan: “Did Nie Xiang come to find you?”

Fu Cheng fell silent: “Yes.” After a moment, he chose to ask directly: “Why won’t you agree to go to COMAC?”

Scoffing, Zhuo Huan countered: “Did I disagree?”

Fu Cheng looked at him calmly: “But you didn’t agree either.”

“Guess why.”

Fu Cheng asked: “Does it have to do with Rogue 318?”

Zhuo Huan glanced at him but didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “Why didn’t you go back to being a pilot?”

After a long silence, Fu Cheng said quietly: “Rogue 318.”

After this sentence fell, a long silence filled the cabin.

The car had driven into the underground garage. Zhuo Huan parked the car and turned to look at the young man beside him. In the dim parking lot, faint light passed through the car window, illuminating his handsome and elegant face. Fu Cheng lowered his eyes, his fluttering lashes casting a faint shadow beneath them.

Zhuo Huan called him softly: “Fu Cheng.”

Fu Cheng turned to look at him. His clear eyes fully reflected Zhuo Huan, and only him. Deep in those eyes were longing and faith that couldn’t be hidden. Zhuo Huan had seen this look back in Helsinki, under the night sky filled with stars, the very first time he saw this young man.

However, at that time, in the very next moment, this person had retracted his look of astonishment and admiration, darkening his gaze and staring at him wordlessly.

But at this moment, within this deep and gentle gaze, there was not only faith but also a reserved and implicit love.

Letting out a soft laugh from his nose, Zhuo Huan pinched his chin, leaned down, and kissed him.

A brief kiss ended, leaving the taste of each other in their mouths.

Zhuo Huan kissed his eyes: “I will go.”

Fu Cheng looked up at him.

Zhuo Huan: “Is Rogue 318 that important?”

Fu Cheng: “Yes.”

Zhuo Huan: “Mn, but I will go.”

“Hm?”

“Because you are there.”

Because you are there, I no longer fear, I dare to move forward.

You believe in me more than I believe in myself.

Zhuo Huan had long said he thought Fu Xiao’s cooking was bad and that he would cook a meal personally to let Fu Cheng know what delicious food really was. Unfortunately, right after he said that, the entire COMAC laboratory began busy overtime work. Let alone cooking a meal for Fu Cheng, Zhuo Huan had to squeeze time out of work just to eat a proper meal himself.

Now, he finally had time.

Taking the elevator to the penthouse duplex, Zhuo Huan opened the door. For the first time in months, Fu Cheng walked in. Looking up at the crystal chandelier hanging in the high-ceilinged living room, he felt a bit hesitant and sorrowful in his heart. The feeling of fleeing this place in panic seemed like it happened just yesterday; he was a bit at a loss.

The next moment, Zhuo Huan called out to him discontentedly: “What are you standing there for?”

Fu Cheng was stunned and turned around.

Zhuo Huan: “Decorate the dining room.”

Fu Cheng: “…?”

Zhuo Huan pointed with his chin to a pile of things stacked by the wall: “Balloons, ribbons, flowers, they’re all there. You decorate it.”

Fu Cheng looked at the pile of things by the wall and actually saw several English letters among them: B, I, R, and so on.

Happy birthday.

Fu Cheng: “…”

Fu Cheng: “I remember today is my birthday?”

Zhuo Huan raised an eyebrow: “Otherwise?”

Fu Cheng: “My birthday, and I decorate it myself?”

Zhuo Huan laughed: “So? Then you cook the steak, and I’ll decorate?”

Fu Cheng: “…”

He had never had a birthday like this!

In the past, his sister always celebrated his birthday. Fu Xiao also valued these ritualistic things—blowing up balloons, sticking up ribbons, even popping confetti cannons. But normally, others should do these things. How could someone self-righteously ask the birthday boy to set up his own birthday party?

But thinking about it carefully, it was excusable.

Before today, Zhuo Huan hadn’t been home for three consecutive days; he simply had no time to set this up.

Someone had been sent specifically to buy the items, but he hadn’t asked them to set them up. Perhaps it was for the feeling of doing it personally.

Even if “doing it personally” meant Fu Cheng doing it.

While pumping up balloons for himself, Fu Cheng looked up toward the kitchen.

Under the warm yellow light, Zhuo Huan had rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. His head was lowered, strands of hair on the left falling before his eyes. On his right hand, he wore a gold Bulgari bracelet, holding a knife and concentrating on cutting the steak. His left hand held down the beef; on his wrist was the Patek Philippe watch that Su Fei, Old Joseph, and Fu Cheng had given him for his birthday this year.

He looked at the beef with single-minded focus, his gaze steady, lips slightly pursed. His long fingers complemented the silver blade, emitting a cold white glow.

He really seemed to know how to cook.

An hour later, Zhuo Huan retrieved a bottle of red wine from the cellar.

Mellow red wine was poured from the decanter into tall glasses. After pouring the wine, Zhuo Huan looked up and discovered the tall candles on the table.

“…What are these?”

Fu Cheng: “Didn’t you ask me to prepare them?”

Zhuo Huan: “Where did these candles come from?”

Fu Cheng: “They were already in that pile of stuff?”

Zhuo Huan: “…”

Fu Cheng realized: “You didn’t know this was a candlelight birthday dinner set?”

Zhuo Huan: “…I knew.”

Fu Cheng: “Oh, you didn’t know.” He just casually asked someone to prepare things.

Zhuo Huan: “…”

Gently cutting the steak with his knife, Fu Cheng tasted a bite without much hope.

It was actually… really good?

Though maybe the meat itself was just high quality and had no necessary connection to the cook’s skill.

Just as he was thinking this, Fu Cheng tasted the braised beef this person made.

…It was actually delicious.

Noticing Fu Cheng’s unconcealed look of surprise, Zhuo Huan scoffed and said lazily: “Your sister’s cooking really is bad, isn’t it?”

After a silence, Fu Cheng said: “No, it’s very delicious.”

Zhuo Huan: “Ha?”

Fu Cheng looked up at him, his gaze firm: “The food my sister cooks is still very delicious.”

Zhuo Huan chuckled, looking at him with an expression that said, “Are your taste buds broken?”

After dinner, the two held their wine glasses and went to the open-air terrace on the second floor.

The September night breeze blew from the Huangpu River, cool, gentle, and refreshing to the heart. The wind blew the scattered hair from his forehead. His body was slightly warm from the alcohol, but Fu Cheng’s mind was very clear. He stood on the high building, leaning against the glass railing, gazing from afar at the dazzling night view across the river.

“I went there a few times when I was little.”

Zhuo Huan looked in the direction he was pointing.

Fu Cheng pointed at the Oriental Pearl Tower and said, “First, my parents took me there. My biological parents. They took me once. Later, after they were gone, my adoptive parents—my uncle and aunt—took me twice.”

This was the first time Zhuo Huan heard this: “Your adoptive parents?”

Fu Cheng nodded: “You didn’t know?”

Zhuo Huan: “You never mentioned it. Their surname was also Fu, did you take their surname?”

Fu Cheng: “No, we were distant relatives with the same surname. We were all Fu.”

Zhuo Huan glanced at him: “The ones on Rogue 318 were your adoptive parents?”

“Yes. They had acrophobia. Flying was okay, but going to places like the Oriental Pearl Tower, they didn’t dare look down. Later, when I became a pilot, my dad joked that he didn’t know how two people with acrophobia managed to raise a son who became a pilot. My mom said that since my biological parents weren’t afraid of heights, I didn’t have the acrophobia gene.”

Taking a sip of wine, Fu Cheng turned to look at him: “Zhuo Huan.”

The young man rarely called his name. Usually, Fu Cheng’s voice was very clear and bright, but perhaps because he said it so rarely, when he called out the name Zhuo Huan, it always revealed a bit of that Southern softness. Zhuo Huan always enjoyed it. He gave a soft “Mn.”

Fu Cheng: “Do you know when we first met?”

Asking this question meant their first meeting definitely wasn’t in Helsinki.

Zhuo Huan leaned both hands on the railing, turning his head slightly to look at him: “Where?”

“Shanghai.”

Shanghai?

Although he was a bit tipsy, Zhuo Huan was extremely confident in his memory. He had said he’d only been to Shanghai three times before. Instantly, he retrieved from the depths of his memory the only time that might have intersected with Fu Cheng.

“…The time I went to give a speech for the Chinese Air Force? Oh right, Nie Xiang invited me that time.”

Empowered by the alcohol, Fu Cheng looked at this man’s face. In the past twenty-six years, he never thought that one day he would look at a man with such feelings. His voice was hidden in the wind, very soft: “And the second time?”

Zhuo Huan looked down at him. The timeline of his entire life over the past thirty years was clearly imprinted in his mind like a scroll. He figured it out quickly and clicked his tongue: “Rogue 318?”

Fu Cheng was suddenly stunned. He seemed not to expect Zhuo Huan to get it right. He opened his mouth slightly, his gaze blank.

Indeed, because of Rogue 318, the two definitely had an intersection, only Zhuo Huan shouldn’t have known at the time.

The young man’s bewildered and surprised look successfully aroused Zhuo Huan’s desire. He lowered his head and kissed Fu Cheng’s lips. In the night breeze, they kissed for a long time before parting. Placing the wine glass on the table to the side, Zhuo Huan held him with one arm, looked down at Fu Cheng, and asked: “What benefit did Nie Xiang give you to make you come act as a lobbyist?”

He didn’t expect him to remember that. Fu Cheng fell silent: “Nothing.”

Zhuo Huan: “Then how do you plan to lobby me?”

“Hm? Didn’t you already agree?”

“When did I agree?”

“In the car, at the parking lot?”

Zhuo Huan said indifferently: “Oh, I’ve forgotten.” He buried his face in Fu Cheng’s shoulder, his warm breath spraying onto the young man’s bare, protruding collarbone. “Fu Cheng, do you know how to seduce?”

Fu Cheng was speechless.

Zhuo Huan laughed. He straightened up, lifting Fu Cheng’s chin with one hand, and said: “Did you know, since I was fourteen, how many people wanted to seduce me and get into my bed every year?”

His body instantly stiffened, and his lips pursed slowly. Fu Cheng tried to say calmly: “I don’t know.”

Zhuo Huan: “Oh, I have a good memory, I remember every one. Let me tell you, three days after my fourteenth birthday, a model flirted with me at a banquet, hinting she wanted to sleep with me. But she was a woman; I couldn’t get hard, and I wasn’t interested. That was the first one. Then, the year I was fourteen, there were 19 like that.”

“Fifteen years old, a bit fewer, 6.”

“Sixteen years old, it started to increase. 34. Seventeen years old, 43. Eighteen years old, 75… When I was twenty, wow, truly disgusting, it broke a hundred. On my twentieth birthday, Zhuo Jing’s lover at the time also wanted to sleep with me. While Zhuo Jing wasn’t paying attention, she crawled into my bed. I threw her to Zhuo Jing. Zhuo Jing didn’t care at all and continued to play with her all night.”

Fu Cheng lowered his eyes. He put down his wine glass and asked quietly: “So?” Raising his head to look at Zhuo Huan, staring fixedly at the casual smile on this person’s face, Fu Cheng stepped to leave, but was hugged tightly from behind.

“So, only you.”

Zhuo Huan hugged the person in his arms tightly, as if using all his strength to hold him, and to say these words: “Fu Cheng—”

“Look back at me.”

His body felt somewhat weak. After a long time, Fu Cheng turned around. However, when his gaze landed on the skyscraper flashing with LED lights across the river, he suddenly froze.

『FU CHENG

I LOVE YOU

ZHUO』

Six dazzling, blinding characters appeared on the massive light screen of the Aurora Plaza building, constantly fading, lighting up, and flashing.

“I didn’t write my full name because if I did, everyone would see at a glance that we’re both men. China isn’t as open as America. Aren’t you from Shanghai? Quite a few people know you.”

Slowly raising his head, he looked at this man. Fu Cheng opened his mouth; he felt a lump in his throat. Only after a few seconds did he ask hoarsely: “Why explain that specifically?”

Zhuo Huan held him, slowly curving his lips and chuckling softly: “Tsk, wouldn’t you overthink it?”

Fu Cheng: “Think what?”

Zhuo Huan: “Think about all that messy stuff.”

“…I wouldn’t.”

“Oh, then you wouldn’t.”

After a long silence, Fu Cheng said: “Didn’t you say that people who confess in this way have brain problems and an IQ surely not exceeding 80?”

Zhuo Huan: “…”

“Fuck, are you sick? I’m being so fucking romantic, and you’re calling me brain-damaged? What’s my IQ, Fu Cheng, don’t you fucking know?”

Fu Cheng looked at him calmly: “Seventy thousand an hour, Teacher Zhuo, that’s too expensive. Rogue 318 hasn’t been salvaged yet.”

Zhuo Huan laughed out of anger: “You really fucking know how to talk!”

Whatever ruined the mood, Fu Cheng would say it. Zhuo Huan was so angry he wanted to flick his sleeves and leave, but Fu Cheng grabbed his hand.

Zhuo Huan asked grumpily: “What?”

Fu Cheng: “Why did you do that?”

Zhuo Huan lowered his eyes, looked at him seriously, and didn’t answer. Instead, he asked: “Do you know how much I care about my pride, Fu Cheng?”

『If one day someone wanted to write an autobiography for Reid, opening this book, from the beginning to the end, one sentence could summarize the whole text—

This was a life of pride and arrogance.』

Zhuo Huan’s pride was practically carved into his bones, into every second of his breath, every inch of his cells.

Fu Cheng: “Yes.”

Pointing across the river at the “I Love You,” Zhuo Huan tried several times, finding it almost impossible to speak, until finally, he gritted his teeth and said the words: “Now, the whole world knows I love you. The whole fucking world knows!”

“Fu Cheng, you owe me. You have to use your whole life to pay me back!”

In the next second, a scorching, burning kiss sealed Fu Cheng’s lips. He was briefly stunned, then closed his eyes, hugged this person, and kissed back with deep passion. The two kissed all the way from the open-air terrace to the bedroom next door. Zhuo Huan pressed a button on the wall, and the white sheer curtains closed automatically.

Clothes were stripped off one by one. While kissing Fu Cheng’s lips, Zhuo Huan reached out to grab a condom from the nightstand. He bit the young man’s earlobe, laughing hoarsely: “It’s textured, your favorite.”

Fu Cheng turned his head and saw the condom Zhuo Huan had just taken from the drawer. Recognizing the model and style, he suddenly understood something. Hugging the person on top of him, he asked: “How many are left?”

Zhuo Huan raised an eyebrow at him: “Two. There’s a test flight tomorrow; do you want to do it a few more times?”

Responding to him was Fu Cheng looking up to cover him with a kiss.

The door was tightly closed, blocking all the panting and shaking sounds inside the room.

The soundproofing of this house was too good, and they were too immersed in lust to extricate themselves. Neither Zhuo Huan nor Fu Cheng heard the doorbell ring not long after they started making love. The doorbell rang for several minutes, but no one opened the door. Logically, the person downstairs should have left, but five minutes later, the door clicked open.

A handsome man in a suit stepped into the house, holding a key card in his hand. Zhuo Jing walked through his son’s home with one hand in his pocket as if it were perfectly natural. His hair was gelled back, revealing an extremely handsome face. No one could tell he was already in his fifties.

Upon entering, he didn’t see anyone, but the lights in the room were on.

Zhuo Jing was about to call Zhuo Huan’s name when suddenly, he stopped. His gaze lingered on the balloons and ribbons on the dining room wall. Then, he looked at the dining table.

“Candlelight dinner?” Mr. Zhuo smiled elegantly.

Placing the key card and the house purchase agreement on the cabinet in the entryway, Mr. Zhuo calmly opened the door and left. He took the elevator to the underground parking lot, where a Bentley had been waiting for a long time. Opening the back door and getting in, he was immediately hit by the woman’s strong, pungent perfume.

Seeing Zhuo Jing return, the Asian-looking woman immediately hooked his arm and offered a fragrant kiss.

Zhuo Jing kissed her back on the lips and said to the driver: “Back to the hotel.” Then he pinched the cheek of the person beside him. “Don’t rush, I have something to deal with.”

The woman responded in a cooing voice: “Okay.”

As the car drove out of the parking lot, Mr. Zhuo took out his phone, found Lina’s name, and called her. Soon, the call was answered.

“Uncle Patrick?”

As the car drove along the bustling and dazzling Bund, Zhuo Jing raised his eyes and looked through the window at the Aurora Plaza building across the river and the flashing words on it. He smiled: “Lina, long time no see. I heard you’re currently on a business trip in Munich?”

Lina laughed: “Actually, I just arrived in Shanghai. It’s a friend’s birthday today; we came back to give him a birthday surprise and celebrate for him.”

Zhuo Jing: “You really are a kind and gentle good girl. By the way, Lina, does Reid have a boyfriend now?”

Lina was surprised: “Uncle Patrick? Why ask so suddenly?”

“Just asking.”

“Then I think it would be better for you to ask Reid personally.”

Zhuo Jing smiled.

Zhuo Jing: “Do you know Fu Cheng?”

The black Mercedes van drove from Pudong Airport all the way to the city center, and now finally reached the Huangpu River. Hearing Zhuo Jing’s words, Lina was stunned. She raised her head and happened to see the large flashing words on the building across the river. Suddenly freezing, Lina stared in shock, unable to answer for a long time.

Su Fei and Old Joseph also saw those lines of text.

Su Fei grabbed Old Joseph’s arm: “Holy shit, look at that.”

Old Joseph looked in the direction he pointed.

Su Fei: “Fu Cheng, I Love You, Zhuo… This…” After being dazed for a long time, the punk boy asked in confusion: “Fu Cheng… is this name very common…”

Old Joseph was surprised for a moment, then smiled meaningfully: “Perhaps it really is very common.”

Over the phone, Mr. Zhuo heard Su Fei and Old Joseph’s voices. He chuckled and asked: “Lina, it seems you know this Mr. Fu Cheng.”

Lina came back to her senses, her voice gentle: “Maybe I know him, maybe I don’t. Uncle Patrick, are you in Shanghai too?”

Zhuo Jing: “Yes, just passing through Shanghai, so I wanted to bring some documents to Reid. But he really broke my heart. I helped him buy his house back, but he won’t take my calls.”

Lina: “Okay, I will mention this to Reid. Uncle Patrick, I won’t disturb your nightlife.”

Zhuo Jing said regretfully: “You really are the woman who understands me best, Lina. If only you weren’t the girl I watched grow up.”

Lina: “Goodnight, Uncle Patrick.”

“Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

After hanging up, Lina looked at Su Fei and Old Joseph. Old Joseph had already understood the situation, while Su Fei still looked confused. Lina blinked: “Just got back to China, I’m a bit tired and want to get over the jet lag. How about we contact Fu and Reid tomorrow, what do you think?”

Su Fei: “Huh? Didn’t we come back specifically to give Fu Cheng a birthday surprise? Why tomorrow?”

Old Joseph pressed down on his head, smiling: “The gift given tonight would be called a scare. The one given tomorrow is called a surprise. Understand?”

Su Fei: “???”

What on earth is he supposed to understand!

On the other side, Zhuo Jing leaned back against the soft leather seat, his gaze passing through the window, quietly watching the deep confession on the skyscraper. The woman beside him rubbed against his arm, issuing ambiguous invitations. He turned back and placed his index finger against her bright red lips.

“Shh, baby, I’m thinking about something. Be good.”

“Okay.”

He was thinking. He was thinking about many things. The corners of his mouth hooked up slightly as he remembered twenty-six years ago.

It seemed to be in a villa in San Francisco. Who was he sleeping with at the time… oh right, a Hollywood actress. That woman was his favorite lover in all those years. It was a pity that after that time, whenever he saw that woman, he would remember what happened then and couldn’t get hard, so he gave her a large sum of money and broke up with her.

That night they were making love in the villa’s pool when suddenly a call came in. He didn’t like answering calls during sex, but that time it was his private phone, and it rang for ten minutes.

His desire hadn’t been satisfied yet. Zhuo Jing could only kiss his lover’s lips apologetically, climb out of the pool first, and answer the call.

The call was from a servant at the Beverly Hills estate.

“Sir, please come back quickly. If you don’t come back, the Young Master is really going to be beaten to death by the Madam…”

Zhuo Jing frowned and arranged for a private jet to fly back to Los Angeles immediately.

Before returning home, he didn’t understand what “beaten to death” meant. Not until he pushed open the bedroom door and saw that woman with red eyes kicking their son from the window to the bathroom door, kicking Zhuo Huan in the stomach. The boy’s face was covered in tears. He cried and begged for mercy. He knelt at the bathroom door, on the cold marble, kowtowing forcefully to his mother again and again, begging her to stop hitting him.

Zhuo Jing stood at the door, body stiff as he watched them, actually unable to move for a moment.

The crazy woman kicked the kneeling boy away, screaming hoarsely: “You trash, useless thing! Your father doesn’t want you at all! Leland won’t come home for you, won’t even look at you! what use is it for you to be alive! You piece of trash!”

All the blood in his body rushed to his head. Zhuo Jing rushed over quickly and shoved the woman hard to the ground.

“Leland?” The moment those vicious, crazy eyes saw him, they turned into obsession and longing. Zhuo Jing felt cold all over. He pulled up the boy on the ground. He had never placed any importance on family affection, but looking at this boy covered in injuries, face streaked with tears, looking at him with timidity and fear, Zhuo Jing realized for the first time: this was his son.

Half of his own blood flowed in this body.

After sending him to a private hospital, he arranged another house for his son and specifically had the butler who had taken care of him since childhood take care of Zhuo Huan. He also lived in that house for two months, but unable to stand the ascetic life, within half a year, Zhuo Jing relapsed and went around the world having fun with women again. However, he didn’t let Zhuo Huan live with that woman anymore.

Servants were always like that. The mistress ruled the house. In fact, from the time he lost interest in the family when Zhuo Huan was one year old and continued to find women outside, that woman had been beating his son every day, scolding him, blaming him for not being able to make his father come home. From the day he was born, every day, this child faced his mother’s humiliation and hatred. The servants just didn’t dare to speak. Only this time, because Kelly saw the gossip news about him and that Hollywood actress, drank alcohol, and beat him too ruthlessly—almost killing Zhuo Huan—did the servant finally tell him.

He had never been interested in family affection. Even now, he couldn’t say he had any deep, selfless fatherly love for Zhuo Huan.

But at this moment, looking out the window at the riverbank, at the flashing confession on that building, knowing deeply what a proud person his son was, Zhuo Jing smiled and sighed with emotion: “Son, hanging yourself on a single tree… Dad really feels pity for you.”

The woman beside him leaned on Zhuo Jing’s shoulder and asked him: “Leland, do you have a son?”

Zhuo Jing raised an eyebrow: “Honey, didn’t you know I have a son? He’s very handsome.” Saying that, Zhuo Jing opened his phone and found a photo of Zhuo Huan from the album: “Handsome?”

The woman looked at the cold, elegant man in the photo, stunned for a few seconds. But she reacted quickly and said sweetly: “Not as handsome as you.”

Zhuo Jing smiled and hugged her: “That’s true. But he should be happier than me. He found someone he likes.”

“Leland, don’t you like me?”

Zhuo Jing feigned sadness as he asked back, “Oh, Honey, I feel love for you. Did you think it was merely ‘like’?”

The woman giggled.

After finishing once, Fu Cheng casually threw on a piece of clothing and walked out to the open-air terrace outside the bedroom.

Zhuo Huan leaned against the railing, smoking while looking at the river view in the distance.

Fu Cheng walked over. He looked at the Aurora Plaza building still flashing the words and asked in surprise, “How long did you buy it for?”

It cost seven hundred thousand an hour, but obviously, at least an hour and a half had passed, and the building was still flashing the words “Fu Cheng I Love You.”

Zhuo Huan said lazily, “The whole night.”

Fu Cheng: “…”

“Can Rogue 318 really still be salvaged?”

Zhuo Huan looked at him grumpily. “Even if we saved this money, it wouldn’t be enough for a single day of salvaging Rogue 318!”

Fu Cheng: “Oh.”

The red wine wasn’t finished yet. It was Romanée-Conti, expensive enough that even Fu Cheng recognized the brand. Fu Cheng picked up the wine glass and handed it to Zhuo Huan. “Cheers.”

Zhuo Huan held the goblet. Hearing Fu Cheng’s words, he suddenly froze. A few seconds later, as if recalling something, he curled his lips. “Hey, Fu Cheng, do you know what the first joke I ever told in my life was?”

Fu Cheng looked at him in surprise, not understanding why he suddenly brought this up. “What?”

Zhuo Huan looked at him, first pointing a finger at the chair nearby. “Chairs.”

Fu Cheng: “…?”

Zhuo Huan swirled the wine glass again. “Cheers.”

Fu Cheng: “…”

Zhuo Huan looked at him with a faint smile. “Is it funny? I discovered this joke for the first time when I was three and laughed for a month.”

Quietly looking at the man before him, Fu Cheng knew it should have been a funny joke, but for some reason, he couldn’t laugh. He tilted his head up and kissed Zhuo Huan on the lips. Zhuo Huan’s body suddenly stiffened. He lowered his eyes to look at the young man before him; countless words rushed to his lips, but finally, he lowered his head to kiss him back.

“…Fu Cheng, dictate my life.”

When they did it the second time, Zhuo Huan refused to open the condom wrapper. He bit Fu Cheng’s lips, gently licking his teeth. Fu Cheng really couldn’t take it anymore, his voice hoarse. “Fine, don’t wear it…”

Yet Zhuo Huan still didn’t enter. He pinched his chin, his voice low and husky, asking coaxingly, “Don’t wear it from now on either, okay?”

Fu Cheng’s eyes were red, teeth clenched. “Are you doing it or not?”

Zhuo Huan laughed. “Oh.”

Kissing this person’s lips, with a depth of affection he had never felt before in his life, Zhuo Huan spoke into Fu Cheng’s ear, word by word, softly.

“Fu Cheng—”

“I love you.”

I have truly fallen in love with you.

Author’s Note:

Goodnight.

The story of these two is just about done; what follows is the final plot arc.

Actually, Rogue 318 is still important to both of them, but not in such a desperate, absolute way anymore. Even if it isn’t salvaged, RIP [Zhuo Huan] will still go to COMAC, and Fu Cheng will still return to the military. Because they have each other, they won’t be so sad anymore; they can face it.

Of course, as a HE [Happy Ending] author, it absolutely must be salvaged!

Oh right, lastly, RIP’s unlock code is a special 6-digit number (667259). Do you guys know the meaning of these six digits?

Support me on Ko-fi