Curious, she asked, "Why only two contacts?"
Then she remembered that his memory was excellent—he probably remembered all the numbers he needed, so saving these must have some special significance.
Was there special significance? Sheng Jingchu hadn’t really thought much about it when he saved those numbers. Initially, he had just been testing the phone’s contact-saving function. Later, he found that seeing "Dad Xie" on the screen when his teacher called felt warm.
It was no longer just a string of meaningless numbers but a familiar name, closely connected to him.
As for Cheng Liao, he wasn’t sure why he had saved her number. From the moment they met, she had always been special to him.
Sheng Jingchu didn’t answer, just patted her on the head. She contentedly snuggled into his arms, holding an orange slice in her hand, which was now warm from her grasp. She lifted it and fed it to Sheng Jingchu, then playfully touched his eyes. "I used to think your eyes were the most beautiful."
Sheng Jingchu remembered how she once planned to take a secret photo of him on the bus and laughed at the message she had sent to Cheng Yi about it.
"Then, at Kato Kiyomasa's wedding, I found out you sing really well."
The song "Paint My Love," which he and Zhao Yanxun performed together, had been uploaded online and quickly garnered millions of views. It had been shared widely on Weibo, sparking a new topic, "Best CP."
Some fans even wrote novels based on their supposed relationship. Curious, Cheng Liao had browsed the fan forums.
Others had spliced together videos of their matches over the years, creating an MV with a narrative. It depicted the two as childhood friends who learned Go together, fought for their respective countries, were rivals in competition but brothers behind the scenes, and eventually drifted apart due to various reasons. The video ended with an elderly Zhao Yanxun reminiscing on his deathbed about their duet of "Paint My Love."
It was an outlandish storyline, but the video was well-edited.
Sheng Jingchu modestly said, "There were a few places in the video that could have been better. Zhao Yanxun’s piano playing was quite good."
Cheng Liao didn’t have a good impression of Zhao Yanxun. Although she grudgingly admitted that his piano playing was excellent, she couldn’t resist saying, "Good? It sounded like a grasshopper jumping on an electric wire."
Just then, someone walked in—Cao Xihe, followed by Ye Chen and another person.
The man was tall and slender, with fair skin and delicate features.
It was Zhao Yanxun.
Cheng Liao’s expression froze.
Ye Chen, seemingly unbothered, explained to Sheng Jingchu, "Zhao Yanxun’s younger brother is in Jiangcheng."
Ye Chen wasn’t particularly close to Zhao Yanxun, but as an international acquaintance, he couldn’t just ignore him. When Zhao Yanxun heard Ye Chen was going to Sheng Jingchu’s house, he expressed a desire to visit.
Zhao Yanxun wore a long gray coat and a classic plaid wool scarf around his neck. When he smiled, he revealed neat white teeth, looking completely harmless.
There was a moment of silence.
Outside of the Go tournaments, most of them had little personal connection with Zhao Yanxun.
Finally, Sheng Jingchu broke the silence, "Shall we begin?"
Since they met through Go, it made sense to continue getting to know each other through the game.
Fortunately, Yao Ke understood Korean and could help with translation. Zhao Yanxun also knew a bit of English, so with a mix of gestures and guesses, they managed to communicate without much difficulty.
Cao Xihe suggested playing Texas Hold'em.
Everyone agreed, though they weren’t keen on playing for money. However, playing without any stakes felt pointless, so Zhao Yanxun pulled out a Go book from his bag.
Yao Ke translated for him, "This is my collection of Go game records, including all my important matches from childhood to now. If you win, it’s yours."
This was a tempting prize—Zhao Yanxun’s personal Go records, and an exclusive collection at that!
Cao Xihe looked at Zhao Yanxun, "I don’t want any Go records. If I win, you have to give back my photo."
Ye Chen and Yao Ke looked puzzled, but Cheng Liao knew he was referring to the photo of Cao Xihe dancing drunkenly.
Zhao Yanxun nodded after hearing the translation and said something else.
Yao Ke translated, "He said if he wins, Xiao Cao has to post a Weibo message saying, 'Zhao Yanxun is my big brother.'"
Cao Xihe clapped his hands, "Deal! Whoever backs out isn’t a man."
Zhao Yanxun added something, and Yao Ke translated again, "He said the same rule applies to everyone else who loses."
Sheng Jingchu, with a calm expression, said, "I’m not betting on anything. If you’re fine with that, I’ll keep playing. If not, I’ll step out."
After hearing Yao Ke’s translation, Zhao Yanxun smiled and muttered something under his breath.
Yao Ke shrugged, "He said you’re boring."
Ye Chen and Yao Ke discussed the stakes and had no objections, so everyone sat around the table to play.
Cheng Liao acted as the dealer, digging out some coins from Sheng Jingchu’s house and distributing twenty to each player as chips.
She had never played Texas Hold'em before, but she had often watched Cheng Yi play.
Each player was dealt two hole cards, and then the first round of betting began.
Cheng Liao then dealt three community cards, followed by the second round of betting.
After the fourth community card was dealt, the third round of betting took place.
When all five community cards were on the table, the players placed their final bets.
Ye Chen and Yao Ke only stayed in for the first round; after the second, they folded. Sheng Jingchu made it to the third round, while Cao Xihe and Zhao Yanxun stayed in until the final round.
As Cao Xihe checked his cards, he gossiped with Cheng Liao, "Don’t be fooled by how Zhao Yanxun looks like a gentleman now. He’s from the countryside, and when he speaks, it's like 'man-na'—his Korean is terrible! I don’t know what those Korean girls see in him. Just imagine, even if he looked like Daniel Wu, who could stand it if every time he opened his mouth, he said something like, 'What the heck is that?'"
"Man... what?"
He explained, "‘Man-na’ is a Korean dialect, it means 'really?' or 'is that so?'"
Cheng Liao stole a glance at Zhao Yanxun and noticed him looking down at his cards, a slight smirk on his face, radiating his usual arrogance.
The players revealed their cards, starting with Cao Xihe. No wonder he was so confident—he had a straight flush. Next was Sheng Jingchu, who also had a straight flush, with cards of the same value as Cao Xihe's. Then came Yao Ke, whose hand was weaker, just four of a kind.
Ye Chen had the weakest hand, with two pairs.
Finally, it was Zhao Yanxun’s turn. He smiled slightly, exuding confidence, as his long fingers spread out the cards on the table, revealing each suit.
A royal flush!
There was no need to count the chips; it was clear that Zhao Yanxun was the biggest winner.
The faces of Cao Xihe, Yao Ke, and Ye Chen all darkened.
Zhao Yanxun put on his coat, wrapped his scarf around his neck, and indicated that he was ready to leave.
Since Ye Chen had accompanied him, he naturally went to see him out.
At the door, Zhao Yanxun paused and, in somewhat imperfect Chinese, said, "Oh, I forgot to mention. My grandfather was Korean-Chinese. I understand Chinese."
He first looked at Cheng Liao with a gentle smile, "I understand the part about the power lines, but what’s a grasshopper?" Then he turned to Cao Xihe, "I speak Seoul dialect quite well now."
The next day, something big happened in the Chinese Go community: three top-tier Go players, led by Cao Xihe, all posted the same message on Weibo: "Zhao Yanxun is my big brother."
These three were summoned by the Go association's leaders for a stern talk, while media reporters camped outside the Go association, waiting for someone to come out and give them some juicy details.
Cheng Liao silently thanked her lucky stars that Sheng Jingchu hadn’t bet anything, or else the entire Chinese Go community might have been defeated.
But Sheng Jingchu didn’t seem to mind. "It’s not that dramatic. It’s just a personal action by the players; it doesn’t represent the country."
"You were wise," Cheng Liao praised Sheng Jingchu. "But Zhao Yanxun’s Go records are so tempting."
Sheng Jingchu explained to her, "Zhao Yanxun came prepared. There was no way he would lose. He may be arrogant, but he rarely does anything he’s not confident about."
Cheng Liao nudged him, "Did you know you were going to lose?"
Sheng Jingchu shook his head, "I’m not a fortune teller. I couldn’t be certain we’d lose, but I knew it would be very difficult to win."
Cheng Liao sighed, "He must still be brooding over his loss in Japan."
"If you lose on the Go board, you should win back on the Go board. Trying to make up for it elsewhere is meaningless. But I still have some admiration for Zhao Yanxun." He placed a Go stone on the board and looked out the window.
It was early winter, and it got dark early. It was just past five, and already dusk. The weather hadn’t been great these past few days; even at its brightest, the sun was veiled by a hazy mist. But now, as evening approached, the sky had brightened a bit, with the clouds turning golden, the sky golden, and even the camellias in the garden bathed in a golden hue.
Sheng Jingchu said to Cheng Liao, "Did you know that in Japan, there’s a belief that both humans and demons can exist at this time of day? That’s why dusk is also called the 'hour of meeting with demons.'"
Cheng Liao was immediately excited, "That’s perfect! If I meet one, I’ll say hi. I’ve never seen one before."
Sheng Jingchu laughed, "The demons should be afraid of you, afraid that you’ll eat them."
He stood up and wrapped a scarf around Cheng Liao’s neck, amused as he remembered her promise to knit him a wool blanket.
"I’m beginning to think I’ll never get to use that wool blanket you promised to make me."
Cheng Liao snorted, "Don’t underestimate me. I’m working hard on it right now."
He held her wrist and blew on the fingertip she had pricked with the knitting needle.
His breath was warm, making her fingertips tingle, and she instinctively curled her fingers.
"You shouldn’t work so hard. I’d rather go without the blanket than see your hands get ruined." He put on his coat, "Come on, I’ll walk you out."
Since Xiao Qi was busy, Sheng Jingchu had called a taxi for Cheng Liao.
"How about I make you a cheesecake next week?" Cheng Liao remembered that Sheng Jingchu had an oven at home. She wasn’t good at baking, but she could give it a try. "As they say, 'Cheese is power.'"
Sheng Jingchu opened the car door for her, "I have to go back to Hangzhou next week."
Cheng Liao jumped up, nearly hitting the roof of the car.
"Your hand is still injured! You have a follow-up appointment on Wednesday. What could be so important that you need to go to Hangzhou? Can’t you let me handle it?"
He shook his head, "This is something I have to do myself."
){kind=link}
0 Comments