Chapter Twenty-Two

Through a series of efforts, You Yige managed to obtain the number of Wen Ming’s assistant. After identifying himself, he expressed his wish to meet with Designer Wen for a conversation. In less than five minutes, Wen Ming himself called back and agreed to the meeting.

Taking advantage of Yi Xiaoyu’s absence at work, You Yige slipped back home and changed into an outfit that Yi Xiaoyu had specially bought for him last week. You Yige had never been particular about his attire; it was always Yi Xiaoyu who picked out these elegant ensembles for him. Normally, whether drinking or boxing, You Yige couldn't bear to wear them out. Only when going out for meals or on dates with Yi Xiaoyu would he dress up with such care.

The saying "A man is judged by his clothes" could not be more apt for You Yige. A gray shirt as a base, a blue-and-white striped tie, a navy overcoat falling to the knee, and a brown wool scarf draped around his neck. A clean shave, a touch of hair gel, some hydrating spray, a dollop of moisturizer—and the aura of a cool, professional businessman was complete. Broad shoulders, a wide chest, long legs, and a strong waist. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, even You Yige couldn’t help clicking his tongue in admiration. “Damn, this body was made for clothes. And that pretty boy still dares to compete with me?”

Caressing his chin in self-admiration, You Yige mused: Maybe I should just go find Xiaoyu tonight. Dressed like a god, it’d only take a moment to win her forgiveness.

By the time You Yige arrived at the café, Wen Ming was already there. Wen Ming wore a pale blue shirt and a tasteful tie; his black, custom-tailored suit jacket hung over the back of his chair. He sat, elegant and composed, sipping his coffee. Several young waitresses inside the café blushed as they stole glances at Wen Ming.

The moment You Yige stepped in, every pair of eyes in the café turned toward him, the excitement among the young women palpable.

“Look, look! Another handsome guy just walked in!”

“Oh my god, he’s so stylish.”

“He’s got boyfriend material written all over him. I want his number—what do I do?”

“They seem to know each other! Ah—two handsome guys at one table, someone take a picture!”

Without glancing sideways, You Yige strode over to Wen Ming. Wen Ming set down his coffee, stood up, and greeted him with a calm, polite smile. “Hello.”

You Yige had already cursed Wen Ming’s ancestors in his mind. The last time they’d met, Wen Ming had tried to provoke him using Yi Xiaoyu’s interests; now, here he was, playing the gentleman.

With composure, You Yige returned the greeting, “Hello.”

Damn it, putting on airs? Who can’t do that?

“Sorry for being late, Mr. Wen,” You Yige said apologetically. “Traffic was bad.” He hung his coat on the back of his chair and asked the waiter for a cup of coffee.

“No problem, I just got here myself.”

Wen Ming was a little surprised by the poised figure before him. Not only did the clothes look striking on this man, but his calm, unhurried expression was nothing like their first meeting.

Wen Ming sneered inwardly. Clearly, the man had come prepared.

But how long could this confidence last?

“Mr. You, may I ask what you wanted to see me about?” Wen Ming picked up his coffee and took a delicate sip. “I must apologize, I have an appointment with a client in half an hour, so I hope you won’t mind keeping this brief...”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Wen, I won’t take more than a few minutes.” You Yige smiled, baring his teeth as he fixed his gaze on Wen Ming. “I just wanted to ask you to design two men’s diamond rings. You are a renowned jewelry designer not only in our country, but internationally as well. To have you design rings for myself and my beloved, I believe it would only strengthen our love.”

“If that’s the case, Mr. You, you’ll need to make a reservation with my assistant. Since returning to the country, I’ve already received enough orders to keep me busy for three or four months. After I finish, I’m planning a long vacation for myself, so I’m afraid your commission would have to wait at least six months.”

“Tsk, Mr. Wen, you really are in demand. I hear your design fee is...” You Yige held up three fingers, “At least this much, or it’s not even worth asking.”

“Mr. You flatters me. But given our relationship, I could offer you a fifty percent discount.”

“How could I accept such a favor? It’s not a small sum.” You Yige’s smile was all teeth and no warmth; in his heart, he thought, damn it, what relationship do I have with this pretty boy?

“Please, Mr. You, don’t be so modest.” Wen Ming’s eyes glinted with amusement. “I’m just waiving Xiaoyu’s commission. Your portion will be the full price.”

You Yige’s hand clenched tightly on his thigh. As he looked at Wen Ming’s gentle smile, he had the sudden urge to slap the man across the face.

This kind of roundabout verbal sparring was exhausting—far less satisfying than a direct confrontation.

“Hahaha...” You Yige suppressed the urge to lash out and laughed instead. “No need, no need. I’ll pay whatever it costs. It’s a gift for my wife, after all. A buy-one-get-one-free deal would be insincere. I’m willing to spend whatever it takes, even if it bankrupts me for Xiaoyu’s sake.”

“Mr. You, you really jest,” Wen Ming replied with a meaningful smile. “Your beloved is the CEO of a real estate company worth billions. With him supporting you, no amount of extravagance could bankrupt you.”

Bang! You Yige slapped the table and stood up, glaring at Wen Ming, his breath coming fast, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles cracked.

Wen Ming’s veiled taunt that You Yige lived off Xiaoyu was a direct blow to his pride.

Feigning confusion, Wen Ming asked, “What’s wrong, Mr. You? Did I say something inappropriate?” He smiled apologetically. “If so, please accept my apology.”

You Yige sat back down, tugged at his tie, and said, “Nothing. Since it’ll take six months for the rings, forget it. I’ll just stop by an adult store later and pick up a couple of things—those are more practical anyway. Xiaoyu will probably like them more.”

As You Yige expected, Wen Ming’s face changed instantly at that remark.

Only then did You Yige pick up his coffee, downing it in one go as if it were liquor.

Awful!

“I heard you’ve adopted a cat, Mr. You.”

You Yige was startled. “How did you know?”

“Xiaoyu told me,” Wen Ming replied, pausing before adding, “Don’t misunderstand—he mentioned it when we bumped into each other at a friend’s birthday party.”

“Yes, I have a cat now. Thanks for the reminder, Mr. Wen. Xiaoyu was so happy that day.”

“You’re too kind, Mr. You. If there’s anything else you want to know about Xiaoyu, feel free to ask me. After all, I spent seve—”

“Would you stop harping on those seven years?” You Yige finally lost his patience, though he remained relatively calm. He tapped the table, unwilling to keep up this pretense any longer—it was exhausting. He decided to speak plainly. “Seven years of innocent hand-holding and chaste kisses, and you still brag about it? What’s there to show off? You know Xiaoyu’s favorite pets and foods—I’ve spent two years in his bed and know his favorite positions and most sensitive spots. From his hair to his toes, there’s nowhere I haven’t touched or kissed. Let me ask you, have you ever heard Xiaoyu moan your name in bed?”

You Yige fired off these words in one breath, a rush of satisfaction washing over him. Damn, after holding it in for so long, he finally got the upper hand.

If he had to keep up the act any longer, he really would explode.

Wen Ming remained seated, but his face went through a dazzling array of expressions; You Yige’s words were like a blade, slicing repeatedly at his heart.

This uncultured brute...

Wen Ming gripped his coffee cup tightly, his face dark. “Mr. You, perhaps you should mind your language in such a setting—”

“I’ve already said this much, and you’re still keeping up the act?” You Yige cut him off. “Aren’t you tired? I know you’re itching to punch me right now. How about this: meet me at the underground boxing ring in ** District. We’ll go a couple of rounds. If you win, you can demand whatever you want from me. If you lose—never mind, I won’t ask for anything. After all, you’ll probably be laid up in the hospital for two months.”

(YawnBro: Toothache isn’t an illness, but it’s nearly cost me half my life. Sorry for the late update—I'll post the next side story within the week!)