Chapter 118: How to Soothe an Angry Puppy

After leaving Yalin Villa, Gu Bai wore a sullen expression, leaving Xu Zezhan and Liang Muchuan far behind, clearly quite upset.

Liang Muchuan glanced at the figure ahead. “He’s like this every year after losing money.”

Xu Zezhan smiled. “He’s mad because I didn’t feed him cards.”

“Then why didn’t you feed him cards?” Liang Muchuan clicked his knuckles against his lighter. The wind was strong, and it took him two or three tries to light his cigarette. He slowly exhaled a smoke ring. “Are you really afraid he’ll start dating?”

Xu Zezhan paused, a faint, unreadable smile playing at the corner of his eyes. “If I fed him every year, he’d just take it for granted. So then, what about me? I deserve to lose.”

Liang Muchuan narrowed his eyes. Among their group, if anyone could stay calm, it was definitely Xu Zezhan.

He remembered when they were kids, both vying for class president. Liang Muchuan went around treating classmates to gain votes, while Xu Zezhan remained as steady as an old dog, completely unhurried. On voting day, most of the class voted for Xu Zezhan, including those Liang Muchuan had entertained.

To this day, he couldn’t understand why.

If Fu Wenzhou was a rabid dog, Xu Zezhan was a fox.

A sly one, utterly dark-hearted.

When Xu Zezhan wanted something, he wouldn’t snatch it directly like Fu Wenzhou, who practically announced to the world that the item was his and no one else could touch it—any challenger would be bitten by a mad dog.

Xu Zezhan worked quietly and silently, setting traps early on, just waiting for others to fall into them.

He felt a bit sorry for Gu Bai. “That’s unfair. This year, he’ll have to watch you date.”

Xu Zezhan’s lips curled into a mocking smirk. “He won’t care.”

Liang Muchuan fell silent, unsure how to respond.

Fortunately, Xu Zezhan didn’t dwell on the matter and instead took out his phone. “Let me show you something.”

Liang Muchuan tapped off the ash from his cigarette, his voice drifting in the night breeze. “What?”

Xu Zezhan opened up his chat with Shen Guannan and enlarged a photo for Liang Muchuan.

Liang Muchuan frowned immediately. “Why is Song Qingyou at a bar? Doesn’t she dislike noisy places?”

Xu Zezhan said, “Do you even think that’s Song Qingyou?”

Liang Muchuan looked up, sensing something was off. “When was this photo taken?”

Xu Zezhan replied, “When we just arrived at Fu Wenzhou’s house, Shen Guannan sent it. He said he saw Song Qingyou at the bar and snapped a photo to ask me. Song Qingyou was right next to Yan Miao at the time, so how could she be at the bar? Does she have a doppelgänger or something?”

Liang Muchuan zoomed in on the photo. The figure’s back was blurry, but from any angle, it resembled Song Qingyou closely. “Got a front shot?”

“No,” Xu Zezhan shook his head. “Guannan didn’t send one, but Gu Bai also saw this same figure in that bar before.”

Liang Muchuan hesitated. “Maybe it’s just someone who looks similar.”

Xu Zezhan said, “Maybe. Actually, there are plenty of people in the world who look alike.”

“Hmm.” Liang Muchuan didn’t think much of it; after all, it was just a photo of a back view. Similarity alone wasn’t strange.

On the street at two in the morning, few people were around, only rows of street lamps and thick snow piled on the ground. Song Qingyou stood at the second-floor window, watching them get into the car.

Just as she was about to turn away, someone roughly pulled her back.

Meeting Fu Wenzhou’s gloomy eyes, Song Qingyou smiled lightly. “A new year, Fu Wenzhou.”

Before she finished, his lips clamped down on hers. She felt something slide into her mouth, and she couldn’t help but inhale sharply.

Fu Wenzhou didn’t kiss her for long, giving her enough breath between. Like a clingy large dog desperate to stay close to its owner, he kept their skin pressed together in constant intimacy.

His breath was heavy, his voice hoarse and restrained. “You and I didn’t count down together this year. I wanted to count down, make a wish with you, and I even prepared a cake.”

The little dog spoke softly, furrowing his brows in displeasure. Even with half his face hidden in shadow, his striking features couldn’t be concealed.

Song Qingyou reached out and touched the deep blue square-cut diamond at his ear. “It’s just another New Year. Isn’t it the same if friends celebrate together?”

“No,” Fu Wenzhou said almost obsessively. “It’s different, Qingyou. Wishes made at midnight are the only ones that come true. I didn’t get to make mine.”

Song Qingyou chuckled. “Then what do you want to wish for?”

Fu Wenzhou said, “I wish for my Qingyou to be healthy and live a long life.”

It was such a simple, ordinary wish.

Song Qingyou was momentarily stunned, a bittersweet ache filling her heart.

Fu Wenzhou was always this earnest.

He treated their relationship seriously, cherishing their time together, hoping every important day would hold memorable moments.

He was like a warrior, steadfastly guarding and fulfilling their love.

Though at an age for romance and carefree pleasures, he willingly trapped himself in her city like a captive beast.

Song Qingyou didn’t know how to respond to such fierce and passionate love from this little dog. She parted her lips, feeling a bit choked up.

Fu Wenzhou kissed her eyelids. “Qingyou, what do you wish for?”

She said softly, “Isn’t it true that wishes made after midnight don’t count?”

Fu Wenzhou’s eyes lifted, a mischievous glint appearing. His jawline and Adam’s apple stood out beautifully, exuding a casual charm. Song Qingyou watched his sensual Adam’s apple bob.

Then a low laugh came to her ear. His hoarse voice was slow, laden with unspoken temptation. “Sister, I’m your magic lamp.”

I am your magic lamp, so—

You just need to make a wish to me.

Song Qingyou’s heart raced uncontrollably; she could almost hear the rapid beating.

A blush spread across her cheeks. She covered her mouth, coughing softly. “That might not work.”

“Hm?” Fu Wenzhou responded lazily.

A smile flickered at the corner of Song Qingyou’s eye. “Because before, I always wished you’d stay away from me.”

Fu Wenzhou was speechless.

His narrow eyes curved into a dangerous arc. In a low voice, he said, “If your heart is sincere, the wish will come true. Seems like your heart wasn’t very honest.”

“Pfft!” Song Qingyou finally burst out laughing. “Fu Wenzhou, you’re shameless.”

He snorted dismissively. Without this face thicker than a city wall, could he ever win the beauty?

Though he liked to play rogue in front of Song Qingyou, he was self-aware.

She poked him. “Where’s the cake?”

“In the fridge,” Fu Wenzhou said, then added as if seeking praise, “I made it myself.”

Song Qingyou reached up and ruffled his black hair, feeling its softness beneath her palm. “Mm, Zhouzhou, you’re amazing.”

Fu Wenzhou’s eyes lifted teasingly. “Now you admit I’m amazing? Why did you always think porridge was better before?”

“Huh?” Song Qingyou was momentarily confused.

Fu Wenzhou said, “That cat without eggs—can it bake a cake? It just lazes around sleeping.”

“...” Song Qingyou was silent. “So?”

Fu Wenzhou went with the flow. “So you should hug me more from now on, not that stupid cat.”

Song Qingyou rubbed her forehead. “Why do you always compare yourself to a cat?”

Fu Wenzhou chuckled mockingly. “Because you always said I wasn’t as good as it before.”

Song Qingyou fell completely silent.

Had she really said that?

How should one soothe an angry little dog?