EWH 23

Xu Wanhe wasn’t in a good mood. “Alright, whatever. Just leave it. Throw it away.”

As soon as Yang Moshou heard that, he stood up, grabbed Xu Wanhe’s shoe, and flung it hard toward the outside.

It almost hit a waitress.

Yang Moshou quickly apologized and brushed the dust off his hands before sitting back down to continue drinking his soup.

Xu Wanhe stretched his leg out and stared at him.

“I said throw the sock, not the fucking shoe. How am I supposed to walk back now?”

Yang Moshou glanced at the little wad of sock on the floor. “You didn’t make it clear. I thought you were grossed out by the shoe…”

Then he muttered under his breath, “That sock was a gift from me, you know.”

Just then, a group of underlings in black sunglasses came in. The one in front was holding a shoe, all of them looking serious, like their boss had been beat so bad he lost his footwear.

Once they saw everything was fine inside, they let out a collective sigh.

“Xu-ge, your shoe.”

Xu Wanhe lifted his foot slightly, and the underling crouched down to put the sock back on.

Xu Wanhe kicked him. “The hell are you doing? Put the shoe on.”

Yang Moshou looked at him. “Wearing leather shoes without socks makes your feet sweat.”

The underling glanced back and signaled someone behind him. “Go get a pair of socks.”

Xu Wanhe waved it off and frowned. “Too much trouble. Forget it. Let’s go.”

When he stood up, Yang Moshou knew that was the end of his meal too. He had no choice but to follow.

The little yellow sock got kicked aside and stomped on a few more times by people walking past.

Yang Moshou saw it but didn’t say anything. He just looked down at his watch.

“I’ve got to get back to work. It’s time.”

Xu Wanhe didn’t even turn around. He glanced at the man next to him.

“You. Drive him back.”

Yang Moshou looked at his back and suddenly lost all desire to follow him. He thought to himself, maybe it’s better if he stays tacky and clueless forever.

Right before getting into the car, Xu Wanhe paused and looked back at him.

“I’ll come get you after work.”

Yang Moshou didn’t respond. He just let the underling lead him into another car.

Once he was seated, he sneaked a glance out the window, hoping to catch another look at Xu Wanhe.

But he was already gone.

No idea if the guy was pissed, but Yang Moshou himself definitely was.

At his beck and call, dismissed just as easily.

When he was dropped back at work, it was right on time to clock in.

That afternoon, Yang Moshou saw a few patients. During a break, he called up a friend, set a time and place, and made dinner plans for the evening.

As it got closer to the end of his shift, Yang Moshou turned off his phone and stood by the window, scanning for a while.

There was a car parked at the hospital entrance. A modified Subaru Forester.

He relaxed, went downstairs, and slipped out through the back door, heading straight for the small restaurant he had agreed on with a friend.

The friend showed up on time too. They got a small private room, ordered a few side dishes, two jin of white liquor, and sat there drinking through most of the night.

The guy across from him got drunk and ended up crying, snot bubbles and all, venting about a scumbag until midnight. When they finally couldn’t drink anymore, Yang Moshou helped drag him home.

After managing to settle the drunk mess on the couch, Yang Moshou turned his phone back on.

There were a few missed calls. Not a ton, but at least two. The last one was from around eight in the evening, labeled “Xu Xiaomei.” After that, nothing.

Half-drunk, Yang Moshou strolled back along the street.

He hadn’t even made it home when a luxury car pulled up and blocked him.

A tall man got out, face stiff and cold. He tilted his head toward the men behind him. “Take him.”

Yang Moshou froze, instinctively stepped back two paces, and pulled out the last fifty bucks in his pocket. “Bro, this is all I’ve got. I didn’t see anything. I won’t report you either.”

The man lifted his chin slightly, face shadowed. “Cut the crap.”

Before he could react, two big guys grabbed him. Just as he tried to kick out, his arms were wrenched behind his back and he was shoved into the car.

The backseat was pitch black. Something small and curled up was lying there, seemingly asleep.

Every hair on Yang Moshou’s body stood on end. “What the hell do you want from me?”

The guy in the driver’s seat glanced at him coldly. “You messed with the wrong man. That’s what.”

Yang Moshou stared at him, suddenly realizing he was the same guy he saw at Donghai Tower the other day, fighting with that drag queen.

“It’s you… You’re kidnapping me as a hostage?” Cold sweat spread down his neck. “Xu Xiaomei? I don’t even know him that well. I don’t even know how old he is, just how big he is down there. I slept with him and now I’m paying for it? Why not arrest his damn pillow and blanket too while you’re at it?”

Fei Qi couldn’t be bothered to respond. He made a call.

“Tang-ge. Found him. We’re on our way.”

Yang Moshou was starting to panic. “What are you people..”

Before he could finish, something was shoved into his mouth. Yellow. Looked like a sock.

His hands were tied. Someone pushed him roughly, and he ended up stuffed in the backseat next to that curled-up kid.

About fifteen minutes later, the car stopped in front of a villa.

Yang Moshou struggled upright and looked out. The headlights lit up the area. More than ten people had gotten out and surrounded the place.

The man standing in the center had a pale face, glowing under the lights like he’d dusted it with setting powder.

Tang Ziyan curled his lips into a smile and called out toward the villa.

“Your wife and kid are in my hands. Aren’t you coming out yet?”

Yang Moshou’s jaw went slack. The yellow sock fell from his mouth.

“Huh? You’re talking about me?”

Fei Qi glanced at him. “What do you think?”

The kid was black as coal and dressed like a bumpkin.

The corner of Yang Moshou’s mouth twitched.

Just one look, and he knew exactly whose kid it was.

The villa doors burst open with a loud bang. An old man stormed out, dry and skinny, his hair completely white. He was holding a submachine gun, wearing red on top, green on the bottom, his leather shoes shining like mirrors, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he roared in fury.

“Fuck your mother! Let Xiao Yang and my son go, or I’ll blow your damn head off right now!”

It was then that Yang Moshou realized his own hair had turned white too.

And in that moment, he understood.

They really did end up together.

They spent a whole lifetime.

Long enough for their hair to turn white, long enough for his face to be full of wrinkles, and still, this man called him Xiao Yang.

Yang Moshou was about to cry. “Xiaomei… I’m here… me and the kid are both fine… I’ll deal with Tang… you go home and make dinner…”

“Dinner my ass,” Old Xu growled. “Let me take care of that bastard Tang Ziyan first, then we’ll eat. By the way, I bought your favorite food and put it in the fridge…”

Yang Moshou burst out laughing, and woke up.

As soon as he saw the snoring man beside him, he realized it was all a dream.

He rolled his eyes at nothing in particular and got up to pay the bill.

After smacking his drunk friend awake, the two of them stumbled out and flagged down a cab together.

During the ride, Yang Moshou remembered his phone and turned it back on.

A flood of missed call alerts and message notifications came pouring in nonstop.

The drunk man couldn’t hold it anymore and slumped against Yang Moshou’s shoulder, dry heaving. “I feel like throwing up…”

Yang Moshou kept rubbing his back. “Hold on, a car’s coming… hey, there’s a cab.”

The car pulled up in front of them. Yang Moshou, barely holding himself together, propped his friend up and told the driver the address.

But after he finished, the driver didn’t move.

And his face looked downright pissed.

Yang Moshou’s tongue felt thick. “What… what’s your problem…”

Xu Wanhe hadn’t gone there on purpose. He just couldn’t sleep and was aimlessly driving around the city. Then, out of nowhere, he saw this guy tangled up with someone on the street.

His mood was already bad, and after being stood up like that, seeing this just made it worse.

He kept telling himself it didn’t matter, that he didn’t care. But the whole time, he was flicking ash out the window, fuming.

When the cigarette burned down to the butt, he flicked it onto the pavement, stepped out of the car, grabbed Yang Moshou by the collar, and yanked him upright.

“You fucking playing with me?”