EWH 22

Xu Wanhe dragged Yang Moshou out of the hotel before finally letting go.

Yang Moshou took a deep breath. “What the hell is your problem…”

Xu Wanhe took a drag of his cigarette. “Are you fucking blind? You think that guy’s good-looking? Doesn’t he just scream erectile dysfunction to you?”

Yang Moshou stared at him, and for some reason, penile cancer popped into his head.

Looking at Xu Wanhe’s darkened brow, he really did have the face of someone with that kind of illness, so he didn’t bother arguing. “Weren’t we upstairs getting a room? Where are we going now?”

One of the underlings drove the car over and parked in front of them.

A guy nearby leaned over and opened the door.

Xu Wanhe ducked slightly and got in. “Why the fuck would I hang around a hotel run by some whore? We’re going back to my place.”

Yang Moshou saw the front passenger seat empty, so he opened the door to get in.

“This whole hotel is run by a woman? Damn, she must be real capable…”

But before his ass even hit the seat, a roar came from behind.

“Get your ass back here!”

An underling quickly stepped up to help Yang Moshou. “Ge, sit in the back. The passenger seat’s not the right place.”

Yang Moshou was pushed into the back and ended up beside Xu Wanhe. He looked up at him. “You’ve got such a temper all the time. Your liver’s probably overloaded. Are you constipated?”

Xu Wanhe’s cigarette dropped to the floor. “Is your mom pushing you to get a fucking enema?”

Yang Moshou glanced at his watch. “It’s already one. I haven’t even eaten yet, and I’ve got work soon…”

Xu Wanhe’s face stayed cold. “Don’t go. Go buy some stuff for me at the mall.”

Yang Moshou frowned. “If I miss my clock-in, they’ll deduct pay. And I haven’t eaten. I’ve got no energy to tag along with you. You already ate.”

Xu Wanhe lit another cigarette, his voice low. “What do you want to eat?”

Yang Moshou blinked. “You’re treating me?”

Xu Wanhe smirked. “Hurry up and cut the crap.”

Yang Moshou thought for a second. “Let’s get rice noodles. There’s this place that’s amazing. I’ll take you.”

He tilted his head toward the driver. “Near Zhen’ai Xiehe Hospital, on Yuying Road. There’s a little shop there…”

Xu Wanhe paused. “That one…”

Yang Moshou’s mouth was already watering. “Seriously, it’s amazing. One bite and you’ll never forget it.”

Xu Wanhe looked like he was deep in thought. “I used to go there a lot. But I stopped.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Because it started out with two people. Then it was just me,” Xu Wanhe snapped out of it, a flash of anger in his eyes. “Pick a different place. I don’t want to go.”

Yang Moshou didn’t quite get the full meaning of his words, but looking at his expression, he understood enough.

He lost his appetite instantly. “Forget it. I don’t want to eat anymore.”

Xu Wanhe didn’t notice the shift in his mood. His voice lowered. “Let’s go to Yudingxiang. I’ll take you to eat pufferfish.”

Yang Moshou slumped. “You trying to poison me or what?”

Xu Wanhe didn’t respond. He silently lit a cigarette and slowly blew out a smoke ring.

Ten minutes later, the convoy arrived at the restaurant.

Because the underlings had called ahead, the moment the two sat down, the pufferfish soup was brought to the table.

Yang Moshou picked up his spoon and stirred the milky-white broth, took a casual sip. “This is amazing.”

The man sitting across from him frowned impatiently. “Hurry up and eat. We’ve got things to do after this.”

A bit of joy appeared on Yang Moshou’s face. As he sipped his soup, he glanced at the yellow socks peeking out from Xu Wanhe’s pants and started feeling better. Just then, a waitress carrying a stack of dirty dishes walked past them. She suddenly lost her balance and staggered backward.

Yang Moshou reacted quickly and reached out to steady her by the arm.

Still, a few dishes slipped and shattered on the ground.

The waitress blushed and faced Yang Moshou. “Thank you.”

Yang Moshou sat back down. “It’s alright. Just don’t carry so many next time.”

As he spoke, he noticed Xu Wanhe looked down at the floor with a slightly annoyed expression.

Yang Moshou followed his gaze and saw that one of the plates had landed right on Xu Wanhe’s foot.

The waitress’s face turned even redder. “I’m so sorry, sir. Really, I’m sorry…”

Before Xu Wanhe’s underlings could open their mouths to curse her out, Yang Moshou waved her off.

Then he crouched down and looked up at Xu Wanhe.

The man still had no expression, just stared down at his now-greasy red leather shoes.

Yang Moshou sighed helplessly. “Did she hit your pressure point or what?”

Xu Wanhe lifted his eyes. “Who gave you the nerve to let her go?”

Yang Moshou pulled out a napkin and started wiping his shoe. “You’re really something. Getting this worked up over dirty shoes? I wiped it off, didn’t I? Besides, none of you said anything, so I just let her leave. Your reflexes aren’t exactly fast either.”

Xu Wanhe choked on his words. “You fucking..”

Yang Moshou cut him off. “It’s clean now. See? Nothing happened.”

Xu Wanhe spoke coldly. “My sock’s wet too.”

Yang Moshou crouched again. “Seriously?”

He glanced around, saw no one was paying attention, and slipped off Xu Wanhe’s shoe.

Sure enough, the sock was soaked with broth.

The two underlings who had followed them in quickly stepped up. “Xu ge, I’ll go out and buy you a new pair.”

But Xu Wanhe didn’t even look at them. He kept his eyes on Yang Moshou. “Stop wiping. Just take it off. It’s disgusting.”

Yang Moshou held his breath. “Are you sure this is okay? We’re in public… also, you don’t have foot odor, right?”

“No!” Xu Wanhe looked like he wanted to kick him in the face. “Fuck off and hurry up.”

Yang Moshou quickly pulled off the five-toe sock.

The color had bled.

Xu Wanhe was stunned for a moment.

Yang Moshou silently cursed the quality of Taobao freebies, but didn’t say it out loud. “This sock’s impressive. Looks worn even when it’s new. So economical.”

Surprisingly, Xu Wanhe didn’t get mad. “No way. I remember you said this was Adidas. Why’s it bleeding color…”

Yang Moshou quickly grabbed it and checked. At the bottom was a pale yellow logo, but it wasn’t Adidas.

It was Adivon.

And the logo hadn’t faded at all. It had left a blank imprint right under Xu Wanhe’s foot.

Like a stamp.

So this was the level of brand awareness in the underworld.

Yang Moshou felt a little bitter.

He suddenly had the urge to spend the rest of his life with this man wearing fake Adidas. To trade all his years of fashion sense just to make him look half-decent for once.