Mistaken Canary Chapter 8 (Part 2)
Chapter 8.2
By the time the meeting ended, it was already evening.
Since it was Gao Da and Lu Zongcai’s wedding anniversary, Gao Da waved his hand grandly. "Let’s have a dinner gathering!"
The group, now in high spirits, streamed out of the office and headed for the restaurant.
Ying Tongchen's car was packed with colleagues, and the newcomers, with their naturally outgoing personalities, began chatting and soon broke into song.
Halen, bold as ever, sang several songs, each one more off-key than the last, and then asked Ying Tongchen if she sounded good.
Ying Tongchen chuckled and commented, "Go easy on me—we’re all on the same side."
The car echoed with laughter, passengers swaying with the merriment.
Their destination: a high-end hotel, home to the restaurant where they would celebrate. The company was relatively small, so a private room with three tables was sufficient to accommodate everyone. The group, mostly young, enjoyed a few drinks to liven up the atmosphere, and Ying Tongchen joined in the revelry.
As the evening wore on, the room grew warmer and the laughter louder. Feeling overheated, Ying Tongchen excused himself and went to the restroom to splash some cold water on his face. His senses began to clear.
He walked to the window, welcoming the cool breeze against his face, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes Gao Da had given him earlier. He lit one, the flame briefly illuminating his face, took a long drag, and watched a plume of smoke drift upwards as he exhaled.
Just then, a deep voice echoed from one of the restroom stalls: "Sweetheart, don’t cry; your dad’s got this covered. It’s just some lousy guy—Daddy will find you someone better."
"Alright, alright, don’t worry. You’ll definitely find someone better. We’re done working with him anyway—he clearly doesn’t know his own worth. Trust me, I’ve got plenty of ways to ruin him."
"He’s into men, isn’t he? Then I’ll make sure his reputation is completely ruined by tomorrow!"
Ying Tongchen stubbed out his cigarette and staggered back, unsteady on his feet as he leaned against the corridor railing. Behind him, a middle-aged man brushed past, walking straight ahead while speaking into his phone, "Get me a few gigolos."
Ying Tongchen narrowed his eyes slightly as he walked, one after the other, toward their respective rooms.
Then, a door to a private room opened, revealing a glimpse inside. Ying Tongchen glanced—and froze.
The door closed quickly.
As Mandy emerged from the restroom, she spotted Ying Tongchen standing outside the neighboring door. "Director Ying, you're at the wrong door. This one’s ours," she said.
"Wait here for a second. I need to wash my face again," Ying Tongchen mumbled, still feeling disoriented, and hurried back to the restroom. He vigorously splashed cold water on his face, adjusted his tie, and casually unbuttoned his shirt collar, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone.
When he looked up, his eyes were misty, his cheeks flushed, and his chest damp from the water.
Mandy waited, and when she saw Ying Tongchen return, she noticed a subtle change in his demeanor. Her heart raced, and she couldn’t help but stammer, "Direct—Director Ying…"
Ying Tongchen approached, glanced around the immediate area, and lowered his voice, "Did you bring perfume?"
"Yes," Mandy replied, her face turning red, unsure if it was from embarrassment or the alcohol.
"Let me borrow it for a moment."
Confused, Mandy quickly grabbed the perfume from her bag and handed it to him.
Ying Tongchen sprayed himself generously, returned the perfume, and gently nudged her back toward their private room. "Go ahead and enjoy your meal. I spotted an old friend, so I’m going to say hello. No need to wait for me."
"What friend? Aren’t you eating with us?" Mandy started to ask, but the gentle push back into the room cut her off.
Ying Tongchen knocked on the door of the next room. After a brief pause, the middle-aged man opened it, his eyes scanning Ying Tongchen from head to toe.
"Hello," Ying Tongchen greeted him, leaning casually against the doorframe and looking at the man. "I was sent by the manager." The pungent scent of the perfume made the man's eyebrows furrow, his frown intensifying as his gaze settled on Ying Tongchen’s face. "Why send someone so attractive? Just you alone?"
"Yes, business is good, and I'm the only one free right now."
"Come on in."
Ying Tongchen walked in, his eyes immediately going to the young man at the table. The young man, visibly tipsy, was slouched back in his chair. When he glanced over and saw Ying Tongchen, a flicker of something crossed his face before he looked away.
"Uncle Hu," Zhuo Shu asked casually, toying with his cup, "what’s going on here?"
"I heard you have a thing for men?" Hu Shuo chuckled, giving Ying Tongchen a nudge forward. "I’ve specifically found someone for you, to help you unwind."
Zhuo Shu lifted his gaze, briefly assessing Ying Tongchen. "Such a fine specimen—where did you find him?"
Hu Shuo waved his hand dismissively. "Don’t worry about it. He’s a professional. He’ll take good care of you."
Zhuo Shu casually draped an arm around Ying Tongchen's waist, pulling him firmly on his lap, then raised his wine glass to offer him a sip.
Ying Tongchen: "......"
What was this sense of déjà vu? It seems like this person doesn’t need help at all.
Zhuo Shu shot Hu Shuo a glance. "With you standing here watching, it’s a bit hard for us to get things done, isn’t it?"
"I'm sure I’ll keep my distance," Hu Shuo said, his eyes conveying a silent proposition to Ying Tongchen. "But I’m not sure if this person can satisfy you."
Zhuo Shu's eyes locked on Ying Tongchen’s, the intensity in them almost overwhelming, making his thoughts impossible to guess.
"Don’t worry," Ying Tongchen murmured, his lashes fluttering gently as he wrapped his arm around Zhuo Shu's neck. He slowly closed his eyes, the taste of alcohol on his breath mingling with Zhuo Shu's as their lips met.
Hu Shuo subtly indicated his phone, a silent prompt for Ying Tongchen to take a few photos. Ying Tongchen nodded in acknowledgment.
Once Hu Shuo left and closed the door behind him, the two of them, mid-kiss, simultaneously broke away.
Ying Tongchen staggered slightly as he leaned against the edge of the table, rubbing his brow wearily.
"What are you doing here?" Zhuo Shu grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up. "Sent here to tempt me on someone else's orders?"
"Just passing through," Ying Tongchen said, the redness lingering at the corners of his eyes. Finding explanations tedious, he lowered his head and bit down on Zhuo Shu's finger. His eyes, now gleaming with a hint of defiance, met Zhuo Shu's. "If you don’t believe me, try me."
Zhuo Shu chuckled softly.
Of course, he knew Ying Tongchen wasn’t part of Hu Shuo’s scheme. If he had that many tricks and connections, he wouldn't have fallen so low as to become his canary.
The dinner tonight was a trap from the beginning, and Zhuo Shu had taken sobering medicine in advance. But since the other side kept playing the emotional card, he had to keep up the act.
Although they had worked with the Hu family several times, they always assumed his success was solely due to their support. Now, they were disregarding established market norms in their demands.
Greedy and insatiable.
"Since you’ve done me a favor tonight, I can reward you. Tell me, what do you want?" Zhuo Shu asked.
Ying Tongchen let out a soft laugh.
Still not satisfied playing the domineering sugar daddy for the lady and the middle-aged man?
"Will you give me everything I want?" Ying Tongchen countered.
Zhuo Shu felt a brief surge of satisfaction, but quickly became wary, fearing the little thing might ask for too much. "Tell me what you have in mind first."
Ying Tongchen shifted his position slightly. "I want to be on top."
"..." Audacious mUcH?!
"Looks like you’re not done playing around," Zhuo Shu said, holding him close and playfully pinching his thigh. "There’s a room upstairs if you want to continue."
"Forget it, forget it." Ying Tongchen quickly shook his head, he might tear (down there) if they were to go at it again.
"Then let's do it another way." With a smooth motion, Zhuo Shu pulled him onto the sofa, unbuttoning his pants as he went. He then positioned Ying Tongchen's legs, a subtle assertion of control.
Ying Tongchen: "…"
He wanted to curse a blue streak, momentarily stumped on whether to unleash his wrath in Chinese or English.
Then, when his thigh skin was harshly rubbed, he couldn’t hold back and let out a mixed expletive in both languages.
MMP*.
(TLN: lolol mmp should be an acronym for 媽賣批 (mā mài pī), which is a sexist expletive phrase from the Chongqing dialect. It means "Your mom is a prostitute." A more anglicized translation of this curse would be ‘son of a bitch’.)