Mistaken Canary Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Lu Zongcai and a few of the girls helped the drunkards one by one to their cars, then turned to Gao Da, sprawled on the couch. With a commanding tone, she ordered, "Hurry up and get to the car."
"Got it!" Gao Da responded instantly, his drunken brain barely registering the command as he staggered his way outside.
Mandy watched, impressed. To think these drunk people could be so obedient! “Director Lu,” she asked, “you have such a way with your husband. How do you do it?”
“A good beating when he's disobedient,” Lu Zongcai replied, her eyes scanning the room. “Where’s Tongchen?”
Mandy: “Oh, Director Ying said he ran into a friend and went to meet him. He told us not to worry.”
Lu Zongcai: "A friend?" Her brow furrowed slightly as she thought of that muscular guy he sometimes hung out with. “Alright, let’s head back.”
The clamor of the private room slowly died down as the partygoers trickled out.
Only then did Ying Tongchen let out a breath he'd been holding. The flimsy wall offered little reassurance.
The two remaining drunkards (YT&ZS) nearly fell asleep on the couch.
It wasn’t until the waiter knocked on the door that Ying Tongchen stirred groggily, his gaze falling on his flushed inner thighs. He buckled back his pants, then pinched Zhuo Shu’s cheek with a sharp tug.
He then pulled out his phone and called Meng Gong. His fitness club was nearby, and it was just the right time—Meng Gong's shift was ending.
When Zhuo Shu woke up, he found himself in an unfamiliar, small room. The bed—no, sofa bed—was cramped!
His head was spinning.
His body felt as though it had been beaten to a pulp.
Who did this to him?! What had they done to his kidneys?!
Clink clink—
Crash crash—
A discordant clang of pots and pans echoed from the nearby kitchen.
Drawn by the noise, Zhuo Shu sat up, slipped on his shoes, and walked toward the source of the commotion. There, he found Ying Tongchen standing in the kitchen, wearing loose loungewear, with an apron tied around his waist, the strings cinching to reveal his slim figure—looking every bit like a good wife and loving mother.
The illusion, however, was broken by his indifferent expression and the burnt smell of porridge wafting from the pot.
“What are you doing?” Zhuo Shu asked, wrinkling his nose at the smell. “Trying to poison me with that?”
“Awake, are we?” Ying Tongchen glanced at him and casually tossed a handful of cilantro into the pot. “You’re just in time. Can you cook?”
Zhuo Shu: “No.”
"Then I guess I’ll manage." Ying Tongchen resignedly continued to fiddle with breakfast, adding a pinch of salt and a couple of century eggs to the pot.
Zhuo Shu surveyed the chaotic mix of ingredients in the pot. "I'm suddenly feeling inspired. I think I could actually whip something up now."
"If you think you can, then go ahead."
"Forget it." Zhuo Shu sighed, rubbing his head. "Can we just order takeout?"
Ying Tongchen: "If I could, I would have already."
Breakfast options nearby were limited. Since many shops catered to students they were closed for the holiday. Delivery wasn't an option for the few that remained open. Usually, a quick post-run breakfast was ideal, but today, managing to rise at all felt like a victory—there was no way he was going downstairs.
"This is the only option we have. Just make do with it. Go wash your face and brush your teeth first; the new toothbrushes are in the cabinet next to you."
…
The rhythmic brushing of his teeth gave Zhuo Shu a moment to take in the apartment. Though smaller than his bedroom, it exuded an air of order and tranquility.
Grooming complete, he reached the door just as Ying Tongchen was setting a pot of porridge on the dining table, busying himself with bowls and chopsticks.
Zhuo Shu paused, taking in the scene. Then the Cinderella trope his scoundrel friends had joked about popped into his head.
He frowned, considering the implications. After he'd gotten drunk last night, this person had mysteriously appeared, helping him thwart Hu Shuo's plan, and then they naturally... cough, cough.
Later, taking advantage of his unconscious state, the person had brought him back to their own home, giving him a full tour of their apartment and thoughtfully preparing a heartfelt breakfast.
Wasn't this the hardworking, kind-hearted Cinderella persona, after all?
Zhuo Shu's lips curved into a knowing, ambiguous smile.
"Come eat," Ying Tongchen said, ladling out two bowls of porridge.
Zhuo Shu sat down, his eyes glued to the bowl, struggling to find the right words. "You live here alone?" he blurted.
"Yes."
"So, uh, how much does this place cost you?"
"It's rented."
Zhuo Shu looked at him with sympathy. "Your job must be tough."
"Well, it's just a fixed salary, but at least the five insurance and housing fund coverage[1] are pretty good," Ying Tongchen replied, taking a sip of his porridge.
Watching him eat with such composure, showing no ill effects from the porridge, Zhuo Shu took a tentative spoonful. "You’ve got insurance coverage and a housing fund, not bad—Pooh!"
Ying Tongchen: "..."
Ying Tongchen looked at the rice grains on the table. "Clean this up for me!"
"My apologies!" Zhuo Shu quickly grabbed a napkin and wiped it clean. He then took a few sips of plain water before looking at him in disbelief. "You can actually eat this?"
Ying Tongchen countered, "Is it not good?"
Zhuo Shu paused. Ying Tongchen had gone to the trouble of making breakfast, clearly trying to win him over.
"Hmm,” he said bluntly, “it's really not good."
"Then you still have to eat it." Ying Tongchen said, his hand slamming against the table. "Don't waste food. Eat it quickly and go back to your own place."
Look at that—he was upset, just because he hadn't received his approval.
Zhuo Shu smiled again. "Alright, alright, you've already caught my attention. No need to throw a tantrum anymore."
Troubling, really—his little lover was so quick to anger. What was he supposed to do?
He was then unceremoniously kicked out.
Standing at the door, he paced back and forth, growing increasingly irritated. He was so angry, he almost wanted to slam the door, but when Zhuo Shu saw the flyers stuck to it, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Once outside, he pulled out his phone and called Mi Shu. "Hey, find me a few apartments."
Mi Shu: "What's the purpose?"
"To rent it out to someone else," Zhuo Shu glanced back at the building, "I want him to cry and beg me to forgive him! Hehehe."
Mi Shu: "Chairman, you're clearly giving someone else an apartment. Why are you laughing like a villain?"
Zhuo Shu: "Am I? Hehehe."
The second week of school was Teacher's Day.
The class committee, using class funds, provided gifts for every teacher, and many students added their own presents for special favorites.
For the entire morning, Ying Tongchen was either lingering at the front of the classroom or in the office, sorting gifts.
A few colleagues from his department couldn't resist running over to see the spectacle.
"Mr. Ying, your gifts are always the most impressive. Let's see if there's anything special this year."
At their words, Ying Tongchen glanced at Fu Lu beside him. "The most special gift is from Ms. Fu."
It was a hard drive full of ‘study materials.’
"Really?" Another teacher said, winking at Fu Lu. "What did Ms. Fu give?"
"It's a secret." Fu Lu replied, smiling proudly as she turned and left, her achievements veiled in secrecy.
While sorting through the remaining gifts, Ying Tongchen came across a gift he quite liked—a deep blue tie of obvious quality. To his surprise, it was from class representative Zhuo Zi.
Such a thoughtful gift; it seemed only fitting to show his appreciation with a bit more homework for the class representative.
Zhuo Shu, now preoccupied with his own attire, rummaged around his room. He turned to Mi Shu, who had come to pick him up. "Where’s the tie I bought last time?"
"Ah, a few days ago, Xiao Zi took it when she went to school,” Mi Shu explained. “She said since you weren't wearing it, she thought it’d be better to give it to her dear teacher."
As it was a gift for the teacher, he couldn't very well ask for it back.
"Tell Zhuo Zi she's on cleanup duty—herself—when she gets back this weekend," Zhuo Shu casually picked out another tie and got dressed for work. He then headed to the company.
K.W. was located in the city center. This move, driven by CBD planning, had fueled the company's rapid development.
The mall was positioned as ultra-high-end, with only well-known international brands on the upper floors. Mid- and lower-priced shops occupied the lower levels, from floors B1 to B3.
While the regular foot traffic wasn’t particularly heavy, the mall's clientele consisted primarily of high-net-worth individuals who readily utilized their credit cards.
In contrast to the vibrant atmosphere of other malls, K.W. was a destination for serious shoppers, not casual window browsers looking to escape the heat.
The company's offices occupied the top floor, and all departments were operating efficiently.
Mi Shu pushed open the door, and greetings of "Chairman Zhuo" followed him. Zhuo Shu walked into the conference room, flipping through the documents on the table.
"National Day event—inviting Liu Li'ang?" Zhuo Shu glanced at the manager of the planning department.
"Yes, Liu Li'ang is an idol turned actor, excellent at both singing and dancing. His recent drama was a huge hit, and his popularity is soaring. He's the hottest male celebrity of this summer. Securing him would guarantee a successful event," the manager replied.
Zhuo Shu studied the photo—handsome, striking features—but he disliked such heavy makeup. More importantly, Zhuo Zi's infatuation with this celebrity had become a distraction from her studies.
Though he'd recently thrown away all the posters, she hadn't protested, burying herself instead in her English textbook.
"Any other options?" Zhuo Shu asked.
"Other options…” the manager began, then explained, “they either aren't as famous as Liu Li'ang or aren't available. He’s really our best bet right now."
"Actually, I have someone in mind," Zhuo Shu said, pausing thoughtfully. When he looked up, a faint smile, one he hadn't consciously registered, touched his lips. "Perhaps, you've heard of Ying Tongchen?"
Planning Department: "?"
Everyone: "???"
The planning department looked at each other, puzzled.
The manager awkwardly smiled. "We’re not exactly familiar with the entertainment industry. Could you perhaps provide some information about Ying Tongchen's work, Chairman Zhuo?"
"No idea," Zhuo Shu replied.
Nonsense, how could he possibly know something that even Baidu couldn’t figure out?
A thought struck him: Should he have someone create a Baidu entry for Ying Tongchen? He was practically nonexistent.
"Our event stage involves audience participation and two stage performances," the manager said, his voice slightly strained as he wiped his face. He suspected this was some kind of test. "So, does he have anything worth noting?"
"Anything worth noting?" Zhuo Shu’s mind instantly conjured an image of Ying Tongchen, and he blurted out without thinking, "He’s got really long legs."
Planning department: "..."
It’s confirmed, the boss is messing with us.
Everyone: "..."
The manager quickly tried to recover. "Long legs are good for a runway,” he said. “But what else does he have?"
Sponsor Daddy was now in a dilemma. Zhuo Shu tapped his fingers on the desk, searching for any marketable qualities Ying Tongchen might have.
Could his ability to moan and gasp count?
Or maybe his talent for translating adult films, would that count?
Sigh, what a waste of time—he had such a useless, impractical little talent. How was he supposed to find a good resource for that? How could he ever make him a ‘movie emperor’?
.
.
.
Footnote:
[1] insurance coverage and housing fund (五险一金) - literally translates to ‘five social insurance and one housing fund’. This terms refers to the following: insurances and housing fund:
1. endowment insurance（养老保险）
2. medical insurance（医疗保险）
3. unemployment insurance（失业保险）
4. work-related injury insurance（工伤保险）
5. childbirth insurance（生育保险）
6. housing accumulation funds（住房公积金）