The plane ride back to London took over ten hours, and Sulanqiao never completely fell asleep, whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Chu's face, heard Chu's voice, and the sound of his own labored breathing.
He couldn't help but tightly grip the soft black shirt that Chu had put on him after their night of exhaustion.
Last night, after they both tired themselves out, Chu even took him to shower.
This person seemed fierce on the outside, but deep down, he was a natural gentleman and tender-hearted.
He mulled over those moments over and over again, finally falling asleep contentedly, arriving at Heathrow Airport in a semi-dream state.
Right after getting off the plane, he received a call from Yuexi, sounding excited, "What happened on the day of the shoot?"
"Not much, it was quite enjoyable," Sulanqiao casually responded while pushing his luggage in the direction of the parking lot.
Yuexi asked with suspicion, "The payment for the ad has been made, I'll transfer it to you later. But they paid three times the amount, did you make some under the table deal behind my back?"
Sulanqiao stopped in his tracks, smirked, and said, "Chu Corporation really paid three times?"
Heh, that nap he took was really worth it.
"Yeah, I confirmed it several times," Yuexi sighed, "Sure enough, big companies are really generous!"
Sulanqiao lowered his eyes, a smile forming a small dimple, "Return the money, I won't take a single penny. Your share, I'll transfer it separately."
"Why? I don't get it," Yuexi was puzzled, with the tone of someone who cared about money, "You're just a newcomer, and you don't have much money in your pocket. Besides, who would complain about too much money?"
"I won't take it, return it," Sulanqiao firmly insisted. He wanted Chu to be troubled, to gnaw at him like a thorn, to bitterly remember it every time he thought about it.
Just imagining that splendid and colorful face was amusing enough for him.
Yuexi sighed, disappointed, "You really are going to return it, huh, well, couldn't you at least help out this poor man? It's tens of thousands."
"No more on that, I'm about to get in the car," Sulanqiao's smile disappeared from his face, and he leaned back slightly, waiting for the butler to come down to the car.
The butler, Alan, had been serving the family for decades, with a head full of white hair and a face weathered and ravaged by the passage of time.
Bowing respectfully, he took the luggage from Sulanqiao, "Young master, you've returned."
"Where's Alan?" Sulanqiao stepped onto the car with long legs, tossing himself into the soft leather seat wearily, adjusting his posture several times before feeling a little more comfortable.
The butler hesitated, stuttering, "As I mentioned on the phone earlier, the young master said he would wait for you to return and dig out your mother's ashes, and the workers are all ready now."
"Drive me back," Sulanqiao clenched his teeth, that brat, looking for trouble.
Sulanqiao and his half-brother Alan shared the same father but different mothers; Alan saw him as a thorn in his side, being arrogant and disrespectful since he was young. And because his mother was Chinese, Alan would mock him as a mixed-blood with impure lineage.
Ha, who cared about the broken English ancestry, he would rather have just the name Sulanqiao for the rest of his life.
Children raised in such a complicated family would grow up either indifferent or stubborn.
In recent years, Sulanqiao had returned to his mother's hometown of Chengdu for studies, then began modeling after graduating. If not for visiting his mother's grave annually, he wouldn't have wanted to step inside this house.
His mother's grave stood alone in the back garden of the castle for a long time.
Time passes quickly, 8 years have gone by in the blink of an eye.
The car arrived at the castle in the town of Cambridge, the entire structure occupying 60 acres, its medieval design, having gone through the baptism of time, exuding a more tasteful and understated luxury throughout.
Indeed, he wasn't lacking in that little advertising money.
Sulanqiao strode past the grove and moved towards the back garden, catching sight of the worker using his shovel, his icy voice resounded, "Want to try moving again?"
"I thought you weren't coming back this year." Alan leaned against a tree lazily, offering a fake smile, opening his arms, "Long time no see, no hug?"
Sulanqiao raised his eyes coldly, his voice devoid of warmth, "Don't act so hypocritically, is this grave bothering you?"
"The house is beautiful, sure, but every time I'm in a bad mood and walk over here, I always feel a bit eerie," Alan shrank his neck, pretending to be afraid, "You know I'm timid, I'm afraid... of ghosts."
Several workers are laughing freely with shovels in hand.
That's how it has always been in this family. No one has truly respected his mother.
She was such a gentle person, living a miserable life, and even in death, she couldn't find peace.
Sulanqiao gently approached and brushed off the dust on the tombstone, revealing the two characters "Su Yun," which looked out of place among the surrounding English words in fancy script.
The woman in the photo had a beautiful smile, frozen in a very young likeness.
Alan, the kid, had a mischievous heart but lacked the courage. He only talked big, and was content with just using the shovel to clear weeds and embarrass him a little, not daring to really cause a disturbance.
Sulanqiao stared at the photo for a while before speaking slowly, "I will bring her back to China when I have the opportunity. But even if this tombstone is empty, it must stay here; no one is allowed to touch it."
"It's all Ryan's fault." Alan frowned with a self-conscious London accent. "So, how many days do you plan on staying this time?"
"It's none of your business, cabbage." Sulanqiao raised an eyebrow, a strand of hair falling gracefully, disdain evident in his beautiful eyes.
After a few years in Chengdu, he had learned everything he needed.
"What do you mean? Are you swearing at me in Chinese again?" Alan stepped forward, pressed his shoulder, his whole face wrinkling, his tone changing. "Do you believe I'll specifically find a Chinese translator to follow you in the future?"
Sulanqiao smiled with the corner of his mouth, looking arrogantly beautiful, and quietly muttered, "Your head is wrapped," although it was an insult, the tone was lazy and quite pleasing to the ear.
He turned and walked towards the front gate, saying, "Tidy up the weeds around the tombstone for me. If I'm in a good mood, I'll give you half of the company's shares."
This struck a chord with Alan.
His father was lying in the intensive care unit in critical condition, hanging by a thread. Although there was no will, the company and the house would be inherited by the eldest son as per tradition.
Now Alan and his mother were desperate, trying everything to tamper with the will.
Sulanqiao's expression turned indifferent. He really had no interest in this messy family property issue.
After resting at home for a few days, Sulanqiao finally felt the soreness from that night's events easing a little.
Chu Shi was efficient. The photo shoot had just been completed, and the images were already circulating on major platforms. Suddenly, this fresh face started appearing frequently in front of internet users.
Sulanqiao scrolled through the comments on the official account of Chu's lingerie series, Truth Official. Most of the comments were compliments, all very similar.
He had only worked as a model to pass the time, but unexpectedly, he had been fortunate enough to meet Chu Cheng this time.
But since he had asked Yue Xi to return the money that day, there had been no further activity from Chu Cheng.
It had been almost half a month. Had Chu Cheng just put this matter behind him?
Sulanqiao thought to himself, indeed, the boss of Chu, having seen the world, could remain calm.
He reread the recent reports about Chu Cheng on his phone, wandering aimlessly as he did so, until he found himself in Cambridge, Chu Cheng's alma mater.
When he was in high school, he had often skipped class to come here, sneaking into Cambridge many times. Sometimes, Chu Cheng was playing basketball, sometimes attending classes, and more often, he was expressionless, sitting alone in the library reading.
He used to think about attending the same school as Chu Cheng, having some interaction, maybe developing something.
But with a 5-year age gap between them, before he could do anything, Chu Cheng had already returned to inherit the family business.
He always fell short.
Sulanqiao leaned against a tree and let his mind wander. His phone in his pocket vibrated for quite a while before he finally pulled it out and answered the call.
The person on the other end introduced himself first, "Hello, I'm Ling Feng, Chu's assistant. We met before."
Sulanqiao's cloudy eyes lit up. He thought, "He's here, he's finally come to find me." He managed to maintain a stable tone and asked, "I remember. What is it?"
"Your recent ad has launched, and the response is good, with a significant increase in sales. So, why are you refusing the ad fee?" Ling Feng was just a messenger, and especially after learning the reason behind it, he felt even more embarrassed about the situation.
He glanced at Chu Cheng, who was sitting in a chair next to him, and couldn't help adding a comment to himself, "If it's for you, just take it, what's with the stubbornness."
Sulanqiao laughed. It had been about half a month of back and forth about this matter. "I left a note for Chu Cheng; he understands."
The phone was on speaker, and Ling Feng almost bit his tongue when he heard this. His heart raced fiercely.
This kid dared to mention leaving a note, and his casual remark had caused multiple departments to work overtime until late into the night.
"This little mixed-blood has poor Chinese skills. Chu Cheng, you shouldn't take it to heart." Ling Feng turned to Chu Cheng with an ingratiating smile.
Chu Cheng narrowed his eyes, picked up the phone from the desk and walked to the window, straightforwardly asking, "Little cat, what do you mean?"
It had been a while since Sulanqiao heard that voice. Through the phone, the deep and resonant tone reached his heart, causing his ears to turn completely red. "Chu Cheng, you too."
"Uh-huh, I'm waiting for your explanation." Chu Cheng leaned against the window and lit a cigarette, feeling around his neck where the nearly disappeared red mark was. He still harbored a grudge from this incident and was determined to bring this little wild cat back and teach him a lesson.
Sulanqiao's mouth twitched upwards crazily. What was there to explain? He had just used a little trick to catch your attention, that's all. But his words were different, "That night was indeed wonderful. I expressed my thanks with money, isn't that the most direct way for you business people? Don't misunderstand."
Chu Cheng snorted, "I also think it's not bad, so I have a way to thank you too."
"Alright, please tell me," Sulanqiao pressed the phone recording button, wanting to savor this pleasant voice a few more times.
Chu Cheng's voice came through clearly, decisive, "Sulanqiao, when you come back, sign on as the spokesperson for Truth's lingerie series."
Sulanqiao's heart was pounding like thunder, almost jumping out of his throat.
After eight years, Chu Cheng finally knew his name, calling him, Sulanqiao.