Chapter 12: Tug of War
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
Originally, the two of them had debated whether to head to the mall to buy clothes. But they changed their minds and decided they’d spend the next two days wearing nothing but the hotel robes. The young waitress enthusiastically supported their decision, even revealing that anyone who wore the robes for three days straight inside the hotel would receive a voucher for the seafood buffet.
“Our boss strongly encourages all guests to immediately switch to robes upon check-in,” she explained. “It’s a way to eliminate the universal prejudice that arises from different groups perceiving the world in their own way.”
Shi Wenze seemed to understand, though not entirely. Initially, he thought the boss encouraged wearing the robes because they were plastered with logos—essentially free advertising. But the truth became apparent: the two rows of luxury cars parked outside were no coincidence. While other hotels were still focused on team clapping exercises and chanting slogans, Fortune Grand Hotel had already united its staff around the goal of breaking down barriers and prejudices. This shift expanded the hotel’s vision, aiming not just for the status of a Marriott but for nothing less than world peace.
Love & Peace. Peace & Love.
The waitress continued, “Our boss has recently been studying Hegel, which inspired the launch of the Existence Is Reasonable couples’ spa package. After a discount, it’s only $5,999 and includes a back massage in the supreme suite on the eighth floor. Would the two of you like to try it?”
Shi Wenze was taken aback and asked, “At that price, is Hegel himself doing the massage?”
Lin Su’s expression stiffened beside him, but he held back. A brooding and aloof artist never laughed outright.
The waitress, unfazed by the banter, kept her professional composure. “Ten years of expert spa experience, full La Prairie products. Once you try it, you’ll see—it’s worth every penny. Everything that exists is rational.”
Lin Su showed no interest. He felt the evening had been eventful enough. “Are you aware,” he asked, “that during development, all current realities eventually become unrealities, replaced by something newer, trendier, and more vibrant?”
The waitress had clearly not expected a guest to counter her philosophy with more philosophy. She stared blankly, unable to process this magical-style attack that so brazenly broke all the rules.
Lin Su figured Shi Wenze didn’t fully understand either, so he clarified, “The supreme package at the hotel next door is only $1,999. It includes Valmont products and a twenty-year veteran spa therapist.”
The waitress’s expression sharpened as she rushed off to inform her supervisor of this critical piece of business intel. Shi Wenze chuckled for a moment, then turned to Lin Su. “How do you even know the prices next door?”
Lin Su pocketed his phone. “I just looked it up. The app kept sending notifications.”
Shi Wenze kept the conversation alive. “That thing you said earlier about trends and reality—made it up on the fly, didn’t you?”
Lin Su, still resting on the couch with his eyes closed, was barely moving except for his lips. “I didn’t make it up. Engels proposed it in 1886 in Ludwig Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy: existence is bound for destruction.”
Shi Wenze was speechless. “…Noted. My bad for asking.”
A moment later, Lin Su opened his eyes and looked at him. “Say something.”
“What?” Shi Wenze was puzzled.
Lin Su shifted slightly, leaning toward Shi Wenze until the large couch armrest no longer separated them. “Say the names of two philosophers.”
“…” Shi Wenze hesitated.
Lin Su’s lips curved slightly, his expression calm but clearly signaling an academic-level provocation. Shi Wenze wracked his brain for any philosophers he could remember, then finally replied, “Patrick Star.”
This time, the brooding and aloof artist couldn’t hold it in. Lin Su leaned back, covered his face with a disposable blanket, and laughed for nearly two minutes. When Shi Wenze tried to pull the blanket away, Lin Su swatted his hand and got up, saying, “I’m grabbing something to eat.”
Shi Wenze wasn’t about to let him wander off alone and followed. At the buffet, a crowd had gathered. Shi Wenze, holding a tray, stopped in front of a large stand and asked, “What’s this?”
A man with a thick northeastern accent immediately answered from behind him, “Brazilian barbecue!” He enthusiastically urged Shi Wenze to grab a piece.
It took some effort for Shi Wenze to politely decline, but he eventually found Lin Su by the grilled meat skewers. “Want some?” Lin Su asked.
“Sure,” Shi Wenze said, setting his tray down to help. “But I thought you didn’t like smoky, grilled stuff like this.”
Lin Su studied the array of spices on the rack. “So when you went out for barbecue before, you never brought me along?”
Shi Wenze hadn’t expected to walk straight into a trap question.
“High school…” After a moment of hesitation, he forced himself to reply, “You never skipped class.”
Lin Su didn’t respond. He held the skewer tongs, turning the meat over the flames like a seasoned kebab chef. Shi Wenze watched helplessly as the meat got darker and darker. Could he say something to stop it? Absolutely not.
What Shi Wenze didn’t know was that back then, Lin Su had actually been willing to climb the wall and skip class to eat barbecue with him. He hadn’t entirely disdained or looked down on the idea. After a while, Lin Su finally noticed something was wrong. “This looks a bit burnt.” Redefining “a bit.”
Lin Su asked, “Do you think it’s still edible?”
Shi Wenze had firmly replied, “Yes.” He added, “But before eating, I might need to play a round of mahjong.”
Lin Su handed him the skewers and went back to tinkering with the Western cooking station. Faced with this enthusiastic food destroyer, Shi Wenze hesitated between stopping him and letting him be. Watching Lin Su scrape at the burnt bottom of a pan with a spatula, he could already sense trouble brewing. So, he stood guard, and sure enough, within half a minute, the pan flew into the air with one forceful push from the chef.
Fortunately, Shi Wenze had anticipated this and caught the pan swiftly, preventing any collateral damage.
Nearby diners turned to watch, while Lin Su’s ears turned slightly red. He stood there with the spatula for a moment before saying, “Don’t stand there; you’re blocking my light.”
With that, Lin Su managed to shift both the blame and the attention, physically and emotionally.
Shi Wenze took it all in stride, his good-natured demeanor smoothing over the situation. They soon prepared a salmon salad, splitting it evenly as they sat at the counter, their chemistry rivaling that of a young couple sharing a single scoop of ice cream.
Lin Su, who hadn’t gotten a haircut in a while, had tied his slightly damp hair into a small ponytail. The moisture hadn’t entirely dried, leaving his eyelashes looking damp as well.
As they leaned close, Shi Wenze’s gaze drifted downward, landing on Lin Su’s fingers—slender, pale, and partially hidden under the loose sleeves of his robe. Only the tips, holding a fork, peeked out, a soft shade of pink. Shi Wenze suddenly had the urge to take a bite.
The thought startled even him—it felt unreasonably indulgent. Yet the teasing tension between them was undeniably enjoyable. Lin Su, of course, caught onto his intentions. Casually, he adjusted the robe’s collar to reveal more of his well-toned chest, evidence that every gym visit had paid off. Meanwhile, Shi Wenze patiently picked out all the cherry tomatoes from Lin Su’s plate. Lin Su adjusted his angle slightly, presenting his most flattering profile. This playful tug-of-war was executed with such precision that even lumberjacks might have applauded their finesse.
A simple grilled salmon dish had been transformed into an affair as decadent as a Häagen-Dazs sundae, proving that anything shared with the right person could become extraordinary. The only interruption came from a call by Du Siyue, who announced, “I’ve created a small account on Weibo!”
Lin Su put down his fork and remarked, “Shouldn’t you hold a press conference for something this groundbreaking?”
Undeterred by the sarcasm, Du Siyue continued excitedly, “Not only have I been secretly following Jiang Yuhao, but I also spent half an hour analyzing his data and joined twelve fan groups. My plan is to lurk a little longer, and when my followers surpass 1,000, I’ll officially switch to stanning myself!”
The plan’s fluidity and skill were so remarkable that it could have earned Du Siyue the title of “God of Fan Switching” in Japan.
Lin Su asked, “And how many followers do you have now?”
“Three,” Du Siyue admitted.
Lin Su commented, “So you couldn’t even meet the KPI for adding one person to a group?”
“Don’t mention KPIs! Work is driving me insane lately,” Du Siyue lamented. He added with a sigh, “I know three is a pitiful number. I even considered posting some risqué content to attract followers, but I’m scared of getting banned.”
“Should I ask Xiao Lu—” Lin Su started, but the call abruptly broke off.
From his seat, Lin Su noticed commotion in the restaurant corner. “It’s nothing serious,” he said. “Just a fight.”
Two individuals had locked together, rolling on the floor in a rather undignified scuffle. One had partially transformed, growling furiously, attempting to intimidate the other. But a loud punch landed squarely on his face instead.
Onlookers gasped as several robe-clad men moved in to break up the fight. The scene was surprisingly chaotic, with each man boasting broad chests and muscular legs. When the security guards arrived, they couldn’t immediately identify the instigator.
Amid the scuffle, a large sterilization cabinet was knocked over, sending plates crashing down. People scattered to avoid the mess. In the center of the chaos stood a massive yak, its eyes bloodshot. It charged forward, sending several guards flying meters away.
“Call the police!” someone shouted. “What’s the emergency hotline for the Special Incident Department?”
Shi Wenze strode toward the scene while making a call. “Yes, I’m on-site. I’ll handle it,” he said.
The minotaur, all muscle and rage, huffed heavily and turned to leave the spa. But it was blocked at the door.
“Special Incident Department,” Shi Wenze announced, flashing his badge. “Sorry, but you’ll have to come with me.”
The room fell silent. Everyone held their breath. Even Lin Su frowned slightly. The minotaur stared at Shi Wenze’s badge for a moment, then stepped back before suddenly lunging forward. Shi Wenze sidestepped gracefully. The minotaur brushed past his robe and, without missing a beat, flopped onto the floor, legs in the air, completely still. It had deployed the ultimate move against public officials—Feigning injury!
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