Chapter 51 – A Hug

Still, Lu Hui was genuinely curious—how did Cen Yueze know when her birthday was? She hadn’t posted it on her Moments or shouted it from the rooftops.

Cen Yueze, legs crossed and lounging on the couch, didn’t feel like typing or doing voice messages anymore. So he simply called.

Lu Hui accidentally accepted the voice call. Cen Yueze’s voice still sounded half-asleep. “Don’t act all high and mighty. I’m a busy man, okay?”

It was late, and Lu Hui had nothing better to do, so she humored him. “I’m a third-tier internet celeb now—my schedule is full.”

Cen Yueze chuckled lazily, “Look at you, giving yourself a lot of credit.”

He’d been dead tired earlier but was now wide awake. “Confident. I like that.”

He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. After waking up from a nap, he got bored and went online, randomly browsing Weibo. On a whim, he clicked into her barely-active fan page and saw her fans all wishing her a happy birthday. Something compelled him to immediately message her on WeChat.

Cen Yueze figured they were at least familiar enough to be friends now, so reluctantly throwing her a birthday greeting didn’t seem too out of line. With that thought, he asked with smug confidence, “So? What do you want for your birthday?”

Lu Hui was totally willing to be a gold-digger. She was seriously considering how to make a huge ask when Cen Yueze added, “Obviously, not me.”

Lu Hui replied, “You’re overthinking it.”

Cen Yueze, in a good mood, grinned involuntarily. “Well, I had to guard against your overwhelming love for me.”

Lu Hui retorted seriously, “What kind of feelings could I possibly have for one of the monsters from Journey to the West?”

“…Alright then.” Cen Yueze shifted positions. “Just tell me—what do you want?”

Lu Hui didn’t have high material demands and couldn’t immediately think of anything good to extort, so she said, “Why don’t you just transfer money to me on WeChat? Send 9999 yuan—may our friendship last forever.”

Cen Yueze laughed, “How much?”

Lu Hui: “9999.”

Cen Yueze smirked, “You’ve got quite the imagination.”

Lu Hui felt mocked and snapped, “Then why’d you ask in the first place?!”

Cen Yueze generously offered, “I’ll send you 99.”

Lu Hui hadn’t expected him to be this stingy. “No need!”

Cen Yueze feigned disappointment. “But 99 is great—it means you’ll live to ninety-nine.”

Lu Hui scoffed, “I never planned to live that long anyway.”

“Alright, I’ve already sent the red envelope,” Cen Yueze said shamelessly. “Remember, you owe me a meal.”

Lu Hui: “Eat my ass.”

She hung up, unwilling to waste another second on him.

Cen Yueze still wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to keep chatting. Humming a children’s song, he lightly swiped his screen and dialed her again.

Lu Hui hit reject.

Cen Yueze was on a mission. He kept calling. Over and over.

Lu Hui wasn’t even annoyed. She just kept rejecting him, one by one.

They started an all-out battle on WeChat.

Cen Yueze was so mad he started laughing, finally stopping his call spree and switching tactics:
[Just accept the red envelope already.]

Lu Hui returned to the chat: [I have no respect for your 99.]

Cen Yueze: [Open it. It’s not just 99.]

Lu Hui typed quickly: [Max is 200. Not even curious enough to click.]

Cen Yueze: [Didn’t expect you to be this materialistic.]

Lu Hui boldly admitted: [Huihui and money-money forever.]

Cen Yueze wasn’t short on cash. He glanced at his WeChat wallet, and after a dramatic “Just you wait,” he went crazy sending her red envelopes.

The “ding,” “ding,” “ding” sounds went on for nearly half an hour. Lu Hui’s phone almost exploded from the flood of red envelopes.

She scrolled back through the chat until her fingers were sore. There were at least 200 red envelopes—so many her eyes hurt just looking at them.

Cen Yueze: [If you have any dignity, don’t click.]

Would you like help adapting this into a more casual or humorous format for a specific platform or character voice?

Lu Hui: [??]

Lu Hui: [I have no pride.]

Her hands were sore from accepting red envelopes. After opening them all, her WeChat wallet had grown by 80,000 yuan.

The spoils were generous—it had been a very profitable conversation tonight.

She sent Cen Yueze a message: [Feel free to come chat with me anytime.]

Cen Yueze had let his guard down and fallen into a trap, tricked by Lu Hui into handing over a small fortune. He didn’t reply.

Lu Hui, pleased with her windfall, put down her phone and went to bed satisfied. The next morning, she woke up on the dot at 8:30, threw on a white puffer jacket, and headed downstairs for breakfast.

She pulled her hat low and zipped up to the top—only her black, darting eyes were left visible.

Just near the hotel was a small breakfast shop, steam visibly rising even from a distance.

It was several degrees below zero outside, and the wind was bitterly strong, making her eyes sting.

Lu Hui tucked her hands into her pockets and walked clumsily—afraid of slipping on the icy road, she shuffled like a little penguin. She pushed open the glass door, found an empty table, and ordered a light bowl of mini wontons.

The sound of the glass door opening and closing came again behind her. Cold wind snuck in with it. A man entered wearing only a thin sweater. His ears were red from the cold, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night, barely able to stay open. Without hesitation, he sat down next to her. “Morning.”

Cen Yueze looked drowsy, lazily leaning on the table. He tapped it lightly with his finger. “I’m hungry. Order something for me too.”

Lu Hui nodded. “Alright.” Then asked, “When did you get here?”

Cen Yueze fibbed casually. “I caught a red-eye flight last night—came all this way to send you my blessings. No need to be too touched.”

Lu Hui looked skeptical. “Really?”

Cen Yueze curled his lips into a lazy, wicked grin. “Of course not.”

Lu Hui: “…”

Cen Yueze was both sleepy and starving. He brazenly leaned over and rested his head on her shoulder, eyes half-closed. “Wake me when it’s ready.”

Lu Hui slumped her shoulder, exasperated. “Can you not lean on me?”

“Nope,” he replied, eyes still shut. “Just enjoy the moment. It’s a win for you.”

Lu Hui had no interest in this so-called win. She stiffened up but didn’t bother arguing with him.

The boss soon brought over two bowls of wontons. Lu Hui poked his arm to wake him, surprised by the solid muscle underneath. He looked lean and refined, but he actually had some meat on him.

“It’s ready.”

Cen Yueze slowly opened his eyes. Though they were open, his brain still seemed foggy—he looked thoroughly sleep-deprived.

Lu Hui sipped her soup and asked, “Did you go haunt people last night?”

Naturally, Cen Yueze couldn’t admit that he’d binge-watched her drama all night, pulled an all-nighter, and then came out to find food before crashing.

“I went to do human things.”

“Oh.”

His bowl of wontons had chili in it. He wasn’t great with spice—one bite and he put his chopsticks down, eyes drifting toward her bowl.

Lu Hui noticed and gave him a sidelong glance. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Let’s switch bowls,” Cen Yueze said.

“I already ate from mine!” she emphasized.

“I don’t mind,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Lu Hui almost choked on her soup. “Well, I mind!”

Cen Yueze hummed. “If I’m willing to eat from your bowl, you should just feel honored. I won’t make fun of you.”

“Can you not be so narcissistic?”

“See? I hit a nerve,” he said, staring at her animated little face with growing amusement. His tone turned teasing. “Cen Bao’er told me you made him call you ‘auntie’ in private. When you couldn’t win me over, you tried sucking up to my nephew. Clever tactic.”

Lu Hui really wanted to smack him. “I never made him say that. Spreading false rumors can get you charged, you know.”

“Oh,” he replied dismissively.

In the end, Cen Yueze managed to eat half the bowl, sweating from the spice. He gulped down half a bottle of water to wash away the burn.

Lu Hui paid the bill before he could.

They stepped outside. It somehow felt even colder than earlier. The wind was like knives on her face—sharp and painful.

Cen Yueze reached out and flipped up the hood of her puffer jacket—then mischievously pushed it back down to cover her eyes.

Lu Hui cursed him. “Are you insane?”

Cen Yueze played innocent. “It’s windy. I’m worried you’ll blow away.”

“Oh, thank you ever so much!”

“Don’t mention it. Just doing my part,” he said, stealing glances at her face. Then he asked offhandedly, “So when are you treating me to that meal I bought for 80,000 yuan?”

Lu Hui stopped. “Didn’t you just eat?”

Cen Yueze froze. “What did you say?”

She looked perfectly serious. “Or did that bowl of wontons go into a dog’s stomach?”

Cen Yueze took a deep breath to keep calm. Hands in his pockets, he said, “Even beggars don’t get sent off with a ten-yuan bowl of mini wontons.”

Lu Hui sighed and blinked innocently at his intense gaze. “Beggars are easier to satisfy than you. Don’t insult beggars.”

Cen Yueze stared down at her chubby little face, itching to pinch it. The longer he looked, the harder it was to resist. When she let her guard down, he reached out and pinched her cheek. “Not bad.”

“You’re seriously messed up.” Lu Hui wasn’t hurt, but the way he suddenly bent down to do that almost scared her to death.

His irritation from earlier vanished. “So soft. It’s cute.”

Lu Hui’s cheeks flushed. “Next time, you have to pay.”

“Money, money, money. Have you fallen into a pile of cash?”

“Yes.”

“Then you should have brought it back.”

“?” Lu Hui said, “I’m afraid my hand will rot.”

Cen Yueze raised his eyebrows and smiled casually, “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”

He opened his arms. “Come on, touch as much as you want. When you have a dream, you have to chase it.”

“…”

Lu Hui stood still, and Cen Yueze suddenly stretched out his long arm, pulling her into his embrace. The distance between them was so close, and then he said, “Happy birthday to you, and may you be happy every day.”

He had a special scent, a fresh cold fragrance that lingered in the air. The tone was aloof, but his embrace was strong. Lu Hui froze for a few seconds, momentarily forgetting to push him away.