This New Year was particularly special for Chu Lai. Activities that used to seem meaningless to him now felt fitting for the celebratory theme.

However, he didn’t expect that the Cen family had a surprise up their sleeves. When Chu Lai was pushed towards the mahjong table, he resisted, “I really don’t know how to play.”

Cen Jianxun had already donned his battle gear, with a mysterious cape draped over his shoulders, bearing the two characters for “Mahjong God.”

Even though Chu Lai had read his fair share of over-the-top manga during his teenage years, he couldn’t help but twitch the corners of his mouth at the sight.

Cen Jianxun confidently said, “Don’t worry, Lai Lai, you’re so smart, you can learn as you go.”

The wealthy Cen family seemed to have a preference for the traditional way of playing mahjong, but the tiles appeared to be made from various exquisite materials, translucent and high-quality.

“You’re only trying to bully Lai Lai because you lost to him in chess earlier, aren’t you?”

Grandma Hong, who seemed quite experienced, introduced herself to Chu Lai, “I was the third-place winner in the Mahjong Championships back in the day.”

Chu Lai’s mind was struggling to keep up as he glanced at Cen Wei, who was standing by the side watching the game. The Spring Festival Gala was playing on TV, but Grandpa the butler wasn’t around.

There were only a few of them left in the Cen household, but it didn’t feel lonely at all.

Cen Wei was wearing a sweater identical to Chu Lai’s. His bangs slightly covered his brows, and there was no sign of the seriousness he carried at work; instead, he looked relaxed. Smiling, he said, “Back then, the neighborhood used to host events like this.”

Grandma Hong chimed in, “It’s a part of our culture, and a great way to prevent dementia. If all my friends hadn’t passed away already, I would’ve introduced them to Lai Lai too. Back then, we were the Four Blossoms…”

Grandpa seemed to recall those days too, his expression turning a bit peculiar.

Chu Lai truly had no idea how to play and was about to pull out his phone to look up a tutorial when Cen Wei, holding a mug of tea while everyone else had alcohol, said from behind him, “I’ll teach you.”

“How about you just play instead?”

Chu Lai still didn’t know what he was doing, so he looked expectantly at Cen Wei.

Grandma Hong quickly objected, “That won’t do. Ah Wei always wins, there’s no suspense playing with him.”

The elderly man with white hair grumbled, “Youngsters these days don’t respect the elderly. So competitive, no wonder you’re marrying late!”

Cen Wei was at a loss for words, thinking to himself, Who was it that practically forced me to marry with threats?

They had eaten dinner early that night, and except for Cen Wei, everyone had had a bit of alcohol, supposedly to get into the festive mood for their annual tradition.

Xuan Rongqing joked, “It’s all thanks to Mom’s early teachings.”

Grandma Hong proudly declared, “That counts as early education, right? I think it worked well—look how smart Ah Wei turned out.”

Chu Lai asked Cen Wei, “Do you play this every year?”

Cen Wei nodded, and from the side, Cen Jianxun added, “Good thing Lai Lai is here this year. From now on, we won’t need that killjoy kid anymore.”

The target of this remark didn’t say anything, just placed his hand on Chu Lai’s shoulder, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”

Chu Lai’s previous life had been rather monotonous; even going to bars was a rare occurrence. In Liu Yuan’s eyes, Chu Lai, despite his young age, had already turned into a retiree.

But even retirees occasionally join square dancing groups, and Chu Lai, no matter how you looked at him, seemed like the type to stay home with white hair.

In the first round, Chu Lai had no clue what he was doing and regretted never having tried playing mahjong in online game halls before.

Since Cen Wei couldn’t take the seat himself, he stood to the side, offering suggestions—perfectly illustrating the phrase “I’m right here by your side.” At first, it was essentially Cen Wei playing, with Chu Lai merely acting as a tool for playing the tiles.

By the second round, Chu Lai had a vague understanding. Though he lost, he was beginning to get the hang of it.

Cen Wei, sitting beside him, originally wanted to continue coaching from the sidelines, but Xuan Rongqing hit him with a hawthorn snack stick, saying, “No speaking while observing the tiles.”

Chu Lai glanced over at him, and the man winked back.

Cen Jianxun huffed, “Flirting, huh!”

Grandma Hong pushed up her reading glasses, sighing, “Ah, to be young…”

“After the New Year, we’re all heading abroad. I’ll accompany Grandpa to the hospital, and you guys can go have fun. See the seagulls, ride a hot air balloon, or something.”

Chu Lai was playing the game quietly, focused on his thoughts. Cen Wei, on the other hand, chatted, “But first, we need to check in on Grandpa at the hospital.”

“There probably aren’t any hot air balloons there, are there?”

“Bamboo.”

“Ten thousand.”

“No cheating!”

“I didn’t cheat!”

“Don’t throw random tiles!”

The two elderly players even started arguing. Chu Lai remained deep in thought, while Xuan Rongqing told Cen Wei, “When you’re out there, just enjoy yourself and don’t think about work.”

Cen Wei nodded, a little helpless, “Do I really seem like someone who would give up a wife for work?”

Meanwhile, “the wife” couldn’t help but look up more mahjong tutorials. Though he appeared calm and detached, his competitiveness was as fierce as ever—just like when they were in bed.

Chu Lai was completely different from when they first met.

To Cen Wei, Chu Lai was like an iceberg, the visible peak towering and pure, while the unseen depths beneath the surface were what truly captivated.

Xuan Rongqing glanced over at Chu Lai, who was absentmindedly twirling a mahjong tile in his fingers, “Isn’t that right, Lai Lai?”

“Huh?” Chu Lai asked, confused, as he hadn’t been paying attention.

Cen Wei teased, “Mom said I’m the kind of person who would give up a wife for work.”

Chu Lai half-heartedly replied with an “Mm-hmm.”

Xuan Rongqing burst into laughter, “See? Even Lai Lai agrees.”

Cen Wei was feeling quite wronged, but the truth was that Chu Lai hadn’t even heard what they were saying. When he focused too much, he seemed to block out the world around him.

Sometimes, when they got really intense, it would be the same. It gave Cen Wei the feeling that no matter how he handled Chu Lai, everything would be fine—as long as he held him close, everything could be healed.

Chu Lai was so well-behaved, so lovable, it left people wondering whether to cradle him in their arms or hold him gently in their hearts.

Chu Lai had never worked this hard, muttering the rules to himself as he tried to apply them in practice.

The time spent playing mahjong flew by, and with Cen Wei constantly bringing him tea, the fun never stopped. Cen Jianxun, who was still a patient, had to leave reluctantly when things got too exciting.

Grandma Hong wanted to watch a short video, and Xuan Rongqing had to send New Year’s greetings to friends, so the game finally came to an end.

On the second day of the New Year, Grandpa and Grandma, along with Xuan Rongqing, flew abroad. On the third day of the new year, Chu Lai had a class reunion, and after that, they were heading out together, meaning Chu Lai and Cen Wei would be spending two days alone.

As the mahjong set was packed away, Chu Lai’s mind was still filled with thoughts like “10 Things You Must Know About Mahjong” and “To Become a Mahjong God, Follow These Steps…”

He seemed distracted, and when Cen Wei brought him a glass of water, he leaned in to sniff the scent of alcohol lingering on Chu Lai. “Still not back to your senses?”

Chu Lai replied, “I’m back now.”

Their sweaters were the same, but Chu Lai had to wear a larger size. The sleeves were so long that his hands were almost completely covered, leaving only his fingertips visible as he held the cup.

“Did you have fun?” Cen Wei asked again.

Chu Lai nodded, “Yeah, it was fun.”

However, his eyes were still wandering, his focus not entirely on their conversation. Finding this amusing, Cen Wei cupped Chu Lai’s face in his hands.

Downstairs, only the two of them remained. The kitchen lights were off, and the chandelier in the living room was also turned off, leaving just a staircase light on.

The TV was still on, and the countdown to the New Year hadn’t even started yet. Both of their phones were tossed on the sofa, with neither of them paying any attention to the important task of sending out New Year’s greetings.

Finally, Chu Lai came back to his senses and met Cen Wei’s gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Taking off Chu Lai’s glasses and hooking them onto his sweater collar, Cen Wei pressed his forehead against Chu Lai’s, saying, “You’ve been ignoring me all night.”

Chu Lai chuckled, “What are you, a child?”

For someone this grown, to still be this clingy was a bit…

But then again, the strong need for affection that Cen Wei displayed made Chu Lai’s heart soften. He hugged the man, and the next second, he was picked up off the ground.

“My phone,” Chu Lai reminded.

Cen Wei was surprisingly strong. Chu Lai had once seen him doing push-ups in the room when he glanced over from his gaming session. The sight of the man’s back muscles was striking, and after trying it out, Chu Lai was quite pleased with the results.

He had originally wanted to remind Cen Wei to put on some clothes but thought that since they were married, it didn’t really matter. In fact, if he reminded him, he might even get dragged into something.

But his gaze must have lingered, because Cen Wei, quick to catch on, extended an invitation for Chu Lai to join him.

Later on, it became a regular thing—this outwardly cool, elite man in private proudly showing off his strength like some foolhardy high school boy, always insisting that Chu Lai sit on his back.

Eventually, Chu Lai’s streaming career hit a bump, waking up in the middle of the night after a session left unfinished, his whole body aching. It turned out he didn’t even need to go to the gym anymore; all his stretching routines were covered by their extracurricular activities.

Now, Cen Wei grabbed the phone and carried him upstairs.

On New Year’s Eve, their phones were flooded with messages. Chu Lai wasn’t one for mass texting and didn’t have as many business contacts as Cen Wei. At most, he would send a courtesy red envelope to Liu Yuan.

He opened his social media and sent out a post as the streamer @Laic. This had become a routine for Chu Lai.

His social circle was simple, and many of his fans didn’t know what he looked like, yet still liked him, which made Chu Lai quite happy.

Neither of them felt sleepy, even as they lay in bed. Chu Lai nestled into Cen Wei’s arms, and meanwhile, Cen Wei’s phone continued buzzing.

Jiang Liyong asked what their New Year plans were and if they’d meet up. Cen Wei explained that they were going abroad and added, “I’m also taking my wife to a class reunion.”

Both of them were in the same group chat, and Jiang Liyong, recalling Cen Wei’s introduction, went silent.

Even Cen Wei had his gossiping moments, asking about Jiang Liyong’s love life, but Jiang wasn’t willing to share much. Eventually, Cen Wei got tired of asking, and instead, sent a red envelope to Chu Lai, carefully filling the transfer amount with a neat sequence of numbers.

Back in school, Cen Wei never cared much for things like 5201314 (I love you forever) and found such homophonic numbers childish.

But now, lying in bed next to the person he loved at thirty years old, all those “childish” things seemed to come rushing back. He wished he could fill the transfer amount with all his feelings.

Yet, there was a limit to how much one could transfer.

The grand CEO of a leading umbrella company found himself on New Year’s Eve, unable to send any more because he had exceeded the limit.

Chu Lai, lying in his arms, watched the constant flow of notifications and rolled over on top of him. Noticing the frown on his face, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t send too much in a red envelope,” Cen Wei replied.

“Oh,” Chu Lai responded, “I can’t receive any more either.”

“Why not?”

“My mom just sent me a huge amount, so I’ve hit my account limit.”

He sighed a little, “Liu Yuan just scolded me for not accepting earlier.”

“There’s a time limit on these,” Chu Lai muttered as he rolled back over onto the soft pillow, propping it up at one corner. That’s when he noticed a red envelope on the nightstand.

It wasn’t one of those fancy gold-foiled ones that were popular nowadays, just a simple red paper envelope with the character for “Fortune” written in calligraphy.

To be honest, it was a bit ugly, as it had been stuffed too full and was now shaped more like a square, looking like those paper envelopes kids used to make for playing games.

“When did this get here?” Chu Lai asked, surprised, as he picked it up.

On the other side of the bed, Cen Wei found a matching one. The calligraphy on his envelope was much nicer, with the character for “Good.”

“Grandma’s handwriting is definitely better.”

The same character for fortune written by Cen Jianxun looked like squiggling worms, likely due to his long illness affecting his control.

“Is this a family tradition of yours?” Chu Lai asked.

Just then, he caught sight of the wobbly table lamp and discovered another envelope underneath.

Even Cen Wei was speechless, chuckling, “Grandpa and Grandma are playing games again.”

Seemingly struck by a thought, Cen Wei asked, “In all these years, have you ever received a red envelope?”

Chu Lai nodded, “My mom still sends them to me, but through WeChat.”

Pulling the blanket closer to Chu Lai’s side, they accidentally knocked a pillow off the bed. When they went to pick it up, three or four more red envelopes fell out of the cup.

All of them were made from red paper with neat square writing done in calligraphy.

Each had a different character, some reading “Year,” others “White,” and another “Lai.”

“Is Grandpa and Grandma trying to make us piece together a puzzle or something?” Chu Lai asked with a laugh, finding it rather amusing as he looked at Cen Wei, “Is this another one of your family traditions?”

Shaking his head, Cen Wei replied, “I used to only get one of these. I guess since you came, they’ve doubled.”

He chuckled, “Looks like my status in the family is at risk.”

Midnight passed, and the city fireworks lit up the sky. In their room, the two of them rummaged through drawers and cabinets, hunting for red envelopes. Over an hour later, they finally managed to piece together the full message.

[Lai Lai, we’re so happy you’ve become a part of our family.]

[You told Grandma before that you didn’t really like celebrating the New Year, but that’s okay. You’re 26 now, so we’re making up for all the red envelopes you missed over the years.]

[You’re a good kid, and Ah Wei is too. We hope you both grow old together.]

Chu Lai was silent for a long time before he turned to look at Cen Wei. “There are more than 26, right?”

Nodding, Cen Wei said, “They really put in the effort to make up the numbers. Forgive them, okay?”

He added with a smile, “Some of these are probably meant for me too.”

Chu Lai sniffled. The bills in the envelopes were all crisp and new, and Chu Lai sat cross-legged on the sofa, spreading out the red papers, their bright color nearly hurting his eyes.

He didn’t really want to cry, but he couldn’t hold it back. The man beside him held him close, “Geez, first day of the New Year and you’re already crying.”

Bit by bit, Cen Wei kissed away the tears on his face. Chu Lai clung to his neck, his voice breaking as he finally said, “Thank you.”

Cen Wei whispered, “I should be the one thanking you. You gave me this chance.”

Chu Lai leaned in to kiss him, and the response was soft and tender.

He grabbed hold of Cen Wei’s hand, pressing it against his chest where his heart was thudding. In the dim light, the young man, his eyes still watery, looked up at the person before him and said, “Cen Wei, you’re with me now.”

Starting from where his hand was pressed against Chu Lai’s chest, Cen Wei trailed kisses downward, his voice low as he asked, “Can we go deeper this time?”

Chu Lai hummed in agreement, “I don’t want to lie down.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t see you.”

“Aren’t I right here?”

His fingers lightly tapped on Chu Lai’s chest, only to have them grabbed. Chu Lai grumbled, “It’s harder to kiss that way.”

Cen Wei replied, “You’re just too lazy to turn your head.”

Chu Lai didn’t deny it, “Well, I want to hold onto you.”

“Alright,” Cen Wei agreed.