Warm Water Burns, Chapter 22
Money burning right before her eyes.
That was what she thought.
“Do you eat food this expensive every day?” Wen Yan couldn’t bear to finish the last piece of abalone. She set it aside and went back to the yellow croaker on the plate to her right, asking Fu Lanzhuo as she ate.
“Is it expensive?”
“…”
Wen Yan didn’t know what to say anymore.
Fu Lanzhuo noticed her expression, realized something, and replied, “Not really. Actually, I’m not a picky eater. As long as it’s not too extreme—like that plate of fish mint yesterday.”
Wen Yan couldn’t help but laugh.
Fu Lanzhuo’s lips curved in response.
After finishing this lavish meal, Fu Lanzhuo drove Wen Yan back to campus. Since she had an elective class on Monday evenings, her roommate group chat began to explode with messages around the same time.
Qiu Xue: [Ah!!! Is what Ruirui said true?! Yan Yan, are you dating Fu Lanzhuo?? You got a boyfriend and didn’t even tell us! Poor_me.jpg @Zhemuw]
Zhong Youyou: [Done eating yet? Fess up.]
Xiao Xinrui: [I told them and they didn’t believe me.]
Qiu Xue: [Oh my god, Yan Yan, what do you even like about Fu Lanzhuo? Don’t you think he’s way too old?]
Zhong Youyou: [Older men are great, okay?]
Xiao Xinrui: [And rich. And handsome.]
Qiu Xue: [Yan Yan, you need to ask him clearly—has Fu Lanzhuo ever been married or anything? That’s really important.]
Zhong Youyou: [+1]
Wen Yan honestly hadn’t thought to ask about that. But Fu Lanzhuo didn’t seem like the type to pursue someone while having a family at home.
Still, they really hadn’t known each other long. This whirlwind romance felt surreal even to her.
After hesitating for a moment, Wen Yan opened her WeChat chat with Fu Lanzhuo and typed: [Gege, have you ever been married?]
Yuanning: [?]
Wen Yan explained: [Don’t be mad, gege. I just wanted to make sure.]
Before she could hit send, Fu Lanzhuo replied: [No. Single all twenty-eight years.]
Zhemuw: [Mm! I believe you.]
She’d asked out of curiosity, but Wen Yan didn’t fully grasp the weight behind “single all twenty-eight years.” After replying, she scrolled through her sticker collection for a while before settling on an adorable cat sticker and sending it over.
Sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, Fu Lanzhuo looked at the sticker Wen Yan had sent twice, then lit a cigar with his lighter.
Cigar between his teeth, he replied to the girl: [Pay attention in class.]
Zhemuw: [Are you still at the university?]
Yuanning: [Mm. Just took a call.]
Zhemuw: [Drive safe on your way back, gege.]
Fu Lanzhuo exhaled a thick plume of smoke and replied okay.
…
Wen Yan shared Fu Lanzhuo’s answer in the group chat. The chat went quiet for a moment. A few seconds later, Qiu Xue typed: [You’re so brave, Yan Yan, asking him straight up!]
Zhong Youyou: [Better to confirm. After all, Fu Lanzhuo’s status is extraordinary. But in the world of CEOs, he’s probably considered quite young. It makes sense that he hasn’t married.]
The class bell rang. The sun had fully set, and one by one, the streetlights across the Yanqing campus flickered on, standing guard in the gathering dusk.
Having finished chatting in the group, Wen Yan put down her phone and took out her books and pencil case from her backpack.
She glanced outside. The black Maybach had just driven away.
The next afternoon, Fu Lanzhuo came to pick her up for dinner again. As he’d mentioned before, this time Wen Yan got to choose the restaurant. She browsed Meituan for a while and settled on a yakiniku place.
Considering Fu Lanzhuo might not enjoy loud, boisterous environments, she deliberately picked a less popular spot with solid reviews—though it was a bit pricey.
It was also located on the food street near Yanqing University.
It was a Japanese-style yakiniku restaurant. The ambiance was nice; although there were no fully private rooms, each dining area was semi-enclosed, separated by waist-high partitions.
Wen Yan had purchased a set meal deal on Meituan—a fairly good-value couple’s combo.
A round charcoal brazier sat in the center of the table, the coals inside already glowing red. The server had just brought out all the dishes from Wen Yan’s set meal, arranging them in a circle around the grill.
This restaurant didn’t offer table service for grilling; customers cooked their own food. Wen Yan planned to take on the grilling duties herself so Fu Lanzhuo could simply sit back and enjoy—after all, she was treating tonight.
But Fu Lanzhuo reached for the tongs first, placing slices of black pepper snowflake beef onto the grill mesh one by one.
Unfortunately, the table only came with one pair of tongs.
Wen Yan said, “Let me grill, gege. You just eat.”
“Why?”
“The flavors are pretty strong. I’m worried you won’t be used to them.”
Six slices of snowflake beef now lay neatly arranged on the silver grill, slowly releasing crimson juices under the intense heat.
Fu Lanzhuo glanced at her, his voice low. “I won’t mind.”
“Grilling your own meat is part of the fun.”
Besides, he wanted to feed her right now.
Since he found it enjoyable, Wen Yan stopped trying to take over. “Alright then.”
Tuesday had been packed with classes, nearly back-to-back. One of them was P.E., and Wen Yan had chosen golf as her sport. The instructor had spent the entire period teaching swing drills, leaving her arm muscles slightly sore. The meat wasn’t done yet, so there was no rush to eat. She lowered her head and began massaging her arm. Fu Lanzhuo noticed. “What’s wrong with your hand?”
“It’s a little sore.”
“Did you injure it?”
“No, I had P.E. today. I chose golf, and we practiced swinging the whole class. It’s nothing serious, just a tiny bit sore,” Wen Yan explained.
“How’s the learning going?” Fu Lanzhuo asked.
“Not bad, I guess.” Wen Yan switched hands to massage the other arm. “But I’ve only had two classes so far, so I haven’t learned much yet.”
University students only had one P.E. class per week. Last week’s session had been mostly theory on golf fundamentals; this week was when they actually started practicing swings.
“When you have time, I’ll practice with you,” Fu Lanzhuo said.
Fu Lanzhuo had mentioned before that he enjoyed sports in his spare time. If golf was among them, he must be quite good. Wen Yan nodded.
The aroma of roasting meat grew richer and richer. On the grill, the once-vivid red snowflake beef had turned a deep, mellow brown, its marbled fat rendering out, trickling down the plump cuts and dripping into the charcoal below. Sizzling sounds crackled through the air. Wen Yan’s gaze drifted to the grill, and she swallowed lightly.
“This piece is ready.” Fu Lanzhuo placed a fully cooked slice of beef into Wen Yan’s bowl.
Beef was technically best at medium-rare, but the meat at casual spots like this was often reconstituted. He wouldn’t feel comfortable serving it unless it was thoroughly cooked.
Wen Yan hummed, dipped the meat in sauce with a sprinkle of chili powder, and popped it into her mouth.
Throughout the entire meal, Fu Lanzhuo handled all the grilling. Wen Yan didn’t have to lift a finger. She ate until her cheeks were flusher than when she’d arrived. Yet Fu Lanzhuo’s grilling didn’t slow down his own eating, and his appetite was considerably larger than hers. The several plates of meat in the set meal weren’t enough for two people, so Fu Lanzhuo ordered three additional plates—two of which were the restaurant’s most expensive item: A5 pure-blood top blade steak.
Eating was blissful, of course. But when it came time to pay, Wen Yan realized her living expenses for the rest of the month would need to be drastically cut. However, when she went to the front counter, the cashier informed her that their table had already been settled.
Wen Yan had actually intended to sneak off and pay early precisely to prevent Fu Lanzhuo from doing so, but he’d still beaten her to it.
She’d calculated the total cost of the meal: 1,226 yuan.
She’d already paid for the set meal online—258 yuan. Fu Lanzhuo had covered the remaining nine hundred-plus.
Back at the table, Wen Yan said, “Why did you go pay? Didn’t I say I was treating?”
Meeting Wen Yan’s dark, wide eyes, Fu Lanzhuo smiled. “How old am I, and how old are you? Do you really think I’d let you treat me? Would I dare take you out to eat ever again if I did?”
Wen Yan wasn’t being polite for the sake of it. She knew he didn’t care about the money, but she genuinely wanted to treat him to a meal.
“Once you graduate and earn your own money, you can treat me then. If you want to keep treating me after that, that’s fine too—but I’ll always be the one picking up the check.”
The word “after” made Wen Yan’s heart flutter. She loved eating with Fu Lanzhuo, and the thought of sharing countless more meals with him in the future filled her with happiness.
It also meant that if he treated today and she treated tomorrow, it truly wasn’t sustainable for her finances—especially since everything Fu Lanzhuo ordered was so expensive…
“Okay,” Wen Yan agreed.
Wen Yan also had an evening class on Tuesday. After finishing the yakiniku, Fu Lanzhuo drove her back to campus.
She’d barely sat down in the lecture hall when she received a transfer notification from Fu Lanzhuo.
Twenty thousand yuan.
Wen Yan froze. She messaged him: [Did you transfer to the wrong person?]
Yuanning: [No.]
Zhemuw: [Then why are you sending me so much money?]
Yuanning: [If there’s anything you want to buy at school, don’t hold back.]
Zhemuw: [But my family sends me living expenses every month.]
Yuanning: [How much do they give you monthly?]
[Two thousand two hundred.] Wen Yan typed the number, then deleted it. She figured Fu Lanzhuo would definitely think it was too little—not even enough to cover one dish at his usual restaurants. But to Wen Yan, it was quite comfortable.
[Quite a lot.] she replied instead.
Yuanning: [How much is “quite a lot”?]
He was determined to get to the bottom of this. Wen Yan had no choice but to answer: [A little over two thousand.]
Silence lingered on his end for a while.
Yuanning: [That’s too little.]
Yuanning: [From now on, I’ll cover part of your monthly living expenses too.]
Yuanning: [This isn’t a large amount. Accept it first.]
Seeing how insistent he was, Wen Yan thought for a moment and replied: [How about this, gege—if I ever run short, I’ll let you know, okay? This is too much money. Taking it makes me feel pressured.]
Silence fell on his end once more. No reply came for a long time.