Fu Yizhuo settled back into the sofa. “I’m a dancer,” he said. “I can’t just eat whatever I want.”
Zhu Yun nodded.
The image was still too vivid in her mind. She felt as though something were lodged in her throat, and found herself quite unable to speak.
Who could have anticipated that a grown man would, without any warning whatsoever, begin rolling his hips in the middle of a café.
And the more significant issue was that Fu Yizhuo was simply enormous. Li Xun was already tall, but Fu Yizhuo appeared to have a few centimeters on him at least — and where Li Xun was lean, Fu Yizhuo was built, years of training having given him a presence that filled whatever room he occupied. With a figure like that, executing the display he had just executed in front of a roomful of strangers, Zhu Yun genuinely did not know what expression to put on her face.
By the time she came back to herself, she found Fu Yizhuo watching her with an expression of open expectation.
He wants feedback…
Zhu Yun raised her hands and gave a small, polite round of applause. “Very good.”
Fu Yizhuo: “Good how?”
“…”
Zhu Yun glanced at Li Xun. He was reclining in his chair with his coffee, watching proceedings with idle, unhelpful amusement.
She looked back, considered for a moment, and said: “You’re in really good shape. How tall are you?”
“188,” said Fu Yizhuo.
“Stop talking nonsense.” Li Xun’s voice was mild. “188 is me. You’re 194.”
Fu Yizhuo’s expression shifted the instant the number left Li Xun’s mouth — something struck, like a nerve exposed. He drew in a sharp breath. “How many times do I have to tell you,” he said, voice rising with genuine heat, “I am not 194!”
Li Xun made a small, dismissive sound. “You’ve probably added another centimeter or two since then, I’d imagine.”
Fu Yizhuo went red.
Zhu Yun sat to the side, entirely at a loss. From Fu Yizhuo’s reaction it was obvious he was genuinely upset — but about what? She had listened to the exchange and could not locate a single thing that ought to have offended anyone.
Li Xun obligingly explained, unhurried: “He dances Latin. At his height, he can’t find a partner — no one wants to dance with him.” He paused to let that land, and then added with transparent pleasure: “The Latin Giant. Still doing his solo performances, I assume?”
Fu Yizhuo looked as though he wanted to cause harm.
Zhu Yun glanced between the two of them, debating whether to intervene, when Fu Yizhuo’s expression suddenly rearranged itself entirely — the irritation vanished, replaced without transition by his earlier easy warmth.
“Xun. You’re still so funny.”
…This man’s emotional equilibrium is something to behold.
Li Xun said, without particular interest: “Enough small talk. Why are you here?”
“To see you.”
“What for?”
“Guess,” said Fu Yizhuo.
Li Xun stood up. He turned to Zhu Yun. “Let’s go.”
“Xun, don’t be like this.” Fu Yizhuo’s voice stopped him. “It’s the thing I mentioned on the phone. You remember.”
Li Xun answered in three words: “The answer’s no.”
“Think it over.”
“Think it over ten times. Still no.”
“Xun, I’m thinking of you here. I’ve already spoken to my father — all you’d have to do is—”
Li Xun turned to look at him. “Fu Yizhuo. Whatever connection I had with your family ended the day I got you into university. What your father does or doesn’t do is not my concern.”
Fu Yizhuo was quiet.
“Come on.” Li Xun gave Zhu Yun a light tap and turned toward the door.
“Hey — wait for me!” Zhu Yun drained the last of her coffee in several large gulps, set down the cup, and moved to follow — when her wrist was caught. She turned. Fu Yizhuo was already releasing her.
“What is it?”
He shook his head. Said nothing. Zhu Yun gave him a puzzled look and walked out of the café. Li Xun was waiting just outside the door.
“What was that about?” she asked him.
Li Xun bent his head, lit a cigarette. “Nothing.”
“What was he trying to discuss with you? Why did you turn him down?”
Li Xun exhaled. “Not my business.”
“What’s the history between you and his family—”
“That’s over.”
“Then why is he—”
“Come on, back to work.”
“…”
Li Xun rolled out his neck and made to cross the street. He was already on the other side when he registered that something was missing beside him.
He looked back.