After Losing My Memory, I Became Sweet - Chapter 24

After Lu Xunyi left, Zhu Yun brought the safe into the study.

He carefully lifted the raw gemstone out of the safe.

To the untrained eye, it looked like an ordinary stone, but under specific temperatures and lighting, it revealed a completely different form and luster.

Zhu Yun immediately recognized its unique qualities. That was why he spent several days negotiating with the stubborn villagers, and even had Lu Xunyi venture deep into the small fishing village, all to ensure that the villagers willingly handed over the stone before discovering its true value.

As a gemstone designer, Zhu Yun always had a natural instinct to identify raw gems, and he also possessed the sharp instincts of a businessman.

He placed the raw gemstone under the warm glow of the desk lamp, turning it over and inspecting it carefully until his eyes ached. Then, he returned it to the safe and locked it away.

He knew that the process of “communicating” with the gemstone could inspire many ideas. If he had taken out a pen to start drawing, he might have gained a lot of inspiration. But now, he couldn’t devote himself fully, and therefore didn’t want to start hastily.

Qin Huaichu would likely return to Mingshi tomorrow, and Zhu Yun’s thoughts inevitably had to focus on one thing.

As Qin Huaichu’s return approached, it was as if Zhu Yun’s phone had just been recharged—it sent him the first message in five days.

And it was a photo.

A newly released perfume from a certain brand, recently causing a sensation online. Its price made many wealthy people gasp.

Some wealthy young women even traveled abroad just to queue for hours at the counter to buy it, then casually discussed its scent on vlogs, flaunting their lifestyle and inadvertently fueling envy among viewers who couldn’t experience it themselves.

Qin Huaichu’s photo, however, was taken from a “straight man’s perspective”—it lacked any aesthetic touch, highlighting only the logo. Online, it would probably be criticized as showing off wealth.

Zhu Yun opened the photo, glanced at it, and closed it, typing with a surprised tone:
“-Brother, did you really buy me this perfume?”

Qin Huaichu replied quickly this time:
“-I told you, I never lie to you.”

Zhu Yun’s eyes showed no trace of a smile, but he sent back a shy, blushing smile and said:
“-Thank you, brother.”

After chatting casually for a while, Zhu Yun asked casually:
“-Brother, when will you roughly be back?”

After a few seconds, Qin Huaichu sent a photo of his flight ticket and itinerary.

Zhu Yun quietly noted the flight time. When Qin Huaichu said he had to go busy, Zhu Yun logged out of his main account and switched to his secondary account.

The moment he did, the secondary account erupted with notifications, as if some device were wired to his phone—anytime he logged on, his childhood friends would immediately receive a signal.

In reality, Chen Leyu and the others were just talkative and loved to mention Zhu Yun’s name constantly.

Zhu Yun ignored the countless @ mentions and typed into the chat:
“-Tomorrow I want to go to Mingtong Middle School to play basketball. Anyone coming?”

He usually had fixed partners, but ever since Song Xiang fell ill after their last game, he hadn’t shown up again. Even if he returned to work, he likely wouldn’t step onto the court.

Zhu Yun wanted other people to join, and the first group he thought of was this circle of advisors.

Even though his message quickly got buried in the chatter, the moment Chen Leyu noticed, the rest followed suit, and a lively flurry of greetings poured in.

They responded in typical group-chat style:

• “Great! I’ve been wanting to wear my Jordan signed jersey!”

• “Me too, finally my diamond-studded basketball has a chance to shine!”

• “Wait, you forgot my limited edition shoes? Only five in the world, and I got one!”

• “Why Mingtong? Isn’t my uncle’s ten-thousand-person stadium better?”

…

Zhu Yun stared at the screen, then @ mentioned the person suggesting the stadium:
“-No need for the big stadium. Can we have somewhere more low-key?”

He always went to Mingtong Middle School for basketball, and since it was winter break, he didn’t want to trouble the janitor. Also, it would be a bit far for Qin Huaichu to drive there.

Shi Jiaze, who owned the large stadium, immediately replied:
“-Of course. How big a court do you want? I can arrange it.”

Finally, Zhu Yun chose an indoor basketball court in a downtown building.

This building was very close to the QZ Group, so close that from the court’s window, one could see the QZ building’s rooftop billboard.

A group of idle rich kids, with plenty of free time, responded—eight in total, perfect for a 4v4 game with one left as referee.

Chen Leyu, being Zhu Yun’s best friend, naturally signed up, while Wu Sufei, who knew Zhu Yun well, declined.

“I caught a bit of a cold at the club a few days ago. You guys go ahead and have fun, Yun’er!” Wu Sufei gave a strange excuse.

The others didn’t catch why Wu Sufei specifically wished Zhu Yun a good time alone.

The next day, the group arrived at the indoor court.

They didn’t look like they were there to seriously play—dressed flashily with an array of designer accessories.

Zhu Yun warmed up briefly outside the court, satisfied with the clean, spacious space.

He took out his phone—his main WeChat account was back online—and messaged Song Xiang:
“-I’m playing here today. Will you come?”

He included his location.

Song Xiang, still recuperating at home, replied immediately:
“-Yun, I probably can’t come out today. Please be careful not to overexert yourself like I did.”

Zhu Yun responded with a simple “mm” and set his phone to silent, putting it in his bag.

He expected Song Xiang to report his location to Qin Huaichu word for word.

Before the game started, the group pretended to warm up.

Zhu Yun was the leanest among them, casually standing rather than actively stretching.

The rich kids didn’t quite understand why he chose this time—they assumed basketball was just an appetizer, expecting more exciting activities later.

After all, Zhu Yun rarely organized games personally.

Chen Leyu finally spoke after watching him for a while:
“Yun, you’re not pretending to have amnesia today? And you seem so enthusiastic to play?”

Then he caught himself and asked quietly:
“Do you only need to act forgetful in front of Qin Huaichu?”

“Exactly,” Zhu Yun replied lightly.

“Got it,” Chen Leyu slapped his thigh. “No problem. I don’t interact with Qin much, so no risk of revealing anything.”

Zhu Yun didn’t speak, only slightly lifted his eyebrows as if smiling.

“You’re in such a good mood today. Will the game be fun?” Chen Leyu asked cautiously.

Zhu Yun simply responded with a nod.

Chen Leyu immediately put on a grimace.

This was bad…

Playing basketball with Zhu Yun, whether he was in a good or bad mood, meant trouble.

Chen Leyu had grown up with Zhu Yun and was his best assist, so he knew exactly how ruthless Zhu Yun could be on the court.

Unfortunately, the rich kids here were not athletic—they could party all night but would collapse after half an hour of basketball.

They didn’t realize that a half-hour friendly game was just the beginning. Zhu Yun played one match after another, yet was still unsatisfied.

“Yun’er—no, Yun-ge, aren’t you tired? Don’t you want a break? There’s a good massage place in this building. We could stop and go there,” Rich Kid A hoarsely shouted.

“After massage, I’ll take everyone for high-end sushi at Xintai Plaza. What do you say?” Rich Kid B yelled.

Others begged similarly, trying to win Zhu Yun’s sympathy with their exhaustion.

Only Chen Leyu watched with sympathy from the court.

“When you guys rushed to sign up, I thought you’d changed—why so eager for basketball?” Chen Leyu teased.

“You didn’t tell me it would just be basketball!” Rich Kid A complained.

“When has Yun ever organized a game just for show? If he says basketball, it’s real basketball,” Chen Leyu replied.

Rich Kid A: “….”

Miscalculation, and irreversible.

The game continued, and nobody knew how long.

On the floor, the rich kids were sprawled like fallen dominoes.

Zhu Yun’s sportswear was soaked through. He rarely sweated, but to enjoy basketball fully, he had to play until drenched.

Previously, he had restrained himself with Song Xiang, but now, even with sweat dripping from his hair, his breathing was steady.

Only Chen Leyu remained standing beside Zhu Yun, gasping for air and clutching his knees.

“How long will this go on? I’m starving,” Shi Jiaze groaned on the floor, “Why does this court close so late? If I knew, I wouldn’t have booked it…”

Chen Leyu handed Zhu Yun a bottle of water. By now, the eight had finished two boxes, and empty bottles lined the edge like neatly spaced dominoes, tempting someone to knock them down.

“Yun, are you waiting for someone?” Chen Leyu noticed Zhu Yun glancing at the wall clock after finishing the water.

“No,” Zhu Yun said, finishing the bottle, placing it on the floor, and calmly asking:
“Shall we continue?”

…

When Qin Huaichu entered the indoor court, it was silent, unlike a normally operating facility.

The doorman, however, said:
“You must be with those guests inside, right? Come in, they’ve been playing all day.”

Qin Huaichu didn’t know why the doorman assumed he knew them.

He hadn’t seen Zhu Yun at home, and messages and calls went unanswered. After finding out his location from Song Xiang, he came immediately.

Even after flying overnight and feeling exhausted, he wanted to see Zhu Yun as soon as possible.

It was as if seeing Zhu Yun could make him forget all fatigue.

The sound of his shoes echoed clearly on the wooden floor.

The rich kids were sprawled on the court, including Chen Leyu, who had collapsed.

Originally, they had watched Zhu Yun stand unyielding, but hearing Qin Huaichu’s footsteps, Zhu Yun’s legs finally bent.

He squatted, pale as paper, and looked back at Qin Huaichu with slight surprise:
“Brother, when did you come back? How did you find this place?”

Qin Huaichu, in a tailored suit, squatted beside him, somewhat out of place.

“I didn’t see you at home,” Qin Huaichu explained simply, reaching out his hand. “Why are you sweating so much? Not playing anymore? I’ll help you up.”

Zhu Yun obediently extended his hand, not for support, but softly pleading:
“Brother, my legs are sore. Can you carry me back?”

The rich kids gawked as Zhu Yun, who had single-handedly knocked down seven, climbed onto Qin Huaichu’s back, looking delicate and fragile.