That Man Is a Little Wild - Chapter 10

The next morning, Li Cang still felt dizzy at work.

He was an interior designer and had taken three days off. A client’s layout was still unfinished, and his colleague Xu Siran came by to check on him. Seeing Li Cang still reeking of a hangover, Xu Siran nearly dragged him to the sink to sober up.

“That Goose client’s being a pain. You deal with it,” Xu said later that afternoon.

Li Cang had just recovered from his post-drinking fog and submitted his pending design when Xu suddenly appeared behind him again. “I sent the details to your email,” she said dryly. “Don’t pretend you didn’t see it.”

“Damn it, Xu Siran! Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?” Li Cang groaned. “Can’t I get a break?”

“You’ve been on break for three days already. What are you, a young master? Want to swap jobs while we’re at it?” she snapped.

That shut him up fast. “Alright, alright. I’ll look at it now.”

He poured himself a cup of coffee, sat down, and opened his inbox.

Skipping over the client’s bio, he went straight to the list of preferences and requirements. After reading through them, he spent the entire afternoon refining a layout and sent it off for review.

There was no reply all evening.

By midnight, just as he was about to fall asleep, his phone chimed with a new email notification. He squinted at the screen.

Three words.

[Not good-looking.]

He was so pissed off that he couldn’t sleep all night. He got up again, redid the entire design, and sent it at three in the morning. The client replied at five, even faster this time.

Just two words:

[It’s okay.]

By morning, Li Cang was running on fumes and righteous fury. He stormed into Xu Siran’s office with dark circles under his eyes and slammed his hands on the desk.
“Boss, I can’t deal with this guy. You do it.”

“I’m still cleaning up the mess from the last time you blew up at a client,” Xu said coldly. “You think I have time for this?”

Li Cang had no comeback.

Last month, he’d been arguing with Hu Haoxuan when a client called to criticize one of his designs. Li Cang had lost his temper and cursed the poor guy out over the phone. Xu had spent weeks apologizing, dinners, gifts, and groveling just to patch things up.

Feeling guilty, Li Cang quietly shut the door and went back to work.

This new client was truly something else. Ever replied during the day, only at midnight or five in the morning, and always with the same kind of curt, infuriating messages: two or three words, all negative.

That night, when another “unhelpful” reply came in at twelve sharp, Li Cang finally snapped.

He spent an hour redoing the entire design, but this time, purely for revenge. The bathroom bathtub got a massive, anatomically incorrect addition. The bedroom door, the kitchen, the living room, and even the entryway  all got similar “enhancements.”

By the time he finished, he felt genuinely refreshed. He hit send, shut off his phone, and went straight to bed.

The next morning, when he turned his phone back on, there was a single message waiting.

[Who are you?]

Li Cang smirked and typed four proud words:

[I’m your dad.]

His temper always came fast and went faster. Once he vented, regret usually followed.

By midday, he still hadn’t been called into Xu’s office. No scolding. No email. Nothing.

The client hadn’t complained?

More than that, when he casually asked Xu about it, she actually praised him.

For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating. Xu Siran, the same woman who never complimented anyone, said something nice? Either her acting skills were world-class, or that client was just built differently

Whatever the case, his inbox finally went quiet. No more midnight replies. He slept soundly that night for the first time in days.

The next day was the city’s Rainbow Run. Li Cang hadn’t planned on going, but Fan Yuanju dragged him along anyway.

“Don’t bail on our plans just because of one stupid guy,” Fan said.

He was right.

Li Cang painted a rainbow streak across his cheek and joined the crowd with Fan. That night, the group booked a private room for dinner at a hotel.

Halfway through the meal, Li Cang froze.

The door opened. Someone outside gestured politely, letting another man step in.

The newcomer had a tall, broad frame and a face defined by sharp, masculine lines. His presence filled the room instantly, effortlessly commanding attention. Every small motion, the lift of an eyebrow, the curve of a smile, carried an untamed kind of energy.

Li Cang’s stomach sank.

It was Chi Ye.