The White Moonlight of Three Male Leads - Chapter 30

Chapter 30: Feng Chengling: I Won’t Let You Down…

 

Song Yuyan didn’t need to do much—just a single bank message was enough to prove that he really had inherited one hundred million.

 

Not just one hundred million, actually. If he really wanted to bring out the full ten billion, the system would also arrange a perfectly reasonable source for every penny. But Song Yuyan figured that eight or nine times out of ten, it would still all be labeled as inheritance.

 

Nothing that would raise suspicion.

 

Song Yuyan quietly gave the system a thumbs up. The system smugly curled up like a cat.

 

Soon, Song Yuyan noticed Feng Chengling’s odd gaze.

 

Feng Chengling wasn’t stunned by the amount itself. His mind was free, and he had always believed that one day he would achieve something great.

 

What shocked him was how Song Yuyan, who usually showed nothing of the sort, could suddenly pull out one hundred million in liquid assets.

 

Feng Chengling was dazed for a moment. “I didn’t expect that in this lifetime, I’d actually get to cling to the thigh of a rich young master.”

 

Song Yuyan coughed lightly, his gaze drifting. “Not just the thigh—you’ve got the waist too.”

 

Having been exposed, Feng Chengling suddenly felt the arm he had wrapped around that waist grow hot. The heat spread, burning him so much that he had to muster real effort not to let his fingers tremble.

 

Feng Chengling gave a quiet “Mm.” His voice was more of a hum through his nose, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a strangely sexy appeal.

 

But he soon calmed down and let out a hot breath.

 

“This is a hundred million—not one thousand or ten thousand. You’re really okay with putting it all in my hands?”

 

Song Yuyan reached out. His fingers were long and nimble, slipping between Feng Chengling’s, intertwining them.

 

Originally it was Feng Chengling who loved this gesture most, but after being clingy with each other for a while, Song Yuyan had come to like this intimate little couple’s gesture too.

 

“I’m fine with it.” Song Yuyan looked up, pure trust gleaming in his eyes. “If I can’t even trust you, then who can I trust?”

 

“It’s too much,” Feng Chengling said rationally.

 

He had no doubt that he could earn one hundred million someday—but at this stage, his current project didn’t need nearly that much.

 

“Our product hasn’t even launched yet,” Feng Chengling said, jaw tensing.

 

Just from Feng Chengling’s gaze, Song Yuyan already knew what he was thinking.

 

Feng Chengling probably didn’t even believe it himself—that his very first product would one day be valued at ten billion.

 

Every self-made billionaire rises through a process of creating one miracle after another—and miracles are never replicable.

 

Song Yuyan nodded. “I know your project doesn’t need this much, but I’m not investing in the project.”

 

Not the project?

 

Then it must be… in the person?

 

Feng Chengling pressed his lips together. “I won’t let you down.”

 

The pressure on his shoulders grew heavier, but under Song Yuyan’s gaze, he still smiled slightly.

 

He wanted to stay composed, but the only thing he could restrain was the tears brimming in his eyes. He didn’t let himself truly cry. He tilted his head slightly and saw the starlight shimmering in Song Yuyan’s gaze.

 

Feng Chengling’s lips curved up slowly in a smile.

 

Like an older schoolmate, he affectionately patted Song Yuyan’s hair, neatening a few stray strands near his forehead.

 

Only then did he speak.

 

“Silly. Emotions are the least reliable thing in the world.”

 

“So many people who are sweet lovers today could be bitter exes tomorrow.”

 

“Three-year itch, seven-year fatigue—time changes a lot of things, and nothing is more unpredictable than the human heart.”

 

His voice carried a quiet sigh.

 

Just like his parents—once madly in love, married by choice. But what happened later?

 

All that sweetness vanished. It turned into arguments, resentment. Even so, they never divorced. Since he was little, his parents had told him, “We’re staying together for your sake.”

 

He had always carried that pressure. The fighting at home? For him. His mother’s tears, his father’s pain—all for him.

 

He forced himself to be composed. He thought he would never believe in love again, never fall for anyone, never marry.

 

Until he met Song Yuyan.

 

Boiling emotions pumped from a blazing heart, burning through his veins and organs, making him—for the first and only time—want a future with someone.

 

…

 

Song Yuyan: “It was always meant for him. I don’t need anything in return. If I weren’t afraid he’d think it was too sudden, I would’ve given him even more.”

 

With an unchanged expression, Song Yuyan said, “And what about you? Can your feelings be trusted?”

 

Feng Chengling’s Adam’s apple moved. The look in his eyes was like a dark, endless ocean.

 

“Of course.”

 

He didn’t know if his feelings would truly last forever, but he believed in his own character.

 

When faced with temptation, with the lure of something new—even if the feelings dulled—he believed his character would guide him to do what’s right.

 

To restrain himself.

 

Feng Chengling squeezed Song Yuyan’s hand gently and said,

 

“But we still have to sign a contract. Since you’re investing in me as a person, I suggest we do it by registering a company and using a shareholding system. Who knows what the future holds? Risk and return—both need to be considered.”

 

At this point, he lifted his eyes and suddenly smiled. “Did you bring your books? Before we sign anything, let’s go over equity financing, debt financing, and depreciation calculations…”

 

Song Yuyan groaned, “I hate you!”

 

Feng Chengling rubbed his hair with a fond, teasing tone, like a candy-coated voice, “It’s okay if you hate me—because I love you, boss!”

 

Song Yuyan blushed and quickly buried his head in the textbook, eyes glued to the page.

 

Feng Chengling was a good teacher. He had a deep pool of knowledge, and his brain stored countless real-world economic cases. He drew on examples and explained them in vivid, engaging ways.

 

By the time Song Yuyan came back to his senses, they had already finished all the material they planned to cover for the day.

 

Feng Chengling leaned back. Sitting on a hard bench for a long time was tiring, but he turned to look at the person beside him and smiled.

 

“So, when are we going on our next date?”

 

Song Yuyan rested his chin in his palm, thinking. The contract should be finalized as soon as possible—every minute delayed was gold slipping away for Feng Chengling. He made a decisive call.

 

“The sooner, the better. How about tomorrow?”

 

Feng Chengling’s jawline tensed, and he let out a low “Mm” from his throat.

 

…

 

When it came to serious matters, Song Yuyan was very efficient.

 

This time, he and Feng Chengling didn’t meet in the lecture hall.

 

Song Yuyan followed Feng Chengling to sign the contract. Before signing, Feng Chengling practically walked him through every clause.

 

Feng Chengling’s original idea was to set up an investment company under Song Yuyan’s name. His project—and any others he’d pursue—would fall under a tech company registered under his own name. Song Yuyan’s investment would flow from the investment company, determining his equity share, etc. That way, the money and operations would be more transparent.

 

The biggest reason was this: right now, Song Yuyan giving Feng Chengling one hundred million to develop an app was far too much. Feng Chengling felt like Song Yuyan was overpaying. Using a company setup would allow the funds to be transferred in stages, giving Song Yuyan more control.

 

Feng Chengling didn’t think there’d be an issue.

 

But unexpectedly, Song Yuyan shook his head.

 

If he had to fake his death and disappear later, how could he continue managing a company without giving himself away?

 

“I already said, I’m investing in you. No need to make it complicated. Set up the company under your name. I’ll hold 50% of the shares, but you handle all the operations.”

 

Song Yuyan smiled deliberately. “Who wants to break their back managing things when they could sit back and collect dividends?”

 

Feng Chengling pressed his lips together. “Are you sure?”

 

The app he was developing would offer full lifestyle services—food, clothing, housing, and travel. If things went well, the company could easily be worth ten billion.

 

But that was if it went well. If it failed, Song Yuyan’s investment would be wasted.

 

And there were operational risks, too. With control in his hands, there were plenty of ways to make the company look like it was losing money while actually pocketing profits.

 

Never test human nature.

 

Ownership is important—but in economic activities, control is often even more valuable.

 

It meant that Feng Chengling could do a lot: build the company, hire or fire anyone, fill the team with his own people, handle the company’s finances, supply chains, sales channels, strategic direction, profit and loss, and even use financial tricks to breed capital.

 

After a few rounds of funding, if Song Yuyan didn’t get involved, and the company fell into the hands of someone with bad intentions—he could end up losing everything.

 

Of course, Feng Chengling wasn’t planning to rob Song Yuyan blind. He just… worried about him.

 

Song Yuyan studied economics too. Why would he trust him so blindly? For love?

 

If it were someone else, Feng Chengling would scoff. But since it was him—everything felt different.

 

A scorching heat surged through his chest, like lava erupting from a volcano and flowing down, blazing through every inch of his body.

 

Feng Chengling added another clause. This time, it was Song Yuyan who fell silent as he read it.

 

In it, Feng Chengling promised to ensure a minimum annual profit and guaranteed at least a 20% annual return, ensuring that even if Song Yuyan acted like a hands-off investor, he would still hold significant influence.

 

Only then was Feng Chengling satisfied. “I’m giving you a return based on the market rate. Just hold on to it with peace of mind. I won’t let you lose everything.”

 

Song Yuyan trusted him—trusted him enough to invest in him—so he naturally wanted to show Song Yuyan the same respect. A fair and equal partnership was the bare minimum. Beyond that, he wanted to live up to the weight of that trust.

 

Song Yuyan pressed his lips together and looked at Feng Chengling, a lump rising in his throat.

 

In that moment, he almost wished Feng Chengling would try to take advantage of him a little. That way, he wouldn’t feel so guilty for what he might have to do in the future.

 

…

 

The matter didn’t end there. Feng Chengling also wanted Song Yuyan to get better acquainted with their team.

 

Yes—their team. That idea gave Feng Chengling a deep sense of security.

 

The group arranged to meet in a private room.

 

Li He and the others already knew what was going on. The moment they saw Song Yuyan, they welcomed him with overwhelming enthusiasm—much more than last time.

 

Though Feng Chengling hadn’t said anything about the pressure he was under, Li He and the others weren’t clueless.

 

They had even worried that Feng Chengling might resort to credit loans or high-interest borrowing to raise funds.

 

Sure, the bank might approve a credit loan, but with an interest rate over ten percent, it would push their costs through the roof. If they got tangled in predatory lending, it’d be even worse—close to 20%. They could end up working themselves to death and still not make enough to cover the interest.

 

But without those options, where would the money come from?

 

Still, they trusted Brother Feng. It was because of that trust that they’d come together in the first place. Since they couldn’t figure out a solution, they left it to him.

 

Who would’ve thought the real answer to entrepreneurship was clinging to a golden thigh?

 

Then again, didn’t Zhu Yuanzhang also have Empress Ma when he started his rise? This was fate—pure luck.

 

Brother Feng’s luck stat was still maxed out!

 

Li He muttered under his breath, “Others want to live off a sugar daddy and can’t. But Brother Feng? Heaven practically shoved the soft rice into his mouth.”

 

Zhang Youming snickered, “Jealousy twisted me, made me crawl in the dark, made me run screaming from the madhouse, down the streets, past a luxury sports car. I looked up to the sky and asked the heavens—”

 

“Who does heaven favor?” Fan Yong added, headphones still on.

 

Zhang Youming snorted, “Of course I was asking when the heavens would drop a cute junior into my lap.”

 

Fan Yong’s eyes flickered. “Heaven might not drop a junior down for you, but a junior always has a roommate.”

 

As he said that, to the astonishment of both Zhang Youming and Li He, Fan Yong blushed, picked up a glass of wine, and walked straight over to Song Yuyan.

 

Fan Yong wasn’t thinking about scoring a wealthy roommate or sugar daddy. He didn’t need one—he could become one himself someday. But when he saw the intimate atmosphere between Feng Chengling and Song Yuyan, he suddenly… really wanted to fall in love.

 

As for gender—didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore.

 

Zhang Youming and Li He were left speechless.

 

After a while, they saw Fan Yong chatting and laughing easily with Song Yuyan, clearly hitting it off. Zhang Youming and Li He exchanged looks.

 

Li He muttered, “You know, Old Zhang… Fan Yong’s a bit slow. That’s just how tech guys are.”

 

Zhang Youming clinked glasses with him. “And we’re not? If you think about it—who’s the real idiot for not cozying up to our future boss sooner?”

 

With that, Zhang Youming also made his way toward Song Yuyan.

 

Li He stayed rooted in place. He’d always considered himself smooth and charming, beloved by all. But now… was he the slow one?

 

“Wait for me!” Li He called out, already striding after them.

 

Song Yuyan, now surrounded again, thought to himself, Feng Chengling’s friends are way too enthusiastic!

 

He had felt a bit down before arriving, but the warm atmosphere quickly lifted his spirits. As expected, humans are social creatures—being liked really does make you happy.

 

Right now, he was genuinely happy. His eyes sparkled as he looked at Feng Chengling.

 

Seeing Song Yuyan smile made Feng Chengling relax and soften too.

 

Song Yuyan knew how to have fun, but this gathering wasn’t just for fun—it was to talk about the future. Feng Chengling had initially planned for a low-budget app. Now that money wasn’t an issue, it didn’t mean he’d start burning through it. There were still ideas to be discussed.

 

His plan hadn’t changed—he still wanted to try launching a business, starting with an app.

 

Once the icebreaker ended, it was time for the real meeting.

 

Everyone’s expression naturally turned more serious.

 

After Feng Chengling shared his proposal, Song Yuyan noticed that the others weren’t speaking—they were all looking at him. So he broke the silence.

 

“A map app?”

 

He thought it had great potential. The current navigation apps still left much to be desired in terms of service, which meant there was plenty of room for their own app to break in.

 

“From point A to point B, what’s the best route? Where to turn? Where’s congested? What roads have restrictions? What areas are blocked? What’s the fastest path…? Where are the hotels, restaurants, food spots…? Hotel and restaurant locations and their details…”

 

As Song Yuyan spoke, ideas flashed through his mind.

 

Service. Service was key. If they could do what other apps hadn’t—and offer a better user experience—then people would be willing to download and use theirs. That was the path to capturing a wide market.

 

Just like how WeChat suddenly burst onto the scene—if the app didn’t offer real convenience for users, why would it succeed in a competitive market?

 

Song Yuyan kept talking. Over the years, he’d been studying, growing. He was no longer the person he once was.

 

He’d spent time improving himself. He had his own observations and thoughts about many things in the world. What he lacked was the courage and motivation to act. He knew smartphones were expensive to develop, but he never seriously considered taking the leap.

 

Though really, it wasn’t full development. When the first iPhone came out, how many of its components were truly original? Many were just existing parts being reused.

 

His own shortcomings could be fully covered by Feng Chengling’s team.

 

More precisely, they could complement each other.

 

Song Yuyan had the ideas. Feng Chengling had the drive.

 

That synergy—it hit him right in the heart. The thrill sent tingles down his scalp.

 

As he spoke, he couldn’t help but think—he could see a new future. A future reshaped by him.

 

The system chimed in: “Host, the male lead Feng’s storyline has already changed~”

 

Song Yuyan answered with a quiet hum. Yes—just like with Yi Xiang Sui. Both male leads were now walking paths different from the original script.

 

“But that’s life,” he thought. If you knew the ending to everything, wouldn’t that be boring?

 

The unknown. The thrill of risk. All of it excited him.

 

Not every day has to be the same. Today doesn’t need to be a copy of yesterday. Each day can be different—and lead to a different future.

 

…

 

Feng Chengling’s fingers curled slightly. He rubbed his fingertips together, his heart pounding.

 

He suddenly recalled the first time he met Song Yuyan—and compared that quiet, innocent boy who seemed like he’d stepped straight out of a campus manga, to the confident, expressive, idea-rich Song Yuyan in front of him now, lighting up the room.

 

One was pure and naive. The other dazzling and radiant.

 

And yet, both were Song Yuyan.

 

His gaze deepened, eyes black as ink.

 

D#mn it. No matter which version he is—I like them both.

 

…

 

Song Yuyan and Feng Chengling’s team—no, their team—grew even closer through collaboration.

 

Whenever Song Yuyan had free time from class, he’d head to the studio. The group would discuss ideas again and again. And step by step, their dreams were becoming more real.

 

That pace didn’t slow—even after their app was valued at over ten billion.

 

During this period, even with all the busy work, the two dorm groups still managed to host a gathering.

 

Everyone was from the same school, so conversation came easily.

 

Standing off to the side, Song Yuyan chuckled quietly. “Fan Yong is dressed way too formally.”

 

Feng Chengling grunted in agreement. He himself used to spend time dressing up daily. Back then, Fan Yong had rolled his eyes constantly—but now? Not only did he question it—he became him.

 

Feng Chengling couldn’t help laughing and leaned in close to whisper, “He’s not treating this like a normal gathering.”

 

Song Yuyan raised an eyebrow. “Then what does he think this is?”

 

A luxury banquet? A golden ticket to high society?

 

Feng Chengling cleared his throat. “Maybe… he sees it as a matchmaking party.”

 

A blind date, huh? Song Yuyan couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

 

The two slipped away to the corner for a bit, and when they returned, eyes still avoiding the crowd, Song Yuyan glanced over intentionally.

 

—Fan Yong was chatting happily with Dormmate No. 4.

 

From the twinkle in their eyes, Song Yuyan could see sparks flying.

 

He felt a flicker in his heart too. But his spark came with a countdown.

 

Only six months left.

 

The thought hit him hard.

 

Feng Chengling noticed the distant look in Song Yuyan’s eyes, and a sudden wave of panic swept through him.

 

Song Yuyan was right there—yet somehow, he felt like he couldn’t hold onto him.