Unforgettable Touch - Chapter 15

Chapter 15 – Powerful Horsepower

Ran Buyue’s desk was covered in industry data from Li Yao’s company. After conducting a thorough investigation, he decided to decline Li Yao’s offer.

Primarily, he wanted the freedom to work on projects of his choosing in his own studio. Secondly, Li Yao himself made Ran Buyue uncomfortable. There was no denying that Li Yao was a genius entrepreneur—no one’s perfect—but Ran Buyue found him too slick, overly self-centered, and lacking in boundaries. Working with someone like that probably wouldn’t be pleasant.

Out of social courtesy, Ran Buyue first gave Li Yao a phone call and racked his brain to find the most polite phrasing to turn him down gently.

Li Yao expressed his regret and then asked why Ran had declined, speaking in a mild tone, “A-Ran, don’t bother with polite words—can you tell me your real thoughts?”

Ran Buyue gave the main reason: “I still want to work in my own studio, take on different projects, and train myself.”

I totally understand. Li Yao accepted the response easily and naturally took a step back. Then, if I have a smaller-scale project, could I still invite Director Ran of ROAM to lend a hand?

That line flattered him far too much, so Ran Buyue hurriedly responded, You’re too kind. We’d be honored if you brought business to our little workshop—I’d be extremely grateful.

They chatted a bit more, mostly about maintaining cooperation and keeping in touch. Just as they were about to hang up, Li Yao added, Next month there’s an international tech industry conference in Hong Kong. A lot of big tech companies and international investors will be there. Would Director Ran Buyue be interested in attending?”

Ran Buyue knew this was the highest-level tech summit in Asia. He hadn’t had time to apply for admission, and now, if a major company could get him in, it would definitely save him a lot of effort.

By now, Ran Buyue had begun to grasp the essence of the business world: don’t act too aloof. It doesn’t matter what kind of personal life someone has—as long as they can bring you benefits and convenience, there’s no need to burn bridges.

So he courteously expressed his thanks, saying it was truly a favor. Li Yao waved it off as a mere trifle and cheerfully ended the call.

With Li Yao turned down, Ran Buyue could finally throw himself fully into setting up his studio.

The next day, he arranged to view properties in the tech park with the manager from Yanchuan Real Estate.

It was the same guy as before, who greeted him enthusiastically as soon as he arrived. Mr. Ran Buyue, you can just call me Xiao Zhao. This is our team. We’ll provide professional explanations and location suggestions. This is Xiao Qian, Xiao Sun, Xiao Li…

The entire team wore sharp suits and ties, full of energy and bright smiles. Compared to them, Ran Buyue and Tian Xiaozhe—dressed in hoodies and sneakers—looked like two students who’d accidentally wandered into a room full of adults.

“Their service is amazing,” Tian Xiaozhe whispered as he sipped the brown sugar ginger tea served in a blue-and-white porcelain bowl—part of the team’s welcome gesture. No wonder people say Yanchuan is the ‘Haidilao’ of real estate. Their service really lives up to the hype. It’s no surprise they’re thriving in a downturn—ugh!

Tian Xiaozhe nearly spat out the tea. Whoa, that ginger flavor is intense!

Ran Buyue’s bowl was already empty. He calmly said, “I think it’s a bit sweet.”

The professional team smiled silently. Yes, everything was under control. They were fully prepared for a prolonged battle, determined to win this client at any cost!

The materials they handed Ran Buyue were thick and detailed. In addition to the high-rise unit he’d previously taken interest in, the team had also prepared three additional options, each with extremely thorough documentation—clearly a lot of effort had gone into it.

Ran Buyue first toured the high-rise he had liked, with Tian Xiaozhe chattering beside him. Ran Buyue didn’t react much.

They then moved on to the next location a two-story standalone building in a relatively remote area. But the moment Ran Buyue stepped inside, his eyes lit up.

Xiao Zhao said this one was his personal recommendation. The previous tenant had just moved out, leaving it vacant.

There was a small lawn outside. The interior was spacious. One sun-facing side had an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling glass, letting sunlight pour in and carve a beautiful line across the light gray concrete floor.

Ran Buyue fell for it instantly—it was his dream workspace. Quiet, expansive, and filled with sunlight.

“Will this be a shared lease with other companies?” he asked.

Xiao Zhao replied, “No, the whole two-story unit is rented out together.”

The second floor impressed Ran Buyue even more. Just outside the glass were several lush phoenix trees.

Xiao Zhao noticed his gaze and discreetly glanced at his cue card, then recited with heartfelt sincerity, If you rent this place, by the time your studio renovations are complete, the phoenix trees outside will be in full bloom.

Oh dear. By then, the view from the windows would be filled with flickering fiery red blossoms—irresistibly charming.

Ran Buyue was already planning to use his authority to claim the spot closest to the phoenix trees for his personal office.

Tian Xiaozhe liked it too. Standing by the window, he asked, “That new-looking building next door—is it newly built?”

“Yes, it’s new. No tenants yet,” Xiao Zhao added, “but I’m very sorry—it’s not available for lease at the moment.”

Ran Buyue nodded—probably due to some other development plan in the park.

In fact, this two-story building wasn’t supposed to be up for rent either. But in the internal documents from the real estate group’s top boss, it was listed—with extraordinarily detailed highlights, some of which were oddly personal. Like the phoenix trees, or the flexibility of the space, or that a dessert shop selling Cantonese sweets was just 50 meters away. The specificity of the document was jaw-dropping.

From top down, the message was clear: this client would be tough to crack, but they must rise to the challenge and win him over—no matter how much coaxing or cajoling it took!

The two visitors spent a long time exploring, asking detailed questions—from water and electricity setups to rent terms—clearly showing strong interest.

The team couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Interest meant a chance. They had expected a tough assignment from above, but it turned out the client was polite, communicative, and—bonus—very good-looking. Even if it took a long battle, it’d be worth it!

Xiao Zhao asked brightly, “Shall we check out the next location?”

But Ran Buyue didn’t move. Instead, he said decisively, “This is the one.”

Zhao, Qian, Sun, and Li ?

That was fast.

Mr. Ran Buyue, there are still two more options. You don’t want to see them?

“No need. This is it.”

…What happened to the long battle? What happened to the stubborn client? All their hard-earned persuasion tactics hadn’t even been used yet!

Ten minutes later, they watched Ran Buyue sign the lease contract, floating like they were dreaming.

Hard to believe—they just scored a generous bonus that easily. Even NPCs in CEO romance novels get their happy moments!

Ran Buyue looked up and asked, “Anywhere else I need to sign?”

Xiao Zhao grinned, revealing eight gleaming teeth. “Nope. Here’s your key. From now on, this place is yours. Congratulations!”

And congrats to us on our bonus!

Tian Xiaozhe was teary-eyed. “Boss, you can finally put an address on your business card!”

Securing the studio space was definitely a milestone worth celebrating. Ran Buyue took Tian Xiaozhe out for a lavish meal and had a few too many beers. By the time they got back to the hotel, he was a little dizzy.

Now that the location was set, everything needed to move forward—renovations, assembling a team, and… finding a place to live.

Ran Buyue pulled the key and signed contract from his bag. It still seemed to carry the warmth of sunlight.

He stared blankly at the “Yanchuan Real Estate” logo in the top right corner of the contract.

He didn’t even know why he’d made the decision so quickly. There were so many other developers, so many other options. He told himself to be rational—but ended up making a heat-of-the-moment decision to go with Yanchuan. It was as if he’d surrendered to fate.

His mind involuntarily replayed that night on the cruise—Shu Zhenshan’s composed figure amid a crowd of beauties, the intimate gesture of helping a woman down the stairs, and the pair of them disappearing into the night—clearly off to share a passionate evening.

That alone would’ve been fine. Industry elites could sleep with whomever they wanted. Power overshadowed everything. It was just one of the world’s unspoken, dirty truths.

But Ran Buyue had tried to test the waters with Shu Zhenshan—twice.

The first time, he merely touched Shu Zhenshan’s arm and was dodged like a live wire. The second time, before he could undo his belt, Shu Zhenshan transformed into a chaste monk, pretending to be a cruise staffer and calling Tian Xiaozhe to come fetch the drunk Ran. He might as well have chanted “Amitabha, Dear patron, please stop.”

If not for the fact that Ran Buyue saw Shu Zhenshan get hard under the dim lights, he would’ve been diagnosed with “Digestive Issues.”

Clearly, Shu Zhenshan’s equipment was in working order—he just didn’t like Ran Buyue.

Even so, Ran Buyue still went out of his way to rent one of Shu Zhenshan’s properties. Of course, someone as lofty as President Shu would never care about an insignificant tenant. All this self-inflicted sentimentality was laughably pointless.

I’m pathetic, Ran thought, mocking himself.

Then again, maybe this was karma—he’d accept it.

When they first started out, Ran Buyue hadn’t taken Shu Zhenshan seriously. That’s the truth.

He was handsome, fit, easy to talk to, and their chemistry was good. Sleeping together occasionally was just a way to release stress and smooth out disagreements. Being friends with benefits was enough.

Maybe it was because Shu Zhenshan seemed like a stereotypical American to him—Ran subconsciously grouped him with his old roommates and never considered dating him seriously.

It was obvious from Shu’s clothes, mannerisms, and habits that he came from money. He and Ran Buyue were born in different worlds.

In a top-tier university full of geniuses, many students were children of the super-rich. Randomly pick someone, and their family might own assets worth billions. Others were likely contenders for future Nobel Prizes.

Ran Buyuewas among the rare ordinary ones—he got in with a bit of talent, a lot of luck, and pain lifted by bl00d and tears.

Big-shot guest speakers often came to campus  Scientists, Billionaires, Politicians, Legendary Directors… The kind of people most only saw in the news appeared right in front of them.

Shu Zhenshan was the one who actively raised his hand in such sessions—sharp, confident, and eloquent. In every networking event, he thrived. He could talk to anyone.

In an environment where Asians were often underestimated, Shu Zhenshan made even white competitors admit defeat. He became the leader of the robotics club—securing sponsorships, managing teams, negotiating with professors and companies. He was excellence personified.

Ran Buyue learned from a lab mate, Ai Zilan, that Shu Zhenshan had lived in the U.S. from a young age. Not much else was known, but Ai Zilan figured it couldn’t have been an ordinary school.

People like Shu Zhenshan were usually popular, had many romantic interests, and were symbols of power—just like in American TV shows.

By all logic, Ran Buyue and someone like Shu Zhenshan shouldn’t have even become casual lovers. But their first meeting had been strangely personal.

Ran Buyue had been caught secretly using a 3D printer. Shu Zhenshan didn’t scold him—instead, he helped reprint the part using the correct materials.

While waiting, Shu Zhenshan casually chatted with him in Mandarin—talking about Boston weather, bad Chinese restaurants downtown, the annual Piano Smashing Day at school, and whether they should go and collect keys as souvenirs.

Shu Zhenshan sat backward on a chair, chin resting on the backrest, long legs stretched out, messy bangs, and the easygoing charm of a big brother next door.

At first, Ran Buyue barely spoke. But gradually, he opened up.

When Shu Zhenshan retrieved the part, he asked again what Ran Buyue was making.

Something about Shu’ Zhenshans reliable, brotherly vibe made Ran Buyue lower his guard. Begrudgingly, he opened his model and said, “Fine, I’ll tell you.”

It’s really unrealistic though. You can’t laugh at me. Ran Buyue warned with a serious face.

Shu Zhenshan nodded. “I won’t. I promise.”

And so Ran Buyue explained.

He wanted to make a metallic hand exoskeleton.

While most on the market were for rehabilitation or disability support, his idea was more sci-fi—an intelligent, shape-shifting exoskeleton.

Most of the time, it would stay beside the wearer like a small animal—maybe a spider-like companion to help facilitate its transformation.

The spider would talk, interact with its user, monitor their physical and emotional state, and provide timely reminders and positive interventions.

It could be worn like a bracelet. But if it detected a psychological crisis—based on sound and image analysis—it would automatically wrap around the user’s hand and become a mechanical exoskeleton to enhance… defense… and call for help…

Ran Buyue’s voice grew smaller and smaller—it all sounded too unrealistic. Too childish. Too embarrassing. Like something from a superhero movie.

“This is dumb,” Ran Buyue muttered, ruffling his hair. “Forget it. I was just messing around…”

“Like a guardian spirit?” Shu Zhenshan suddenly asked.

Ran: “What?”

“Like a Pokémon, maybe? Or something like that?” Shu Zhenshan quickly dismissed the idea. “No, that’s not quite right. It’s more like a friend who can fight alongside you—someone you trust completely and who makes you stronger.”

Ran Buyue was silent for a while. Then he nodded.

“That’s a meaningful concept—especially for kids,” Shu said. “Who wouldn’t want their own guardian spirit?”

He instinctively reached out to ruffle Ran Buyue’s hair, smoothing the mess Ran Buyue had made earlier.

Ran shrank back a bit, avoiding his hand but not too far, pouting, “Not everyone gets one. Only the bullied, the lonely, the sad kids get them. Because other kids already have everything.”

He realized he was sharing too much—exposing something dark and personal to someone he barely knew.

But Shu Zhenshan agreed with him “Exactly. Guardian spirits protect good people. Those spoiled brats who already have everything would only abuse them to hurt others.”

“It’s unfortunate, but the world favors the winners. The ones who’ve been hurt usually don’t have access to cutting-edge tech. Meanwhile, the bullies have money, connections, and privilege—and they’re the first to get new technology. Tech can’t tell it’s guarding a wicked soul. That’s the real tragedy.”

He spoke like giving a speech, but with genuine sincerity. “But if there’s a way to change even a little of that—I think it’s worth trying.”

That hit Ran deep—like a meteor crashing into his heart.

After a long pause, he asked, “If you could go back to your childhood, would you want a guardian spirit?”

Shu Zhenshan fell silent this time.

Ran Buyue quickly said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry…”

“It’s fine,” Shu replied. “I guess I was the kind of kid who already had everything—more than most, at least.”

He chuckled awkwardly. “But sometimes, I wished I could be stronger.”

Ran Buyue quietly listened.

“There was this one time,” Shu Zhenshan said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a faint vein.

“They held me down,” he said lightly. “Said I should get high with them.”

Ran’s pupils shrank. His whole body turned cold.

“I didn’t even know what was in the syringe. They said it wasn’t heroin—just something new and safe.”

Ran Buyue could barely breathe.

“They were all upperclassmen, some weren’t even from school. Big guys, strong when high. They pinned me down, arms locked. I fought back, and they beat me up… All I could think was—I wish there was a wall behind me. At least that way, one direction would be safe, so I could better defend myself.”

Ran Buyue’s voice shook: “How did you get out?”

“Pure luck. A police car drove by. Usually they wouldn’t care, but the sirens were loud that day.”

Shu Zhenshan smiled calmly. “You asked if I needed a guardian spirit. Maybe not. All I needed… was a wall.”

Maybe Ran Buyue’s face had gone too pale, because Shu ended up comforting him instead—saying he’d just had some bad luck and met a few really terrible people. But overall, he’d been born with more than most.

They never made a pact, but both kept that conversation a secret.

Ran Buyue later noticed that Shu Zhenshan never told anyone else about what he’d shared that night. He remained the ever-glowing campus star.

Later, Shu Zhenshan gave up opportunities to attend networking events or improve his reputation—just to stay with Ran in the lab at night, building their “little secret baby.”

Technically, the project was impossible—limited by tech, legality, and ethics—but Shu was passionate and committed.

It was a busy, sunny, joyful period.

Ran Buyue once believed they’d one day make their dream a reality. He believed Shu Zhenshan was one of the rare elite who understood what he had and chose not to abuse it.

But Shu eventually left their duo. Other events drained Ran, and at that time, he simply couldn’t go on with Shu.

Looking back six years later, those difficulties might not have been so insurmountable. But that time had passed—and once it did, it was gone for good.

One thing was certain: no matter where Shu Zhenshan went, he never changed.

Ran Buyue had been monitoring Yanchuan Group for market research all these years.

Under Shu’s leadership, the company revived and grew—and never neglected charity. Though many CEOs did charity, Shu did it more discreetly and sincerely.

He ensured fair treatment for employees—no wage delays, proper leave, compensation for work injuries. These basics were rare in reality, but Shu delivered without seeking credit.

If Shu wasn’t that kind of man, Ran might never have returned to China.

Now Shu’s only flaw was having too many lovers. Who knew how many beautiful men and women had sat in his Maybach?

But that wasn’t really a flaw. A busy CEO having safe, consensual flings? Understandable.

Ran Buyue was no longer in love with Shu Zhenshan. He just respected his character—and his bedroom skills. And now, he happened to need a high-powered, human-shaped engine.

He was picky. Having finally found a good restaurant—315 hadn’t caught any violations—he thought it was perfectly reasonable to be a repeat customer.

Third time’s the charm, Ran decided. He’d give it one last try.

With so many foodies visiting Shu’s kitchen—what harm was one more?