Unforgettable Touch - Chapter 4

He had seen people fangirl over Shu Zhenshan’s face, seen people blush and cover their faces in shyness. But someone throwing up at the sight of Shu Zhenshan’s famously handsome face? This was the first time.

Was Shu Zhenshan really that ugly?

Ran Buyue looked pale and sickly. He lowered his head and muttered, “Sorry,” before hurrying off toward the restroom.

Hao Le panicked and shouted, “Teacher Ran, are you okay?!”

Ran Buyue didn’t answer and disappeared down the corridor.

Turning around, Hao Le saw Shu Zhenshan still standing there, looking even worse than before—his expression dark and his favorite pocket square completely ruined. Hao Le felt his head split into two.

“Crap, I don’t know what’s wrong with Ah Ran either. He’s never like this! Especially not at work. I’ll bring him to apologize to you later, I swear!”

He glanced at the poor pocket square and cautiously asked, “Um, so… should I have him clean this precious thing spotless for you…?”

“Ah Ran?” Shu Zhenshan frowned slightly.

“Oh, yeah, I call him Ah Ran. Why?” Hao Le was confused.

Shu Zhenshan stared at him and said coldly, “Nothing.” Then he asked, “When did he get back?”

“Huh?”

Hao Le didn’t understand why he was asking that. His brain stalled, but his mouth ran ahead, “What—what do you mean, when did Ran Buyue return to the country? Just recently… a few days ago, I think…”

“Exactly which day?”

“I-I’m not really sure…”

“Aren’t you his friend?”

Close enough to call him “Ah Ran.”

Faced with Shu Zhenshan’s calm expression, Hao Le didn’t know why, but his hair stood on end.

Think, you idiot! THINK! When did Ran Buyue return?!

If he didn’t come up with an answer fast, The Great Gatsby was about to turn into Countdown to Heaven!

“Ah! Oh! I remember now!”

Hao Le shook Shu Zhenshan in excitement, speaking so fast he was about to explode. “He landed just today! He’d rejected my invitation before, said it was too rushed to attend the banquet right after landing in the afternoon—but I talked him into it anyway…”

Landing at noon, banquet in the afternoon—meaning no rest or time to adjust from jet lag.

Lack of sleep, jet lag, motion sickness, empty stomach, alcohol.

Shu Zhenshan clenched his molars.

Hao Le hadn’t seen him with this “ready to kill” look in ages. His legs nearly gave out.

Just then, someone came to fetch Hao Le, saying the banquet was about to begin and the guest of honor needed to head backstage.

“You go ahead.” Shu Zhenshan’s tone was surprisingly gentle. “I’ll go change.”

The gentler he was, the more terrified Hao Le became—was Shu Zhenshan planning to track down Ran Buyue’s flight, dig up his identity, stalk his residence, and go after him for revenge?

And would he drag me into it too? I’m screwed!

That was definitely something Shu Zhenshan would do.

As the secretary led him away, Hao Le left one last miserable plea: “Bro Zhen… please stay calm!”

Shu Zhenshan watched Hao Le float off like a lost soul. But instead of changing clothes, he called over a waiter and asked to be taken to the kitchen.

The waiter thought he’d misheard. “Mr. Shu, where did you say you wanted to go?”

Shu Zhenshan repeated, “The kitchen.”

If he weren’t known as a trusted friend of the big boss, no one would have let a guest into such a restricted area.

In the kitchen, chefs were efficiently preparing dishes, while assistants plated and delivered orders.

Shu Zhenshan scanned the room and found an idle pastry chef. He asked him to make a bowl of sweet potato ginger soup.

The ingredients were common—everything was readily available. The chef didn’t dare refuse and immediately started prepping.

It was a simple Cantonese dessert. Even the newbies could make it. But as the chef worked, sweat began dripping down his face.

Why is this bigshot still standing there? And why is he staring with that terrifying expression, like I’m about to poison someone?

Then the bigshot gave further instructions: “Slice the ginger thick. Add extra.”

The chef quickly agreed, “Yes, sir.”

“And no brown sugar.”

The chef hesitated. “It’ll taste a lot spicier that way.”

Shu Zhenshan calmly repeated, “No sugar.”

“…Understood.”

The chef gulped. Is this meant for an enemy? That strong raw ginger flavor without sugar—he’s gonna burn someone’s throat!

Now he fully understood why the rumors said President Shu was ruthless and cold-blooded. They weren’t exaggerating.

But a while later, Shu Zhenshan changed his mind. “Add a little sugar after all.”

The chef sighed in relief. Ah, so the bigshot does have a heart. At least he left the guy with a sliver of mercy.

—

Even the faucet in the restroom was gold-plated.

Ran Buyue washed his face several times with cold water. Droplets ran down his pale cheeks like melted ice.

Footsteps approached from the door. Ran Buyue stood straight warily, but relaxed slightly when he saw it was just a waiter.

The waiter said with concern, “Sir, please come to the lounge and rest. We have a doctor who can check on you.”

Ran Buyue instinctively replied, “No need.”

The waiter gave a sincere but troubled look. “It’s our responsibility. If a guest falls ill during our event and doesn’t receive proper care, Mr. Hao will hold us accountable.”

So Ran Buyue no longer declined and followed the waiter.

The doctor examined him and said it was nothing serious—mainly a combination of alcohol and low bl00d sugar. Some food and rest would help.

A cart was wheeled in, bearing light and appetizing snacks—perfect for settling the stomach.

Ran Buyue glanced over the spread and politely declined. “Thank you, but I’ll be heading back to the banquet soon.”

The gray-haired doctor gave him a stern look and spoke in awkward Cantonese-accented Mandarin: “Don’t think just because you’re young that you can ignore your health. You’re skin and bones! And your face—it’s so pale it’s practically paper! Eat, young man! You’ll regret it when you’re older…”

“…”

Ran Buyue slowly picked up a bowl of porridge and took a sip in silence.

It was edible, but not very tasty.

“That’s more like it. Eat more.”

Ran Buyue shook his head gently. “No need, thank you.”

Faced with the lavish spread, he just couldn’t bring himself to eat.

The doctor grew anxious. “You stubborn child!”

Just then, another waiter entered, carrying a steaming bowl of dessert and placing it before Ran Buyue.

“Sir, this was freshly prepared in the kitchen. Please enjoy it while it’s hot.”

Ran Buyue felt pressured. “Really, it’s too much trouble. If it goes to waste…”

“No, not at all!” the waiter quickly waved his hands. “This was prepared for all the guests. Mr. Hao—Mr. Hao said you weren’t feeling well and suggested something warm. So the kitchen made this special for you.”

The waiter nearly tripped over his words, barely avoiding a slip-up.

Ugh, us side characters are born to pass on lies for the leads.

Since it was already made, Ran Buyue couldn’t refuse again and silently noted Hao Le’s thoughtfulness.

The porcelain bowl was still burning hot. He lifted the lid, and a warm aroma rose, followed by a sharp gingery punch.

Sweet potato ginger soup.

“Are you kidding me? That much ginger?” the doctor leaned away in disgust. “Tell the chef he’s fired. Let me do it instead.”

Ran Buyue quietly examined the dish, poked the sweet potato, then took a spoonful of the soup. His expression subtly softened.

It tasted good.

Just a bit too sweet.

He lowered his gaze and seriously dug into the sweet potatoes.

Too lazy to open wide, he only took small bites. But surprisingly, he ate fast. Quietly, he finished the entire portion.

The doctor watched in astonishment as Ran Buyue picked out the thickest ginger slice, held it close for a sniff, then bit down.

“You like ginger?” the doctor asked, baffled. “Young folks these days usually hate it.”

Ran Buyue chewed slowly. The spicy heat bloomed across his tongue, and he squinted in enjoyment. “Not particularly.”

Doctor: …Right, sure.

He quietly demolished most of the ginger slices too—only the bowl was left empty.

From the banquet hall, music drifted over. It was time.

Though reluctant, Ran Buyue thanked everyone and left the lounge.

His limbs were warming up, but his head began to ache.

Why was Shu Zhenshan here?

Probably Hao Le’s doing. But Ran Buyue hadn’t known they were friends. Hao Le had never studied abroad. And Shu Zhenshan’s social circle was too wide—Ran Buyue couldn’t possibly remember them all. Nor did he have the right to care.

If he’d known Shu Zhenshan would be here, he never would’ve come.

But what’s done is done. He couldn’t just run away from this mess. He wasn’t that reclusive student from six years ago anymore.

No matter what, he owed Shu Zhenshan an apology. That spilled wine may have ruined a six-figure suit.

At first, he felt uneasy. But remembering Shu Zhenshan’s “I don’t know him,” he relaxed.

Right, they had nothing to do with each other anymore.

Their past was like an ancient ruin deep in the mountains—deserted from the start, eventually buried by weeds, erased from the world.

Since Shu Zhenshan didn’t even recognize him, what was there to care about?

While Ran Buyue was resting, the birthday boy Hao Le had finished his brilliant speech. A live band took over, and the banquet officially began.

A server led Ran Buyue back to his seat—at the end of the long table, right beside Li Yao, whom he’d just met earlier.

“Teacher Ran, are you alright?” Li Yao asked kindly.

“Thank you, President Li. I’m fine,” Ran Buyue smiled.

“As long as you’re okay, nothing else matters,” Li Yao reassured him.

Ran Buyue knew he was referring to the wine incident and not to dwell on it. But what was done was done.

He poured himself a full glass of wine. “Still, I should go apologize to Mr. Shu.”

“You might have to wait a bit.” Li Yao gestured toward the head of the table. “Mr. Shu is in high demand.”

Shu Zhenshan was seated beside Hao Le, surrounded by people toasting him—most clearly targeting Shu Zhenshan, since he’d skipped the earlier reception.

He had changed into a basic suit—no accessories other than a tie. Jacket open, posture relaxed, yet he still stood out from the crowd.

With that figure, that face, even in a potato sack, he’d still be the best-looking man in the room.

Ran Buyue admitted, he had fallen for the looks. But really, who likes ugly men?

Clearly, others weren’t blind either. Many toasting him were slick business types eagerly handing over business cards—Shu Zhenshan accepted them all.

Among them were handsome boys and pretty girls. Ran Buyue even recognized a popular young idol—baby-faced, charming smile, both pure and flirtatious.

Shu Zhenshan clinked glasses with him, smiling, chatting.

Yan Chuan Group made its fortune in entertainment real estate. In showbiz, they were god-tier capital. Young actors and singers wanting to cozy up made perfect sense.

Over the years, surely countless beauties had thrown themselves at Shu Zhenshan, doing everything just for a sliver of attention.

That was normal.

Ran Buyue looked away indifferently—only to meet Li Yao’s amused gaze.

“Teacher Ran, have you thought about my earlier invitation?”

Li Yao was the founder of a new energy car company. Young, successful, and currently riding a wave of explosive growth.

At the reception, he had approached Ran Buyue first. Surprised to learn he was returning to China, he’d invited him to join their new project as design director. They needed someone with innovative vision and strong mechanical knowledge.

Ran Buyue was interested in car design. They’d exchanged cards and chatted—until Shu Zhenshan appeared.

Now continuing the earlier conversation, Ran Buyue expressed gratitude for the offer and said he’d like to know more details.

“Of course. You should definitely visit our company,” Li Yao nodded. “Although I haven’t finalized my schedule yet, I’ll let you know once I do. That okay?”

Ran Buyue would also be busy—finding housing, renting a studio, paperwork, hiring, renovations… He might not be available on short notice. But he knew opportunities were hard to come by. So he agreed. “Feel free to contact me anytime.”

At the other end of the table—

Glasses clinked, laughter flowed. Dozens of business cards later, not one of them had any real value.

Shu Zhenshan, bored, let his gaze drift toward the far end of the table.

Where his ex-boyfriend was seated.

The same ex who threw up the moment he saw him.

Now, after scarfing down his carefully prepared dessert, he sat there chatting and drinking like nothing happened. Rosy cheeks, healthy lips.

See his face, and he pukes. See others, and he’s all smiles.

In just fifteen minutes, the ex had consumed one appetizer, half a chicken entrée, and a full salmon course—eating with elegant stealth but at a rapid pace.

Like a little snake finally willing to eat.

Once upon a time, Shu Zhenshan had been a very good snake keeper. And clearly, he still had the touch.

At least he hadn’t let his ex starve to death in front of him.

That alone should count as a good deed. Saving a life earns you divine merit.

Ran Buyue sat there talking to that Li Yao guy with ease—natural, sociable, toasting smoothly. A far cry from the shy, withdrawn student he once was.

To Shu Zhenshan, this version felt completely unfamiliar.

But that was fine. They were strangers now anyway.

Stranger Mr. Ex and that car company boss were chatting away. Shu didn’t even need to hear the conversation—he knew it was all meaningless fluff.

Hao Le nudged him. “Zhen, where’d you drift off to? Xiao Wei’s asking if you’re interested in sending people to the next venture summit.”

Shu Zhenshan calmly pulled back his gaze. “Not interested.”

“What were you even looking at? Your stare was like a knife…” Hao Le followed his line of sight, spotted Ran Buyue chatting happily—and broke into a cold sweat. He jumped up and scrambled to the back of the long table.

Crap, I almost forgot Ran Buyue ruined Shu Zhenshan’s favorite pocket square!

Ran! If you don’t hurry up and apologize, we’re both gonna get our heads chopped off!