Unforgettable Touch - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Drinking Poison to Quench Thirst

When Ran Buyue spotted Hao Le, he exchanged a few words with Li Yao, then walked over with a wine glass in hand.

Before Hao Le could say anything, Ran Buyue gave an apologetic smile. “I was just about to go look for President Shu. Thank you for taking the trouble to come all this way.”

“Oh, no worries at all. I’m just worried about keeping my own head,” Hao Le replied. “You probably don’t know this, but he really treasures that…”

Hao Le suddenly stopped mid-sentence and said vaguely, “Anyway, it’s just unfortunate it got splashed. That’s probably why he’s a bit upset. But don’t worry—A-Zhen isn’t unreasonable. Just apologize sincerely and it’ll be fine.”

Now Ran Buyue understood. What he had ruined wasn’t just some expensive suit—it was a very expensive suit, one with special meaning to Shu Zhenshan. Possibly a gift from someone important.

Lovely.

It meant his apology needed to be even more sincere.

Ran Buyue called over a server and asked him to fill his glass to the brim, the surface tension just barely holding the champagne in.

Hao Le was alarmed. “Th-th-there’s really no need to go that far!”

But Ran Buyue had already taken a few steps and stopped in front of Shu Zhenshan, calmly saying, “Mr. Shu, I sincerely apologize for staining your suit.”

Hearing his voice, Shu Zhenshan slowly withdrew from his conversation and lowered his gaze to look at Ran Buyue.

“This glass is for you—my apology.”

Shu Zhenshan stared at the glass in his hand, a vein throbbing in his temple.

Champagne. 12% alcohol. Filled to the brim.

He had just been drinking red wine. Now it was champagne. Who knew how many rounds he’d already had at this cocktail reception?

This was the same guy who used to get messily drunk off a single shot. And now he dared to drink like this?

Ran Buyue didn’t hesitate. He raised the glass and tilted his head back.

Shu Zhenshan looked down at him from above and coldly snapped, “Did I tell you to drink it?”

“…”

Ran Buyue slowly lowered the glass and lifted his eyes to meet Shu Zhenshan’s.

It was the second time they’d locked eyes that night. Compared to their first surprise-laden encounter, this time both gazes were steady and calm.

They stared into each other’s eyes, like a silent standoff.

Shu Zhenshan’s voice was low and cold. “You think a drink can make it all go away?”

Ran Buyue looked at him, then slowly lifted the corners of his lips into a regretful smile. “My apologies. It’s our first meeting, and I wasn’t familiar with President Shu’s rules. If I’ve offended you, I ask for your forgiveness.”

His manners were excessively proper, perfectly polite.

Even the words “first meeting” rolled off his tongue so naturally—yet sounded so piercing.

Shu Zhenshan flinched slightly at that phrase. He could clearly see the glimmer of mischief flash across Ran Buyue’s eyes.

Standing beside them, Hao Le suddenly found it hard to breathe. Without time to think, he hurried to defuse the situation. “Zhen-ge, just give us a straight answer—what do you want him to do?”

Shu Zhenshan restrained his emotions, his tone smooth and gracious. “What do you think, Mr. Ran?”

Ran Buyue thought for a moment. “If you don’t mind, I’ll have the suit cleaned and returned to you. If you’re still dissatisfied, I’ll compensate you at full value.”

“I do mind,” Shu Zhenshan cut him off sharply. “I’ll take care of the suit myself. Send the bill to your company.”

A flicker of doubt crossed Hao Le’s mind.

That response was too harsh, too blunt. Not like something Shu Zhenshan would normally say.

More precisely, things had been off ever since Shu Zhenshan stopped Ran Buyue from drinking the wine as an apology. Normally, a drink and a few polite words would be enough. Shu Zhenshan rarely embarrassed people. In business, you always left room for future dealings. Everyone knew that.

And Shu Zhenshan? He was the type who could swallow broken teeth and bide his time. A slap he took as a child could be paid back fifteen years later. A bullet that almost killed him? He’d wait a decade to return the favor. He had clawed his way to power through sheer grit and patience. When had he ever let his emotions show like this?

The only explanation was that the pocket square held unimaginable importance to him. Touch it, and you were dead.

Mr. Ran, your timing sucks. Just got back to the country and already ran headfirst into disaster. Hao Le sighed inwardly. After this, Ran Buyue could forget about ever working with Shu Zhenshan’s company.

Faced with Shu Zhenshan’s demand, Ran Buyue remained calm and nodded. “Understood.”

Shu Zhenshan didn’t move. His eyes never left Ran Buyue.

A question mark practically floated above Ran Buyue’s head. What now, Your Highness?

Shu Zhenshan gave a faint, humorless smile and reminded him kindly, “I don’t even know your company’s name. Where should I send the bill?”

Ah. Fair point. They hadn’t gotten around to introductions, given how he’d started off with vomiting.

Ran Buyue pulled out a business card and handed it over with both hands. “I just returned to the country and haven’t settled on a studio location yet, so there’s no address listed. If the invoice is ready, I’ll… come pick it up at Yanchuan Group.”

Shu Zhenshan’s gaze briefly swept across those pale, slender fingers holding the card. With the air of royalty stooping to a civilian, he pinched the card by one corner, didn’t even glance at it, and slipped it straight into his cardholder.

Even more dismissive than receiving a stranger’s card.

Until the banquet ended, they didn’t speak another word.

—

It was already past midnight when Shu Zhenshan returned home. As soon as the gate opened, a blur of black, white, and gray launched into his arms like a cannonball, howling as its dozens of kilos collided with him.

“Zhima.” Shu Zhenshan chuckled, bending down and easily lifting the over-forty-kilogram Alaskan Malamute. “You’re already over six, my giant baby, and you still want to be carried.”

As he spoke, his smile gradually faded.

Six years had passed.

The dog didn’t notice his master’s gloomy mood. It lay excitedly across his back, howling.

The living room lights turned on automatically. Shu Zhenshan set Zhima down and sank onto the carpet. The alcohol from earlier was hitting him hard now—his thoughts sluggish, his chest tight.

The dog’s paws made soft sounds on the rug, like falling snow, as it paced.

“Zhima.” Shu Zhenshan called, and the Alaskan obediently padded over, tail wagging like a propeller.

He began stroking the thick fur—again and again—almost obsessively.

He exhaled heavily, suppressing something. After a long silence, he finally said, “Zhima… today, I ran into your dad.”

Zhima looked up. “Woof?”

“The other dad.”

“Awoo—”

“All you do is howl. Do you even remember who I mean? If you do, say so.”

The dog tilted its head. “Awoo?”

“See? You’ve forgotten him too…”

Shu Zhenshan fished a small, crumpled business card out of his pocket—bent out of shape by someone’s grip.

He had already looked at it nearly twenty times on the way back.

The card had a premium texture, the logo a design of moon phases—minimalist and elegant. The name of the studio beneath it was ROAM, meaning to wander, to stroll.

On the reverse side: “Ran Buyue.” Below were his email and phone number—clearly business use only.

Zhima nosed curiously at his jacket, shoving around until a red-stained pocket square tumbled out.

Zhima broke into a tap dance of joy. “Woof woof!”

“No touching!”

Shu Zhenshan swiftly grabbed the dog’s muzzle and pushed it aside. He darted forward and snatched the square out from under those heavy paws.

It was already wrinkled, littered with a few dog hairs. Large, uneven stains of wine emitted a rich, intoxicating aroma.

Shu Zhenshan held the handkerchief in both hands. His long, slender fingers curled tightly around the fabric, slowly kneading it, leaving chaotic creases.

The texture was rough—nothing like the warmth and smoothness of his skin—but Shu Zhenshan refused to let go. As if by holding this, he could touch that person again, even if it was nothing more than drinking poison to quench his thirst.

He stared at it for a long time, gaze dark and heavy. As though under a spell, his Adam’s apple bobbed.

Then, expressionless, Shu Zhenshan pressed the handkerchief to his face.

And inhaled.

Deeply.

Again and again.

Drunk on the scent.