Why are you laughing?
Huang Fuda had just stepped off the elevator when he saw the message. He thought to himself that he had finally said it, but he had things to do today and couldn't find the time, so he arranged to meet Fang Chuan at his house tomorrow night.
The two knew perfectly well what would happen after they left.
Huang Fuda invited people tonight to relieve his worries.
Xianye City is located 200-300 kilometers from the source of the Yellow River. Several small tributaries flow through the city, giving it a leaf-like shape when viewed from above, with the rivers resembling the veins of the leaf. In its early years, it was considered a remote third-tier city. However, this year, Xianye's tourism industry has made a significant push. Aerial photography of Xianye, accompanied by captions like "Water Town Beyond the Great Wall" and "Source of Ancestral Heritage," has attracted many visitors and is becoming increasingly popular.
Huang Fuda's recent worries are related to this. If he is considered the local bigwig in Xianye's hotel industry, then those large companies outside are the powerful dragons that want to suppress him. They all want a piece of this huge pie.
Meanwhile, those companies have hotels all over the country and have a high level of national recognition. After opening a branch in Xianye, many tourists from other places prefer to stay at their hotels.
So he decided to upgrade his cloud island.
He had barely arrived in the lobby when the people he had arranged to meet arrived. He greeted them with a beaming smile. The two men were a burly man and a thin man; the burly one was from Northeast China and came to Beijing, named Wang Tielin, and the thin one was his secretary.
Huang Fuda greeted them briefly and, amidst laughter and conversation, led the group deeper into the hotel.
The next day, Huang Fuda took Wang Tielin to inspect several hotels in the city in the morning, especially the one in Laowa District, and then took him to the airport in the afternoon.
Before parting, Huang Fuda said that he would go to Shenyang within a week to learn more about the matter, and if it was feasible, he would sign the contract immediately.
The airport is very far from the city center, and apart from factories, there are few people around. Huang Fuda thought about the rumors he had heard recently, so he instructed Lao Liu, who was currently driving, "Pack up tonight, and go to the next city tomorrow. Take the original contract and see if you can get the land use certificate and property certificate. We'll see how things go as they come; money is not a problem."
Lao Liu is his driver and part-time assistant. He has been with him for many years and trusts him a lot.
"Back then, nobody in that area had a license. If something really happened, they wouldn't single us out, would they?" Old Liu asked.
"in case."
Huang Fuda closed his eyes and offered no further explanation.
Upon arriving at headquarters, he instructed Lao Liu to prepare the necessary arrangements, while he drove home to change his clothes before heading to Fang Chuan's house.
He's 28 this year, probably. He felt he needed to dress up for a date with Fang Chuan, a 22-year-old.
It was dusk when we set off, and a vast expanse of orange stretched across the horizon. Although it was early autumn, there was still a lingering summer heat, making one not want to stay outdoors for even a moment longer.
Even with the air conditioning on, it was still stuffy with the windows closed, so Huang Fuda opened all four windows to let in some of the hot air from outside. He then lit a cigarette while waiting at a red light.
The red light was very long, 90 seconds, while the green light was ridiculously short, only 15 seconds. However, Huang Fuda was very patient and not impatient, slowly smoking a cigarette while waiting. He waited for two rounds, finishing one cigarette, before it was finally his turn to cross.
He casually tossed the cigarette butt out the window, started the car, and drove through the intersection.
We'll be at Fang Chuan's house soon.
After parking the car, I saw a grill selling roasted pig's trotters outside a deli. Out of concern for the sick person and thinking that eating certain foods can help replenish their health, I bought two.
When I went to make the payment, a message from the traffic management department popped up in the notification bar: I had just been photographed for throwing a cigarette butt.
Huang Fuda thought to himself, "What bad luck! The fine is a minor issue; the real problem is that I've lost my last two points."
He hadn't driven by himself for a while and had been careless; he shouldn't have been so reckless at the intersection. But he had just gotten over an old problem yesterday and wasn't going to let this little thing bother him.
Fang Chuan was busy preparing food in the kitchen. He often cooked when he was at home, but after moving out, he stopped ordering takeout altogether.
He firmly believed that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach.
Although he was cooking, he kept his ears open to the doorway, and absentmindedly added half a spoonful of salt.
The knocking finally sounded, and Fang Chuan dropped the spatula and ran to open the door.
Standing at the door, recalling Boss Huang's haughty demeanor that day, Fang Chuan felt a surge of desire. He slowly exhaled, narrowed his eyes, and smiled as he opened the door.
Then, his smile vanished. Facing him was a dark gray striped casual suit jacket over a white polo shirt; his gaze moved down to gray suit shorts, and further down, white cotton socks and white sneakers.
Fang Chuan's vision went black when he saw his clothes.
Don't you have a personal assistant?!
Then he saw Huang Fuda looking at him with a puzzled expression, his sharp eyes scrutinizing him.
He held up the roasted pig's trotter packaged in a white, transparent plastic bag and said gently, "Why the sudden long face? Are you a Hui Muslim?"
………
"No," Fang Chuan said, "I'm just too touched. Since I'm already here, why bring pig's trotters?"
Fang Chuan couldn't bring himself to laugh. This was completely different from what he had expected, and his already slightly drooping lips drooped even further when he wasn't smiling.
He turned and went inside with a hint of dissatisfaction, without saying anything more, and went back to the kitchen to continue cooking. He had rushed to open the door earlier and hadn't turned off the stove, and now the pot was burning and smoking.
Fang Chuan was in a hurry to finish the burnt dishes when Huang Fuda placed the pig's trotters on the table and walked over.
"Luckily I bought some food on the way, otherwise I would have gone hungry here." Huang Fuda stood behind Fang Chuan, looking at the smoking pot with a mocking expression.
"You really have foresight, being a boss," Fang Chuan continued. "Could you please open a window for me?"
Fang Chuan's rented room is a bright single apartment. The living room is large, and the balcony has floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a beautiful view of the sunset.
"The house is not bad." This was Huang Fuda's affirmation.
"I was thinking of living here for several years, so I made a point of being more selective. But when I saw this house, I fell in love with it at first sight. I wanted to buy it, but the landlord disagreed."
Fang Chuan eventually threw away the burnt food. Fortunately, there were still three hot dishes, one cold dish, and one soup on the table.
And the pig's trotters brought by Huang Fuda.
He served the rice and called Huang Fuda to eat. Then he noticed that Huang Fuda hadn't even changed his shoes after being inside for so long.
Huang Fuda wasn't ignorant; he was just too lazy, or rather, he didn't care much about the feelings of someone who was just using something to amuse himself.
After all, there's a saying circulating in Xianye City's business community about Huang Fuda: "If you haven't succeeded, it must be because you haven't been ambitious enough."
How could an ambitious person not understand the rules?
Fang Chuan didn't know. He wasn't a homosexual with obsessive-compulsive disorder about cleanliness, but he also didn't want more sneaker footprints on the clean floor.
Yes, sneakers won't work, other shoes are another matter.
"Mr. Huang, I forgot to bring you slippers. Please change into these," Fang Chuan gently reminded him.
After hearing this, Huang Fuda turned around, smiled politely at him, and then walked to the door, bent down to change his shoes with his back to Fang Chuan.
Her round, firm buttocks were stretched taut by the suit shorts, the trouser legs sticking up as she bent over, revealing her thick, dark thighs that were not usually exposed to the light, and the muscle lines of her legs rose and fell as she changed her shoes.
Fang Chuan's eyes were glued to Huang Fuda's groin; he couldn't really be angry about the pants anymore. He could somewhat forgive the inappropriate clothing and behavior, after all, the man was genuinely handsome.
Huang Fuda changed his shoes and turned around, noticing Fang Chuan staring at his legs. He smiled deeply at him and asked softly, "Does it look good?"
Fang Chuan looked at Huang Fuda, who was beautiful and very self-aware, and couldn't help but chuckle.
"nice."
"I thought you didn't like it, so I was scared and prepared a way to save face." After saying that, he laughed to himself for a while.
Huang Fuda didn't sit opposite Fang Chuan, but sat directly next to him. The two grown men inevitably bumped into each other a few times when they sat together, leaned forward, picked up some food, or even leaned over.
Fang Chuan was home alone, wearing only a gray vest and black shorts. Huang Fuda had also taken off his coat early, wearing a carefully chosen polo shirt and slim-fit trousers, and sat close to Fang Chuan. Their occasional touches and rubs were mostly intentional.
This seat was certainly not chosen randomly by Huang Fuda; he went straight to Fang Chuan, who was dressed in light clothing, after seeing him. Huang Fuda was always very relaxed and at ease around people with whom he had no vested interests.
He hadn't come here to eat, so he ate very little without paying attention before putting down his chopsticks and turning to stare at Fang Chuan.
Despite being stared at so openly and subtly for a long time, Fang Chuan seemed oblivious to the signal. This was a novel experience; in the past, people who rushed at him would have wanted to cling to him immediately, but this young man was different.
Seeing that Fang Chuan was ignoring him, Huang Fuda simply pushed the bowl forward, propped his head up with his arm, and looked at him.
Fang Chuan exercises regularly and has a well-defined layer of muscle. He has a straight nose, thin lips, and a prominent, thin jawline. Overall, he has a refined and proud air about him.
It's also interesting to watch him eat.
He was eating a pig's hoof, and whether it was bone or tongue, it would occasionally stick out a bump on the side of his face, then disappear and move to the other side, only to be stuck up again a short while later, making Huang Fuda very envious.
But he was a very patient person. After Fang Chuan spat out the bone in his mouth, he raised his hand and covered the back of Fang Chuan's head, pressing Fang Chuan's head towards himself. He then inserted his tongue into Fang Chuan's mouth and lingered on it for a while.
Huang Fuda's medium-length black hair completely obscured his expression. His hand stroked Fang Chuan's slightly prickly hair as if he were stroking a large dog's head.
When they were almost unable to stop kissing, Huang Fuda finally let go of him, then pressed his lips against his and coaxed, "Haven't you finished eating yet?"
Fang Chuan simply smiled with narrowed eyes and didn't say anything.
Seeing this, Huang Fuda was a little helpless. He touched the brat's lips with his thumb and said, "I'll go to the sofa first."
He left, but Fang Chuan stayed there, eating and laughing, finding it all so much fun.
Fang Chuan pretended to eat for a little while longer, then cleared the table and walked towards the sofa. His long, wheat-colored arms and legs swung back and forth, and soon he was next to Huang Fuda.
He squatted in front of the sofa, pulled open the coffee table drawer and rummaged through it, finally finding a dusty condom inside.
I haven't been able to do anything for a while because of my foot injury, and I completely forgot I was out of condoms. This one I found after rummaging through drawers and cupboards is probably the only one left in the house.
"Did you bring it? Or should we go out and buy some more?"
Huang Fuda certainly didn't bring any; he usually doesn't need to prepare these things. Besides, they were already inviting him to his home; who would expect that his family wouldn't even have these things? You must be joking.
Go downstairs and buy it later? No way.
His patience was wearing thin. His calloused hand stroked the back of Fang Chuan's head, and Huang Fuda leaned forward, head to head, eye to eye: "I can't wait any longer."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
