There weren’t many people in the private room. Jinghen glanced around briefly, recognizing so faces but couldn’t recall their nas; probably had seen them at so banquet before.
Cheng Jue had returned to the country a month ago. They hadn’t managed to find a suitable ti to gather everyone until today, when Qin Xiang took the opportunity to invite more people for a lively gathering.
In the center of the room was a mahjong table, where Qin Xiang and Cheng Jue, along with two others, were deeply involved in a ga.
The person sitting on the outermost side heard the noise at the entrance of the private room and turned his head, smiling and waving.
"President Fu is here."
Seeing this, the others also greeted Jinghen, while Cheng Jue, who was sitting furthest inside, reacted as if he had seen a lifesaver, "Brother Fu! Co quick! Help out! I’ve lost several rounds already."
Qin Xiang mockingly chided him in a casual tone, "Inviting outside help for a ga of cards? If you can’t handle it, just leave."
Cheng Jue retorted, "Shut your mouth, Qin Laoer."
Jinghen took off his suit jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door, then walked over to Cheng Jue, glanced at his hand of cards, moved his finger, and discarded a card.
Qin Xiang imdiately discarded a card as well.
Seeing this, Cheng Jue laughed, "All in one suit, matched pair!"
With a slap, he pushed down his cards, shalessly extending his hand, "Pay up, pay up."
Qin Xiang, barely able to mask his irritation, looked at him and cursed, "Shaless."
Cheng Jue finally won a round, and, feeling exuberant as if overturning his servile status, he ignored whatever Qin Xiang said. Gathering the chips to his side, he saw Jinghen walking away, imdiately called soone to take his place, and scampered toward where Jinghen was sitting.
"Brother Fu, I’ve missed you so much!"
Cheng Jue spread his arms and lunged toward Jinghen like a spreading eagle, but he abruptly stopped just a step away because—
He saw the expressionless, almost cold face of Jinghen.
Having drunk a bit and gotten bold, Cheng Jue instantly beca sober, coughed lightly, touched his nose, and obediently sat down next to him.
Qin Xiang, still at the table, laughed upon seeing this, "Cheng Jue, you still can’t change your habit of cowering like a little chick in front of Jinghen. What’s he going to do, eat you?"
Cheng Jue replied indignantly, "You know nothing, this isn’t cowering; it’s respect for Brother Fu."
Qin Xiang chuckled disdainfully at his sycophantic behavior.
Cheng Jue and Qin Xiang had grown up with Jinghen. When the three of them were together in their childhood, they often got into mischief. Jinghen, being slightly older, already displayed a ticulous mind and often was the core strategist behind their escapades.
One difference between Qin Xiang and Cheng Jue was that Qin Xiang’s relationship with Jinghen was nearly equal; he would heed Jinghen’s words, just as Jinghen would listen to Qin Xiang.
In contrast, Cheng Jue was like a little fanboy to Jinghen, his admiration clearly written all over his face.
Jinghen poured himself a drink, and casually filled one for Cheng Jue as well, asking nonchalantly, "When did you get back?"
After high school, Cheng Jue had been sent overseas by his father under the pretense of gold plating his academic credentials, which, albeit diocre, would sound better when ntioned. He had just returned to the country this year.
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