ADTCP Ch11

This so-called “Crown Prince,” a leftover feudal relic of the Ming dynasty in Tao Zhen’s eyes, did not really occupy much of his attention.

Though he was grateful for the unexpected help, Tao Zhen didn’t develop any special admiration for him.

After all, compared to some “Crown Prince,” Tao Zhen preferred the hardworking, inspirational type of poor student.

Zhu Wensheng, though from a poor family, maybe with a sick mother, a gambling father, a school-aged little sister, had relied on his own ability to test into Nancheng University, all while fighting underground matches and working part-time.

He refused the expensive gifts Tao Zhen gave, didn’t need much money… That was what you called “a man of integrity, unshaken by poverty.”

The car cut through the crowded streets and finally stopped below the apartment building. Tao Zhen got out, said goodbye to the driver, and went upstairs. His steps were light, and he even entertained himself with imagined scenarios of his next date alone with his boyfriend, chuckling at his own daydreams.

Late-night snack, washing up, a call with his parents, bombarded with messages from Tong Xia and Gu Xingzhou… Not until midnight did Tao Zhen finally set down his phone. Only then did he notice his face was stiff from smiling, and he sank onto his bed.

Silence dropped around him.

Crystal chandelier light spilled faintly through his fingers, stinging his eyes.

The words he had deliberately ignored all evening surged back with vicious force, as if they would swallow him whole.

“You’re nothing but a leech living off your parents.”

“Your parents regret having such a useless waste of a son!”

Tao Zhen flipped over, burying his face under the blanket.

His fingers twisted tight into the sheets, nearly tearing the fabric apart. His head buzzed, Wu Bin’s twisted face looping in his mind, blending with another blurred sneering face, that of a tall, stern teacher. Just moments before, that teacher had been smiling kindly, asking his mother Lin Manyao for an autograph. But around the corner, he was snickering with another man:

“Lin Manyao is such an incredible woman… how could she give birth to a son like that?”

 “Exactly. Tao Dajun even came along, hoping their son could study music with me… Hah! What a joke.”

“Do they really not see the truth? If not for their money, who would bother…”

“What? Am I wrong? Their son looks stupid enough, want me to waste time teaching someone with no musical talent at all?”

Stupid.

Talentless.

Lin Manyao, so brilliant, yet her son turned out this way.

And maybe not just that teacher, maybe everyone thought the same.

At first, when Tao Zhen overheard such words, he had been furious. He wanted to prove them wrong, practiced diligently, hoping to slap the results back in their faces. But the harder he tried, the more disappointing the results. Not only did he fail, he failed miserably.

On the day of the art exam, in front of so many people, facing those unfamiliar eyes, and the worried gazes of Lin Manyao and Tao Dajun, his mind went blank. By the time he recovered, it was over.

He hadn’t performed his true ability.

But the prophecy, “no talent, no ability”, was fulfilled. It became reality.

Tao Zhen exhaled hard, let go of the ruined sheets, and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing both Wu Bin’s feral face and that teacher’s sneer out of his mind. In their place, he imagined a tiny angel with a pitchfork stomping them down.

His parents loved him. They would never regret having him, even if he were nothing but a useless son who only spent their money.

It was himself who couldn’t accept it, who wanted to be their pride.

So, if he wanted to achieve something, to change, instead of being the person Wu Bin mocked, where should he start?

Would this time end the same as before, with him slinking off in defeat?

***

Elsewhere.

After getting out of Tao Zhen’s car, Zhu Wensheng walked a few steps back toward the bar, then stopped. Instead of going in, he veered into the parking lot, got in his own car, and returned to the club.

From the crowded members’ practice floor, he passed into the fighters’ zone, where far fewer people trained. A group of boys sixteen or seventeen, sweating hard, straightened at once when they saw him. Their eyes burned with awe.

“S-Ge!”

“Good evening, S-Ge! Are you training as usual tonight?”

 “S-Ge! Will you give us a match sometime…”
“…”

They had all seen him in the cage with their own eyes. Each one was a fan, eager to surround him, to spar with him. The coach had to rap them on the head with his clipboard, face stern. “What? Are you all done training already? Keep yapping and I’ll add extra rounds!”

Then he turned to Zhu Wensheng. “S, come here. Head coach and the nutritionist have adjusted your training plan and diet for the next while, eh? What’s that you’re wearing…”

But Zhu Wensheng’s lips were pressed tight. Unlike usual, he didn’t nod in greeting. Instead, he strode upstairs quickly.

At the front of the second floor, a German Shepherd in one of the empty dorms started wagging its tail at his footsteps, waiting for food. But today, Zhu Wensheng didn’t stop, he passed the fighters’ rooms and went straight to his private quarters.

The door shut. Darkness.

He leaned back against the door, finally letting his pounding heartbeat ease, clutching the black hoodie Tao Zhen had worn. He breathed in deeply. The normally cool, restrained face was dazed.

Though it had only been on him a short time, it was saturated with the faint scent of the boy.

Maybe he was bewitched. Tao Zhen’s bright smile lingered in his mind, impossible to shake. When Tao Zhen’s lips brushed his chin, he had forgotten to dodge. All he felt were soft arms, a slender waist, long straight legs…

Those moments, vivid and tempting, looped in his memory, strangely stirring his desire.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. He undid his shirt, bare-chested now, clutching the hoodie as he entered the bathroom.

The belt had barely clicked open when his phone rang.

“…”

Seeing the caller, Zhu Wensheng didn’t really want to answer.

He turned on the tap. Water cascaded over his broad shoulders, down the carved shark muscles of his torso, over the veins at his abdomen, disappearing into underwear not yet shed.

His grip on the black hoodie tightened.

The call ended. Then rang again.

Zhu Wensheng raked a wet hand through his hair, dark brows sharp with suppressed ferocity. 

Finally he picked up. His voice was cold, low, hoarse: “Speak.”

“Big young master, I’m running errands for you here, show me a little respect, will you?” Zhao Zhao’s playful voice drawled through the line, half whining, half boasting. 

“That guy you wanted dealt with, already done. Between that and making a PDF, I’d say breaking him was easier. But honestly, I don’t get it. Normally you wouldn’t even glance at trash like that. What’s so special about this Tao Zhen? Worth you stepping out personally, losing your cool?”

 “Eh… Are you showering? Hold up, that sound just now…”

Zhu Wensheng’s forehead veins pulsed. He exhaled slowly through clenched teeth. “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.”

“F***!” Zhao Zhao yelped. “Wait, you really do have someone there? What the hell are you, ”

Click. The call cut.

The tide he’d suppressed surged back. Tao Zhen’s smiling face flashed again and again in his mind, sparking desire that built higher and higher until it crested.

The sound of water in the bathroom went on, unbroken, for over an hour.

Zhu Wensheng walked out barefoot, lowering his gaze.

In the end, he still didn’t throw that black hoodie into the washing machine.

…

The next morning, Zhu Wensheng arrived at the training room two hours early, making up for the time he’d missed the night before.

Halfway through, Zhao Zhao barged noisily into the club, reeking of alcohol. The moment he saw him, his eyes lit up:
“Ha! Caught you red-handed! Spit it out, what were you doing yesterday? The iron tree’s blooming, the cactus sprouted! Don’t tell me you and that Tao Zhen already…”

“I must be right! Who would’ve thought, you, of all people! I figured you’d die alone, ”

Zhu Wensheng was doing squats, eight reps per set, eight sets total. It was a light workout, so he only loaded one and a half times his bodyweight.

With his cold, handsome face and terrifying strength, he looked calm even under the heavy weight, as though crushing something inside himself through training.

Only during a three-minute rest between sets did he glance at Zhao Zhao, saying flatly: “Rare to see you up this early.”

Zhao Zhao waved dismissively. “Up? I didn’t sleep at all, pulled an all-nighter and came straight here. Now hurry up and answer me!”

Zhu Wensheng’s tone cooled: “What’s between me and him… isn’t what you think.”

“Then what is it? Don’t tell me you’re having some saintly sympathy attack, I won’t buy it!”
Zhao Zhao kept pressing, while Zhu Wensheng simply stayed silent and continued his squats.

By the time hours of training ended, Zhao Zhao was half-dead, dark circles under his eyes. Only then, moved by his endless talk of “brotherly loyalty,” did Zhu Wensheng drag him downstairs for a nutrition meal.

Zhao Zhao, used to indulgence, slammed his chopsticks down in outrage at the bland food.
“Zhu Wensheng! This stuff is worse than that Omakase place!”

He was talking about a Michelin-star restaurant he always trashed. The owner was an old classmate from his international high school. The head chef there was arrogant, eccentric in taste, and once, allegedly, hadn’t washed his hands after using the bathroom.

“Is that so?” Zhu Wensheng replied blankly, eating a piece of plain broccoli. “Then maybe you should eat there instead.”

“…Forget it. Pretend I said nothing.”

Zhao Zhao picked up his chopsticks again, forcing down the tasteless meal, still stewing over Zhu Wensheng’s love life.

After being asked for what felt like the hundredth time, Zhu Wensheng finally dropped the kettlebell in his hand, exhaling where he stood.

His tall frame, with its strong, defined muscles, was striking; but his handsome face was cold, as though he were angry.

Zhao Zhao realized he’d gone too far and quickly shut his mouth. “My bad. I’ll stop asking…”

But Zhu Wensheng took a step toward him.

After so long hesitating, he still hadn’t faced his own heart or the truth.
Maybe now was the time to admit it.

“As you said, I do have something with Tao Zhen.”

After a pause, under Zhao Zhao’s eager gaze, he calmly finished the sentence:
“I’m being kept by him.”

“I’m probably just the boy toy he supports on the side.”

The air went dead silent for a few seconds.

Zhao Zhao shut his eyes tight and muttered: “I need sleep. I seriously need sleep.”

Zhu Wensheng: “…”