ADTCP Ch62

Because of that one word, “Platonic”, Tao Zhen paid a heavy price.

When he woke up the next day, the sun was already high. He saw the messages from Bai Yuxuan and Liu Xian on his phone but had no heart to reply. All he could think was: if only there were a regret pill in this world, he would rewind to last night and never bring up those three syllables, Pla-to-nic.

So much for “once every four years”, Zhu Wensheng could do it four times in one night.

There was no regret pill; the only thing he could take was anti-inflammatories.

His butt and legs ached so badly that he lay in bed for two or three days before finally recovering. He could only be grateful it was summer break and nothing pressing demanded his time.

Zhu Wensheng, however, was the opposite just then.

It had been two or three months since he took the VCC championship. By now, not only had he completed all the signing procedures, he had fully recovered his physical condition and reset his state. The club was therefore considering arranging his UFC debut during this period.

A debut is no small matter. As the saying goes, “A good start is half the battle.” If a fighter enters the UFC and suffers a brutal loss, people will find it hard to believe in his strength thereafter, which could affect his commercial value going forward.

So not only the club but even Tao Zhen grew nervous. He had no time to quibble with Zhu Wensheng about how he obviously knew those things were the wrong size yet didn’t tell him; instead, he seriously researched the UFC match procedures and Zhu Wensheng’s opponent. For his part, Zhu Wensheng began intensified, targeted training.

Everything proceeded in an orderly, tight rhythm, and soon it was July 2.

The match was set in Los Angeles. When their plane landed, it was just about noon local time.

The club members didn’t even have time to eat before hurriedly coordinating with the local staff. As the fighter, Zhu Wensheng certainly wouldn’t be idle either. Only idler Tao Zhen had nothing to do; after helping settle the luggage, he went out to find food.

He’d gone out in his own clothes, but the hotel was entirely block-booked by UFC staff, fight teams, and media. Dressed so out of place, he drew extra looks.
Thinking it over, he simply doubled back and fished a spare black team uniform out of Zhu Wensheng’s suitcase to put on.

Now he looked the part, blending in perfectly with the surroundings; no one stared anymore.

Tao Zhen headed downstairs and scoped out the hotel restaurant, but couldn’t help frowning. Cultural differences, after all, the dishes were bland and, to him, oddly “white-people food.”

He hadn’t grown up eating this kind of fare. Unable to bear it, he opened his map app and searched nearby restaurants.

By luck, there was a very famous Chinese place about a kilometer away, glowing reviews across Los Angeles. He hurried over, and sure enough, the aroma hit him from the doorway; most diners inside looked Chinese.

The only downside was the long line outside. But since he had nothing else to do, he took a number and queued at the end.

The slender, fair, blond youth had a strikingly pretty face, yet he was wearing a fight club uniform. That contrast quickly drew attention.

Soon, a foreign young man, muscular, with a little goatee, stood up and walked straight toward him, eyes fixed on him, and asked a question in English.
People who sing well often have a knack for languages; Tao Zhen’s English was actually quite decent. After a two-second daze, he caught on and repeated:

“…You’re asking if I know the fighter S?”

The goateed youth instantly exclaimed “Yeah,” then stepped closer, pointing at Tao Zhen’s black top and trying, in clumsy Chinese, to say: “I’m S’s fan. I know he’ll fight UFC here, so I came specially to see him! You’re wearing their same uniform, are you staff?”

Meeting a foreign fan of Zhu Wensheng abroad felt oddly wonderful. Tao Zhen originally wanted to say he was S’s boyfriend, but worried about causing trouble for Li Min and the others, he hedged: “Not exactly, but I… like him.”

Likes S, is wearing the same uniform, but isn’t staff…

The goateed man’s expression changed at once. He looked Tao Zhen up and down with a critical eye and rattled off in rapid English:
“Then where did you get that uniform? How can you do something like that?”

“No, no, no—you’ve misunderstood…”

“NO!” The goateed man cut him off, frowning. He flexed his bulging muscles in a show of pride.
“I haven’t misunderstood. If you’re really S’s fan, then you should learn from him like I do. Maybe you won’t become the most promising UFC contender like him, but at the very least you should have strong muscles like mine…”

Saying that, he even used his height advantage to look down on Tao Zhen, condescendingly:
“From the looks of it, you don’t know a thing about training or fighting. Are you sure you really like S?”

What do you mean, “Are you sure you like S”?!

There was no one in the world who liked Zhu Wensheng more than him!

Tao Zhen was furious, itching to throw two punches at the guy, but after comparing their physiques, rationality won, he knew he couldn’t win in a fight. But he could at least argue, right?

The blond youth’s dark, glossy eyes rounded wide, his snow-pale cheeks flushed crimson from holding back, and with hands on hips he snapped back in English, full of indignation:
“Who says you need a bodybuilder’s muscles just to watch MMA matches or to like S? That’s completely ridiculous!”

“Of course you don’t need that to qualify,” the goateed man shot back quickly, eyes flicking shrewdly, “but at the very least… at the very least, you can’t be like you, stealing his club’s uniform to wear!”

Stealing clothes…

Tao Zhen nearly exploded. He gave up on English entirely and snapped back in Chinese:
“I didn’t steal anything! I may not be staff, but I’m his family. Wearing his clothes is perfectly natural! And it’s not just me being his fan, he’s my fan too!”

The goateed man fell silent. For a moment, Tao Zhen thought he had finally given up, but then he frowned again and said:
“I didn’t understand a word you just said… Were you chanting a spell?”

“……”

It was like punching into cotton. Tao Zhen deflated like a pufferfish letting out air, sighing as realization dawned, why was he wasting energy arguing with such a stubborn foreigner?

Just then, the goateed man’s dining companions finished their meal and came out of the restaurant. Laughing, a few of them patted him on the shoulder and dragged him off.

One Chinese-American girl, however, stepped forward with an apologetic smile, greeting Tao Zhen:
“Sorry about that, he’s always like this—stubborn to a fault. He’s actually one of S’s most devoted fans. He’s been following him even before S signed with the UFC, and when he heard about this fight, he traveled all the way to Los Angeles to watch…”

Well… since he really was a loyal fan of Zhu Wensheng’s, Tao Zhen’s anger gradually eased. Though still a little sulky, he told the girl it was fine.

Grateful, she smiled at him before hurrying to catch up with her friends, and the group left in a noisy wave.

Just then, a table opened up inside the restaurant. The waiter quickly cleaned it, replaced the utensils, and called Tao Zhen over, handing him a menu.

Tao Zhen forced himself to press down his lingering irritation, flipped through the menu, and called Zhu Wensheng:

“Hey, Ah-Sheng, are you done yet? Are you with Sister Li Min and the others?”
“I’m at a restaurant nearby. I’ll send you the menu later—see if there’s anything you all want, I’ll pack it and bring it back.”

“It’s fine. How heavy could it be? You just rest, no need to come all the way out again…”

“……”

The youth who had just argued outside with a foreign goateed fan now stepped into the restaurant. Handsome and striking, he carried with him a certain unique aura that made people instinctively want to draw closer.

For a moment, Tao Zhen was stunned. His English was good, but not good enough to bicker with a native speaker; he racked his brains for how to respond.

So, when he pulled out his phone to make a call, the woman sitting with her husband and daughter couldn’t help but lift her head, smiling as she looked at him.

Yet that smile instantly froze the moment she heard him mention two familiar names.

Her heart pounded violently. It took several seconds before she snapped out of it as if waking from a dream. Her gaze locked onto the boy’s club uniform. With slightly trembling fingers, she pulled her phone from her pocket, opened a search engine, and hurriedly typed in a string of keywords: fight, UFC, S.

The gray buffering icon spun round and round before the page finally loaded. She skimmed only a few lines before she couldn’t bear to continue. Her slender fingers clutched the phone so tightly it was as if she might crush the sturdy screen.

Beside her, her blond, blue-eyed husband was still earnestly serving food onto their plates, while their curious little daughter leaned against her side, blowing softly on her stiff fingers with concern.

“Mommy, what are you looking at? What’s wrong?” she asked in a sweet, childish voice.

Just then, the boy in the distance hung up his call. The woman abruptly lowered her head and forced a faint smile at her daughter.
“It’s nothing…”

Behind him, Tao Zhen thought he felt two vague, lingering gazes fall upon him. He couldn’t help but turn his head, scanning the room.

The place was noisy, bustling with chatter, steaming dishes fresh from the kitchen filling the air with pungent aromas. Customers from all over, faces varied, accents distinct, ate heartily at their tables.

He saw nothing. No one was staring at him.

…Had he imagined it?

Tao Zhen was on the verge of doubting himself when, luckily, Li Min and the others sent over the list of dishes they’d chosen. He quickly called the waiter and read off the order.

The waiter, tip in hand, hurried off to the kitchen. Before long, steaming takeout boxes and bags piled up into a little mountain.

Only then did Tao Zhen realize Zhu Wensheng’s foresight. He regretted refusing so quickly just a moment ago.

But as he struggled to scoop up all ten-odd bags in one go, a crisp bell suddenly chimed.

The glass door of the restaurant swung open. A tall, long-legged young man walked straight inside.

Broad shoulders, narrow waist, a strikingly handsome face, cold and dazzling. Amid the deep-set features of the European crowd, he didn’t look lacking in the slightest; rather, he carried a unique magnetism that made him stand out effortlessly.

Tao Zhen’s eyes lit up instantly, as though pardoned from a heavy burden:
“Ah-Sheng!”

Zhu Wensheng came over to him. He didn’t scold him for trying to carry everything alone; he simply took more than half of the bags from his hands.
“Mm.”

Relieved of so much weight, Tao Zhen happily circled around him, then paused, suddenly remembering something. With a hint of envy, he pinched his own thin arm and muttered sourly:
“…Say, do you think maybe I should be working out with you guys too?”

Zhu Wensheng raised his brows. “Why?”

Tao Zhen was at a loss for words. He thought of that goateed foreigner’s muscular physique, then looked again at Zhu Wensheng effortlessly lifting all those dishes. After a while, he could only mumble, “No reason. I just… kind of want to train, that’s all…”

The two of them left the restaurant side by side, their figures shrinking into two dark dots as they walked down the road to its end.

Only then did the woman, who had nearly buried her head in her plate, slowly lift her gaze. She forced a pale smile toward her concerned husband and daughter.

Though already in her forties, her good upkeep and gentle temperament made her look just past thirty. Her beauty could hold its own even against celebrities.

And so, unless she said so herself, no one would have guessed, she had a son already over twenty years old.