Luck Ch.13

Chapter 13: Full of Mischief and Cunning

The noodles made by Ji Yu were delivered.

They weren’t as delicious as imagined, which left Qin Yan quite disappointed.

Jiang Chi, on the other hand, ate with great enthusiasm.

But then again, Jiang Chi found everything delicious, so his opinion wasn’t exactly reliable. Even when Qin Yan once soaked instant noodles in cold water, Jiang Chi had finished the entire bowl without so much as a change in expression.

Inside the bowl, the noodle block—soaked in cold water for two hours—had swollen and turned pale. A sausage floated on the surface of the soup, looking like a drowned corpse.

Jiang Chi glanced at the sickly white instant noodles, his expression remaining steady. “Roommate, are you trying out some kind of new gourmet trend? Is this a high-end way of eating noodles now?”

Qin Yan, expressionless, picked up the fork from the bowl and reported, “The power went out.”

Jiang Chi opened the electrical panel. “The breaker tripped.”

Qin Yan asked, “What do we do?”

Jiang Chi was already used to his roommate’s complete lack of basic life skills.

Qin Yan’s survival abilities were alarmingly weak—comparable to a runaway prince who had never lived outside the palace. He didn’t know how to use delivery services, couldn’t scan QR codes to pay, didn’t understand how to use navigation apps, and had no idea that a tripped breaker needed to be switched back on.

Jiang Chi often thought that if Qin Yan were abandoned outside, he would fare worse than the little match girl. At least she knew how to strike a match for warmth, but Qin Yan…

“Do you know how to use a match?” Jiang Chi asked.

Jiang Chi’s sudden change of topic threw Qin Yan off for a moment—he even wondered if there was some connection between matches and circuit breakers.

Qin Yan touched the induction cooker, then made a logical guess. “Can you use a match to light the induction cooker when the power goes out?”

Jiang Chi: “…”

Look at this. Just look at this. Even the little match girl knew you couldn’t light an induction cooker with a match!

Yet his roommate didn’t.

Jiang Chi rubbed his forehead. “No, you cannot use a match to light an induction cooker!”

Qin Yan’s expression was incredibly serious—so serious it actually made him look a little innocent. “Then why did you ask if I knew how to use a match? Does that have anything to do with fixing the breaker?”

It was the first time in Jiang Chi’s life that he’d heard someone treat a tripped breaker as an actual problem—when all you had to do was flip a switch!

“It’s not a problem,” Jiang Chi sighed. “It’s very easy to fix.”

Qin Yan humbly asked for guidance. “How do you fix it?”

Jiang Chi pressed his hands together solemnly and started messing with him. “Pray to the electrical panel. If your heart is sincere, the breaker will flip back on by itself.”

Qin Yan gave him a doubtful look. “Does praying actually work?”

Jiang Chi kept a perfectly straight face. “Try it and see.”

The two locked eyes for a few seconds. Under Jiang Chi’s unwavering gaze, Qin Yan eventually gave in.

“I prayed,” Qin Yan reported.

Jiang Chi tested the switch. “Still didn’t flip—guess your heart wasn’t sincere enough.”

Qin Yan’s brows drew together slightly. “Jiang Chi, what you just said was absolutely ridiculous.”

Jiang Chi retorted, “And using a match to light an induction cooker wasn’t? Don’t you trust me? Have I ever tricked you before?”

Qin Yan replied warily, “You trick me all the time.”

Jiang Chi pretended not to hear the accusation and continued conning him. “Close your eyes and try praying again. What are we going to do without electricity tonight? I’m scared of the dark.”

There was a small nightlight in Jiang Chi’s room that stayed on all night. From that little detail, Qin Yan judged that maybe Jiang Chi wasn’t lying this time.

If the breaker wasn’t reset, the nightlight wouldn’t turn on.

With no better options, Qin Yan closed his eyes.

Jiang Chi quickly reached out and flipped the breaker.

The switch clicked softly with a “beep” as the power came back on.

Before Jiang Chi could withdraw his hand, Qin Yan grabbed it and pinned it to the panel.

Expressionless and in a flat tone, Qin Yan said, “Caught you. Liar. You just had to flip it up.”

Busted, Jiang Chi immediately tried to shift the blame: “…Why were you peeking?!”

Qin Yan narrowed his long eyes slightly and said coldly, “Jiang Chi, you tricked me again.”

“You just look so clueless about daily life—it’s really entertaining. No one can resist teasing you…”

Noticing Qin Yan’s expression growing darker by the second, Jiang Chi immediately changed his tune: “Uh—how about I treat you to dinner? Hot pot?”

Qin Yan brought over the two bowls of instant noodles that had been soaked in cold water and placed them firmly in front of Jiang Chi. “Eat this. I soaked them all morning.”

Knowing he was in the wrong, Jiang Chi obediently picked up a strand of the drowned noodles with his chopsticks and swallowed it without flinching. “Honestly, it’s still edible… but don’t you think hot pot sounds way better? Fatty beef, ox tripe, lotus root slices, shrimp paste…”

Qin Yan picked up his wallet. “You want hot pot?”

Seeing a glimmer of hope, Jiang Chi nodded eagerly. “Suddenly really craving it.”

Qin Yan spoke slowly, “Then pray to the noodles. Once they vanish on their own, you can go have hot pot.”

Jiang Chi: “…”

The man really held a grudge.

Jiang Chi started pushing Qin Yan toward the door, whining, “The noodles are still a little tough anyway. We’ll have them for a late-night snack. Come on, let’s go—hot pot awaits!”

*

As they passed through the plaza, Jiang Chi noticed someone sketching by the fountain.

The scene was bathed in the warm glow of sunset: the fountain spraying mist into the air, white doves fluttering around, the artist quietly painting, and children running about—a picture-perfect moment straight out of a movie.

In that instant, Jiang Chi suddenly remembered that Ji Yu loved to paint.

Ji Yu specialized in oil painting. His biggest dream was to open his own art gallery. But no one supported him; instead, people laughed at his ambition.

In the book, there was a scene where Ji Yu went to see an exhibition by a foreign painter in the rain. On the way back, the downpour worsened, soaking the linen canvases he had just bought. When he hung them out to dry, he was met with sneers and mockery from the servants.

Jiang Chi subconsciously rubbed his fingertips and asked Qin Yan, “There’s a fairly well-known oil painter holding an exhibition. Want to go take a look?”

Although Qin Yan wasn’t particularly interested in oil painting, he still accurately named the artist: “You’re talking about Sandro Ivedes?”

Qin Yan had to stay informed about these cultured, refined topics so that he could handle such conversations with ease when they arose. He didn’t need to know everything about the subject—just a well-placed remark or two could give the impression of vast knowledge and make others take him seriously.

As the head of a family at such a young age, he was constantly dealing with seasoned veterans in the business world. His youth inevitably put him at a disadvantage, so he relied on polishing these small details to cultivate an image of being well-read and unfathomably deep.

But Qin Yan’s “unfathomable depth” had a different meaning in Jiang Chi’s eyes.

Jiang Chi silently thought: So ‘Ji Yu’ really does love oil painting.

That day, Jiang Chi booked the tickets on his phone and showed the e-ticket to Qin Yan. “We’re going to the exhibit tomorrow. Let’s also buy some canvases and painting supplies—what do you think?”

Qin Yan didn’t quite understand Jiang Chi’s sudden enthusiasm, but he respected it.

It wasn’t like he had anything else to do. If he were still back at the Qin household, he’d probably still be pretending to be in a coma. Since Jiang Chi had accidentally brought him out of that situation, anything they did now was more interesting than lying around acting unconscious.

Qin Yan nodded. “Sounds good.”

*

Jiang Chi’s Lamborghini was still parked downstairs, with the wheel lock still in place.

It had been in the lot for over half a month and was now coated in a thin layer of dust, with paw prints from a stray cat pressed into the hood.

Jiang Chi crouched down to examine the wheel lock, then grabbed a toolbox from the car and, in just a few moves, had it off.

Qin Yan: “…”

If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would never have guessed that a lock that looked so secure could be removed in under three minutes.

Jiang Chi put the lock and tools away neatly, then explained, “This is my specialty.”

Qin Yan pursed his lips slightly and asked in confusion, “Lock-picking?”

“You could put it that way,” Jiang Chi said, pulling out a wet wipe and cleaning his hands. “To an engineer, there’s no such thing as a lock that can’t be opened.”

Qin Yan glanced at the sports car parked under the shade. “What about the car door… can you open that too?”

Jiang Chi looked genuinely appalled. “What are you talking about? This is a fully imported Lamborghini!”

Hearing that, Qin Yan let out a breath of relief.

But just as he started to relax, Jiang Chi added, “Imported parts are expensive to repair.”

Qin Yan: “?????”

Jiang Chi tossed the car key to Qin Yan. “Still, no price can buy my willingness.”

He opened the toolbox, pulled out some kind of tool, and jabbed it twice near the passenger side door.

The car’s lights flashed, and the scissor door swung open smoothly from the bottom up.

Jiang Chi raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

Qin Yan stood frozen, pupils slightly dilated, completely stunned by Jiang Chi’s near-magical unlocking skills.

Unable to hold back a chuckle, Jiang Chi bent slightly, raised an arm, and gestured like a chauffeur: “Please, Young Master Ji.”

Qin Yan looked down at the key in his hand, then bent over suspiciously and stepped into the car. “That was way too fast.”

He sounded a little shaken. “How did you even do that?”

Jiang Chi reversed the car with practiced ease. “Everyone has their own field of expertise, Young Master Ji. You’re good at painting; I’m good at unlocking things. We’re just running in different lanes.”

Qin Yan’s gaze wavered. “My lane isn’t in painting.”

Jiang Chi thought ‘Ji Yu’ was just being modest and gave a light laugh as he hit the accelerator.

The engine let out a satisfying roar, and the high-performance sports car shot forward like an arrow, racing toward the gallery.

In the novel, the city where the protagonists live is called Wuchuan.

Wuchuan City lies to the east by the Canghai Sea and is bordered by the Xiyan Mountains to the west. It has a pleasant climate, abundant tourist resources, convenient transportation, and a highly developed economy. As one of the five directly governed municipalities in China, the urban area alone covers over 8,000 square kilometers—it’s a very large city.

The art exhibition of Sandro Ivedes was held at an art museum located in the northwest corner of the city. It took nearly an hour to drive there from where Jiang Chi lived.

The Qin family mansion was even farther from the exhibition hall. In the novel, Ji Yu had to take the subway and transfer to a bus, which took a full three hours one way.

Perhaps it triggered the novel’s classic “rain always falls during an art exhibition” trope—though it was sunny when they left, a fine drizzle began to fall halfway through the drive.

It was a weekday, and coupled with the rain, the entrance to the exhibition hall appeared somewhat deserted.

The GPS indicated they were nearing the destination when Jiang Chi saw the outline of the gallery.

It was a circular, metallic-colored building, half-shrouded in misty rain. Warm yellow light strips created a unique ambiance, exuding a strong modern and artistic vibe.

Just like how the weirder a sports car looks, the more expensive it tends to be, the more intricate a building’s design, the more it speaks to its value.

Jiang Chi’s luxury sports car was extravagant enough to rival the gallery itself. His modified Revuelto cut through the rain like a bolt of lightning, slowly coming to a stop at the entrance.

The security guard on duty glanced at the car, noted down the license plate number, and raised the barrier without asking further questions.

The exhibition hall was massive, covering nearly six mu of land (about one acre).

As they stepped onto the stairs, the glass automatic doors opened on their own. The glossy black marble floor reflected two tall figures.

At the reception desk, the attendant looked up—and was momentarily stunned by the two handsome faces suddenly in view.

The one walking in front was tall, with straight long legs. Although simply dressed, he exuded a refined elegance and a noble air that spoke of a prestigious background. His sharp features were softened by a gentle demeanor, giving the impression of someone courteous and easy to talk to—exactly the kind of high-quality guest one hopes for.

The other man’s face was like polished jade, colder than an autumn moon on a wintry night. His eyes, deep and quiet like still water, swept across the room with a detached gaze. Though his expression was blank, it made others instinctively avoid meeting his eyes.

The two of them, one in front and one behind, looked even more striking than celebrities—immediately capturing the attention of everyone in the gallery.

There were very few visitors today—fewer even than the number of staff in the gallery. The spacious hall felt a little empty, and the sudden focus of everyone’s gaze was especially conspicuous. Qin Yan frowned slightly, almost imperceptibly.

Jiang Chi paused in his steps and subtly positioned himself to block everyone’s line of sight from Qin Yan.

Due to strict temperature and humidity requirements for the exhibition, the air conditioning inside was turned up high, counteracting the dampness of the rainy day. The atmosphere was cool and comfortable.

Jiang Chi politely declined the guide’s offer for a tour and slowly walked toward the centerpiece of the exhibit.

It was a richly colored landscape painting titled Mountain Wind.

The artist’s technique was meticulous and disciplined, while the composition was fluid and free. The flow of clouds, trees, and light and shadow conveyed a sense of “wind.” The overall tone was dominated by a deep green, with masterful color blending. The colors were vivid and realistic without appearing messy, instead layering to create a dazzling sense of depth and dimension.

Standing in front of the painting, it truly felt like being immersed in a mountain forest.

Tree shadows swayed, a mountain storm loomed, and the sound of the wind seemed on the verge of bursting forth.

As a pure science-and-engineering guy, Jiang Chi lacked much artistic talent and was still in the vague early stages of appreciating aesthetics.

His review of the painting came down to just two words:

“Looks nice.”

He stretched out his hand, fingers splayed as if to feel something. “It actually feels like there’s wind blowing on me.”

Qin Yan’s gaze shifted to Jiang Chi’s handsome face, and he said with a perfectly serious tone, “Listen closely. You can even hear the wind.”

Jiang Chi thought to himself—Could it really be that magical?

The gallery’s sound system was playing a piano melody. Jiang Chi closed his eyes and listened. Beyond the elegant music, he could faintly hear a whooshing sound, like the wind in his ears.

This was kind of surreal.

He opened his eyes, half believing and half doubting, a bunch of question marks clearly written across his face. “Wait… is this painting in 5D or something?”

Qin Yan tilted his head and looked at Jiang Chi, lifting his chin in a gesture. “Jiang Chi, look up.”

Jiang Chi followed Qin Yan’s cue and looked upward—only to come face-to-face with the central air conditioning vent.

A gentle, cool breeze blew down from above, rustling through the air like cold rain slapping messily against the face.

Jiang Chi: “……”

Qin Yan’s affectionate eyes curved slightly, like a little fox whose scheme had just succeeded. He wagged his metaphorical bushy tail while watching Jiang Chi’s reaction, full of mischief and cunning.

“5D, huh,” Qin Yan said softly. “You’re really imaginative, Jiang Chi.”

Jiang Chi replied with deep sincerity, “Brother, you’ve changed. You’ve gone bad.”

Qin Yan said, “A man is judged by the company he keeps. I learned from you.”

“I’ve got so many good traits—couldn’t you pick the better ones to imitate?” Jiang Chi walked forward slowly. “I’m helpful and kind, too. Why not learn that?”

Qin Yan selectively tuned him out, pretending he hadn’t heard a word—just like how he selectively chose which of Jiang Chi’s social traits to imitate.

The two continued walking through the gallery at a relaxed pace, strolling leisurely through the first half of the exhibition.

Between the exhibit sections was a small café designed for guests to rest.

A server brought over a dessert stand and placed it on the table. It held macarons, sponge pudding, sablé cookies, dark chocolate biscuits, and several other colorful and delicate treats.

Jiang Chi ordered a cup of coffee, while Qin Yan only asked for iced water.

Qin Yan sat in a booth and slowly flipped through an art catalog. “Excessive caffeine intake can reduce insulin sensitivity. You’re so into fitness—don’t you monitor your blood sugar?”

Jiang Chi paused mid-bite into a dessert. Suddenly, the sponge pudding in his hand felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

He put down the silver dessert fork. “These desserts are pretty good here. Not too sweet.”

Not too sweet—the highest compliment one could give to a dessert.

Qin Yan looked at the three-tiered dessert stand. “Really that good?”

Jiang Chi pointed to one of the cookies. “That one’s probably freshly baked. It has crushed pistachios inside. Tastes great.”

Qin Yan rarely ate when he wasn’t hungry, but Jiang Chi’s genuine expression was oddly persuasive—and he found himself tempted.

He picked up a cookie about the size of a game piece and popped it into his mouth.

The cookie melted instantly—chocolate, nuts, and biscuit blended into a richly layered texture. The bitterness of dark chocolate and a hint of sea salt balanced out the sweetness, delivering an exquisite experience for the taste buds.

The sugar activated the dopamine neurons in his brain, bringing a wave of quick and direct pleasure.

Qin Yan’s brows relaxed. “It is really good.”

Jiang Chi once again felt the joy of successfully feeding someone. “Let’s buy some to take home when we leave.”

After sitting in the café for a while, Jiang Chi was ready to head to the back of the gallery to purchase some art supplies. Just then, Qin Yan received a phone call.

Qin Yan gestured to Jiang Chi and said softly, “I’ll take this call outside—meet you in a bit.”

Jiang Chi nodded and walked off to the exhibition hall first.

The booths inside the hall charged exorbitant fees, and the price of art supplies was shockingly high, so customers were always scarce.

When Jiang Chi entered, only a young man in a white shirt was standing in front of the counter.

The salesperson’s eyes lit up when they saw Jiang Chi and eagerly stepped forward to ask, “Hello, sir! Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

Jiang Chi knew nothing about art supplies, but vaguely recalled that this place sold a special kind of linen canvas, a rare item brought in from abroad by the artist Sandro Ivedes, and hard to find domestically.

Jiang Chi said, “Hi, I’m here to buy the canvas Mr. Sandro has on consignment.”

Upon hearing that, the young man who had been browsing canvas paused slightly and looked up at Jiang Chi.

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