Luck Ch.20

Chapter 20: Three-Step Apology Formula

At 4 p.m., Fang Sizhe was so anxious he nearly called the police because he couldn’t reach the three of them—he thought they might have gotten drunk in the middle of the night and fallen into the sea.

The hotel staff were also worried something had happened. After knocking several times without a response, they had no choice but to nervously swipe the keycard and open the door.

Jiang Chi actually had heard the knocking. He even heard Fang Sizhe shouting from outside, “If you don’t open the door, we’re coming in!”

He vaguely remembered replying, “Come on in.”

But later, when he checked with Fang Sizhe and the others, they confirmed that there had been no sound at all from inside the room.

He was probably half-asleep at the time and had replied with his mind.

The moment the door opened, Qin Yan opened his eyes.

His gaze wasn’t even focused—he propped himself up halfway with one arm and reached under the pillow—

Only to find a cellphone.

Jiang Chi lightly patted Qin Yan’s shoulder. “It’s fine, it’s just Fang Sizhe.”

The second he heard Jiang Chi’s voice, Qin Yan closed his eyes again and flopped back down onto the bed.

Jiang Chi: “???”

Fang Sizhe tiptoed into the room, covering his eyes with both hands, peeking through a slit between his middle and ring fingers, muttering, “See no evil, see no evil…”

Jiang Chi casually grabbed a pillow and threw it at him, growling, “Quit acting crazy. We’re still sleeping.”

Fang Sizhe caught the pillow one-handed and whispered, “Did you see Hong Zixiao? He’s missing!”

Jiang Chi jerked his chin toward the footstool, signaling Fang Sizhe to look.

Fang Sizhe lifted the down comforter—and to his shock, there was actually a person underneath!

It was Hong Zixiao!

His eyes were shut tight, completely motionless.

Fang Sizhe gasped in horror. “Did you guys kill Hong Zixiao?!”

Jiang Chi: “…He’s asleep!”

Fang Sizhe gave Jiang Chi a once-over and asked suspiciously, “Why are the three of you sleeping in one bed? Isn’t it cramped?”

Jiang Chi flopped back down and replied casually, “Cramped sleep hits different.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Did you and Hong Zixiao talk crap about me last night?” Fang Sizhe glared, half-jokingly complaining, “Why was he sleeping in your room anyway? So you two are isolating me now? Is there b*llying happening in our brotherhood trio?”

Truths often come out disguised as jokes.

Jiang Chi, Hong Zixiao, and Fang Sizhe had been close since childhood—a solid trio. But in every group of three, two will inevitably be closer.

Fang Sizhe had always been the odd one out. Though they were all best friends, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Jiang Chi and Hong Zixiao shared a tighter bond. And it was true—Hong Zixiao only hung out with him when Jiang Chi ignored him.

During the first two years Fang Sizhe studied abroad, Jiang Chi and Hong Zixiao would still reach out to him. But starting in junior year, it was only Hong Zixiao—Jiang Chi had basically disappeared, unreachable no matter what.

At the time, Fang Sizhe was secretly kind of pleased. He thought maybe he was finally getting promoted in the friendship hierarchy. He tried hinting around to Hong Zixiao, asking if he and Jiang Chi had a falling-out.

Big mistake. Hong Zixiao turned into a full-blown drama queen, whining that Jiang Chi had suddenly “gone gay,” and had been constantly dating ever since—switching boyfriends more often than he changed clothes—and had no time for Hong Zixiao anymore.

So in this whole friendship triangle, Fang Sizhe had always been the backup—neither Jiang Chi’s nor Hong Zixiao’s first choice! As a grown man, he didn’t want to act like some clingy middle school girl, obsessing over this stuff every day.

But it still stung. Especially because in the last couple of years, he and Hong Zixiao had actually been in touch more often—yet Hong Zixiao was still closer to Jiang Chi!

They were supposed to be roommates on this trip, but in the middle of the night, Hong Zixiao had sneaked off to hang out in Jiang Chi’s room—without even inviting him. That kind of thing did hurt Fang Sizhe, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

What made it even worse was how well Jiang Chi, Hong Zixiao, and Jiang Chi’s new friend, this Qin guy, were getting along. They’d only known each other a few days, and they were already so tight they could all sleep in the same bed.

That spot beside Jiang Chi—it was supposed to be his!

Back in middle school and high school, it had always been the three of them—Fang Sizhe, Jiang Chi, and Hong Zixiao. Whenever one of their parents wasn’t home, they’d gather at that house and stay up all night playing games. Once they were exhausted, they’d crash together in the same bed.

But now, it suddenly felt like he didn’t belong anymore.

They had a new friend.

It was way too embarrassing to be jealous between guy friends—but damn, he was really, really sour!!!

Fang Sizhe was taking it hard inside, but he didn’t want to show it on his face. He held it in so much that his cheeks flushed red.

After holding it in for a long time, all he could squeeze out was: “Let me in too.”

Then he walked over and started pushing Jiang Chi, forcing a narrow space for himself at the edge of the bed.

With that push, Jiang Chi was shoved closer to Qin Yan.

They were already sharing one blanket. Now with three people lined up on a two-meter-wide bed—and Hong Zixiao lying sideways at their feet—the bed was seriously overloaded.

Jiang Chi ended up pressed right up against Qin Yan, their shoulders touching. With no room left, he could only lie on his side.

Qin Yan felt Jiang Chi’s breath brush against him. Patiently, he shifted outward a little to make room, then asked groggily, “What’s going on?”

Jiang Chi had nowhere to put his arms, so he let one rest across Qin Yan, blanket and all.

“Fang Sizhe’s having one of his episodes—insists on squeezing in with us.”

Fang Sizhe clicked his tongue, annoyed.

“Oh, so now you’re tattling? I haven’t even said anything about how you three formed a secret little clique and left me out!”

Now fully awake, Qin Yan let out a breath.

The bed was way too crowded. When he shifted slightly, his shoulder bumped against Jiang Chi’s chest. With no other choice, he turned onto his side too—only now, he was completely enveloped in Jiang Chi’s presence, like he was being held in his arms.

They were far too close—well past any socially acceptable distance.

The last time he’d been this physically close to someone… was when Jiang Chi had carried him.

That kind of proximity triggered a gut feeling of danger in Qin Yan. But rationally, he trusted that Jiang Chi wouldn’t hurt him.

Still, his heart was racing. And he didn’t even know why he was panicking.

His thoughts spun wildly—one after another—but they all vanished before he could hold on to anything. In the end, he solved absolutely nothing.

He could only try to calm himself, slowly regulating his breathing to quiet his overactive mind.

Jiang Chi, ever slow on the uptake, didn’t even notice that Qin Yan’s breathing had changed.

He was used to slinging arms around his buddies all day—having two more people in bed didn’t feel weird at all to him.

Back in the dorms, they used to squeeze four guys onto beds barely 90 centimeters wide during card games. Compared to that, a two-meter-wide bed with four people? Totally spacious in his book.

Qin Yan curled up, trying to put some distance between them. He hugged the still-warm hot water bottle to his stomach and, using the motion as cover, shifted closer to the edge of the bed.

But in focusing on moving his upper body away, he forgot about the rest. While his neck and shoulders pulled away, his hips and waist—thanks to the angle—ended up pushing back.

Right into Jiang Chi’s arms.

Jiang Chi could feel Qin Yan’s backside pressing against him.

“You really know how to hog space,” Jiang Chi muttered, raising a hand to steady Qin Yan’s waist and stop him from squirming further. “Your stomach still hurting?”

Qin Yan swallowed unconsciously. “A little.”

Fang Sizhe leaned in, cutting in with a question: “Stomachache? Was the food on the ship off or something?”

Qin Yan shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

From across Jiang Chi, Fang Sizhe kept the conversation going. “So how’d you two meet, anyway?”

Jiang Chi shoved his head away. “Why are you so nosy? Go bother someone else.”

“I’m talking to the handsome one, not you,” Fang Sizhe shot back. Then he looked Jiang Chi up and down and asked, “You two seriously aren’t dating?”

Both Jiang Chi and Qin Yan shook their heads at the same time.

Fang Sizhe thought it over—made sense. If Jiang Chi were trying to get with Qin Yan, would he really let Hong Zixiao be the third wheel?

This was the perfect setup: one bed, the open sea, a cruise, the starry sky—romantic as hell. Bringing Hong Zixiao along? Total mood killer.

So they were probably just good friends.

Fang Sizhe stroked his chin. “So… the Iron Triangle is now an Iron Square?”

Jiang Chi was speechless. “What kind of nonsense are you even talking about?”

Fang Sizhe reached out for a high five with Qin Yan.

“From now on, we’re all brothers. Your stomach still hurting? Want some congee?”

Hanging out with Jiang Chi’s friends felt like being surrounded by a bunch of overly friendly large dogs—chaotic, but warm.

Jiang Chi had a gentle temperament and an excess of empathy, and his friends were much the same—except even more meddlesome. They had to stick their noses into everything, like they couldn’t bear to be left out.

Qin Yan looked at Fang Sizhe’s outstretched hand, confused, and ended up just shaking it.

Fang Sizhe: “……”

Qin Yan sat up in bed.

Jiang Chi followed. “Not sleeping anymore?”

Qin Yan glanced around at the crowded bed, his expression clearly saying: How could anyone sleep like this?

Jiang Chi said, “Hong Zixiao’s still sleeping though.”

“He’s not a normal person.”

Qin Yan’s indifferent gaze swept briefly over Hong Zixiao before landing on Fang Sizhe.

“Neither are you.”

They’d been talking this whole time, and Hong Zixiao hadn’t shown the slightest sign of waking up. And Fang Sizhe—his snoring must’ve been insane to drive Hong Zixiao out of their room begging for refuge.

Qin Yan slipped on his slippers and headed to the bathroom to wash his face, with Jiang Chi trailing behind.

“What about me?” Jiang Chi asked.

Qin Yan looked at him through the round mirror over the sink, and after a moment of thought, said: “You’re gentle and loyal. Like the honorable Prince Liu Xuande.”

Then he tore open a disposable toothbrush, squeezed on some toothpaste, and started brushing.

Being described as “gentle and loyal” was high praise.

Jiang Chi hadn’t even had time to feel flattered when Fang Sizhe yelled from the bedroom: “Wolong and Fengchu—he’s calling us idiots!”

Jiang Chi: “!!!”

Qin Yan’s long eyes showed a rare flicker of surprise. He quickly spat out the foam and apologized at lightning speed: “I was wrong.”

Jiang Chi: “?????”

That apology was way too fast—so fast that Jiang Chi didn’t even have time to react.

From what he remembered, Qin Yan wasn’t the type to back down or admit fault so easily.

Qin Yan turned on the faucet to rinse his mouth and sighed.

“There is a smart one among your friends. I misjudged.”

Jiang Chi: “!!!”

So that’s where I was wrong?!

That was going too far!

Fuming, Jiang Chi threw an arm around Qin Yan’s neck from behind and put him in a mock chokehold.

Qin Yan had just taken a mouthful of water to rinse out the toothpaste and was completely unprepared. As Jiang Chi yanked him back, the sharp sting of mint shot straight down his throat.

Qin Yan choked, coughed violently, and sprayed foam all over Jiang Chi’s face.

Jiang Chi: “……”

…

By evening, the cruise ship had arrived at Jade Green Island in Country Y.

The island was lush with vegetation, like a piece of imperial jade set in the middle of the ocean—hence the name “Jade Green Island.”

The hillsides were blanketed in blooming green roses that flowered year-round. Sea breezes swept inland, stirring up a flurry of falling petals. The blossoms drifted through the air like snow, creating a dreamy, almost otherworldly scene—straight out of an anime. Every casual snapshot looked like a page from a fantasy manga.

As soon as they got off the boat, the girls made a beeline for the duty-free stores.

Since safety abroad wasn’t quite like back home, Jiang Chi and the others naturally followed closely behind, worried that one of the girls might go into a changing room and never come back—snatched away to Myawaddy or something.

Fang Sizhe, acting like a fussy mom, kept warning the girls: “Don’t even bother trying stuff on. Just wait till we’re back in the country to shop. I’ll cover the 20% tax myself if it’s that serious.”

Fang Siyue rolled her eyes at her older brother.

“Who comes to Jade Green Island to buy clothes? I’m here for rose oil, hot springs, and spa treatments!”

So Fang Sizhe and Hong Zixiao ended up tagging along with the girls to the spa, while the rest split into smaller groups to wander the duty-free area and do some shopping.

Jiang Chi and Qin Yan were tasked with picking up rose essential oil, and the two of them walked side by side into the specialty rose products section.

The island’s rose goods were world-renowned—on par with Damascus roses and Provence lavender.

The rose essential oil from Jade Green Island had recently become a hot commodity, especially popular among socialites. But due to its extremely limited production, it was never exported—people either had to find a reseller or come to the island themselves to buy it.

At the mall elevator, Jiang Chi politely declined a male sales associate who offered to spray perfume on him. He took the scent strip instead and gave it a quick wave under his nose but couldn’t pick up anything as enchanting as advertised.

“Do you smell anything special?” Jiang Chi fiddled with the scent strip. “Maybe I’m just too rough. You’re the refined one—give it a sniff.”

Qin Yan gave him a helpless glance. “What do you mean I’m refined?”

Jiang Chi leaned on the elevator handrail and looked Qin Yan up and down in his sharp, tailored suit. He tilted his chin toward the rest of the mall. “Who dresses this sharp on vacation? All clean-cut, buttoned up—you’re more eye-catching than the celebrities filming MVs here. Haven’t you noticed people keep looking at you?”

As the head of the Qin family, Qin Yan was used to attention. Compared to his usual life, traveling incognito with Jiang Chi was already a rare moment of peace.

He said honestly, “They’re just looking. The fact no one’s come over to talk is already a relief.”

Jiang Chi: “…”

Standing one step higher on the escalator, Jiang Chi reached over and pinched Qin Yan’s cheek. “Didn’t realize you were this full of yourself. It’s bad enough you know you’re good-looking, but do you have to say it out loud just to piss people off?”

Qin Yan frowned slightly as they stepped off the escalator together. “I don’t think I look particularly good. It’s just that the people who come talk to me—”

Before he could finish, a tall blonde woman with a high ponytail walked over blushing and, in English, asked Qin Yan for his phone number.

Qin Yan: “……”

Jiang Chi crossed his arms and leaned against the glass railing, watching with amusement.

Qin Yan politely declined her dinner invitation, then looked up—only to meet Jiang Chi’s teasing gaze.

Jiang Chi raised his eyebrows. “Well? What did I tell you.”

Qin Yan walked over to Jiang Chi and said, “You’re handsome too. Let’s go.”

Jiang Chi slung an arm around Qin Yan’s shoulder. “Ah, little Ji Yu, no wonder you’re the protagonist of this world—wherever you go, people can’t stop staring. I remember there was a scene in the book where you went on vacation abroad with the protagonist gong, and someone asked you for your number. The protagonist gong got super jealous and angry. Good thing I’m broad-minded—if I were him, you’d be in trouble tonight.”

By now, Qin Yan had started treating the “protagonist gong” like an entirely separate person. He no longer felt awkward hearing Jiang Chi talk about the plot, nor did he, like when they first met, naively ask about what happened next.

Qin Yan replied casually, “If he gets angry that easily, there’s not much I can do.”

Jiang Chi said, “You really have no idea how to comfort someone. You know that line could trigger a full-blown emotional eruption in a relationship, right?”

Qin Yan looked innocently at Jiang Chi, his beautiful phoenix eyes cool and indifferent, devoid of emotion or desire, clearly saying one rebellious thing:

‘Why should I know how to comfort anyone?’

Jiang Chi stared back at Qin Yan, silently trying to melt this iceberg with compassion and empathy.

Qin Yan shifted his gaze, a little uncomfortable, and pretended to humbly ask for advice: “Then what should I say?”

Jiang Chi prompted gently, “What’s the third love tip I taught you?”

Qin Yan had excellent memory and recited almost word for word: “Love Tip No.03: When the other person is angry, avoid direct confrontation. It’s okay to show some vulnerability—try acting cute, or call him Husband.”

Jiang Chi encouraged him, “So if you’re married in the future and this happens, what should you say?”

Qin Yan was a quick learner, good at drawing inferences. He instantly came up with several variations in his head, but still hesitated, uncertain which was the right answer.

Whether it was acting cute or calling someone husband, both felt difficult for Qin Yan.

Jiang Chi waited for a while. Seeing Qin Yan hesitating and staring at him blankly—like a schoolkid being called on by the teacher but not knowing the answer—he realized this might be a bit tough for Qin Yan. So he said, “Forget it. It’s okay if you don’t know yet, you can learn slowly. I’m not great at acting cute either.”

Qin Yan immediately frowned, doubtful. “You don’t know how to act cute? If you have no practical experience, I question the credibility of your theory.”

Jiang Chi clicked his tongue. “What do you know, you’ve never even dated anyone. Do you know how many relationships I’ve been in?”

Qin Yan’s arrogance wavered a little. He begrudgingly acknowledged Jiang Chi’s point and tried to extract a universal answer: “Then what do you usually say when your boyfriend gets mad?”

Jiang Chi scratched his chin and figured starting with an apology was foolproof. “First, I say ‘Sorry, I was wrong.’”

Qin Yan hadn’t expected such a simple universal answer and followed up, “And if just saying ‘I was wrong’ doesn’t work?”

Jiang Chi’s expression blanked for a second. He muttered to himself, “I already said I was wrong and that’s still not enough? Dating is too damn hard.”

Qin Yan didn’t realize Jiang Chi was talking to himself—he thought it was a serious answer. Silently, he noted down the “correct” response:

[Step 1: Say ‘Sorry, I was wrong.’

Step 2: Say ‘I already said I was wrong, what more do you want? Dating is too hard.’]

Summary: First apologize, then emphasize the difficulty.

Suddenly, it all clicked for Qin Yan: Isn’t this the same tactic regional managers use when reporting failed projects?

When a project fails, the regional manager always begins with a sincere apology, then details the challenges, clarifying that the problem lies not with the team, but with the inherent difficulty of the project itself. The hardships are objective facts, and everyone did their best. They know the result is hard to accept and feel deeply regretful.

So, although interpersonal relationships and project reporting may seem completely unrelated, in truth, they share common ground. Once you master this approach, it’ll greatly benefit your career in the long run.

Riding the momentum, Qin Yan pressed Jiang Chi, “Is there anything else I should say?”

It was the first time Jiang Chi had seen Qin Yan so eager to learn. But truth be told, Jiang Chi had never been in a relationship either—he was worried he’d steer Qin Yan wrong. So he quickly changed the subject: “Let’s talk about that next time.”

He held the perfume sample card up to Qin Yan’s nose. “Smell this rose perfume. Do you like it? We can get a bottle to take back.”

As Qin Yan leaned in to sniff the white sample card, he mentally took notes on the Three-Step Apology Formula:

Step 1: I’m sorry, I was wrong. (Sincere apology)

Step 2: I already admitted I was wrong, what more do you want? Dating / making friends / this job is just too hard. (State the difficulty)

Step 3: Forget it, let’s talk about this another time. (Change the subject + offer a gift or distraction)

Qin Yan nodded in satisfaction. “Very good.”

Jiang Chi assumed Qin Yan was referring to the perfume card. He withdrew his hand, glanced at the logo to confirm the brand, and said, “If you like it, let’s buy a few bottles.”

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