Luck Ch.21

Chapter 21: Cutting Ties

This aromatherapy store was named Emerald Factory, and the line outside was even longer than those in front of many luxury brand boutiques.

A large purchasing guide sign stood in front of the store, introducing their rose essential oils in multiple languages. It also informed customers that each person was limited to purchasing two bottles, no samples were allowed, and the most limited edition oil was currently out of stock.

The limited edition oil, called Dark Rose – Polar Night, was made using the most precious green rose extract. Only eighty bottles were produced per year, exclusively for the royal family of Country Y. If even one bottle made it to the store in a month, that was already considered fortunate.

Despite the strict purchasing conditions, buyers’ enthusiasm remained undiminished.

Jiang Chi pointed at the poster. “My mom called me several times when she found out I was coming to Jade Green Island. She asked me to buy this limited edition one, but it looks like it’s sold out—it says so right there.”

Qin Yan took out a black-and-gold card from his wallet. “We can get it.”

The store clerk paused when she saw the card, then gave a slight bow and invited Qin Yan and Jiang Chi inside the store.

The people in line began complaining loudly, but another staff member quickly explained in English, “This guest is an esteemed Black Diamond member. The Island provides priority service to our VIP clients. Thank you for your understanding.”

Another clerk softly asked Qin Yan if he wanted the store cleared out.

Jiang Chi: “?”

Qin Yan replied that it wasn’t necessary and entered the aromatherapy store with Jiang Chi.

Inside the SVP reception room, four staff members attended exclusively to them. They warmly invited the two to sit on a sofa and relax. Not only were exquisite refreshments brought out, but over a dozen types of rose essential oils were laid out across the table.

One of the store clerks gently adjusted the silk scarf at her neck, then half-knelt beside Qin Yan and asked in a soft voice which essential oil he’d like to try first.

Jiang Chi: “…”

Weren’t samples not allowed?

Qin Yan pointed at Jiang Chi. The clerk smiled at Jiang Chi, opened a product catalog, and asked again in English which one he’d like to try.

Jiang Chi leaned back a little and asked Qin Yan, “What’s going on—are you a member of this store?”

Qin Yan raised his hand slightly, and the four clerks gave a slight bow before leaving the SVP reception room, waiting outside for further instructions.

“The Qin family owns shares in Jade Green Island.”

Qin Yan handed the black-and-gold card to Jiang Chi. “Here, take it. With this card, you don’t need to queue for anything on Jade Green Island, and there are no purchase limits.”

Jiang Chi was stunned. “Where did you get this?”

Qin Yan thought for a moment, then made up an excuse. “Part of the Qin family’s betrothal gift.”

That actually made sense.

Marriages among wealthy families were often a way to exchange privileges. A membership card to Jade Green Island might be just a card to the Qin family, but in another family’s hands, it symbolized status—especially when vacationing here. Flashing that card was a real power move.

Though Jiang Chi wasn’t one to crave privilege, he had to admit—enjoying privilege really did feel good.

Jiang Chi didn’t care much about limited-edition essential oils himself, but his mother had always loved these kinds of products. She believed they were natural and pure—safe and free from pollution.

Especially this particular limited edition: Dark Rose – Polar Night.

All that marketing—“extracted from tens of thousands of petals to make a single drop,” “the pure beauty of nature,” “only a few dozen bottles produced each year”—it stacked up like a series of irresistible buffs, hitting every luxury-loving lady right in the heart.

Qin Yan called over a clerk to inquire and was told that although they didn’t currently have it in stock, to meet the needs of their Black Diamond clients, they would immediately contact the supplier and have three bottles of Dark Rose – Polar Night rushed in.

Jiang Chi lowered his head and sent a WeChat message to his mother: “Mom’s going to be thrilled with this.”

Since they were already here, he figured he might as well go all out. In addition to the three bottles of the limited-edition Dark Rose – Polar Night, Jiang Chi bought two bottles of every other essential oil. Half were shipped back to China, and the other half he took with him to share with friends.

Qin Yan had no interest in any of these products—he didn’t take a single bottle and told Jiang Chi to give them to whoever he liked.

The two of them walked out of the store carrying four large paper bags, drawing the gaze of nearly everyone in line outside.

Jiang Chi couldn’t help but sigh, “The Qin family really is both rich and powerful.”

Qin Yan replied modestly, “It’s nothing much, we just happen to own shares in Jade Green Island.”

After regaining his memories of this world, Jiang Chi came to understand that the Qin family truly held immense power and influence—fully deserving of the phrase “top-tier elite family” as described in the original novel. Their business holdings were spread all over the globe, with less than 20% located in the domestic market.

Yet even that fifth of their industry in China was enough to rival other powerful families. Not only in Wuchuan, but even in the capital Beijing, the Qin family held a dominant position.

Over the past two decades, rapid economic growth had transformed countless industries—hot trends came and went at lightning speed. Most elite families scrambled to adapt their businesses to these trends, but only the Qin family was creating them.

Before tourist hotspots like the Maldives or Hawaii had even entered mainstream awareness among the Chinese, the Qin family had already invested in Jade Green Island, aiming to develop an even newer, hotter destination. They successfully created a world-renowned “Rose Paradise,” which became one of the most popular and picturesque social media destinations globally.

Jiang Chi and Qin Yan dropped their shopping bags off at the hotel. By the time they came out again, night had already fallen.

Fang Sizhe messaged in the group chat—they were all at Shifang Street.

Shifang Street was a Chinese cultural street, modeled after the wildly popular Tang Dynasty Never-Sleep City back home. It recreated a traditional Chinese ancient town in a foreign land, delivering a top-tier immersive tourism experience. It attracted not only many Chinese tourists but also a significant number of foreigners curious about ancient Chinese culture.

For many countries, getting a Chinese visa was difficult, but Jade Green Island’s visa was much easier to obtain.

At 8 p.m., night fully settled in.

Shifang Street was lively and bustling. Lanterns of all kinds hung along both sides of the road, flutes played softly, and dazzling lights lit up the night like a sea of stars.

Beneath red walls and green-tiled roofs, vendors shouted their wares while crowds bustled through the street. Many people were dressed in hanfu—traditional Chinese clothing—including quite a few blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigners. Stepping into the ancient-style street felt like stepping back into the grandeur of the Tang Dynasty, when emissaries from all nations came to pay tribute.

At the entrance hung a large plaque with four golden characters painted on it: Prosperous Chang’an.

It was under this plaque that Jiang Chi met up with Hong Zixiao and the others.

Fang Siyue was dressed in a pink hanfu with a ruqun (skirted ensemble), her hair styled in twin buns, with delicate willow-leaf eyebrows drawn in and a decorative floral sticker adorning her forehead. She was crouched by the roadside, waiting for a makeup artist to finish doing Li Youyou’s hair, fanning herself rapidly with an embroidered round fan—so fast it even messed up her bangs.

Hong Zixiao and the guys hadn’t changed into traditional outfits, but each of them held a folding fan they had apparently bought from a nearby stall. They had even brought one each for Jiang Chi and Qin Yan.

One fan had the words “Charming and Elegant” written on it; the other read “Graceful as a Jade Tree in the Wind.”

Jiang Chi held the fan, knocked it lightly against his palm, and said, “You two really think highly of us, huh.”

“You guys are the face of our travel group,” Hong Zixiao said, waving his own fan. “Fang Siyue and the girls want to check out the street food. Fang Sizhe has to watch his sister, so they’re not coming with us. I saw a Sichuan hotpot place up ahead. How about that?”

Hotpot was one of those dishes with a reliably high floor—even if it wasn’t great, it was hard to completely mess up. The group traveled abroad often and had little faith in the way foreign chefs made Chinese food. Whenever they didn’t know what to eat, hotpot was the default—it never failed.

Jiang Chi said, “You guys go ahead. Young Master Qin had a stomachache this morning, and he doesn’t eat spicy food either. We’ll stroll around and grab something else.”

Only then did Hong Zixiao remember Qin Yan’s stomach issue. He said, “If it gets worse, just head back to the hotel and ask the kitchen to make him some congee. The stuff from these food stalls is half-Chinese, half-Western, and not quite either. I even saw someone putting caviar sauce on grilled cold noodles. Be careful what you let him eat.”

…

As night fully descended, the temperature hadn’t yet dropped. Jiang Chi opened his folding fan and began fanning himself to cool off—finally understanding why the guys each had one.

He and Qin Yan had just come out of an air-conditioned shopping mall and hadn’t initially noticed the heat, but after standing outside for a few minutes, sweat was already forming on the tip of his nose.

Jiang Chi wasn’t particularly sensitive to heat, but Jade Green Island’s climate was very different from Wuchuan’s. It wasn’t that it was extremely hot—it was just humid and stuffy, the kind of weather that made you feel like you were sweating in a sauna.

Qin Yan didn’t handle heat well either. He took off his outer jacket and draped it over his arm, then unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, revealing a slender, elegant neckline.

Jiang Chi said, “Let’s find a restaurant with air conditioning. It’ll cool off after nine.”

Qin Yan had no objection and followed Jiang Chi toward the food street.

They passed a snack stall with a line stretching nearly fifty meters. As they approached, they saw it was a barbecue stall with a sign that read: Northeastern Giant Kidneys.

Jiang Chi asked curiously, “Can the Black Diamond Card get us to the front of the line here too?”

Qin Yan chuckled. “Probably not.”

Jiang Chi sighed in disappointment. “So even Jade Green Island has places where privilege doesn’t reach. With this many people in line, it’s gotta be delicious. But that queue is way too long.”

They continued strolling forward. Food stalls lined both sides of the street, and every single one smelled incredible.

Fresh squid sizzled on hot iron plates with a loud tsssss as it cooked. The aroma of grilled squid wafted far down the street, and even from half a block away, the scent of chili sauce and cumin was unmistakable.

This was a kind of street-level, everyday liveliness that Qin Yan had never really experienced before.

He felt relaxed and content, as if even the smallest things were worth sharing.

Qin Yan said, “We could pick a Northeastern Chinese restaurant. I’ve realized something since I got back to China—any dish with the word ‘Northeastern’ in it is guaranteed to be good.”

Jiang Chi stopped walking and paused in place. “What did you just say?”

Qin Yan turned slightly and tapped his fan toward the stall labeled Northeastern Giant Kidneys. “I said: any food with ‘Northeastern’ in the name is guaranteed to taste good.”

Jiang Chi’s voice turned cold as he stared at Qin Yan. “Not that sentence.”

Qin Yan paused. “Pick a Northeastern restaurant?”

Jiang Chi looked at him with a complicated expression, as if he’d just uncovered something hidden deep in plain sight. “Still not that one.”

A tightness gripped Qin Yan’s chest, and his breath caught for a moment. “Then… which one?”

Jiang Chi glanced around, then grabbed Qin Yan by the wrist and pulled him to a quieter spot away from the crowd.

He snapped, voice sharp and accusing: “You said ‘after returning to China.’ What the hell do you mean by returning to China?”

Qin Yan: “!!!”

In that instant, Qin Yan felt like he’d plunged into an ice bath. Despite the sweltering 34°C heat, cold sweat broke out all over his body.

Of course. He’d always lived abroad—but Ji Yu, the person he was pretending to be, was from Hong Kong. Why would he say “after returning to China”?

Jiang Chi had never doubted that Qin Yan was Ji Yu. Not even the hastily scribbled “nine-tailed fox” had shaken that belief. So why—why now, over such a trivial detail—had Jiang Chi suddenly sensed something was off?

Qin Yan hadn’t been particularly careful about hiding his identity. In fact, he’d intentionally left Jiang Chi a trail of clues. Deep down, he knew the day would come when Jiang Chi would realize something was wrong.

He couldn’t pretend to be Ji Yu forever.

Part of him had always looked forward to meeting Jiang Chi as his real self—but another part feared that Jiang Chi would be furious at having been deceived.

And now, faced with Jiang Chi’s piercing gaze and icy question, Qin Yan found himself speechless.

Jiang Chi had striking, handsome features and a sharply defined jawline. Most of the time, his eyes were gentle, making him seem harmless.

But the moment his expression cooled, an intense aura radiated from between his brows—like a blade unsheathed, stabbing straight through, leaving no room for resistance.

The red glow of the lanterns above did nothing to soften his features. If anything, it made the chill in his gaze all the more lethal.

Qin Yan instinctively lowered his voice, offering a weak explanation: “I used to live abroad…”

Jiang Chi’s brows furrowed, eyes sharp as daggers: “Where abroad?”

Qin Yan answered honestly, “Cambridge. I went to university there.”

Jiang Chi’s tension eased, the killing aura melting away. “So, you came back to China from Cambridge—not from Hong Kong to Wuchuan.”

“…Yeah,” Qin Yan replied, a bit lost, then asked cautiously, “Why does that matter? Why were you so angry?”

Jiang Chi lowered his gaze slightly, staring at the rain-washed stone path beneath their feet. “When you said ‘after returning to China’… I thought you were referring to coming from Hong Kong to the mainland.”

Qin Yan: “…”

And just like that, understanding dawned—and the weight crushing Qin Yan’s chest vanished.

The air between them felt breathable again.

Qin Yan looked at Jiang Chi, a thousand words catching in his throat before he finally managed: “You actually would rather believe I’m a separatist…”

‘Than even consider I might not be Ji Yu at all.’

Jiang Chi’s eyes were clear as spring water, so transparent they left nothing hidden.

He reaffirmed his stance, firmly: “If you were one of those, I’d cut ties with you immediately.”

“I’m obviously not!”

Qin Yan relaxed completely, a faint smile on his lips: “First time I’ve seen you with a cold face—quite fierce, huh?”

Jiang Chi had indeed been stern with Qin Yan just now. When dealing with enemies, one should be as ruthless as autumn winds sweeping away fallen leaves!

But Jiang Chi was the type to act first and not look back, sticking to his denial with justification.

“I wasn’t being fierce,” Jiang Chi said.

Seeing Jiang Chi refuse to admit it, Qin Yan took Jiang Chi’s hand and placed it on his chest: “The evidence is right here. If you weren’t being fierce, why would my heart be beating so fast?”

Beneath Jiang Chi’s palm, a powerful heartbeat pulsed.

Thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump.

Indeed, it was fast.

This heartbeat traveled up Jiang Chi’s palm, racing through his pulse, coursing through his veins to his limbs. His own heart began to follow the rhythm, out of sync with its usual pace.

Jiang Chi swallowed lightly, his voice a little dry: “Fast heartbeat… maybe it’s because you’ve done something bad.”

The heart beneath his palm gave an extra, powerful thump, as if it might leap out of Qin Yan’s chest and into Jiang Chi’s hand.

Jiang Chi looked down at Qin Yan, and Qin Yan met his gaze.

The night was clear and cool, the moonlight soft and bright.

The moonlight, like water, was hazy, like layers of thin silk, casting a gentle glow around their faces. It was as if they were suspended in a dreamlike painting, more beautiful than a fleeting reflection, more real than any illusion.

The bustling streets and noise seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of their heartbeats, like a race, and neither could tell whose heartbeat was faster.

Thump, thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump, thump.

The beats seemed to urge them on, like the beating of war drums.

Jiang Chi, as if under a spell, lowered his head and stared into Qin Yan’s eyes.

Qin Yan’s gaze flickered, and from the dark depths of his pupils, Jiang Chi saw his own reflection.

The two were so close now that Jiang Chi could feel Qin Yan’s breath.

Qin Yan’s breath was cool.

The faint color of his lips also looked cool.

As their breaths intertwined, Jiang Chi didn’t retreat, and neither did Qin Yan.

In this narrow path, neither of them was willing to give way, stubbornly staring into each other’s eyes.

Jiang Chi’s slight competitive spirit suddenly surged at that moment, as if they were playing some childish, pointless game—whoever blinked first would lose.

The dim lights flickered, and their two slender shadows grew closer and closer.

Closer and closer.

Bang! —

A loud explosion erupted by their ears!

Jiang Chi snapped back to his senses, thinking that his heart had exploded from nervousness.

Fireworks bloomed in the sky, violet-blue sparks scattered and fell, and the sky glittered like a river of stars.

It was the time for fireworks.

It wasn’t that his heart had exploded, which was a relief.

Taking a deep breath, Jiang Chi’s attention returned to Qin Yan’s face.

Qin Yan’s features were extraordinarily handsome, his skin almost poreless, like a piece of fine cold jade. He could withstand close inspection, and even the most meticulous person couldn’t find a single flaw.

The flickering light, bright and dim, reflected on his jade-like face, adding a rare warmth to his appearance.

As the fireworks erupted, colorful lights filled the night sky.

The cheers of the crowd rose and fell, and all the tourists looked up, lost in the grandeur of the fireworks show.

But Jiang Chi and Qin Yan, as if waking from a deep dream, suddenly snapped back to reality.

The two averted their gazes and simultaneously stepped back half a step, creating a distance that could hardly be considered safe—

They had been standing too close before, their hands still clasped together.

The dazzling fireworks sparkled like daylight, bursting one after another in the sky.

On the walking street of Shengshi Chang’an, nearly everyone was looking up at the fireworks, but Jiang Chi and Qin Yan pushed through the crowd, speaking in whispers amidst the intermittent sound of firecrackers, words that only the other could hear.

Jiang Chi’s palm was too hot, so much so that it made Qin Yan’s fingers curl slightly. Qin Yan wanted to loosen his grip, but Jiang Chi instead gripped his hand tighter.

The moonlight tonight was beautiful, and the fireworks were beautiful too.

But if one were alone, the cold moon would feel lonely, and the fireworks would seem desolate.

“On the night when Shifang Street opened, they also set off a lot of fireworks on Jade Green Island,” Qin Yan said.

He wasn’t sure what he was trying to express; he just suddenly thought of it, so he said it.

“I’ve heard a little about it,” Jiang Chi replied.

That night, Jade Green Island set off $50 million worth of fireworks, visible from hundreds of miles away from the cruise ships. Nine thousand sky lanterns floated in the Pacific Ocean, and the entire sky was as bright as day.

At that time, Qin Yan, as an investor, had been invited to Jade Green Island. He had no companions, sitting alone on the best observation deck on the island, taking in the entire view of Jade Green Island’s scenery.

He didn’t think the fireworks were particularly beautiful then. More often, he had his eyes lowered, quietly staring at the endless, pitch-black sea.

The bustling crowd and all the worldly prosperity had nothing to do with him.

But today, Qin Yan found the fireworks beautiful.

It turned out that having a friend was so important.

With someone by his side, even the fleeting moments of beauty had color.

He should have met Jiang Chi earlier.

If Jiang Chi had been there that night when Shifang Street opened, the fireworks and the lanterns in the sky would have been just as beautiful.

Qin Yan felt a little regretful, belatedly realizing, “I missed the fireworks that night.”

Jiang Chi wrapped his arm around Qin Yan’s shoulder, their heads leaning together like brothers as they both looked up at the sky. “What’s there to regret? Wait for the five-year anniversary or the ten-year anniversary, they’ll definitely hold events again. We can come back then.”

Qin Yan slightly tilted his head, catching the faint scent of rose on Jiang Chi’s neck.

His voice was soft. “Maybe by then, you’ll have cut ties with me.”

Jiang Chi teased, “You’re not a separatist, why would I cut ties with you?”

Qin Yan’s tone was firm. “Of course, I’ll always stick to the principle of one nation.”

For things that Qin Yan believed were absolutely his, he was used to laying out the stakes openly.

It was like negotiating business. To gain friends, one had to show enough sincerity.

Qin Yan knew what kind of qualities Jiang Chi admired, so he set aside his usual detached and selfish nature, and somewhat insincerely said:

“I’ll try to be more compassionate, help the weak as much as I can, whether it’s people or other small animals… just like you said, connect more with the world.”

Qin Yan paused for a moment, applying his negotiation skills to the fullest. “So… if, and I mean if, I weren’t the protagonist, would you still be friends with me?”

Jiang Chi swayed his fan, without hesitation. “Of course.”

Qin Yan fell silent for a while, regretting that he had promised too much.

<< _ >>

**TN

Mm. Propaganda? I understand that authors had to add this element but… still. What do you mean Jiang Chi would cut ties with Qin Yan just because he was from HK? What? You mean you won’t “save” him from his tragic end anymore? Like you’re okay with him dying? IDK. I suddenly lost interest. Jiang Chi’s character suddenly collapsed.

Tbh, I even considered editing or just erasing the whole section but… sigh. Damn. Should I continue?