Chapter 3: Desensitization Therapy Begins

Chapter 3: Desensitization Therapy Begins

In the evening, Gu Hansheng arrived downstairs as promised. Zhao Yu wore the scarf he had given him, with the trench coat he had left last time draped over his arm.

For their second meeting, Zhao Yu acted much more naturally than before, smiling as he said, "Here, your trench coat. I had it dry-cleaned."

"No need to be so polite." Gu Hansheng took the coat and opened the passenger door for him.

The car was filled with a subtle, cool fragrance. Zhao Yu found himself alone with him in the small space, so nervous he forgot to buckle his seatbelt. Gu Hansheng leaned over to help him fasten it, his figure almost enveloping Zhao Yu.

Zhao Yu pressed himself back into the seat, wishing he could melt into it. He wasn't homophobic, but accepting the intentional closeness of a man required more mental preparation.

Fortunately, Gu Hansheng was gracious and didn't take the opportunity for any intimate gestures.

"What's wrong? Not in a good mood today?" Gu Hansheng asked.

He was too perceptive—Zhao Yu's nervousness didn't escape him.

"No, just a bit nervous," Zhao Yu said. This was the plan he'd worked out with Zhou Lan: since he couldn't hide his nerves, he wouldn't even try.

"Why?" Gu Hansheng asked again.

"I don't know. I just get a little nervous when I'm with you."

Gu Hansheng chuckled. "Why didn't you ever mention that? Do I seem that hard to get along with?"

"We didn't know each other that well before. You're the general manager of a big company, and I'm just a student. I'm scared that..." Zhao Yu trailed off.

His awkwardness was just right—Gu Hansheng couldn't find anything to question.

"Afraid I'll give you homework?" Gu Hansheng joked.

Zhao Yu laughed, and the awkward tension finally lifted.

The Maybach cruised through the busy streets and stopped outside a high-end Western restaurant. Gu Hansheng tossed the keys to the valet and led Zhao Yu inside.

Soft, elegant piano music played in the restaurant, and the decor screamed class. It was exactly the kind of place Chen Xitong would love. Zhao Yu wasn't used to this. His life was pure chaos, and stepping in here made him feel like a total outsider.

After they were seated, Gu Hansheng handed him the menu: "Take a look and see what you want."

Zhao Yu opened the menu and strictly followed Chen Xitong's preferences: "A medium-well steak, a garden salad, no onions." He handed the menu back to Gu Hansheng.

"You'd probably like their signature dish." Gu Hansheng flipped to the first page and looked up at him: "Cream of mushroom soup. Wanna try it?"

Zhao Yu's face changed slightly. Chen Xitong loved mushrooms, but Zhao Yu hated them just as much. But Gu Hansheng knew Chen Xitong's tastes well, which put Zhao Yu in a tough spot. After a beat, he said, "Okay, I'll try it."

The restaurant was too bright, making Zhao Yu feel exposed, like he couldn't hide anything. He half-listened to Gu Hansheng chat with the waiter, then turned to stare at the river view outside.

Tuotu Tower loomed across the river, its rooftop logo impossible to miss—and it was just one subsidiary under the Gu family's umbrella.

Zhao Yu had seen the Tuotu logo overseas too. Back then, he'd sit on the curb, too banged up from fights to go home, staring blankly as Tuotu delivery trucks rolled past. The mascot on the trucks gave a thumbs up, like it was mocking his messed-up life.

He never thought he'd end up tied to someone from Tuotu, let alone one of its heirs.

While Zhao Yu stared at Tuotu Tower, Gu Hansheng watched him, studying his face. He hadn't gotten a good look last time, but now he could see clearly—same features, same bright smile, yet something felt different. A strange, unnameable feeling nagged at Gu Hansheng.

"I heard you took a leave of absence from school. What's going on?" Gu Hansheng asked.

"My mom's company hit some trouble, and I couldn't focus in class, so I figured I'd take a year off to clear my head."

Zhao Yu casually brought up Chen Li's company, but Gu Hansheng didn't bite. He simply said, "Don't worry. If you're feeling down, take a break. What matters is finishing school. I can help with money. Whether it's a concert or studying abroad, just say the word."

Gu Hansheng was generous, sure, but only with Chen Xitong. He couldn't care less about Chen Li's fate. Zhao Yu knew those two didn't get along, so he dropped it: "Thanks. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"No need to repay me. Just be happy, that's all." Gu Hansheng looked at him. "I like watching you smile."

Zhao Yu smiled, but the guy's words gave him goosebumps—this "playboy" definitely knew what he was doing.

As they talked, the appetizer came out. A little porcelain bowl held the cream of mushroom soup. Zhao Yu's eyelids twitched hard as he put the lid back on.

"Not a fan?" Gu Hansheng asked.

"It's a little hot," Zhao Yu said.

The waiter chimed in, "Sir, the soup is at the perfect temperature. Letting it cool will ruin the flavor."

Butt out!

Zhao Yu cursed in his head, then smiled. "Alright, got it."

He lifted the lid, stirred the soup reluctantly, and took a sip while Gu Hansheng watched him closely.

The rich mushroom taste and thick texture nearly made Zhao Yu gag the second it hit his tongue.

"Do you like it?" Gu Hansheng asked.

Zhao Yu swallowed fast and flashed a bright smile. "Love it. No wonder it's their signature."

"There's another place that does mushroom soup differently. I'll take you there next time."

"Sounds great!"

Zhao Yu clenched his fist and forced down most of the soup, his stomach doing flips. By the time the steak came, he couldn't take it anymore. "I need to use the bathroom."

He walked calmly to the last stall, dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, and puked everything up. He grabbed his phone and texted Zhou Lan: SOS.

Zhou Lan: What happened?

Zhao Yu: I can't eat another bite. I'm gonna puke. Think of something quick.

Zhou Lan: Wait for my call.

He went back to the table, and three minutes later, Zhou Lan called. Zhao Yu answered, listened for a second, then said to Gu Hansheng, "Something urgent came up at home. I might have to go now."

"What's so urgent that it can't wait until after you've eaten?" Gu Hansheng's brow furrowed for a second, annoyed at whoever was interrupting their dinner.

His intensity caught Zhao Yu off guard, but Gu Hansheng quickly softened. "Fine, if it's urgent, I'll drive you back." It was clear he'd let Zhao Yu get away with anything.

On the way home, Gu Hansheng ordered takeout from a fancy restaurant for him. As Zhao Yu got out of the car, Gu Hansheng reminded him, "No matter what happens, make sure you eat, okay?"

"Mm. Got it. Thanks, Mr. Gu."

"Mr. Gu?" Gu Hansheng raised an eyebrow, amused. "I'm not your boss. Just call me by my name."

Zhao Yu's lips moved a few times, but he couldn't bring himself to say something as cheesy as "Hansheng." He said, "Then I'll call you... Brother. Is that okay?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Night, bro."

Gu Hansheng watched him hurry through the door, rubbing his chin, mulling over the way he'd said "bro." It was the first time he'd heard him say it—fresh, like a light tickle against his heart—distant, yet somehow pulling at him. Unlike before, yet it hooked him.

As soon as Zhao Yu got home, he stuck his fingers down his throat and threw up everything still in his stomach, then rinsed his mouth several times. Zhou Lan asked, worried, "You're not allergic to mushrooms, are you?"

"Not allergic, just can't stand the taste." Zhao Yu splashed water on his face and laughed at his own ragged reflection. "What rotten luck."

"But Gu Hansheng knows Xitong likes mushrooms, so there's no way around eating with him in the future."

"Then what do I do? I was at my limit today. Next time, I might end up puking right in front of him."

Zhou Lan looked at his pale lips and couldn't bring himself to push it. "Let's talk about it tomorrow. Get some rest tonight."

"Oh, aren't you the one always saying 'never put off till tomorrow what you can do today'?"

"I'm not a dictator. You'd be better off hitting the shower than running your mouth."

...

That night, lying in bed, Zhao Yu's churning stomach finally calmed down. He pulled out his old phone and checked the message from Meng Qi.

Meng Qi: Mom woke up today, but she's still a bit confused. When she heard you were going to pay for her surgery, she got pretty worked up—probably doesn't want to be a burden to you.

Zhao Yu: I've always thought of Aunt Guo as family. Just go pay the bill directly and don't tell her, okay?

Meng Qi: Okay. But even if the surgery succeeds, the follow-up treatment costs are a money pit. Bro, I don't wanna go to school anymore. I'll go make money too.

Zhao Yu: Drop out to do what? Wash dishes? That pay is chump change. If your mom found out, she'd be so mad she'd probably die of anger. Leave the money to me, and you just focus on school.

Meng Qi: But where are you getting all that money? You're not hitting up loan sharks, are you?

Zhao Yu: My mom's loaded. If I ask, she'll hand it over. Don't overthink it.

Meng Qi: Then does she treat you well?

Zhao Yu paused, then lifted his heavy fingers to type back: She treats me very well.

Putting down the phone, Zhao Yu found himself unable to sleep. Reality is always heavier than you imagine—and people's kindness always comes with strings attached. Sometimes a bitter feeling crept into his chest—envious of Chen Xitong's life and all the people who loved him. But shaking it off, he'd bury those feelings deep down and keep facing his own reality.

The next morning, when Zhou Lan arrived at the apartment, Zhao Yu was messing around in the kitchen, the table piled with all kinds of mushrooms.

"What are you doing? Why did you buy so many mushrooms?"

"Oh, you're here early. Come on, come on, try what I made." Zhao Yu walked out carrying a bowl of mushroom soup.

Zhou Lan was dumbfounded. "Aren't you disgusted by mushrooms? And you're making soup?"

Zhao Yu ladled soup into two bowls. "It's called exposure therapy. If I eat them every day, I'll eventually get used to the flavor. Try it and see if it's good."

Zhou Lan took a sip and exclaimed in surprise, "Who taught you this?"

"An auntie who runs a Chinese restaurant. She often invites me to eat, so I help her in the kitchen. How is it? Not bad, right?" Zhao Yu raised an eyebrow, a hint of pride showing.

Zhou Lan nodded repeatedly, giving him a thumbs up, then added, "Isn't it exposure therapy? Why aren't you drinking?"

Zhao Yu picked up the bowl like he was facing his own execution, stared at the mushrooms floating in the soup, pinched his nose, and gulped it down.

"How is it?" Zhou Lan watched him expectantly.

"Ugh..." He turned his head and spat it into the trash can, collapsing weakly onto the floor. "Tastes like biting into a mouthful of moss."

Zhou Lan handed him a bottle of water and asked curiously, "But I think the soup tastes great. How can you make it delicious without tasting it?"

"No need to taste. As long as the ingredients, heat, and seasonings are right, the flavor will be right." Zhao Yu raised his hand. "Help me get another bowl. I'll try again."

He wedged the trash can between his knees, ready to hurl at any second.

Zhou Lan's feelings suddenly grew complicated. This young man forcing himself through all this made him almost forget that he was also the boss Chen's son—someone who shouldn't have been a pawn to be used.