Liu Bao’s neat suit draped nicely and hugged him in all the right places, which was a stark contrast to his usual black vest and jeans. Zhang Yang considered Liu Bao and his formal suit with a straight face, seeing Liu Bao dressed in a suit for the first time ever. Other than the vest and jeans, occasionally Liu Bao would wear a pair of white polished shoes, but most of the time he would wear a pair of sandals. All of them looked great on him, but still, this was definitely not what Zhang Yang was used to seeing.
Liu Biao laughed heartily and grinned. “Today, I see Boss. Boss likes to wear suits. Come and walk with me, and I’ll treat you to a meal.”
“Then,” Zhang Yang hesitated. “I won’t go.” Although he and Liu Biao had a good relationship, he’d never participated in Liu Biao’s social gatherings before.
“Come on, come on. Walk with me,” Liu Biao said. “Don’t be afraid of the attention. A few hundred people will be eating. No one will pay attention to you.” Liu Biao firmly grabbed Zhang Yang’s hand and brought him to the side of his motorbike.
“I—” Zhang Yang started to say, but Liu Biao interrupted him.
“What is this?” Liu Biao asked, seeing the black plastic bag clutched in Zhang Yang’s hand.
“Bread.” Zhang Yang swung the bag behind him.
“Bread? The old man gave it to you?” Liu Biao frowned and tried to get a look at the bag Zhang Yang hid.
Zhang Yang coughed as he pushed the bag further behind him. He hoped this wasn’t about to become a thing.
“Give it to me,” Liu Biao said.
“No, I don’t want to,” Zhang Yang said.
“Absolutely not.” Zhang Yang pushed away from Liu Biao.
“Fuck, that damned old man gave it to you!” Liu Biao yelled. “I bet he isn’t afraid of poisoning you to death. Give it to me! You know I’ll never poison you, and I say you should throw it away so you really won’t be poisoned. Come with me, your uncle, and I’ll give you a grand meal.”
Liu Biao caught up with Zhang Yang, seized the bag, and opened it to see what was inside. He cursed it and fiercely threw it onto the ground.
“But I’m already full.” Zhang Yang rubbed his stomach. He didn’t know what was up with that bread, but he felt really full. Really comfortable. Still, he slid onto the bike with Liu Biao.
“Crap! Even though you’re full, you still have to go to the party. You need to puke up that bread in the toilet later. Empty your stomach. Is that stuff even edible for humans?” He jerked the motorcycle to a start, the exhaust pipe emitting a large cloud of black smoke. The dark smoke billowed into a large mass that surrounded the gate into its own dank realm. A place that called back to battlefields of old. Badass yet somber. Grim. But then the motorcycle let out an uncanny shriek within the smoke and stormed into the boundless flow of traffic.
As the motorcycle disappeared from view, Uncle Wang walked out of the guard room’s door with his hands behind his back. After watching the thick smoke in the distance, he squatted down. With a face of caution and solemness, he picked up the black plastic bag that Liu Biao had thrown on the ground. He carefully dusted it off and entered the guard room.
“Small brat does not know how hard it is to have a Chinese meal. Next time you are hungry, I’ll see what you are going to eat.” The old man opened the squeaky drawer. After he carefully wrapped the bread again, he put it into the innermost part of the drawer. As he closed the drawer, a cockroach crawled out. Without hesitating, he unleashed a murderous aura, and with his hand, crushed it.
“Liu Biao, am I even suitable for this party?” It seemed a bit inappropriate for him to crash the party. Especially just for the food. As a nobody and student. What if his presence painted a target on him, and he ended up causing problems? He’d never be able to live it down.
“Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid. Today your boss has gained honor. I arranged the wine for the Baijiayuan Hotel. The people going doesn’t exceed a thousand or even eight hundred. Having one more or less person won’t even matter.” Liu Biao laughed. “Besides, I wanted you, a country bumpkin, to see our Boss’s elegance.” Liu Biao swerved in and out of traffic. With a round face, he smiled. As if it was all his glory and not his Boss’s glory.
“Oh, then do I give him a red packet?”  It’d be best to come with a gift lest he offend.
“Fuck, if you give a red packet, would you still be getting food for free? Stop being silly. Don’t think so much. Following me isn’t wrong. Today, I’m allowing you to have a grand meal.”
“Yep. I’m going with Brother Biao to mingle. The wind is really blowing now. Damn, it’s loud. So Brother Biao should stop talking. It’s not good if we catch a cold from this.”
“As if senior’s body could catch a cold,” Liu Biao scoffed, and then with a small smirk, he purposefully coughed once then twice.
C City wasn’t that big. Ten minutes barely passed and Liu Biao arrived at Baijiayuan Hotel with his world-shaking motorcycle. It was only natural for Liu Biao to still have some self-knowledge as he parked his unique motorcycle far away from C city beside a small flower garden next to a row of commercial shops. The two guys walked over.
At school, they had already finished eating dinner, but that was the life in school. Some hotel restaurants would open whenever there was business.
The area around the Baijiayuan Hotel had a lot of heavy traffic. It was so crowded in front of the big parking lot that the two males could barely squeeze in. Several extremely expensive and well-known cars sat scattered from one end to the other. Zhang Yang could feel his tense face loosen with awe—never had he seen so many amazing cars.
“BMW…Benz…Cadillac…Audi…Ferrari.” Zhang Yang drooled over the shining and glossy cars. He was itching to run his hands over them. As if their smooth exteriors were as soft as a woman’s skin. Though he wasn’t a car enthusiast, as a male, at that moment, his car infatuation wasn’t inferior to other car enthusiasts.
“Fuck, you should grow a little resolve. Don’t lose face for me.” Liu Biao firmly knocked on Zhang Yang’s head with his eyes on a new model: the 600 Bentz.
Zhang Yang chuckled. “Right. Don’t lose face.” In Zhang Yang’s heart, an abrupt haughtiness arose. His intuition told him that there were many better cars out there. The world was vast. Although these cars were famous and valuable, they weren’t first-rate. At least the Rolls-Royce Phantom was more respected than every single one of these cars.
Zhang Yang’s wide-eyed and amazed outlook started to shift and change. A kind of indifference took over his mind and body. The opulence that had surrounded him and overwhelmed him was suddenly not something that could control him but something he could control. Although, he didn’t immediately have the perspective of a boss, he was able to adopt an attitude that was neither servile nor overbearing. His demeanor showed experience where Zhang Yang originally had none.
Suddenly Liu Biao asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Huh? What’s wrong?” Zhang Yang asked.
“I feel that you suddenly aren’t the same.” Liu Biao scratched his head, puzzled. When he’d looked back at Zhang Yang, it was as if a completely different person stood there instead of his friend. Liu Biao felt something indescribable. Like clouds swirling around only to be smoothed away by a light wind. Or was it clear sky?
“Shit, I can’t quite figure it out.” Liu Biao firmly spit. He couldn’t find an appropriate adjective since his entire education was just fighting and picking up girls.
Zhang Yang remained silent. Of course he was already used to Liu Biao’s habit of speaking.
 A “red packet” or red envelope is a traditional way of giving gifts in China. The envelopes usually have money in them.