Chapter 141 — Old Buffon's Origins

At that, Wang Jinde slapped his head as enlightenment dawned. It seemed he really had been overthinking things, so much so that he didn't even dare show his face before Yang Juehuan and simply went into hiding.

And so now, Yang Juehuan's driver had become Hou Lin.

They had breakfast in the restaurant at Nightless Sky. Breakfast service was already over, but who was Yang Ce? One word from Hou Lin, and the restaurant prepared a steaming hot breakfast all over again.

After Yang Ce and Zhao Ying finished eating, they headed straight for the temple fair.

Looking at the familiar temple fair signs, Yang Ce couldn't help but smile wryly and rub his nose.

New Year, three days, and he had brought three different beauties here three times. This was probably a rare feat in history.

There was nothing for Hou Lin to do at the temple fair, so Yang Ce told him and sent him back first. But he did instruct him: "Tonight have Wang Jinde come pick me up. The kid thinks hiding will get him off the hook?"

Yang Ce meant to take Wang Jinde down a peg. The fellow wasn't old, but relying on his quick wits he was always acting on his own and thinking he knew best. That kind of temperament had its advantages and disadvantages in business—one wrong move and he'd suffer for it—so Yang Ce intended to give the kid a proper tempering.

To be continued.

627. An Unintentional Voice from the Heart

After Bao Lin left, Yang Ce and Zhao Ying began strolling from the entrance of the temple fair. Zhao Ying was older, after all—though she found the things at the fair novel, she wasn't as eager to try everything as Chen Shutang and the others.

On the commercial street they bought a few trinkets at random, then turned back toward the performance street. Why not go to the entertainment street first? Because Yang Juehuan had had rather an awkward time there, and Yang Ce was afraid Zhao Ying might drag him into playing something again—so subconsciously, Yang Ce led her down the other road.

"It's so lively here!" Zhao Ying said sincerely, looking at the bustling crowd. "I've lived in Songjiang for so many years, and this is the first time I've come to see the temple fair."

"That's because you came back every year for the New Year before. Naturally you wouldn't have seen it," Yang Hengye said.

"That's right. Before, I was too busy looking after you students to have any time to look into things like this," Zhao Ying nodded and said. "Now that I'm a student again, I finally have the leisure to do some of the things I like."

"By the way, Ying, does that mean you're not planning to be a teacher anymore?" Yang Yanchuan asked.

"Didn't I say it already? I want to be a formidable businesswoman who commands the commercial world," Zhao Ying nodded and said with a touch of yearning. "It's just that my parents think teaching is a stable profession with a decent income, and they don't want me going into business."

"In that case, why did you come to do a graduate degree in economics?" Yang Hengye asked.

"Heh, I got in behind my parents' backs. But it's a done deal now—what can they do if they don't allow it?" Zhao Ying said with a rather sly smile. "I acted first and reported afterward. By the time they found out, it was too late... Huh, Yang Ce, what's that over there? Why are there so many people?"

Zhao Ying said this suddenly, pointing toward a spot not far away.

"Oh?" Yang Ce looked up. It turned out to be a beauty-and-python show. A very pretty young woman was dancing with an enormous python of fearsome, grotesque appearance, drawing ceaseless cheers from the crowd.

"It's a beauty-and-python show," Yang Minlan said to Zhao Ying. "Lots of people watching. Let's go take a look too."

"Of course we're going." Since she was here, Zhao Ying didn't want to leave with any regrets. But after two steps she said, "Wait a minute—Yang Ce, how did your eyesight get so good all of a sudden?"

"I wear contact lenses," Yang Ce said, breaking into a mental sweat as he hastily covered for himself. True enough—at this distance, no one could have seen clearly, and yet he had described it so precisely.

"Contact lenses?" Zhao Ying was taken aback. "You wear contact lenses?"

"That's right, don't you remember? Back in senior year, during an exam, you even helped me put in my contact lenses," Yang Puqi nodded solemnly.

"Oh, I remember now—that time!" Zhao Ying nodded. "I thought you were deliberately trying to distract me so you could cheat. So you really are nearsighted!"

"Heh, a little. Not serious," Yang Ce said with an awkward smile. Fearing Zhao Ying would keep probing and expose him, he changed the subject. "Ying, why do you have so little faith in my abilities? Would I even need a trick like distracting the invigilator to cheat on an exam?"

What Yang Juehuan meant was: if I were going to cheat, I'd just copy outright. I wouldn't need such a low-grade maneuver.

"Heh, then how do you explain that your paper and Zhang Bin's were identical? What do you have to say for yourself?" Zhao Ying scolded teasingly.

"Maybe I'm a better student than he is, and he copied mine. You never know," Yang Ce said shamelessly.

"Your paper seems to have had his name written on it, though," Zhao Ying said with a crooked smirk. That Yang Juehuan's grades were now better than Zhang Bin's was certain—but before, that was another matter.

As the two chatted, they arrived at the crowded spot.

Sure enough, the performance inside was a beauty-and-python acrobatic act. A young woman was twirling a giant serpent, sending it coiling back and forth through the air, the snake dancing gracefully along with her movements.

Everyone present clicked their tongues in wonder, and Zhao Ying was spellbound too, looking utterly thrilled. Small wonder—girls were all rather interested in this sort of acrobatic show, as the shrieking, applauding tourists around them made plain.

Suddenly the young woman changed her gesture, and the python's body snapped straight, whirling back and forth above a wooden rod she brandished. Then the python opened its great mouth, the young woman sprayed something in front of it—and with a whoosh, a fire dragon flew out, aimed straight in Yang Ce and Zhao Ying's direction.

"Ah!" Zhao Ying cried out in fright, panic-stricken. The flames looked about to scorch her and Yan.

Of course, that was only what she believed. In truth the flames were still a good distance from them, and even if they had touched someone, it wouldn't have mattered—this was a special low-temperature flame used in acrobatics and couldn't burn anyone at all.

But Zhao Ying didn't know that. In her alarm she seized Yang Juehuan's arm and hid her whole body behind him—that particular instinct of a girl, to hide behind a man when danger comes.

And deep down, Zhao Ying had already come to regard Yang Ce as someone she could lean on, so this impulse was all the stronger. When she saw the flames coming, she instinctively assumed Yang Ce would protect her.

Yang Ce couldn't help smiling at the sight of her. It was rare for Zhao Ying to show such a small-woman side in front of him; he hadn't felt this way in a long time.

Yang Ce sighed and took the opportunity to put an arm around Zhao Ying's shoulders, letting her lean more comfortably against him. In fact, Zhao Ying was not the only girl reacting this way—many of the girls present likewise shrieked and threw themselves into their boyfriends' arms.

The flames vanished in an instant, as calm as if they had never been, without scorching a single person present. Then the girls all began shrieking again, cheering loudly for the performers.

And Zhao Ying, too, became aware of the intimacy between them. Somewhat embarrassed, she wriggled free of Yang Juehuan's arm, coughed twice with a red face, and didn't know what to say.