Zheng Yu'an bought water not just for Yan Shuwang; he prepared drinks for all the players on the court, personally handing out bottles from a plastic bag.
Jiao Tang looked at him with a complex expression, a strange mix of pity and sympathy: "Little Zheng really is considerate."
Zheng Yu'an smiled: "It's nothing, Mr. Jiao, you're too kind."
Jiao Tang: "Why don't you wait a bit before going back to the locker room and play for a while?"
Zheng Yu'an shook his head: "Director Yan is still inside; I'll take the water in."
Jiao Tang hesitated, leaving Zheng Yu'an somewhat puzzled. He gave a questioning look: "What's wrong, Mr. Jiao?"
Jiao Tang sighed, giving up on whatever he was going to say, his gaze seemingly inadvertently landing on Zheng Yu'an's backside: "Little Zheng, you must take care of your health..."
Zheng Yu'an: "?"
Yan Shuwang was lighting his third cigarette when Zheng Yu'an came in with the water.
He smiled at the sight of Yan Shuwang before saying anything, his eyes gently drooping, the corners of his mouth curving into crescent-shaped smile lines: "Why have you smoked so many cigarettes?"
Zheng Yu'an was not a heavy smoker, and he would rarely smoke continuously unless he was working overtime. The locker room was filled with smoke, almost choking him. He twisted open a bottle and handed the water to Yan Shuwang.
Yan Shuwang took it after a moment.
Zheng Yu'an then pulled out a bottle of red antiseptic solution as if by magic. He knelt casually in front of Yan Shuwang and said, "Let me apply some medicine for you, Director Yan."
Yan Shuwang remained silent but did not refuse. The cold medicine had a slight stinging sensation when applied to the wound, which was rather refreshing. He lowered his head, watching Zheng Yu'an's movements and said quietly, "Is Little Zheng always this nice to everyone?"
Zheng Yu'an paused, then smiled: "It's nothing, not worth mentioning."
He finished applying the medicine to the red marks on Yan Shuwang's legs, gently blowing them dry. He put the bottle away in Yan Shuwang's bag. Zheng Yu'an did not rush to leave, taking out a pack of cigarettes.
"Not going to play?" Yan Shuwang's hair was loose. Zheng Yu'an thought his hair was of excellent quality, good enough to be in a shampoo advertisement.
"Without CFO Yan on the court, who would I compete against?" Zheng Yu'an said with a cigarette in his mouth. He meant it sincerely. Yan Shuwang was not only good at playing but also played fairly. In short, he would rather not be his opponent.
Something about these words seemed to please Yan Shuwang. He smiled, his eyes tilting upwards, his gaze captivating.
Zheng Yu'an discreetly shifted his gaze, took a drag of his cigarette, and said nothing.
Yan Shuwang looked at him for a while, then suddenly asked, "Are you friends with Bai Jian?"
Zheng Yu'an's hand holding the cigarette paused. To be honest, he had seen Yan Shuwang at Bai Jian's pottery exhibition last time, but Yan Shuwang had not mentioned it at all. Zheng Yu'an had assumed that Yan Shuwang had not noticed him that day or had not recognized him even if he had seen him.
But now it seemed that was not the case.
Zheng Yu'an thought for a moment before carefully saying, "I've known Teacher Bai for a long time; I'm a fan of his pottery."
Yan Shuwang praised, whether sincerely or not: "Little Zheng is very talented."
Zheng Yu'an said modestly: "I'm just an amateur looking for fun. I didn't expect CFO Yan to like it too. I even saw you that day; I thought you didn't recognize me."
This statement had two meanings: first, I noticed you first, and second, I wasn't the one pretending not to know you.
Yan Shuwang raised an eyebrow. Zheng Yu'an was too clever and too agreeable, speaking flawlessly. He could please anyone. Yan Shuwang loved this about him, but sometimes it made him grind his teeth.
"I thought Little Zheng didn't want to know me," Yan Shuwang suddenly reached out, took the cigarette from Zheng Yu'an's lips, and slowly took a puff. He smiled ambiguously, "After all, you're not one of us."
Zheng Yu'an was still holding his hand in the posture of holding a cigarette. A layer of cold sweat inexplicably broke out on his back. He did not know if he was embarrassed by Yan Shuwang's words or ashamed of being forced to share a cigarette with him. He stuttered, unable to answer for a long time.
His appearance clearly pleased Yan Shuwang. The man lazily finished half the cigarette and said lightly, "Bai Jian is holding an exhibition at the Benshi Art Museum next Friday. Would Little Zheng like to go with me?"