Chapter 53: Outwitted by One’s Own Cleverness (Part One)

The countryside was a picturesque scene—verdant hills, clear waters, and a fresh breeze caressing the face—but Chu Dong felt none of the joy one might expect from a spring outing with a beautiful companion. The way Tan Xue nearly vented her frustration through the speed of her driving left him with nothing but anxiety. Only when the girl finally guided the car up the winding mountain road did he feel as if a great weight had fallen from his chest. If not for his strong nerves, he might have been sick the moment he stepped out of the car.

“You call this little hill a climb?” Chu Dong’s face, pale from the ordeal, gradually regained its color. He pointed to the nearby rise beside the imposing Black Mountain and questioned Tan Xue.

“Climbing is just a formality. What matters is the result. And now, aren’t we already up here?” Tan Xue parked the car, handed a bill to the attendant, and didn’t look back.

“So, you’re only here to enjoy the view from the top?” Chu Dong understood now. Pampered as she was, Tan Xue would never sweat through a hot day just to climb a mountain. For her, it was all about enjoyment. If sedan chairs were available in town, she’d have someone carry her up without a second thought.

“Exactly. If it weren’t so inconvenient to drive all the way to the summit, I’d take the car up there myself.” With a flick of her wrist, she tossed her small bag to Chu Dong, clasped her hands behind her back, and sauntered up toward the summit not far ahead.

He hurried after her. The little beauty’s mood had clearly improved; though still a bit sharp, it was far better than being ignored. It is always darkest before dawn, Chu Dong thought—perhaps the hard times were about to end.

It took only three or five minutes to walk from the base to the top. The feeling was indeed wonderful: the city’s buildings below were neatly layered, the distant sea gradually merged with the sky, and the morning breeze fluttered their clothes. Bathed in the rising sun, Tan Xue’s upturned face was strikingly radiant.

Chu Dong was momentarily entranced. The shy, bashful little princess of his childhood had become a celestial maiden, untouchable in her regal beauty.

“Ah, the sea!” Tan Xue spread her arms wide and sang softly.

“It’s all just water…” Chu Dong muttered in response.

“Pfft, you never say anything serious! Why haven’t you grown up?” Tan Xue scolded him, exasperated, as she pulled out a handkerchief and spread it over the rocks, sitting down without another glance at Chu Dong. “That’s how they say it online. It’s famous,” Chu Dong explained, plopping down beside her without caring about the dirt, her bag at his feet. “There’s even a follow-up: ‘Noble steed, you have four legs; beauty, you’re so fair, but beneath your nose, you’ve got a mouth. Still remember the day we met—it was miserably hot…’”

“You’re impossible! Can’t you keep that mouth of yours shut?” Though her words scolded him, Tan Xue was smiling, borrowing a playful insult she’d learned from Li Youlan. Using it today pleased her greatly.

Chu Dong leaned in, gazing at her rosy lips, making Tan Xue a little uneasy. She raised her hand. “What are you doing?”

“Heh, nothing. I just wanted to see what the so-called ivory looks like.” Chu Dong seemed a bit embarrassed. “Honestly, there’s nothing special about it—it's just very white.”

“You…” She reached out to pinch his ear, but Chu Dong, wary from past experience, dodged her easily. This back-and-forth left Tan Xue feeling unfairly treated—not because she wanted Chu Dong to yield, but because she’d always been younger than him as a child, and he always had the upper hand, scaring her with caterpillars or tricking her out of her treats. Thinking back, she realized that, were those tricks tried now, she’d never fall for them. So today she had come prepared, bringing a few tricks of her own to tease Chu Dong.

“Sharp-tongued and glib—that’s all you’re good for. Besides sweet-talking kids, you’re just good at fooling the elderly.” Tan Xue’s words implied that Chu Dong, seeing she ignored him, had turned to win over Xiao Yu’er and her parents instead.

“Says who? Everyone’s the same. Or are you saying your intelligence is now invincible?” Chu Dong didn’t care what she meant; a conversation was better than her giving him the cold shoulder.

“How about this: let’s play a game. Whoever loses agrees to three conditions from the other. Dare to try?” Tan Xue, fearing Chu Dong wouldn’t take the bait, deliberately goaded him.

“First, you have to promise to accept losing,” Chu Dong grinned. Playing this game with him was like the God of Longevity trying to hang himself.

“Why do you assume I’ll lose? Just don’t go back on your word, that’s all. I don’t want to fall into a trap. Safety first.”

“Fine, I’m in. But let’s make it clear: a game’s a game. Nothing inappropriate. Who knows when someone might show up.” Chu Dong agreed with a mischievous smile, trying to take advantage where he could.

“In your dreams.” Tan Xue grabbed her bag, pulled out two small balls. “There are two numbers inside—one and two. Pick one; if you get one, you win. Two, you lose. Fair?”

They were two plastic capsules, the kind used for holding medicinal pills, the wax removed and slips of paper tucked inside.

“Sure, just luck then? I’ve always had good luck.” Rubbing his hands together, Chu Dong was eager to try.

“Great, you go first, so you can’t say I’m cheating.”

As she spoke, Tan Xue made a show of shuffling the balls behind her back, then opened her palm—two small balls resting in her jade-white hand.

With a turn of thought, Chu Dong realized her trick. There must be two slips inside, but both probably bore the same number. If it was two, then no matter which he picked, he’d end up with a slip marked two and lose if he opened it first. If both were ones, then perhaps Tan Xue would insist on picking first, ensuring her win. Now, with her graciously letting him go first, both slips must say two. How childish her scheme was—clearly, all that foreign schooling had made her regress.

“Are you sure I get to pick?” Chu Dong feigned modesty, pretending to hesitate.

“Of course,” Tan Xue replied with a graceful arch of her brow.

“Alright, then I’ll pick.” Since both slips were the same, Chu Dong didn’t bother choosing carefully. He simply grabbed one and tossed it over the cliff.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Tan Xue shrieked, apparently not expecting this. Yet a hint of triumph flickered in her eyes.

“I forgot to open it. Wait, I’ll go fetch it.” Seeing her smile, Chu Dong knew he’d been tricked. She had counted on him doing just this, so both slips must have been ones—but this was the highest point of Black Mountain, with sheer cliffs everywhere but the path; the ball he tossed was lost forever. No way to retrieve it.

“No need. Just admit defeat, will you?” Weighing the remaining ball in her hand, Tan Xue beamed at him.

“Fine, you win. But it has to be two out of three.” Chu Dong knew he’d fallen into her trap, but still tried to bargain for another chance.