Author: hoeniely (Page 1 of 18)

A person’s experiences continually accumulate throughout their growth, and after a long period of settling, their personality gradually changes becoming more composed and calm, open-minded and indifferent. Even love becomes quiet and restrained.

This perfectly described Gu Lizhou.

He had always kept himself outside a zone of emotional safety, so that he could swiftly retreat the moment he sensed something was off.

He didn’t want to waste energy, didn’t want to fall for anyone. No joy, no sorrow. He didn’t get jealous and had no temper. It seemed like nothing could ever rattle his nerves.

But everything changed when it came to Zhong Weishi.

He became cautious, insecure, easily moved to joy or sorrow.

He broke down and cried at the airport over a fake news report, exhausted himself just to make Zhong Weishi’s path a little smoother, and got overwhelmingly jealous over a meaningless WeChat account.

He felt like he was no longer himself.

And he realized that so-called emotional defense line had long since disappeared.

If he had to describe what love looked like, it would probably be your emotions being completely controlled by someone else.

And for men, there were also subtle physical reactions that were hard to control.

While Zhong Weishi took deep breaths of oxygen, he blinked, appearing to gaze at Gu Lizhou affectionately. But in reality, he was oxygen-deprived and his brain was still frozen.

The kitchen filled with the scent of pork rib rice, wave after wave. His stomach grumbled.

Gu Lizhou’s arms were still tightly wrapped around his back.

“Hungry, ah?”

Zhong Weishi nodded, but he didn’t want to move. Not at all. He just wanted to stay in this embrace.

His arms tightened, and he rubbed his chin twice against the man’s neck before blatantly planting two kisses there.

He heard Gu Lizhou laughing, and without even looking, he knew just how attractive and captivating that smile was.

His senses gradually returned, and his memory became clearer.

A reality he had never dared to hope for was now right in front of him: Gu Lizhou liked him.

Liked him madly.

Just like how they had just madly exchanged breaths.

It was enough to make his legs go weak.

He finally understood how Uncle Cao must have felt when he and his girlfriend were all over each other.

It was the urge to possess, the need to release emotions.

Kissing someone you like wasn’t disgusting at all. In fact, it was kind of romantic.

And when Gu Lizhou’s tongue lightly touched the seam of his lips, everything unfolded naturally. His mind went blank, and the deepest impression left behind was softness.

If kissing didn’t exist in this world, he probably would’ve never known that a person’s tongue could be so soft, so flexible.

No one was counting how long they kissed. All they knew was that the piano music upstairs had changed from one song to another, and the two of them, like a pair of playful cats, rolled around the couch, entangled in kisses.

During that time, all his past grievances, confusion, and melancholy dissipated like smoke.

Seeing that he still had no intention of getting up, Gu Lizhou raised an eyebrow slightly and reached out to squish his face into a bun.

“Still want to go again?”

This time, Zhong Weishi didn’t ask for permission before leaning down and giving him a quick kiss. He grinned, “Can I kiss you without filing a report from now on?”

Gu Lizhou laughed so hard his chest rose and fell, making the person lying on top of him tremble all over along with him.

“Have you been wanting to kiss me for a long time?”

Zhong Weishi got a little embarrassed by that and shot back, “What about you?”

“Why else do you think I came back?” Gu Lizhou said as he scratched at his waist.

Zhong Weishi stifled a laugh, twisting into a flailing caterpillar, then buried his face in Gu Lizhou’s neck and muttered, “Actually, me too… it’s been a while… so long I can’t even remember when it started… probably before you left.”

His lips were pressed right against Gu Lizhou’s ear, every syllable he spoke lightly brushing against the outer rim, making it ticklish and tingly.

“Sometimes having too much charm is a burden, ah. Everyone around me ends up falling helplessly in love. But there’s only one of me.”

“Shameless.” Zhong Weishi bit down on the base of his ear, his teeth gently rubbing twice.

Gu Lizhou kept going: “But starting today, I’m yours. Just yours.”

Zhong Weishi froze for a second, then bashfully buried himself in his shoulder and giggled like a fool. “You said it, ah. No take-backs. If you go back on your word, I’ll chop you up.”

Gu Lizhou let out a puff of laughter and patted his lower back. “If you don’t get off me now, it’s not just going to stop at kissing, ah.”

Zhong Weishi instantly sprang up from the couch. “Food! I’m starving!”

Gu Lizhou lowered his head and chuckled quietly.

That step had taken so much effort that his heartbeat still hadn’t calmed down.

Zhong Weishi was bustling around in the kitchen, even humming a light, cheerful English song. He looked happy, full of energy.

“Just wait a little, the soup’s almost done!” he called out while tending to the pot, turning back now and then to glance at Gu Lizhou.

Whenever their eyes met, they shared a smile full of mutual understanding.

Outside, the sky was gradually darkening.

Gu Lizhou got up and turned on the light, then slowly wandered into the kitchen. His gaze stayed fixed on Zhong Weishi, scanning him openly, with no intention of holding back.

He hugged the boy from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder, his expression tender, just about to whisper a few romantic lines.

But then Zhong Weishi raised his hand and slammed down on a garlic clove; startling him so much he nearly bit his tongue.

All traces of romance instantly vanished.

Gu Lizhou propped his chin up and retreated from the danger zone.

Once the food was ready, the scent wafted out and attracted the little calico cat Cao Zhiheng had recently adopted. The little thing tilted its head up at the table and meowed incessantly.

The cat had been found near a trash bin. It was drizzling that day when Zhong Weishi went downstairs to throw out the garbage and spotted it by accident.

If it had been the past, he might’ve given it a bit of food and then pretended not to see it. After all, it was already hard enough feeding himself, let alone a cat.

But things were different now.

The cat didn’t run or hide when he approached, just curled up weakly under a plastic bag, and Zhong Weishi ended up bringing it home.

Cao Zhiheng’s girlfriend had instantly fallen in love with it and scooped it up into her arms. Now, the cat was practically the little overlord of Lanshan Apartments. Wherever there was food, it showed up. It mostly lived in the cat bed right outside unit 303 and would occasionally stir up trouble for Old Cao, like batting his freshly made props off the table onto the floor.

Gu Lizhou tore off a bit of rib meat and tossed it to the cat. After finishing, the little thing jumped straight onto his lap, meowing.

A few cute little paw prints immediately appeared on his black pants.

Gu Lizhou scratched its chin and said, “Call me Dad.”

“Why are you so obsessed with being a dad?” Zhong Weishi said while gnawing on a rib.

The kitten let out a perfectly timed meow.

“What, jealous? Don’t want Dad having a second child?”

A bone hit him square on the forehead.

“Talk properly. Stop throwing things. Who taught you that?”

“I learned it from you.”

Gu Lizhou patted the cat’s head. “Look, your little brother is very well-behaved.” He lifted the kitten for a look. “Oh wait, your little sister.”

“Are you gonna eat or not?” Zhong Weishi tapped the edge of his bowl.

“Eating.” Gu Lizhou placed the kitten back on the floor, brushed off his pant legs, and got up to wash his hands. “Are you jealous of your little sister? Just admit it. Dad will spoil you more from now on.”

As he passed by, Gu Lizhou scratched Zhong Weishi’s chin, only to get bitten irritably.

“You do that again and I won’t go easy on you, ah.” Gu Lizhou pinched his jaw.

“What are you gonna do?” Zhong Weishi looked up at him.

“All kinds of not going easy.” Gu Lizhou flicked his forehead hard.

A loud pop.

A faint red mark appeared on his forehead.

“Aw.” Zhong Weishi rubbed his head. “You’re always committing domestic violence.”

It was Gu Lizhou’s first time eating braised pork ribs with rice. He had no frame of reference for how it should taste. He just simply thought it was delicious. But even if he had something to compare it to, he felt that nothing could top this.

Because it had fused deeply with the taste of his first kiss.

From now on, every time he ate ribs with rice, he would definitely think of today.

Under the table, the kitten was circling around, its tail flicking up and brushing against Zhong Weishi’s leg. After a while, it plopped its butt down onto his slipper.

Zhong Weishi had no choice but to give up the slipper and reached out with his foot to hook onto Gu Lizhou’s instead.

And just like that, the four legs tangled together.

Halfway through the meal, Zhong Weishi suddenly looked up and asked, “Ge, have you ever had a girlfriend?”

“Nope.”

“No way?” Zhong Weishi was shocked.

“Why would I lie?” Gu Lizhou replied honestly. “Work used to keep me busy. I didn’t have time to think about love. And once I passed a certain age, being single actually felt pretty nice…” He looked straight into Zhong Weishi’s eyes. “Until I met you.”

“Oh…” Zhong Weishi giggled. “Then your first kiss was with me too, ah.”

Gu Lizhou gave a rare shy nod. He thought the kid was about to praise his kissing skills, but instead the other said, “You’re 32 and that was your first? I’m impressed. If you hadn’t met me, you probably would’ve died alone.”

“…………” Nothing good ever came out of that mouth. Gu Lizhou bit down on a piece of cartilage with a loud crack.

A person who can turn even a confession into profanity shouldn’t be trusted.

Next door, Uncle Cao hadn’t seen the kitten even after dinnertime, so he came around with its food bowl, knocking as he went. The kitten, upon hearing the sound, immediately knew food was coming and darted out like a shot.

Cao Zhiheng also had a bag of cherries in his hand and wanted to ask if the old man and the child in unit 301 wanted any. As he reached the window and glanced in out of habit, his footsteps suddenly froze.

The shock of what he saw made Cao Zhiheng instinctively duck and hide.

That old beast was kissing the kid!

Absolutely eye-burning.

Clutching his eyes, Cao Zhiheng crouched down and hunched his way back to his apartment.

“Old Gu! I need to seriously, solemnly warn you that this can’t go on! Didn’t you say it yourself? He’s just a kid! What are you doing with a kid?!”

“Your father and mother would be disappointed! Your friends and relatives would be disappointed too!”

“Look at yourself now. Are you even a man anymore? Huh?”

“What are you laughing at? Does your expression mean you’re questioning what I’m saying?!”

Sitting across from him was the little calico cat, staring blankly at its owner, occasionally lifting a paw to lick its toes.

Cao Zhiheng typed out his carefully worded speech in the notes app. Otherwise, he feared he wouldn’t be able to argue with Gu Lizhou.

But facts proved that even with all his preparation, going head-to-head with Gu Lizhou’s mouth was like throwing an egg at a rock.

“He’s just a kid! What are you doing with a kid?!”

“Kissed him,” Gu Lizhou said calmly. “And he’s already an adult, okay.”

“Who was it who yelled on the street that he was just a little kid and didn’t know anything?””

“That was last year. He’s grown up now.”

Cao Zhiheng was so infuriated by his shamelessness that he sucked in a sharp breath.

“If you really want to date, it’s not like I can stop you, but as your childhood friend, I have to remind you of a few things. He’s just in his early twenties, basically a little kid. He probably thinks you’re fun and new, you treat him well, so he sees you as someone to rely on. But have you thought about the future? Ten years from now, you’ll be over forty, and he’ll still be in his prime!”

“So what if I’m over forty?” Gu Lizhou shrugged indifferently.

“When I was twenty, I used to wonder what I’d do when I hit thirty. But once I actually turned thirty, what changed? Life still goes on, doesn’t it? Is it really that different? And besides, I don’t feel mentally old at all. It’s your mindset that ages first—that’s what really makes you old.”

Cao Zhiheng sighed and glanced down at his notes app.

“Fine, let’s move to the next point. What if he becomes famous one day? With all the people and flings and eye candy in that world throwing themselves at him. Can he resist that? Once he’s famous, he’ll be surrounded by people treating him well, caring for him, offering him everything. Can you really stay by his side all the time? Especially with how chaotic the entertainment industry is now. Not just men and women, but even men with men…”

Gu Lizhou leaned against the railing, cigarette between his lips. When he smiled, a thin trail of smoke escaped from his mouth.

“With all that worst-case-scenario planning of yours, no one should bother dating at all. Your girlfriend works in a foreign company, right? All her bosses are Westerners—tall, muscular, blond-haired, blue-eyed, and very gentlemanly. You’re just a traditional, middle-aged, conservative straight guy. Can you even compare?”

“That’s twisting the argument!” Cao Zhiheng snapped. “At least we can get legally married. She’s not some celebrity, just working in an office and fewer temptations there.”

Gu Lizhou laughed even harder, snapping back, “Sure, I admit getting a marriage certificate is a sacred process, but what can a piece of paper really bind? You think the divorce rate’s low these days? Even my parents got divorced.”

He clicked his tongue and continued, “Now that I think about it, dating a man isn’t bad at all. No marital obligations, no shared property nad love is just love, clean and open, with no expectations of the other person.”

There was just no reasoning with a man like Gu Lizhou.

As they talked, the conversation gradually turned into a full-blown debate on love.

Cao Zhiheng couldn’t understand how this gloomy old man could be so confident and composed in this “defense of love” battle.

He was so blindly optimistic it was almost inhuman!

“You really think your parents would be okay with you dating a guy?”

“They didn’t ask for my opinion when they got divorced, so why can’t I choose who I want to be with?”

Cao Zhiheng was getting more fired up: “There’s a generation gap every three years and between you two, that’s three generation gaps! Even if you could do the splits, you wouldn’t be able to bridge that!”

Gu Lizhou remained calm and relaxed: “Being with him makes me feel ten years younger, so the gap doesn’t feel that big. Besides, no matter how tempting the world is, is it more attractive than my personal charm?”

Truly, honest words are the hardest to hear.

Cao Zhiheng raised both hands in defeat. “If you won’t believe me, I won’t bother anymore. It’s not me who’s going to get hurt or dumped in the end.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you.” Gu Lizhou patted his shoulder. “I know you mean well. I also know my own limits.”

“What limits?”

“My limit is that I’ll hold on till the end.”

“…”

Love really does make people brain-dead.

The evening breeze blew gently. The ember on Gu Lizhou’s cigarette glowed and dimmed with the wind. He took one last drag, then put it out.

“When I’m with him, I’m really happy.”

Cao Zhiheng curled his lips but didn’t say anything more.

When Gu Lizhou came back inside, Zhong Weishi had already washed the whole big bag of cherries. His mouth was stuffed full, and he mumbled unclearly, “Did Uncle Cao figure out we’re together? I saw him glancing at me several times just now.”

“Yeah.” Gu Lizhou pulled a few stems away from the corner of his mouth.

Zhong Weishi blinked. “What did he say? Is he against it?”

Gu Lizhou smiled. “He told me to keep a close eye on you, said if you ever blow up and get super famous, don’t go running off with someone else.”

“I won’t.” Zhong Weishi scooted closer to Gu Lizhou. “I promise. If I do, you can have someone break my leg.”

“Which leg?”

Zhong Weishi was about to say, “Whichever,” but when he saw the amused look Gu Lizhou couldn’t hide, he cursed, “You’re such a pervert, ah.”

“How, ah, does that make me a pervert? What did I even say?”

“You just are, anyway.”

Gu Lizhou didn’t pursue the “breaking legs” topic any further. After all, that would be illegal.

“He also said there’s a big age gap between us, that we’re from different generations. Do you think we have a generation gap?”

Of course they did. A huge one.

But this wasn’t the moment to speak the truth, ah…

Zhong Weishi patted his shoulder. “Don’t feel insecure. You’re actually my ideal type. How do I put it… when I talk to you, it’s like we’re living on two different planets. It’s a really fun experience.”

“…” Gu Lizhou clenched his teeth, seething with silent frustration.

Zhong Weishi chuckled and leaned over to peek at his phone screen, seeing it open to an online shopping page. “What are you trying to buy?”

“Face masks.”

“Pfft.”

“What’s so funny? Your Dad here has decided to start taking care of himself. When you’re 20, I’ll be 30. When you’re 30, I’ll still be 30. When you’re 40, hey, hey, I’ll still be 30~”

“You immortal freak.”

Zhong Weishi lifted two cherries to his mouth, but the immortal freak turned away without eating them.

“You don’t like them? They’re really sweet, just try one!”

“What do you have a mouth for?”

“To eat, ah.”

“…”

Zhong Weishi caught on from Gu Lizhou’s suggestive side-eye. He grinned, bit a cherry stem, and leaned in.

Gu Lizhou turned his head and pinched his cheeks with both hands.

Zhong Weishi was still young, and even without any skin care, his skin felt like a baby’s; smooth and elastic.

Gu Lizhou gently pinched outward, and in an instant, the boy’s face turned into a little steamed bun.

Then he bit down on the cherry.

It really was sweet.

Zhong Weishi started giggling, and Gu Lizhou couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

For him, love had never been without reason.

That handsome face, bubbly personality, unwavering beliefs, kind nature, and that contagious smile…

Every trait was a bonus.

Even his lack of brains was kind of adorable.

The boy’s youthful energy was like a beam of light, tearing through the fog and making Gu Lizhou’s world brighter.

Zhong Weishi felt his breath getting closer and instinctively closed his eyes.

Forehead, brow, nose bridge, lips, chin…

With every touch, a chubby pink heart popped up beside his head.

The new drama was scheduled to start filming on the 6th, leaving very little time. As soon as the contract was signed, Xie Yun handed the script to Zhong Weishi and told him to start memorizing it.

The assistant had just finished photocopying it. It was thick like a textbook, heavy in the hand, and any random page you flipped to had lines for the male lead.

Zhong Weishi buried his face in the pages and took a deep breath, catching a faint scent of ink. He was like a goblin who had just inhaled a massive dose of vitality, his whole being seemed to radiate with energy.

To him, this wasn’t just a script. It was a beam of light illuminating the path ahead. In it, he saw hope and clearly saw the road beneath his feet.

Maybe one day, he really could leave Yucheng and move to a bigger city.

Maybe one day, he could truly become someone different.

New year, new beginnings.

Zhong Weishi spent the entire New Year immersed in the joy of getting to act in a drama, completely unable to pull himself away. He managed to find time to return to his hometown and visit Grandma Zhao, and for the rest of the days, he was high on adrenaline, memorizing his lines like he was pumped with chicken blood.

On the eve of the Lantern Festival, Zhong Weishi treated a few friends from the Nanhu Drama Club to a meal.

It was a kind of farewell.

Because he probably wouldn’t have much time to act in stage plays anymore.

The one who had originally brought him into the drama club was a veteran actor named Fu, already in his seventies, with nearly fifty years in the industry. In his younger days, he’d been a martial arts actor. He and Zhong Weishi had a strong bond, always referring to each other as mentor and apprentice.

Zhong Weishi was most reluctant to part with him.

“No matter how far you fly, never forget your roots.” Elder Fu always looked at him with a warm smile, as if looking at his own son. “Come back and visit whenever you can, recharge a little. No matter how small this place is, there will always be a spot for you here.”

He knew that once the little sparrow’s wings grew strong, it was bound to fly away, so he wasn’t all that surprised.

Before they parted, he gave Zhong Weishi a calligraphy piece: “Heaven rewards diligence; tranquility brings far-reaching goals.”

The brushwork was bold and vigorous, wild and full of spirit, just like his own personality.

Zhong Weishi’s eyes were red. “I’ll definitely come back to visit you all.”

Old-Timer Fu said, “I hope the next time I see you, it’ll be on TV.”

Zhong Weishi nodded hard.

To him, the past six months of performing in the drama club had been far more valuable than his four previous years working as an extra.

What Senior Fu had taught him were lessons he would benefit from for a lifetime.

With the TV drama about to start shooting, Zhong Weishi had already memorized most of his lines fluently. Gu Lizhou, who was playing the “female lead,” had also been dragged into practicing lines with him so often that he could recite them in his sleep.

In early March, Xie Yun sent Zhong Weishi the WeChat profile of the actress playing the female lead, hoping the two could get familiar with each other before filming began, so their on-camera expressions wouldn’t come off too stiff.

The girl’s name was Guo Manyu. She was twenty-eight, cheerful and outgoing. Right off the bat, she sent a bunch of silly meme stickers. Chatting with her felt easy for Zhong Weishi.

Since they were both newcomers, Zhong Weishi was curious and clicked into her Moments to see what she looked like.

Gu Lizhou floated out from the living room like a ghost. “What are you looking at now?”

“You scared me.” Zhong Weishi laughed and teased, “Checking out a pretty girl.”

Gu Lizhou snatched the phone from behind him, and Zhong Weishi quickly reached out to grab it back. The two of them tussled, evenly matched.

“Let go! Are you letting go or not? If you don’t, I’m gonna bite you ah!” Zhong Weishi pointed at his nose.

“Bite me!” Gu Lizhou tightened his grip on the phone.

Then a shrill wail rang out: “You beast! Let go! Let go with your mouth!”

There were already two neat rows of crescent-shaped bite marks on the back of Gu Lizhou’s hand.

“Are you part dog or something?”

“Woof!”

Gu Lizhou burst out laughing, and in the end, the two of them squeezed their heads together to look at the screen.

Guo Manyu had a tall, upright figure, clearly the result of regular training. Her arms and legs were firm and toned, very different from some of the other female celebrities who were so thin they looked out of shape.

She definitely looked like an athlete. Though her appearance wasn’t stunning, it was natural and pure. Her eyes, in particular, were full of life and matched the image of the female lead in the novel quite well.

“What do you think?” Zhong Weishi glanced at him.

“So-so.”

“I thought so too. Not even as pretty as Da Fei in drag.”

Gu Lizhou smirked.

After chatting with the girl for a few minutes, Zhong Weishi put his phone down and continued rehearsing lines with Gu Lizhou.

This scene featured the male and female leads having a picnic with their teammates.

The female lead, slightly tipsy, asked the male lead what kind of girls he liked. The male lead stared into her eyes and answered, “Take a guess.”

Before the female lead had time to guess, her best friend dragged her away to help with the grill.

Aside from playing the female lead, Luo Yin, Gu Lizhou also had to read lines for the supporting characters.

At this moment, one of the male friends chimed in to help the lead: “If someone suddenly asks you what type of person you like, there are usually two possibilities: either she likes you, or her friend likes you.”

Zhong Weishi: “So do you think it’s her who likes me, or her friend?”

“It’s definitely her who likes you ah. Didn’t you see how she kept staring at you? You can’t hide the way you look at someone you like.”

Gu Lizhou couldn’t memorize that many lines, so he read straight from the script the whole time. His tone was lazy and flat, completely devoid of emotion, but Zhong Weishi was still fully immersed in the scene.

Once the scene ended, Gu Lizhou suddenly turned his head and asked, “Do you like that type of girl?”

“Huh?” Zhong Weishi was briefly stunned.

“Do you like girls like Luo Yin?” Gu Lizhou felt like he’d dropped a pretty obvious hint.

As long as Zhong Weishi took a step, even half a step, he would walk the remaining ninety-nine and a half without hesitation.

Zhong Weishi quickly averted his gaze. “There’s no such thing as Luo Yin in real life.”

The setting sun slowly dipped below the horizon, and the sky looked as if it had been scorched by fire with a stretch of deep orange-red that seemed to go on forever.

They sat side by side on the edge of the balcony. From upstairs came the sound of a child playing the piano, sounding gentle and flowing, like a summer breeze brushing against the face, calming and pleasant.

Zhong Weishi was waiting for him to ask again. Maybe this time, he would give a more detailed answer.

But that moment never came.

Gu Lizhou quietly watched the side of his face, noticing how his gaze always wandered. The red glow of the sunset gradually stained the boy’s cheeks.

The older man suddenly came to a realization and smiled. His focused gaze was like that of someone admiring a beautifully artistic oil painting.

The figure in the painting, flustered by his stare, stood up and said, “I’m a bit hungry. I’ll go cook.”

“What are we having tonight?” Gu Lizhou asked with a smile.

Zhong Weishi paused in his steps. “Braised pork ribs with rice. Want some?”

“I do. I want to taste anything you make.”

Zhong Weishi thought the way he spoke so gently was honestly too much and completely unfair.

“Then let’s go with that. I’ll also make some lettuce with oyster sauce and tomato egg soup.”

Gu Lizhou got up to follow. “Let me help.”

“No, no.” Zhong Weishi nervously pushed him back onto the sofa. “You just watch TV. I’ll be done soon.”

Thinking back to the last time Gu Lizhou stayed in the kitchen while he made tangyuan, he ended up overcooking them until they stuck to the pot. The time before that, when he made dumplings, Gu Lizhou stared at him so much he forgot to add salt. And the time before that, he turned cola chicken wings into charred barbecue wings.

Basically, this man was a disaster who used his beauty to bewitch people.

A modern-day Su Daji.¹She’s a famous (or infamous) figure from Chinese mythology and history, often portrayed as a beautiful but wicked femme fatale. She was the concubine of King Zhou of Shang (商纣王), the last king of the Shang dynasty.

Su Daji, still relentless, squeezed into the kitchen. “Teach me, ah. I’ll make it for you next time.” His voice even had a hint of aggrieved cuteness.

The modern-day King Zhou crumbled helplessly before such beauty. “Fine, just stand back. Don’t mess up my flow.”

Gu Lizhou nodded and obediently leaned against the fridge.

The kitchen wasn’t well-equipped.Zhong Weishi usually only used one pot and one rice cooker to make meals. As long as Gu Lizhou wasn’t around chatting and distracting him, his food usually turned out pretty good.

He first washed the rice and soaked it in water, then cleaned the pork ribs, brought them to a boil, drained them, and set them aside. In the pot, he heated oil, added green onions, ginger, and garlic to bring out the aroma, then stir-fried the ribs until both sides turned golden. After that, he added soy sauce and tossed them to coat evenly with color.

By now, Gu Lizhou could already smell the rich fragrance of the sauce.

Zhong Weishi poured a big bowl of hot water into the ribs and reminded him, “Remember, always use hot water. If you use cold water, the meat gets tough.”

Gu Lizhou leaned over and took a sniff. “It smells amazing, ah. Can I try a piece?”

“Not yet,” Zhong Weishi said as he poured the rice into the rice cooker, then ladled the ribs and their broth over the top. “See this water level? It should just barely cover the rice, about the height of a fingernail.” As he spoke, he added water to the pot.

The rice would still take a while to cook. Zhong Weishi sliced the tomatoes and set them on a plate, then beat the eggs and set them aside.

His knife skills were fast and precise, even cracking and beating eggs took only one hand. The whole flashy routine left Gu Lizhou dazzled.

By comparison, he really did feel like a useless person.

Since tomato soup cools easily, Zhong Weishi planned to make it after the pork rib rice was done. It will only take a few minutes to boil anyway.

With all the ingredients ready, he washed his hands and said, “Come run lines with me again.”

Gu Lizhou nodded and said yes.

Zhong Weishi took the bookmark off the script and flipped through a few pages, skipping over several lines between the secondary CP.

The upcoming scene was about the male lead, Xiao Chi, going over to Luo Yin’s house to mooch a meal. Neither of them could cook to save their lives, so they ended up turning the kitchen into a disaster zone. Xiao Chi’s hands were covered in black grime from the bottom of the pot, and he reached out, trying to smear it on Luo Yin’s face.

Gu Lizhou couldn’t help clicking his tongue. “With behavior like this, he still thinks he can get a girlfriend ah?”

Zhong Weishi said, “And you think someone who shoves people’s heads into the sink can get a girlfriend?”

Gu Lizhou shrugged. “That’s why I’ve never planned on getting a girlfriend, ah.”

Zhong Weishi let out an “Oh.”

The two of them locked eyes. Neither said anything.

The air turned silent, and a bit tense.

In the script, Xiao Chi and Luo Yin were messing around in the living room. Xiao Chi tripped on a table leg, lost his balance, and fell forward, pinning Luo Yin down onto the sofa.

The two stared into each other’s eyes with deep emotion for a few seconds. Then Xiao Chi closed his eyes, turned his head slightly, and kissed Luo Yin.

Gu Lizhou recalled the sensation of that soft, damp kiss, the corners of his lips curving up in anticipation. Meanwhile, Zhong Weishi, worried that he might feel awkward about it, decided to give it up.

“Let’s skip the kiss scene.”

“Why ah?” Gu Lizhou’s eyes widened, then he realized his reaction was too strong. After a half-second pause, he covered it up with forced confidence. “How will you know if you can knock Luo Yin over if you don’t actually pounce?”

Zhong Weishi burst into laughter. “She’s a girl how could I not push her over?”

Gu Lizhou wouldn’t give up. “But what if?”

“There’s no such thing as what if.”

Zhong Weishi raised his hand and gave Gu Lizhou a shove on the shoulder. Caught off guard, Gu Lizhou lost his balance without much resistance.

On reflex, he reached out to grab Zhong Weishi’s arm, and the two of them ended up tumbling onto the sofa together.

Unlike the scene in the script, Zhong Weishi’s head landed directly on Gu Lizhou’s chest with a heavy thud. He even heard a pained grunt from someone’s throat, as if the sound had been forced straight out of him.

It sounded painful.

He quickly pushed himself up and rubbed the spot where he’d landed, asking anxiously, “Are you okay? Huh? A sternum shouldn’t break that easily, right?”

Gu Lizhou shook his head, and the moment he opened his eyes, he caught sight of a pale stretch of neck.

His eyes immediately lit up.

Zhong Weishi was young, full of energy, and always active. Even in the middle of winter, he dressed casually at home. Today he wore a deep blue velvet pajama set that was clearly cheap based on the stitching, but the fabric looked soft and comfortable.

The top had a single row of buttons, but he didn’t bother buttoning it properly. His kneeling posture caused the collar to fall wide open, revealing both his delicate and prominent collarbones, like a pair of light little wings.

He could even see the two pink dots on his chest.

Zhong Weishi followed his gaze and looked down.

Everything was on full display.

“fvck,” he looked up and gave Gu Lizhou a foolish grin. “What the fvck are you staring at? I’m not shy, ah!”

Gu Lizhou’s eyes didn’t leave his lips for a second. “You’re the one lying on top of me.”

The way he said it..

Was downright suggestive.

Just as Zhong Weishi was about to sit up, the man grabbed one of his shoulders and pulled him down.

Their distance closed in an instant.

Close enough to see every single eyelash on the other’s face.

Gu Lizhou was right-handed, and even with just one hand, he held him down firmly, just like that time when he’d shoved him into the sink.

Of course, Zhong Weishi wasn’t the kind to just take it. If he really wanted to resist, he could’ve easily found a way to break free. But at this moment, his whole body felt like it had been soaked in seawater, soft, limp, completely unwilling to move.

His eyelashes trembled gently under Gu Lizhou’s gaze.

If he could die like this, he honestly wouldn’t mind.

The thought stunned him.

A modern-day Su Daji indeed lived up to the name.

“There’s a ‘gaze filled with deep emotion’ in the script too,” Gu Lizhou said, summoning all the feelings in his body, his eyes sincere and intense.

Zhong Weishi looked down at him, and it felt like staring straight into the scorching sun of midsummer that was overwhelmingly hot.

He couldn’t hold it for even two seconds.

Gu Lizhou’s right hand moved from Zhong Weishi’s shoulder, slowly reaching around his back. Fingers interlocked, he pulled him tightly into his arms.

“Why won’t you look at me?” His voice was soft and teasing, tugging on every single one of Zhong Weishi’s nerves, his gaze filled with endless affection. “Hmm?”

Zhong Weishi lay motionless on top of him, like someone frozen by a pressure point strike.

The script clearly said: “I just realized your eyes aren’t completely black, hey…”

But the large hands resting on his back were anything but obedient, tracing slow, suggestive patterns along his spine. The intimate gesture made his whole body burn.

There was nothing this flirtatious in the script…

Even though the kitchen windows and doors were all open and the air was flowing freely, his brain felt like it was starved of oxygen. His usual gift of quick, witty talk had vanished completely.

His ability to form coherent language had dropped to zero.

All the feelings he had buried inside were now screaming to break free. His face grew redder by the second.

“Do you like me?” Gu Lizhou asked in a whisper.

It took Zhong Weishi half a second to realize that that line wasn’t in the script at all. His mind exploded with a loud boom.

He was stunned speechless.

Upstairs, the child, not knowing whether he was well-rested or just finished with dinner, began playing piano again. This time, it was “Kikujiro’s Summer”, lighthearted and mischievous in tone.

Even more mischievous was his heart, which pounded wildly in his chest.

He had never been so sure of one thing as he was at this moment, and that was that Gu Lizhou had feelings about him.

He had a feeling that this man was about to say something completely outrageous next. His palms began to sweat, and his fingertips trembled.

Gu Lizhou looked calm on the surface, but inside, waves were crashing. This was worlds apart from the confession scene he had once imagined, completely unplanned, and he wasn’t mentally prepared at all. But with the atmosphere already like this, there was no way he was backing down today.

His fingertips turned pale from how tightly he was gripping. He asked tentatively, “If you like me, kiss me. If you don’t, then…”

Before he could finish the sentence, his lips were sealed.

The air froze. The two of them instantly turned into living fossils.

Gu Lizhou’s eyes were half-open. The feeling of the kiss was even softer than he imagined, a little damp, like dew on a rose petal.

He completely forgot how to breathe. His chest burned, and a wave of suffocating heat surged through him.

Zhong Weishi clutched his shoulders tightly, as if pouring all his emotions into that grip.

Everything he had been suppressing exploded in that moment. As Gu Lizhou closed his eyes and tightened his arms around him, he realized the little friend was trembling.

His lips were shaking. His breath was uneven. Even the hands gripping his shoulders were shaking…

Zhong Weishi kissed him so hard his eyes turned red, as if he were about to cry. He pulled back, dazed and overwhelmed, then, this time, he bravely met Gu Lizhou’s gaze.

His eyes were as bright as stars on a summer night.

His heart was racing at an impossible speed, and he felt like he could faint at any moment from tachycardia.

The cheerful piano music upstairs did nothing to calm the storm inside. He finally managed to suppress his swirling emotions and began to form words.

He wanted to say: You figured it out a long time ago, didn’t you? Why didn’t you say anything? Were you holding it in for fun?

Be honest, don’t you like me a whole damn lot too? When did you start? You shameless jerk, you hid it so damn well.

But honestly, I already saw it coming a long time ago…

Hmph.

In the end, though, his oxygen-starved brain completely shut down, and all those questions swirling in his head boiled down to one explosive line of profanity: “I fvcking like you so damn much! Let me kiss you again.”

Who cared who fell first?

The next second, his ass was pinched so hard he wailed in pain.

“Take out the swearing and say it again,” Gu Lizhou said, looking straight at him.

At this point, Zhong Weishi had no pride left to speak of. He lowered his head and confessed again, meek and obedient.

“Can I kiss you one more time?”

Gu Lizhou blinked and smiled. His personality leaned toward the cold and quiet, his tenderness usually hidden in the depths of night, never openly shown. But right now, it could no longer be contained.

There was joy in his expression, a glimmer of anticipation, and even a trace of nervousness.

He reached up, cupped the back of Zhong Weishi’s head, and pressed him down, proving with action that he could kiss him as many times as he wanted.

Their lips met again, and the humid heat of their breaths tangled once more.

Zhong Weishi’s hands slid between the sofa cushions and Gu Lizhou’s back, wrapping around him tightly.

It was the embrace he had longed for. A warmth like sunlight in the dead of winter, surrounding him completely.

In the background, cheerful piano music played as they felt each other’s heated breaths, racing heartbeats, and the steadily rising temperature between them.

It was their first real kiss, and neither of them had any experience. Zhong Weishi’s lips tingled from the pressure, and Gu Lizhou had already lost all sense of reason.

Oxygen was clearly running low, but neither of them wanted to let go.

After his virtuous roommate left, Gu Lizhou returned to his room, turned on his computer, and got ready to write for a bit.

Since his left hand wasn’t usable, he had downloaded a voice input tool, connected it to his phone, and used the phone as a microphone to sync content directly to the computer.

He knew this feature had been around since last year, but he had never tried it before. Reciting dialogue alone in an empty room felt a bit weird.

Especially after the editor told him to add more brotherhood scenes, the lines became a lot more melodramatic.

Some sentences already felt embarrassing to type out, and reading them aloud just made it ten times worse.

“His steps were fast as he followed behind Yu Hao. ‘Captain Yu, I’ve already figured out their deal location. It’s at the South Bay Pier. I swear I can take them down! Trust me! If I fail, you can punish me however you want.’”

“His undercover identity had long been exposed. Yu Hao suddenly turned around. ‘You’re going to take them down? Do you believe I’ll take you right here’ …ah, uh!”

The door was suddenly pushed open, and his final word came out in a broken pitch, the ending trembled.

His heart skipped a beat.

Zhong Weishi was standing in the doorway, staring at him blankly, his face full of confusion.

The shame of getting caught voice-inputting his lines was no less than being caught watching p0rn by your family. A suffocating wave of embarrassment overwhelmed him.

“What are you doing? Who are you trying to take?” Zhong Weishi asked.

Gu Lizhou froze for a second before quickly locking his screen. He stammered, “I-I… I was practicing storytelling.”

As soon as he said it, he regretted it. That excuse couldn’t be more absurd.

Zhong Weishi wore a look that screamed “what the hell are you hiding,” and suspiciously asked, “You’re not schizophrenic, are you? Talking to yourself like that?”

Gu Lizhou wasn’t sure what Zhong Weishi had heard at the door, but just thinking about the two lines he’d read aloud made him want to crawl into a hole. He quickly changed the subject: “Weren’t you headed to an audition? Why are you back?”

“I forgot my subway card,” Zhong Weishi said.

“Oh,” Gu Lizhou finally recovered and lifted his hand to check the time. “It’s already eight. Didn’t you say you had an appointment at eight thirty?”

“fvck, fvck, fvck…” Zhong Weishi took off running.

Gu Lizhou walked over to the balcony and leaned on the railing. He saw a figure dart out of the building, and had a feeling Zhong Weishi would probably look back.

Sure enough, the little brat waved toward Unit 301 while running.

Gu Lizhou waved back and laughed.

After going back inside, he logged into the backend of Xinghe Century to take a glance. From the moment he released the synopsis for his new story last night until now, it had reached exactly fifteen thousand bookmarks. Considering he hadn’t been active in years, that number already met his expectations.

He wrote “Long time no see” on a sticky note.

Took a picture, posted it on Weibo with a link to the new work. The comment section exploded instantly.

An hour later, the bookmarks rose past twenty thousand.

The data proved he hadn’t truly faded into obscurity.

The only other person monitoring the numbers as closely as he was was his bald editor.

[Cat Puff Bell]: Looks like our Teacher Wanli’s sword is still sharp.

[Wanlizhou]: ……

[Wanlizhou]: I saw your update. Your wife’s pregnant with your second kid?

[Cat Puff Bell]: Yeah, heihei. Get that red envelope ready.

[Wanlizhou]: Congrats. Didn’t expect you to still have it in you, old man ah.

[Cat Puff Bell]: ……

Reality had taught him one lesson: even if you’re bored out of your mind, never pick a fight with a writer.

On the coffee table in the living room was Xie Yun’s business card. Gu Lizhou casually looked up the company online. It had been established just over two years ago. While they’d put out a fair number of film and television works, only one time-travel period drama had really become a hit.

Xie Yun was originally a writer, 29 this year. The drama currently in pre-production, “Secrets from the Old Days”, was based on a romance novel she had written early in her career and had received a fair amount of praise.

Who would’ve thought that this seemingly gentle and cheerful young woman was actually quite a powerhouse. Gu Lizhou now saw her in a new light.

Maybe in Zhong Weishi’s eyes, he himself didn’t seem like much of a writer either.

A couple of days ago, Cheng Yue had chatted with him on WeChat about the talent show. The open auditions were scheduled for July. If Zhong Weishi took a drama job now, that’d leave just over four months before July. Time would be tight.

But he knew this was the best opportunity Zhong Weishi had ever had. If he objected now to him taking the role, the kid would probably be really disappointed.

He went back to his room and messaged Cheng Yue.

[Stubborn Scrap Iron]: How long will it take to get the results of the open auditions?

[Cheng Yue]: Around two months or so. Our program officially airs in October. I’ll send you the online registration link when it’s ready. Don’t forget to sign him up ah.

[Stubborn Scrap Iron]: Thanks.

[Cheng Yue]: What’s there to thank me for? Wishing your precious son a brilliant future.

Gu Lizhou chuckled, then, seeing the time was about right, sent a message to Zhong Weishi.

— How was the audition?

The message came half an hour later. Zhong Weishi sent him a photo of the contract.

— They want to sign me!!!!!!!!!!

— Male lead!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before Gu Lizhou could even reply, his phone rang. Zhong Weishi had called him directly: “Did you see my message? They decided to sign me!! I’m the male lead! I’m playing this badass high jumper!”

His voice was nearly a roar, mixed with background noise and subway announcements pouring into Gu Lizhou’s ears. Gu Lizhou laughed and said, “Congratulations, ah. Dinner’s on me tonight, we’ll celebrate.”

“No, no, no! I’m treating you! I’m treating everyone!”

Zhong Weishi came home with two sample contracts. One was an actor employment contract, and the other was an artist agency contract.

In other words, beyond just this project, Qianhong wanted to sign Zhong Weishi as a full-time artist.

The second contract was out of Gu Li Zhou’s expectation.

“Are you planning to sign with their company?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I came back to ask you to give me some advice.” Zhong Weishi downed a mouthful of cool water.

Once he signed with a production company, he’d officially become one of their artists. The upside was having a team to manage him, and for roles in the company’s productions, their in-house artists would naturally be prioritized. The downside was the loss of freedom.

Many agencies didn’t allow their artists to take on jobs privately. All earnings from commercial events, TV and film roles, and advertisements had to be split with the company based on a set ratio.

Qianhong’s offer was a 50-50 split.

Signing with Qianhong meant Zhong Weishi could no longer join the talent show, and would lose any chance to sign with Tianyao. And in terms of industry influence, Qianhong was like an egg going up against a stone when compared to Tianyao.

The gap in strength was stark.

Gu Lizhou quickly brought up the talent show to Zhong Weishi. “If you sign with Qianhong now, the upside is that your future path will be more certain. But at the same time, you’ll be giving up a lot of opportunities. This show is a collaboration between Tianyao Media and the most popular streaming platform right now. The open auditions are expected to start in July, and the whole point is to discover new talent. I think maybe you should think it over a bit more?”

“No need.”

Gu Lizhou was stunned.

“I’m not signing,” Zhong Weishi smiled. “The whole reason you’re telling me all this is because you hope I can go farther, right? Otherwise, you would’ve already congratulated me and told me to sign. I trust you.”

“A promising kid.” Gu Lizhou smiled and ruffled his hair. “But don’t trust me, trust yourself.”

Truth be told, to survive in the entertainment industry, talent, looks, and hard work were the basics. If someone had one of the three, they could scr4p3 by. Two would open more doors. But people who had all three were extremely rare because luck was also an essential ingredient.

Especially in the current traffic-driven era, new-generation idols were sprouting like mushrooms after rain. Whether one could last until the end heavily depended on luck.

Some people had the looks and the skill but lacked public appeal. No matter how hard they worked, it went to waste. Others had great looks but terrible character—sooner or later, they’d fall from grace.

Fate may appear unpredictable, yet everything is subtly interconnected.

Gu Lizhou carefully read through the actor employment contract that Zhong Weishi had brought back twice and didn’t find any loopholes.

The web drama had 24 episodes in total. The kickoff ceremony was scheduled for March 6, with a projected filming period of 90 days.

Gu Lizhou did the math and then made a call to Cheng Yue.

“How long does it usually take for a web drama to go from wrap-up to airing?”

“That’s hard to say. It depends on the type of drama and how fast the post-production team is. Once everything’s done, it still has to go through the higher-ups for approval. If the content’s sensitive, it might even get cut. I’ve seen the fastest team wrap things up in three months. The slowest? Years, and it still didn’t air.”

“It’s just a regular campus inspirational idol drama. Nothing sensitive.”

“Then it should be fine. Campus dramas are pretty quick to edit too. The main thing is whether the team’s capable. Why are you suddenly asking about this?” Cheng Yue asked.

“My son’s about to take on a web drama. This won’t affect his participation in the show later, right?”

That son came out a little too naturally. Sitting next to him, Zhong Weishi glared at him and shot him a middle finger.

“That depends on the quality of the web drama. If it’s good and gets popular, it can instantly boost the actor and director’s visibility. But if it’s bad, well, you know the consequences. In serious cases, it could hurt an artist’s future. Before signing, make sure to understand the story well. If there’s anything unclear, talk to the screenwriter.”

Gu Lizhou looked up the original novel online and finished it in two hours. The plot was tight, decently written, and full of highlights. Both the male and female leads were high jump athletes, supporting each other through ups and downs. A light and sweet campus life story with an inspirational tone.

The site rating was a solid 9.2, mostly appealing to a female audience.

Gu Lizhou stared at Zhong Weishi for a while. The latter got a little flustered, turned away, and switched on the TV. “Why are you staring at me?”

That face, that physique definitely had the potential. But just thinking about this kid stepping into the public eye stirred a mix of emotions in his fatherly heart.

“Want some?” Zhong Weishi offered him a slice of apple on a fork.

Gu Lizhou took a bite and continued researching.

Looking at Qianhong’s past projects, the average time from opening ceremony to official release was about seven to eight months. Conservatively estimating, this new web drama should be out by the end of the year.

If the timing worked out just right, it would coincide with the peak of the talent show. No matter what, it would at least help him ride a wave of popularity.

Even an outsider like Gu Lizhou understood how crucial public exposure was for a newly debuted artist. If the web drama gained traction, it would definitely be a boost for Zhong Weishi.

Let’s hope fate favors him.

Zhong Weishi turned around and asked, “Do you think if I don’t sign with their company, they’ll still let me do the drama?”

“They probably will. If not, just call Xie Yun, I’ll talk for you.”

“What are you going to say ah?”

Gu Lizhou motioned with his lips, “Go on, call her. Put it on speaker.”

Since this concerned his son’s future, Gu Lizhou had already done a deep dive into Qianhong Entertainment. The company mainly handled film and TV investment and production, while its newly established talent agency had only signed a handful of artists.

Even the leads in last year’s hit historical drama were signed under different agencies.

With that precedent and his own insight as a writer, Gu Lizhou had confidence in how this phone call would play out.

Every writer wants their work to be presented in the best possible way. If that weren’t the case, Xie Yun wouldn’t be so hands-on with the drama adaptation herself.

There was less than a month left before filming started, and she was still scouting for the leads. Gu Lizhou guessed the most likely scenario: the actor she had her eye on didn’t quite match her ideal image for the role. He was in a pending state. If she didn’t find someone better in time, she’d settle for the next best thing.

If the actor was willing to sign with her agency, she’d naturally weigh the added value and make a decision. So she played a lowball strategy.

She slashed the actor’s listed salary in the company contract.

Zhong Weishi clutched his chest with both hands, heart aching like it was bleeding.

Sure enough, after some discussion, Xie Yun gave a clear response: “I’ll have someone draft a new contract and send it to your email. If there are no issues, come to the office tomorrow to sign it.”

“I’ll cover the other half they cut from your pay. Just think of it as household grocery money.” Gu Lizhou said

“Where’d you get so much money? Are you some rich second generation?”

“Nope. My dad’s a university professor, and you’ve met my mom. Because she’s too foolish, every time she starts a business it either she loses money or she gets scammed. I have money because I’m smart.”

“…”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Then tell me how you made your fortune.”

Gu Lizhou rested his cheek on his palm. “I told you before ah. Wanlizhou is me. I’m Wanlizhou.”

“Pfft, again with that.” Zhong Weishi didn’t believe it at all.

Gu Lizhou raised an eyebrow. “Let me ask you. If you had to choose between Wanlizhou and me as a roommate, who would you pick?”

“Hmm…” Zhong Weishi’s eyes rolled upward as he drifted into a little fantasy.

“You hesitated.”

“Huh?”

“You like him more, don’t you? Hah. All this time we’ve spent together, and I still lose to a writer you’ve never even met.”

Zhong Weishi had a sudden idea and pointed at him. “Didn’t you just say the two of you are the same person? Why are you making me choose?”

“…”

Forget it.

Why bother getting jealous of himself?

“I heard making games is really profitable ah. Like, one launch and you can live off it for three years. Did you make a game once and now you’re just taking a three-year break?” Zhong Weishi asked.

“More than three years. It’s enough to feed you for a lifetime.” Gu Lizhou’s tone was light.

That immediately piqued Zhong Weishi’s interest. “Is making games hard? I saw Qiangzi is still doing game livestreams. That seems to make decent money too.”

“Not hard,” Gu Lizhou glanced at him, “but you’re IQ can’t.”

Zhong Weishi slapped the table and huffed, “I choose to live with Wanlizhou!”

“……”

Ever since Gu Lizhou moved into Unit 301, Zhong Weishi’s quality of life had significantly improved. First off, the rent was now halved, and he no longer had to pay for utilities. Second, he no longer had to steal Wi-Fi. For the usual expenses, Gu Lizhou bought them all—mainly because he couldn’t stand what Zhong Weishi picked out, which were either low-quality or pirated.

The cheap Shujiajia soap in the bathroom was replaced with fruit-scented disinfectant hand wash. Blue Sunlight became “Blue Moonlight.” The expired ice cream in the fridge got tossed out, replaced with fresh meat.

Every time Zhong Weishi opened the fridge and saw the mountain of fruits, snacks, and drinks, he felt like life was just amazing.

He even found time to buy himself a new phone.

When Gu Lizhou came back from the supermarket, he saw him sitting on the couch downloading apps.

“Yo, new phone ah?”

“Yeah.” Zhong Weishi grinned happily and nodded. “Next time you hear someone’s collecting old phones, help me flag them down. Even a stainless steel washbasin would be a good trade.”

“…Sure.” Gu Lizhou weighed the bag in his hand. “I bought strawberries. You want some?”

“Of course, ah. I’m not picky,” Zhong Weishi replied without even lifting his head.

“Then go wash them,” Gu Lizhou said, placing the bag on the table.

Zhong Weishi pouted.

Being rich is being the grandfather.

Gu Lizhou chuckled, picked up his new phone, and gave it a glance. Weibo had just been logged in.

Tens of thousands of posts, the screen flooded with “hahahahahahahaha”…

Aside from a few Weibo V, he’d never seen anyone’s page with that many posts.

Gu Lizhou took out his own phone, searched for his Weibo ID, and quietly clicked Follow.

His finger accidentally brushed over the private messages, only then did he discover that the little guy had once sent him a private message.

Dated two years ago.

[-Wishiws-]: Jiayou, ah! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ I’ll always look forward to your next book!

Gu Lizhou smiled faintly.

Five minutes later.

The two of them were curled up on the couch, snacking on strawberries while watching a drama.

Suddenly, Zhong Weishi shouted, “Holy shit!” and jumped up from the couch, stomping his feet and screaming, “Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah——”

Gu Lizhou held back a laugh and asked calmly, “What happened?”

“Wan-wan-wan-wan-wan-wan—” Zhong Weishi clutched his phone, tongue-tied from excitement, “Wanlizhou replied to me! He sent me a private message!!! Oh my god, ya!!!”

He rubbed his eyes hard, and after confirming he wasn’t seeing things, started running laps around the couch, screaming again, “Wanlizhou has a new book out! Oh my god, yeah! Why am I only seeing this today? I’m such a terrible fan!”

He frantically liked, forwarded, and recommended the post like a madman, then hugged his phone and rolled around on the couch. “He replied to me! He actually replied to me! He actually reads private messages! Tell me—don’t you think this is fate or something?”

“More like cursed fate.”

Seeing how utterly uninterested Gu Lizhou looked, Zhong Weishi grabbed his head and pressed it down. “Look! Look at the private message he sent me!”

“It’s just a ‘thanks.’ You’re this excited over two words?”

“You don’t get it! He’s my male god, you know? Male god! Forget it, you wouldn’t understand even if I explained.” Zhong Weishi was on cloud nine, taking a screenshot of the private message and showing it off across all his social media platforms.

But the very next second, he ended up in a full-blown brawl on the couch with his so-called male god over the biggest strawberry in the bowl.

“Gu Lizhou, you fvcking spread your hand! I touched it first!” He yanked at Gu Lizhou’s hair with all his strength.

Gu Lizhou stuck out his tongue, gave the strawberry a quick lick, then held it out to him. “Still want it?”

“You’re disgusting! My male god would never act like this.”

Gu Lizhou couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re really something.”

---

Author’s Note:

I, Gu Lizhou, am crazy enough that I even get jealous of myself.

Zhong Weishi was a bit confused. The tone Gu Lizhou used just now was so different from usual that even a fool could tell something was off with his mood.

Thinking back, the man had been silent the entire ride from the car to the hospital.

Was it because he’d caused trouble again?

But he hadn’t forced Gu Lizhou to follow him out ah, and who the fvck could’ve expected the city inspectors to suddenly show up and try to confiscate the tricycle?

Zhong Weishi sighed and apologized first, even though he had no idea what exactly he’d done to upset Gu Lizhou. Still, apologizing couldn’t go wrong.

Gu Lizhou’s anger subsided a little. “What are you apologizing for ah?”

“For getting you hurt.”

“It’s not like you were the one who hit me.”

Zhong Weishi raised his voice. “Then what are you mad about ah?”

Gu Lizhou lowered his gaze and let out a helpless sigh. “I’m not mad.”

“Tsk.” Zhong Weishi curled his lips. That sounded just like when a girl says “I’m fine” but clearly had a ghost in his heart. But he didn’t think Gu Lizhou was the petty type. Maybe the reason he was upset was because Zhong Weishi hadn’t stayed home to watch the movie with him.

If they’d just watched the movie, none of this would’ve happened.

“Tsk what tsk?” Gu Lizhou turned to look at him.

“Can’t even Tsk? Tsk tsk tsk…”

“Childish.”

Zhong Weishi could tell he had calmed down, so he took the opportunity to thank him. “Thanks for blocking that hit for me earlier ah. I’ll treat you to a late-night snack. I’ll even cover your food expenses for the whole month, how about that?”

“Are you gonna make soup for me?” Gu Lizhou shamelessly pushed his luck.

Zhong Weishi thought for a moment. “Sure ah, but I only know how to make simple ones like chicken soup and pork bone soup. I can’t make anything else.”

Gu Lizhou, a young master who didn’t lift a finger and couldn’t tell crops apart, once again felt that the little guy was surprisingly domestic.

“Those two are good enough.”

The phone in Zhong Weishi’s pocket had been vibrating nonstop. As soon as he opened WeChat, Gu Lizhou’s eyes immediately darted over.

Luckily, it was just messages from the debt collection group, so he looked away.

Zhong Weishi sent a voice message to A’Wei: “We’re at the hospital waiting for the report, don’t worry, it’s nothing serious.”

As soon as he let go of the button, Gu Lizhou started muttering, “How is it nothing serious? I’m in so much pain I could die.”

“Huh?” Zhong Weishi gently tapped the gauze on his hand. “It didn’t even bleed, and it hurts that bad ah?”

“Why can’t it hurt if it didn’t bleed?” Gu Lizhou shot him a glare. Dying from pain was an exaggeration, but the muscles and bones in his left arm were probably injured; every movement sent a sharp pain shooting through. “Internal bleeding doesn’t count as bleeding?”

Zhong Weishi” “I’ll get that bone soup ready for you as soon as I get back.” After saying that, he looked back down at the group messages.

“Oh right, Wei-ge sent a 200 yuan red envelope. Said it’s for your medical expenses. I’ll forward it to you.”

“No need. Just send it back to him.” Gu Lizhou patted his coat pocket, only to remember he hadn’t brought his phone; it was still at home.

His gaze drifted back toward Zhong Weishi’s screen again.

After finishing the chat, Zhong Weishi got curious and tapped into Xie Yun’s Moments to take a look at what kind of stuff she usually posted.

Although the woman didn’t seem like a bad person, he still kept a bit of wariness. There were plenty of companies that lured people in under the guise of talent scouting only to scam them out of money or worse. Some even filmed shows and didn’t pay afterward. He saw stuff like that in the group chat all the time.

Meanwhile, the person next to him was already fuming, unable to hold back any longer.

“Hey, where are you going ah?” Zhong Weishi grabbed the hem of his pants.

Gu Lizhou let out a cold laugh.

“Heh.”

There it is again!

This guy was seriously impossible!

Zhong Weishi’s eyes widened like little copper bells. “Are you on your period ah?”

“Hmph.”

“…………”

Gu Lizhou stood outside the hospital for a while, letting the wind blow on him. Through the glass doors, he could see Zhong Weishi with his head down, constantly typing.

He kept telling himself—don’t get mad, can’t get mad. Whether someone adds a contact or chats with someone is their own business. He had no right to interfere.

But he was still pissed. He honestly wanted to crack Zhong Weishi’s head open and see just what the hell was going on inside.

Half an hour later, the scans came out.

The doctor said there were no major issues with Gu Lizhou’s bones; the swelling and bruising were caused by soft tissue injuries. He should avoid lifting heavy things and rest more. They prescribed some anti-inflammatory medicine.

When it was Qiangzi’s turn, the doctor pushed up his glasses and said, “Young man, you really need to lose some weight ah. Do you get regular checkups?”

Social Qiang-ge, just in his early twenties, was now being advised by the doctor to get tested for the three highs—high blood pressure, high blood sugar, and high cholesterol.

He was utterly devastated.

Since Gu Lizhou hadn’t brought his phone and couldn’t call a ride, after the three of them said their goodbyes, Zhong Weishi dragged him off to wait for the bus.

After the scans, Gu Lizhou had also had a large amount of blood drawn. Sitting on the swaying bus, Zhong Weishi stared seriously at the medical report in his hands and noticed that several indicators were below normal.

Vitamin B12, hypersensitive C-reactive protein, and Vitamin D3—all severely deficient.

Zhong Weishi had accompanied Grandma Zhao to the hospital for checkups before, so he knew that low levels in some of these blood indicators could cause anemia, tinnitus, and other symptoms.

“Do you usually get dizzy or have low blood sugar? Why are your numbers so low? You’re basically malnourished ah.”

Gu Lizhou wasn’t surprised by the report.

He had stopped taking medication for six months, his moods fluctuated, his appetite was poor, and his sleep was insufficient. There was no way his numbers would look good. But he didn’t think there was any need to make the kid worry.

“I haven’t had much of an appetite lately.”

“Because of the heat? I don’t have much of an appetite either,” Zhong Weishi said.

“You eat three bowls of rice and call that no appetite ah?”

“I can eat five bowls in the winter.”

“……” Gu Lizhou curled his lips. “You’re definitely going to have a beer belly when you’re older.”

Zhong Weishi didn’t care. “If I’m old and can’t eat as much, I’ll just eat less. I can still exercise more, like your mom, and go square dancing.”

On the bus, Zhong Weishi kept replying to Xie Yun’s messages again and again. Gu Lizhou was burning with anger the whole time.

Jealousy leads to depression, and depression makes the mouth reckless.

Once they got home, all the built-up negative emotions in Gu Lizhou finally took over.

“This soup tastes so bland. Did you forget the salt? And you didn’t skim off the blood—look how murky the broth is. I could make a better soup using my toes,” Gu Lizhou said as he stirred the chicken soup in his bowl.

“There’s still half a chicken in the fridge. Hurry up and make one with your toes, open my eyes.”

Gu Lizhou took another sip. “It’s really bland.”

Zhong Weishi shot him a look. “I made it for you and you’re still complaining? If you think you can do better, go for it ah!”

“I was just giving you an objective review. Even online purchases get rated, don’t they?”

“This is home-cooked food. No reviews allowed. And even if there were, it’d have to be a full score—anything less and I’d get upset.”

“That’s called refusing to improve.”

Zhong Weishi rolled his eyes. “Eat it or don’t. If you’re not eating, then get lost.”

“Fine, I’ll get lost.”

Gu Lizhou shut his door and launched himself onto the bed, locking eyes with the ceiling light in an intense, dramatic gaze.

The next second, he let out a heavy sigh.

Why the hell was he yelling when he could’ve just had some good chicken soup…

He only got up when he heard the door close in the room across from his. He cracked his own door open just a bit and crept toward the kitchen.

It was an old house, with the kitchen connected to the living room. The moment the light was on, the whole room would be lit up, so he could only feel his way along the wall in the dark, using the flashlight on his phone to find the rice cooker.

Inside was the untouched half chicken.

He hadn’t eaten dinner, and his stomach was hurting from hunger. Holding his phone in one hand, he tore off a chicken leg with the other, planning to dip it in soy sauce.

“Is it good?”

The sudden voice behind him nearly scared the soul out of his body. His left hand trembled, and his phone dropped straight into the chicken soup.

He sucked in a sharp breath.

The kitchen light flicked on.

He was still clutching that damned piece of incriminating chicken leg in his hand.

Might as well just die!

The whole pot of chicken soup was ruined. Zhong Weishi fished out the half-eaten chicken and the ill-fated phone, rinsing them both under the tap.

Fortunately, after blow-drying, the phone still turned on.

Zhong Weishi chopped the chicken leg into small pieces, poured a small dish of soy sauce, and pushed it in front of Gu Lizhou.

“Eat.”

Gu Lizhou bit into the chicken leg and shamefully forced it down. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

“I knew there’d be a weasel sneaking in to steal chicken in the middle of the night,” Zhong Weishi said smugly, shaking his head.

A chicken bone flew and hit him right in the middle of his forehead.

“Hey! What’s with those hands of yours?” Zhong Weishi quickly picked up the bone off the floor and threw it right back at him.

Their moods changed as quickly as flipping a page. In no time, they were sitting together eating chicken like nothing had happened.

“Why were you in such a bad mood today ah? Got something on your mind?” Zhong Weishi asked.

He still had the nerve to ask.

What was on his mind? What could it possibly be?

But of course, he couldn’t say it directly.

So he took a roundabout approach. “What could be wrong? I didn’t sleep well, didn’t eat properly, and I’m in a bad mood. You, on the other hand, look like you’re in high spirits. Was it that girl who added your WeChat that particularly made you happy ah?”

“Ah, you mean Xie Yun ah!” Zhong Weishi lit up at the mention of her, his face full of joy.

As Zhong Weishi explained the whole situation, the person sitting across from him went from frowning deeply to smiling at the corners of his mouth.

“So that’s how it went. But I’m still not sure if she’s from some scam company or not. I’ll have to check it out myself.”

“That’s how it was ah…” Gu Lizhou was absolutely thrilled inside but kept up a face like he didn’t care at all. “I thought maybe she liked you or something. I was wondering how someone could have such bad taste. I mean, she didn’t even look twice at someone as outstanding as me…”

“Scram, scram, scram, scram, scram!—”

Outside the window, night had fallen like ink, and the bright moon hung high in the sky.

Gu Lizhou lay in bed clutching his phone, smiling like a boy experiencing first love.

He typed into the search bar:

“Which countries allow same-sex marriage?”

“What are the requirements for adopting a child?”

“What are good names for a child with the surname Gu?”

“What are good names for a child with the surname Zhong?”

“Which areas in Yucheng have good school district housing…”

He kept searching until his eyes grew sore and heavy, finally drifting into sleep.

In his dream, he saw Zhong Weishi still living at the orphanage—small and thin, playing and running in the sunlight with his friends. Then he turned a corner and bumped right into him.

The next morning.

Gu Lizhou woke up to the smell of something delicious wafting through the air.

His virtuous roommate had already made a pot of congee with preserved egg and lean pork, and even fried up some shrimp cakes.

Zhong Weishi was brushing his teeth in the bathroom, and Gu Lizhou stood at the door, watching him for a while.

The foamy-mouthed one glanced back and mumbled unclearly, “Why are you staring at me like that ah? It’s awkward. You need to pee or something?”

Gu Lizhou rolled his eyes. “Hurry up. I need to brush my teeth and eat.”

Zhong Weishi shifted to the side a bit. “Then come on in and do it together ah.”

In the mirror, Gu Lizhou squeezed toothpaste onto his brush while flashing an absolutely unfair grin. “Doesn’t it feel great to brush your teeth with your handsome roommate? Starting the day in a great mood, yo!”

Zhong Weishi made a retching sound, but in his heart, a herd of wild, gleeful mud horses was stampeding in all directions.

So this was what they meant by “so handsome it makes your knees weak.”

He’d always thought he and Gu Lizhou were about the same height, since Gu Lizhou always slicked his hair back, sneakily boosting his apparent altitude. But now, standing side-by-side in slippers in front of the mirror, he realized, he was at least five centimeters shorter.

This made no sense.

“Hey, in your generation, wasn’t this height considered top-tier ah—” His “ah” ended on a strangled note because Gu Lizhou had suddenly shoved his entire head into the sink.

“What generation is mine? Dare to say that again?”

The water from the faucet poured down with a crash, and Zhong Weishi struggled frantically as he was pressed against his neck.

Warm water flooded his cheeks, bubbling up from the basin.

“Still want to talk back?”

Zhong Weishi, hands braced on either side of the sink, shook his head and blew a few dramatic bubbles in protest.

Once Gu Lizhou let go, he sprang up and gasped for air like a wet puppy just rescued from the bathtub, furiously shaking water from his head.

Gu Lizhou ducked behind the door, laughing uncontrollably.

Zhong Weishi retaliated by lowering his head. He bumped his face into Gu Lizhou’s chest and wiped himself off using the guy’s shirt like it was a towel.

After finishing up in the bathroom, the two walked out together.

Zhong Weishi looked up the address on the business card, while Gu Lizhou ladled out a bowl of congee for him.

It felt very much like a newlywed couple.

Gu Lizhou was amused by his own sudden train of thought. “Do you want me to accompany you in a later ah?”

“No need, I’m not a kid,” Zhong Weishi said while munching on shrimp cakes, still managing to give instructions between bites. “Just leave the dishes where they are, I’ll clean up when I get back. And don’t go moving stuff around with that arm of yours. If anything needs to be lifted or shifted, wait for me. The doctor said no heavy lifting.”

Gu Lizhou nodded obediently. “Yes. Good luck with the audition ah, and come home early.”

Hearing that, Zhong Weishi lit up like a cheerful little bee. Even the way he changed his shoes was noticeably lighter than usual. “I won’t take the keys ah, just open the door for me when I’m back.”

“Okay.” Gu Lizhou lowered his head and took a sip of congee, right as he heard Zhong Weishi slam his forehead into the doorframe.

“Damn it, ow!” Zhong Weishi clutched his forehead and punched the doorframe in retaliation.

Gu Lizhou lowered his head further, shoulders trembling with laughter.

The wind on the square was a little rowdy.

Gu Lizhou was carried over from behind by Zhong Weishi. Passersby on the street all turned their heads to look. He shuffled over to the flowerbed to get away from the tricycle, fiddling with his phone in one hand while covering his face with the other—perfectly embodying the attitude of “I don’t know these people at all.”

Qiangzi and the others were enthusiastically discussing how to sell these roses quickly and effectively. The four heads were huddled together, voices not too loud nor too soft, just enough for Gu Lizhou to hear.

Qiangzi said, “I think we should find a big piece of white cloth, and write something like, ‘My wife died, leaving me all alone. My kid at home has a terminal illness and needs a huge sum for treatment. I have no choice but to help the flower shop sell flowers to raise money.’ Then kneel on the ground; the more pitiful the better. We need to create this feeling that I’m a good man, but fate is just way too cruel to good men.”

Da Fei said, “Wow, Qiangzi, you’re really full of ideas.”

Gu Lizhou: “…………” This was exactly why he didn’t dare get close. He just knew it. He knew things would unfold in a way completely beyond his imagination!

He really wanted to go home and watch horror movies alone in peace!

A’Wei slapped his thigh excitedly. “Qiangzi, you’re seriously a genius! So who’s going to kneel?”

Qiangzi: “Tsk, not me. I look too rough, not pitiful enough. How about you, Wei-ge. Just looking at your face makes me feel like fate has been really cruel.”

A’Wei: “……”

Da Fei: “I think good-looking people are more eye-catching. I’ll kneel with Weishi. I can play his poor cousin from the village, begging together for the sake of their children.”

Qiangzi gave a thumbs up. “I believe in your and Shi-ge’s acting skills.”

Zhong Weishi, despite being showered with praise, somehow managed to stay sober: “Did you guys forget what Old Li said back at the station? Absolutely no illegal activities.”

“How can begging be considered a bad thing? It’s not like I’m killing and setting fires, and I’m not harming anyone ah. Besides, this isn’t just ordinary begging, I’m even giving out flowers ah. It’s an equal exchange,” Qiangzi said with a frown.

“In any case, taking advantage of others’ kindness to fulfill your own desires is just wrong! I’m not doing it!” Zhong Weishi’s tone was firm and left no room for doubt.

Gu Lizhou smiled slightly in relief.

Although Zhong Weishi wasn’t the oldest among these difficult brothers, he always carried a kind of commanding presence that said “I’m the boss.” Since he refused, the other three naturally dropped the pitiful scheme as well.

“The key is still to catch people’s attention,” Zhong Weishi, as someone with rich experience from part-time acting gigs, began analyzing. “Here’s what we’ll do. Qiangzi, see if you can call in those fox friends¹Pack of rogues. of yours.”

Qiangzi said, “My fox friends are all already here ah!”

Gu Lizhou couldn’t hold back his laughter, but he quickly realized something and forced himself to stop.

He really wanted to go home!

Zhong Weishi pouted. “Not us, I mean those friends in your group chat. In a bit, we need to create the impression of ‘Wow, these flowers they’re selling are cheap and pretty, if I don’t buy, I’ll lose out.’”

“So how do we create that exactly?” A’Wei still looked confused.

Qiangzi was the first to get it. “Stupid ah! Just ask for help!” As soon as he finished, he immediately started calling people on WeChat.

Very quickly, someone replied saying they’d head out right now.

Gu Lizhou wasn’t the type who liked to trouble others, so this kind of rallying response amazed him and even moved him a little.

What a display of hardship-born socialist brotherhood!

Qiangzi’s crowd of hype-loving friends soon began arriving at the square one after another. Just as planned, a dozen or so people surrounded the tricycle, picking and choosing from the flowers.

As expected, someone soon squeezed into the circle, eager to give it a try.

“How much for the flowers ah?”

It was A’Wei’s first time doing business in such a lively, bustling place, and he was so excited he got tongue-tied. “E-eight! Eight yuan a stem!”

“So expensive?” The boy turned and started to walk away.

“Hey hey hey,” A’Wei lowered the price with zero dignity, “Six yuan a stem! Six yuan a stem!”

“I only have three,” the boy said, pulling out three coins from his pocket.

“WeChat or Alipay also works,” Qiangzi quickly chimed in.

The boy rolled his eyes. “Selling or not? If not, then fvck off!”

Hey!—

This little brat wasn’t big, but sure had a temper! Qiangzi rolled up his sleeves, revealing a sexy 3D tattoo, and said with full force, “What kind of attitude was that? Say that again if you’ve got guts!”

The boy was clearly intimidated, froze for a few seconds, then hesitantly said, “I only have three yuan, and I didn’t bring my phone.”

Qiangzi pulled out a rose and handed it to him. “You gotta respect laborers, got it?”

“G-got it.” The boy took the rose and ran off.

A’Wei held the first bit of income in trembling fingers, moved to tears: “I’ll treat everyone to late-night snacks later!”

Gu Lizhou poured a bucket of cold water over the moment: “It’s just three yuan. That’s not even enough for bottled water.”

Everyone: “Tch!”

Soon, business started coming in one after another. Some guys bought roses for girls, some girls bought them for guys, some girls bought them for girls, and even some guys bought them for guys…

Gu Lizhou had a sudden idea. He picked the prettiest champagne rose, held it to his lips and sniffed it, then mimicked A’Wei’s gestures and carefully tied a butterfly ribbon around the flower for packaging.

“What are you doing! Don’t mess with that! We still need to sell them! What if you break it?” Zhong Weishi snatched it from his hands and stuck it back into the arrangement. “You just focus on collecting money.”

The old man trying to act romantic: “……”

As their WeChat and Alipay balances kept climbing, everyone’s faces were glowing with the joy of a good harvest.

Da Fei had to head home for something, so Qiangzi brought him to the station and came back shouting even louder:

“Flower nursery boss ran away, roses now on clearance sale ah… Valentine’s Day—if you’ve got someone, give them a surprise; if you don’t, give yourself a surprise… Buying is earning!”

“Buying is earning!” Zhong Weishi echoed like backup vocals.

A few school-aged kids passed by, holding skewers of fried chicken sticks, the smell wafting through the air.

Gu Lizhou noticed the kids eyeing the skewers and swallowing hard.

“Wanna eat some? I’ll go get you some.”

“Mhm!” Zhong Weishi grinned like a Samoyed and nodded vigorously.

Gu Lizhou bought a portion for everyone. Zhong Weishi sat on the tricycle, happily munching away.

“Want a drink?” Gu Lizhou handed over a can of Coke.

Zhong Weishi opened it one-handed and mumbled, “You really get me.” As he spoke, he held out two sticks of chicken to Gu Lizhou’s mouth. “Want some?”

Gu Lizhou beamed and opened his mouth.

When it came to coaxing kids, food really was the way to go.

Just then, a few people stepped out of the restaurant across the street.

Zhong Weishi’s gaze met with one of the girls among them. She stared at the flowers in front of him for quite a while, and he thought she might come over.

But unfortunately, she didn’t.

He felt a little disappointed.

The girl walked over to a white SUV, opened the door, then turned around after greeting a few friends and headed back.

Zhong Weishi quickly put on a smile and greeted her. “Would you like to buy some flowers?”

“How much are they ah?” the girl asked.

“The red ones are six yuan each.”

A few of the girl’s friends also came over. “Yunyun, you want to buy flowers ah?”

The group was mixed of men and women, some older, some younger. The oldest woman looked around 40, while the girl who had met his gaze earlier looked about 25 or 26.

Zhong Weishi guessed they had just come from a dinner after work and hurriedly added, “If you’re buying a lot, we can give a discount. These flowers can last for a week in water.”

“Then wrap a bouquet for me,” the girl named Yunyun said.

“How many?” A’Wei asked.

The girl thought for a moment. “I’m putting them in a vase, so not too many. Around twenty should do.”

A’Wei couldn’t help chatting when he saw a pretty girl. “You’re so pretty, no one sent you flowers today?”

“No one’s chasing me.” The girl turned to ask her friends, “Do you guys want some too? I can get a few for you. They look nice at home.”

The girl was lively and talkative, and even performed a magic trick on the spot, making a rose vanish in front of everyone.

Zhong Weishi was amazed. “Awesome ah. How did you do that ah?”

“Wanna know?” The girl raised an eyebrow. “Add me on WeChat and I’ll tell you.”

“Ooh~~~~” The crowd around them erupted in playful teasing.

Gu Lizhou stood to the side with his arms crossed, watching coldly. He rather admired the girl’s boldness, and at the same time figured that Zhong Weishi wouldn’t embarrass a young girl like that in front of so many people.

Sure enough, after collecting the money, the kid pulled out the phone from his pocket.

But before the girl could even open WeChat, a harsh voice suddenly interrupted them: “What are you all doing here? Who gave you permission to sell things here?”

—It was three patrolling city management officers.

A’Wei was so scared. “We can’t sell here? Sorry, sorry, we’ll leave right away.”

One of the officers, a buzz-cut man, gripped the handlebar of the tricycle. “Leave the tricycle. Come claim it tomorrow at the City Management Office.”

There were still over a thousand yuan worth of unsold roses on the cart—if they went back empty-handed, his family would definitely skin him alive. With a thud, A’Wei dropped to his knees, switching to performance mode: “Dage, dage, we’ve got elders and children at home, we rely on these flowers to survive! The wedding company that used to contract our flower fields went bankrupt this year, we’ve got dozens of acres of roses with nowhere to sell them. We really have nowhere else to go ah… Begging you to let us off this time.”

Gu Lizhou hid behind Zhong Weishi, trembling with laughter.

Why do such weirdos even exist in this world ah?

One of the city management officers looked young, probably just started on the job. With sympathy in his eyes, he said, “Maybe I can buy a few from you guys. How much are these ah?”

But the buzz-cut officer shot him a fierce glare, and the younger one had to back off. The third officer just kept taking pictures for evidence.

Gu Lizhou quickly threw a scarf over Zhong Weishi’s head to cover his face.

“You’re disturbing public order! Look at this crowd you’ve gathered. What do you think this place looks like now? Pack it up and move out! You don’t know stalls aren’t allowed here?”

A’Wei scrambled up from the ground, nodding repeatedly, “Okay, okay,” but the city management officer still wouldn’t let go of the tricycle. “You can pick it up tomorrow after paying the fine at the office!”

Qiangzi rolled up his sleeves. “On what grounds ah? You own this street? Why can those old ladies do square dancing here and we can’t sell flowers?”

“Rules are rules!” The buzz-cut officer didn’t waste time and pressed his walkie-talkie. “Dispatch, send a vehicle to Zhong-Yuenan Square. Got a tricycle to haul.”

“fvck!” Qiangzi threw down the rose in his hand and shouted provocatively, “What the hell does it have to do with you whether I sell or not? Like hell I’m scared of you ah!”

Zhong Weishi, realizing things were going south, quickly reached out to pull Qiangzi back, but it was already too late.

Qiangzi’s slap came crashing down like a tidal wave. The buzz-cut officer fell right off the tricycle. He barely steadied himself and hadn’t even spoken yet when Qiangzi gave him another solid shove in the chest.

“fvck your mother! Don’t push it when I’m being polite ah!” the buzz-cut roared.

One look at the buzz-cut officer’s face and it was clear he wasn’t the type to back down. That shove ignited a full-on brawl.

The crowd, which had originally gathered close, shrieked and scattered to a safer distance.

Qiangzi and the officer wrestled together in a deadlock, neither gaining the upper hand.

Zhong Weishi immediately shoved a confused A’Wei onto the tricycle. “Run! What the hell are you standing there for?!”

Gu Lizhou helped clear a path through the crowd. A’Wei instantly caught on to Qiangzi’s intention and slammed his feet down on the pedals.

“Hey!—Don’t run!” the young officer whistled sharply. “Stop!”

But A’Wei didn’t care about anything anymore. His legs were practically motorized as he pedaled madly into a dim alley.

The young officer jumped on his e-bike and went after him.

With A’wei gone, Zhong Weishi immediately turned to break up the fight between Qiangzi and the buzz-cut officer. He definitely didn’t want to end up being dragged back to the station to see Old Li again.

The buzz-cut officer was tall and burly. Under a two-on-one situation, Qiangzi was clearly at a disadvantage. He had already taken a slap across the face and, eyes bloodshot, tried to kick back at the officer. Gu Lizhou wrapped his arms around him from behind, dragging him sideways with all his might. “Stop it! Don’t make things worse!”

But the buzz-cut officer took the opportunity to land a punch on Qiangzi.

That punch landed squarely on Qiangzi’s abdomen. Gu Lizhou was close enough to hear the painful groan that came from him.

“fvck.” Zhong Weishi had been planning to keep things from escalating, but the moment that punch landed, he could no longer hold back.

Everyone could tell that Qiangzi had been deliberately provoking the officers to draw them away, he hadn’t truly fought back. But that officer’s punch had been full force, the kind that could seriously injure someone.

Qiangzi’s insides spasmed with pain. His massive frame crumpled down, squatting on the ground.

Zhong Weishi grabbed the back of the buzz-cut officer’s neck and returned the blow, landing it right in the officer’s stomach. At that moment, another city officer came from the side wielding a safety helmet, swinging it hard toward Zhong Weishi’s back.

It all happened in a split second.

Gu Lizhou was directly facing Zhong Weishi and clearly saw his shoulder flinch. Zhong’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and when they opened again, his pupils dilated—a visceral reaction to intense pain.

The screams from the surrounding crowd rose several octaves in that instant. A few men rushed in to pull Qiangzi and the buzz-cut officer apart.

Gu Lizhou had originally been trying to think of a calm way to de-escalate the situation—hide if they could, apologize if they couldn’t—but the moment he saw the city officer raise the helmet again toward Zhong Weishi’s face, he completely lost it.

His mind went blank. His body moved faster than his thoughts, throwing himself forward to block the blow.

At that moment, there was only one thing echoing in his head: Zhong Weishi’s face mustn’t get hurt.

The helmet clattered to the ground, and the visor shattered.

Zhong Weishi turned his head and saw a face just inches away.

Before anyone else could react, Qiangzi had already taken off his jacket and wrapped it around the city officer’s neck from behind, yanking him backward with all his strength while swearing, “Touch my bro? Tired living?”

Just as the situation was spiraling in an utterly unexpected direction, a white SUV screeched to a stop right in front of them. The driver stuck her head out from the window. “Get in!”

It was the same girl who had bought flowers earlier.

“Hurry up ah!”

Zhong Weishi leapt into the car like a swallow in flight. Behind him, the buzz-cut officer roared furiously, probably shouting threats like “just you wait.”

For a brief moment, Zhong felt exactly like a crime boss in a police movie, surrounded by police, dragged away by a loyal subordinate in a desperate escape.

So cool ah!

That is, until he noticed that Gu Lizhou, who had gotten in after him, hadn’t shut the car door. He quickly reached across to close it, nervously pulling it shut.

“Is your arm okay? Can you move it?”

Gu Lizhou had used his arm to block that helmet swing earlier. Under the dim streetlight, a swelling was visible on his left forearm.

It was sore to the touch, and there was a tingling sensation.

“Can you turn the light on? Thanks,” Zhong Weishi asked.

When the interior light came on, Zhong finally noticed just how pale Gu Lizhou’s face was. Sweat dotted the tip of his nose.

“Does it hurt a lot? Let’s go to the hospital and get an X-ray,” he said, clearly worried.

This time, Gu Lizhou didn’t argue. Qiangzi turned around from the front passenger seat and looked over. He asked the girl, “Can I trouble you to take us to the hospital? I’ll transfer you the fare.”

“No need. That was my plan anyway,” she said, stepping on the gas.

Gu Lizhou and Qiangzi were both admitted for emergency care—one to get an X-ray on his arm, the other on his ribs. Zhong Weishi sat on a long bench in the waiting area, completely drained, letting out a deep sigh. From the plaza to the hospital, his heart hadn’t slowed down once.

Qiangzi was still able to bullshit with the girl in the car, so he guessed it was nothing serious. He was worried whether Gu Lizhou’s arm was fractured.

Who would’ve thought that selling flowers could lead to a fight with the city officers? Life really was a landmine at every turn.

Once again, the face that was close at hand came to mind.

He reached up and touched the red string on his wrist. When they were checking his wound earlier, he had noticed the red string was still on Gu Lizhou’s hand too.

All those moments of throwing caution to the wind, it was getting harder and harder for him not to think about how Gu Lizhou felt about him.

The emergency room was empty outside at this hour, with only a few nurses on duty.

Outside, the sky had gone completely dark. Zhong Weishi pulled out his phone and saw a new message in the group chat. A’Wei said the younger city officer had let him off the hook, and he’d made it home safely.

After all that chaos, they hadn’t made much money, and instead Gu Lizhou and Qiangzi had ended up injured. Feeling guilty, A’Wei sent two red packets to the group, calling it “medical reimbursement.”

Zhong Weishi accepted one and forwarded it to Gu Lizhou.

“Aren’t you going to get yourself checked, just in case?” the girl came over and handed him a bottle of mineral water.

“Thanks.” Zhong Weishi moved his shoulders and arms a little. “I have thick skin, it’s fine.”

The girl laughed lightly. “I’m Xie Yun.”

Zhong Weishi shook her hand. “I’m Zhong Weishi. Wei as in future, Shi as in time.”

“Weishi, what a unique name ah.” Xie Yun sat beside him. “How old are you? Are you still in school?”

“I’m with the Nanhu Theater Group,  not in school anymore. I’m 22 this year, turning 23 after the New Year.”

“So young ah?” Xie Yun took out a business card from her bag and handed it over. “I’m from Qianhong Entertainment.”

Zhong Weishi took the card and nearly popped his eyes out when he saw her title: Deputy General Manager. He suddenly felt she might not be as young as she looked.

Xie Yun got straight to the point: “Our company is currently preparing a youth campus web drama. It’s called “Secrets of the Old Days”. Not sure if you’ve heard of it?”

Zhong Weishi had a feeling what the business card was for, but he still answered honestly, shaking his head, “Sorry, I don’t really watch campus dramas, to be honest.”

“That’s okay.” Xie Yun smiled. “To be honest, the moment I saw you in the square earlier, I felt like you really fit the image of the male lead I had in mind. Your smile is youthful and really infectious. Would you be interested in acting?”

Gu Lizhou came out of the CT scan room just in time to see Zhong Weishi happily scanning the girl’s WeChat QR code, practically glowing.

“What are you doing?!”

The voice came from right behind him like a ghost, startling Zhong Weishi so badly he almost dropped his phone. He turned back. “You scared me! Done with the scan?”

“Yeah. Still waiting for the results.”

Gu Lizhou sat right between the two of them, glancing sideways at Zhong Weishi’s phone and catching sight of the successful friend request.

He thought that this woman was really persistent and the purpose of driving them to the hospital was to add Zhong Weishi on WeChat. If he had known earlier, he should’ve called the police instead.

Xie Yun stood up and said, “It’s getting late. I’ll head off first. Bye-bye.”

Gu Lizhou turned his head slightly with a frown, just in time to see Zhong Weishi grinning like a Samoyed, nodding enthusiastically, “Bye-bye.”

……

He had only gone in for a scan and the kid had already run off with someone else.

The old man had mixed feelings inside, and a series of indecent English words floated through his mind.

It felt as if the temperature in the entire waiting hall had dropped twenty degrees in an instant.

Zhong Weishi, oblivious to it all, turned his head and noticed the bandage now wrapped around Gu Lizhou’s hand. He asked, “Is your hand okay? Does it still hurt?”

“Heh.” Gu Lizhou let out a cold laugh. “Do you even care?”

---

Translator’s Note: Hi, hi! Hope you enjoyed my 5-chapter streak to make up for past weeks! Will come back to once a week again o7

Zhong Weishi had only eaten a serving of dumplings for breakfast, so he was starving by now. He devoured the food like a ravenous wolf, shoving four or five pieces of meat into his mouth at once. Gu Lizhou didn’t even have time to flip the meat, let alone eat any himself. Even the minced meat was gone before he could touch it.

“Slow down, it’s not a race,” Gu Lizhou said as he added several more chicken wings onto the grill.

Zhong Weishi replied, “It’s fine, my throat’s wide, nothing can get stuck.”

“…” Why did that sound like a drainage pipe?

Halfway through the meal, Zhong Weishi’s phone suddenly rang.

Unknown number.

He answered on speaker.

“Hello, this is Sunshine Real Estate. We’ll soon be launching a new housing development in the west district of Yucheng. Would you be interested in learning more?”

“How big are the units ah?”

“We have 90, 120, and 140 available.”

Zhong Weishi spat out a chicken bone. “Too small la.”

Gu Lizhou let out a snort of laughter.

“Then what size are you looking for?”

“At least around 800 to 900 square meters.”

“We also have standalone villas. Will you be paying by mortgage or in full?”

“Of course in full. I’m not short on cash.”

The young woman, excited by his boldness, asked cheerfully, “Then when would you be available to come take a look?”

“Well, that depends on when I can secure a loan. Do you have any loan services that don’t require collateral?”

Gu Lizhou collapsed onto the table, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Why are you messing with the poor girl?”

Zhong Weishi hung up the phone. “I was just killing time anyway.”

Gu Lizhou thought for a moment and asked, “Do you want a big house?”

“No shit. Who doesn’t?”

Gu Lizhou pressed his lips together, then smugly pointed at his own chest. “I’ve got money. And a big house…” He was about to say, If you want to live there, you can move in anytime, but he didn’t expect Zhong Weishi quickly cut in.

“So what if you have a house? Why are you acting all excited ya? If you really want to show off, be like Qiangzi and go shout under a shopping mall.”

“…” Great. Hot face slapped against a cold ass.

Zhong Weishi poured him another glass of juice. “You gotta stay low-key, got it? Don’t flaunt your wealth. Stop going on about how rich you are, it makes you sound like a nouveau riche. What if one day you run out of money? How embarrassing would that be, right?”

Gu Lizhou rolled his eyes at him. “You were yelling about getting rich at the airport.”

“That was with you, you’re not an outsider. But when you’re out and about, flaunting your wealth like that, what if you get targeted by some criminal gang? Huh? Snatchers on motorbikes grabbing bags, necklaces, and watches. How scary…”

Zhong Weishi went on and on with his chatter, but all Gu Lizhou really heard was that one line: You’re not an outsider.

As he grilled the pork belly, he mumbled under his breath, “It’s not like I show off to anyone else either ah…”

Too bad his voice was too soft and drowned out by the background chatter.

They ended up eating lunch for over an hour. By the time they got back to the apartment, it was already past three. Zhong Weishi bustled around, helping Gu Lizhou unpack and make the bed.

Gu Lizhou’s suitcase was a 30 inches, so massive it looked like he was shipping a washing machine.

At first, unpacking was kind of exciting, especially since it was full of Gu Lizhou’s personal belongings.

Laptop, headphones, tablet, Kindle… Aside from a ton of electronics, there were also all kinds of strange and curious gadgets Zhong Weishi couldn’t even name.

And of course, Gu Lizhou’s underwear…

Apparently, the size was bigger than his own.

That made no sense!

After happily tidying up for 20 minutes, he couldn’t help but start spitting. “Why didn’t you just move your whole house over? What’s with all these clothes? Doing a runway show? Planning to fan your feathers like a peac0ck?”

“I’m planning to live here for a long time and help split the rent,” Gu Lizhou replied casually.

The complaints from inside immediately stopped once these words came out.

Gu Lizhou found it a bit odd and took the cigarette from his mouth. “Why aren’t you saying anything? If you’re tired, take a break. I can finish up myself, it’s not like one more day matters.”

Still no response from inside. When he finished smoking and walked in, Zhong Weishi clapped his hands clean, put his hands on his hips, and said, “I’ve finished organizing everything. But there’s only one wardrobe, so for now your clothes are in my bedroom. Just come get them when you need to change.”

“Oh.” Gu Lizhou stretched out lazily on his bed. “Thanks, you’re so virtuous.”

“Move it, you useless bum.” Zhong Weishi kicked him. “You’re in the way.” With that, he quickly ran off to clean the next room.

Gu Lizhou rolled around on the bed, catching a faint scent of shampoo from the pillow.

He snuggled up to the little dog-shaped cushion on Zhong Weishi’s bed, rubbing against it. The scent, the texture, it was all familiar.

He really wanted to take a nap.

As he yawned again and opened his eyes, he saw someone standing in the doorway.

The person tossed a rag at him and roared, “If you’re going to live together, then act like it! Get over here and help clean!”

“Oh…” Gu Lizhou looked around blankly. “What do you want me to do ah?”

“Do you not have any sense? Sweep the floor! Wipe the tables ah!”

“If you’re staying at my place, then you’ll have to follow the rules. That lazy, upside-down lifestyle of yours has got to change. Housework will be shared, we each wash our own clothes and bedding. There’s a washing machine, after all. If you just eat and slack off all day, you’ll turn into a pig. Also ah, you’re getting up at eight every morning for breakfast…”

Even after getting completely scolded, Young Master Gu didn’t dare show a hint of complaint. He surrendered on the spot. “Okay, no problem.”

He folded the rag into a neat little square and slowly started wiping the table, movements so gentle it was like he was caressing a girl’s skin.

“Oh, come on ya,” Zhong Weishi really couldn’t stand it anymore. “At your pace, how long is this going to take? Watch me.” He snatched the rag away and began wiping down every corner with the speed and precision of a restaurant waiter, getting everything spotless.

“How did you even survive this long, huh? Like this—easy, right? Got it now?”

Gu Lizhou sat on a short stool, his long legs awkwardly folded up like an overgrown kid in kindergarten. He nodded pitifully. “Got it.”

They said they’d clean together, but in the end, almost everything was done by Zhong Weishi.

By the time the room was spotless, the sun was already about to set.

Gu Lizhou ordered two takeout meals, planning to curl up with the little guy on the sofa, eat, and watch a horror movie together.

Just thinking about it felt like heaven on earth.

When the creepy atmosphere of the film built up, Zhong Weishi would get scared and burrow into his arms. That would be his cue to show some masculine charm—cover his ears, tell him not to be afraid, shield him from all the darkness with his body.

“Gege is here!”

His tone had to be gentle but firm, with a kind of self-sacrificing devotion like, I’d give everything for you. He figured yelling at the ghost girl on screen would be a great way to show it.

At that point, Zhong Weishi’s attention would definitely shift from the movie to him, eyes sparkling like stars.

And in that moment of passion, a kiss wouldn’t be out of the question.

Gu Lizhou snapped his fingers, pulled out a pack of gum from his bag, and popped a piece into his mouth.

To ensure the plan would unfold flawlessly, he even messaged Cao Zhiheng on WeChat, specifically telling him not to knock on the door of 301 tonight. Then he switched his phone to silent mode.

With all the preparations in place, Zhong Weishi also received the takeout and walked towards the sofa.

He sat cross-legged, cracked open a bottle of beer, and said boldly, “Let’s eat. Weren’t you hungry? You want beer or liquor?”

Gu Lizhou, chewing gum, said, “I’m not hungry, you eat first. Let’s watch something while we eat, makes it taste better.”

“Sure, I want to watch ‘Unofficial Martial Arts.’” Zhong Weishi mumbled through a mouthful of food.

Gu Lizhou coaxed him patiently, “What’s so good about “Unofficial Martial Arts”? You’ve seen it a million times. Let’s watch a movie.”

“Movies are too long. Let’s watch a variety show. “Brave Rush Rush” it’s perfect with food. I love it when they fall into the water.”

“……” Gu Lizhou scratched his head. Of all things, he hadn’t expected the plan to get stuck at this step. Well, beginnings are always the hardest, no big deal. He just had to try harder. He’d already known that falling in love wasn’t going to be easy.

“Let’s watch a horror movie. One of those with five-star reviews online.” Gu Lizhou glanced at his expression.

Zhong Weishi was too busy devouring a chicken leg to respond. The movie began just like that.

With the curtains drawn, the spooky atmosphere he had envisioned finally took shape.

Since it was urgent, Gu Lizhou randomly picked a Thai horror movie he hadn’t seen before.

The eerie background music sent chills down their spines.

The female lead was about to open the door to a basement.

Suddenly, a terrifying, grotesque face flashed in the mirror behind her. Zhong Weishi dropped his chopsticks and hugged a small throw pillow.

Gu Lizhou silently cheered in his heart “Yes” Everything was progressing in perfect order…

The camera flickered again, and that face was now even closer to the female lead!

This time, Gu Lizhou got a good look at her features. That wasn’t even a face anymore, it looked like a waterlogged corpse ah, that had been soaking for three days, grotesquely bloated, the eyes bloodshot and barely clinging to the skin, mouth and eyes twisted, blood seeping from all seven orifices.

Sometimes the background music was even scarier than the movie itself.

Because with the music, your brain would start conjuring all sorts of terrifying images.

The screen went black, and when it lit up again, that corpse’s face filled two-thirds of the TV screen!

“”Ah ah ah ah ah!” Zhong Weishi screamed in unison with the female lead on screen.

Gu Lizhou was so startled by him that his liver and gall bladder shivered. He went from sitting upright to curling up on the sofa in a flash.

—When watching horror movies, the scariest thing is the person next to you screaming.

It took him a few seconds to recover. He reached out to wrap an arm around Zhong Weishi’s shoulders but just then, a phone rang on the coffee table.

Zhong Weishi paused the movie and picked up. “Wei-ge, what’s up?”

“Weishi, come out for a second and help me with something.”

Gu Lizhou already had a bad feeling the moment he heard that. Sure enough, as soon as Zhong Weishi hung up, he immediately turned off the TV and sprang up from the sofa. “Come on, come on, let’s go make some big money!”

Gu Lizhou clung stubbornly to the throw pillow, curled up on the sofa. “I’m not going! We haven’t even finished the movie! We still don’t know who killed the ghost lady!”

“I did! I killed her, okay?” Zhong Weishi frantically changed his shoes. “I’m heading out to make money now. You can either come with me or keep watching the movie yourself.”

“Where are you going ah?!” Gu Lizhou craned his neck.

“Sell flowers!”

Wei-ge’s family owned a flower shop. They had previously taken on a big order—supplying roses for a wedding. The groom was a nouveau riche in the real estate business, afraid no one would know how rich he was, so he went all out and ordered tens of thousands of roses to decorate the venue for the wedding scheduled for tomorrow.

Who would’ve thought that the day before the wedding, the bride-to-be would suddenly come to her senses and run off with her poor ex-boyfriend, abandoning the wealth and status.

The rich guy was furious but there was nothing he could do about it.

Naturally, the wedding was called off.

But what about those innocent, tender roses?

Wei-ge’s mom said, “They already paid for them. If we throw them out, it’s still a waste. In a couple of days, they’ll wilt. There’s no way we can sell that many in time. Might as well hustle a little and make whatever we can.”

“Sell flowers?” Gu Lizhou was utterly shocked. He pointed at himself and said, “You want me to sell flowers ah? Are you insane!”

“Think about it! Those roses, so beautiful, blooming so perfectly! They were born to be flowers, to blossom for this one moment! And now they’re just going to be tossed into the trash? What meaning does their existence have, huh?”

“…No way, no way, I’m not going.” Gu Lizhou was completely against it.

Yet 30 minutes later, he still ended up at the bustling town square.

—Watching a horror movie alone was just too lonely.

With the Spring Festival approaching, the streets were lively and crowded. To his left was a commercial pedestrian street, to his right a group of elderly women doing square dancing.

And in front of him stood a run-down tricycle that looked wildly out of place in this setting—it was borrowed from A’Wei’s grandmother, and had already been through over a decade of service. He had nearly exhausted himself hauling the roses from the flower shop to this spot with high foot traffic.

The tricycle was filled to the brim with delicate roses in various shades.

There were four men squatting on the side of the tricycle.

They were planning how to sell flowers.

If you switched the setting, this scene could’ve easily been mistaken for the moment last year when they got hauled into the police station after being mistaken for a gang.

When Gu Lizhou showed up, he had no idea things would turn out like this. The image he had of “selling flowers” was something along the lines of standing at the door of a flower shop, maybe helping greet customers, trimming a few thorns off roses or something like that—that was already the limit of what he could accept.

This wasn’t what he had in mind for Valentine’s Day.

The gap between expectation and reality was too wide.

His heart couldn’t quite take it.

Just as Zhong Weishi had guessed, the night before Gu Lizhou returned, he had dressed up deliberately—bought a new outfit, got a fresh hairstyle. At the moment, he was still wearing a pricey, well-fitted cashmere coat, hands in pockets, looking every bit like he was about to walk a runway.

He stood at a distance, staring at the tricycle loaded with flowers, completely unable to bring himself to approach it. It felt just like the time Qiangzi hadn’t had the courage to shout that sentence in the middle of the mall.

But his little friend didn’t care whether he had the courage or not.

“Hey! What are you doing just standing there like a post!? Do you have any sense of teamwork? Hurry up and come over to help yell ah!” Zhong Weishi shouted at him from across the plaza.

“………………”

---

Translator’s Note: They’re so chaotic, I can’t help but comment

Nearly half a year without seeing him in person made their reunion all the more exhilarating. From the moment Zhong Weishi got the call, his heart had been racing. By the time he arrived at the airport, it was practically about to leap out of his throat.

He sat by a flower bed and took a few deep breaths, watching the two small dots on the WeChat location grow closer and closer.

Ah, ah, ah, his heart was still pounding ah…

What to do! What to do!

He was so nervous he started pacing in place.

An airport security guard stared at him for a while and finally said, “Xiao didi, there’s a restroom up ahead, just turn left.”

Zhong Weishi gave an awkward smile. “Thanks, Uncle. I don’t need to pee.”

The security guard had seen plenty of this sort of thing before. With a knowing smile, he asked, “Meeting your girlfriend? Long-distance relationship?”

The words “long-distance relationship” made Zhong Weishi’s ears flush red. “It’s a boyfriend,” he said, then hastily tried to cover it up, “A close male friend.”

“So a good brother!” the guard said with a chuckle.

Good. Bro. Ther.

One second he’d been floating in anticipation, the next his head drooped.

Gu Lizhou really had always just treated him as a good brother.

Zhong Weishi was still chatting idly with the guard when he noticed the man’s gaze suddenly shift and focus behind him.

His heart skipped a beat and he quickly turned back.

He was sure Gu Lizhou had deliberately dressed up today too. He looked handsome on a whole new level.

The hair behind his ears was slightly grown out, taking three years off his age. The freshly cut bangs reduced his age by another three years. And he was wearing clothes Zhong Weishi had never seen in their video calls.

A neatly pressed black cashmere coat paired with slim-fit jeans, a light-colored sweater underneath, and a leather backpack slung over his right shoulder.

Though it was a fairly standard winter outfit, it couldn’t hide his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs. He was basically a walking clothes hanger—wearing anything made him look radiant, energetic, and even attracting bees and butterflies…

Because perched on his nose was that devilishly alluring pair of thin-rimmed glasses.

That face he’d seen countless times in his dreams was smiling at him.

“Long time no see ah.”

That smile was totally cheating!

Zhong Weishi’s own smile froze, and he stuttered completely, “Ah, lo—long time no see.”

It’s over, it’s over, it’s over.

All his prepared lines were gone.

He had actually sketched out the whole “long-awaited reunion” scenario on the subway. The original plan was to hide behind a pillar near the arrival area, secretly watch Gu Lizhou, then seize the chance to leap onto him from behind and give him a big hug.

Say something playful and flirty, vaguely suggestive in that harmless way.

It couldn’t be more exciting taking advantage of such moment by accidentally brushing ear and cheek!

But in reality, Gu Lizhou was pulling a suitcase with his left hand, holding two cups of milk tea in his right, with a backpack on his shoulders and a camera slung across his chest.

Eat shit la.

There was no damn angle to make a move!

Why was the gap between fantasy and real life so huge? And to think he’d just been trying to get the uncle to secretly film a heartfelt embrace.

“Want some milk tea? I added lots of boba,” Gu Lizhou asked.

Drink fart!

Half a year! I’ve missed you for half a year!

I was going insane!

And you won’t even give me a tearful, emotional hug?

Milk tea! Seriously!

You look like milk tea to me!

Zhong Weishi’s mood right now was a raging storm, even worse than the downpour on the day Yiping¹From a drama titled “Romance in the Rain.” A story of a father’s harsh relationship with his unwanted daughter and how it’s rekindled. More about it here. begged her dad for money.

But thoughts were just thoughts, his hand shot out quickly: “This tastes great!” He took a big sip and sucked up several boba pearls, eyes lighting up. “So Q!²Chewy. I haven’t had milk tea in forever.”

Gu Lizhou’s eyes curved with a smile. “Mine has popping boba. Want to switch and try it?”

Zhong Weishi thought, even if it were laced with poison, he’d still drink it ah.

The fruit tea hit his tongue, sweet and cloying.

Counted as an indirect kiss.

The storm in his heart instantly cleared.

Gu Lizhou walked behind him at a leisurely pace, heading toward the exit.

“You changed your look.”

“You cut your hair shorter.”

That long-lost sense of synchronicity made both of them exchange a smile.

Gu Lizhou patted his shoulder, genuinely complimenting him: “Looking very handsome.”

Zhong Weishi smiled back with a gaze full of affection, and earnestly commented, “You really don’t look like someone ten years older than me at all.”

“…” Gu Lizhou’s arm froze.

Technically, nothing wrong with the words, but why did it feel so…

Tsk.

What a little shit.

Gu Lizhou suddenly went quiet, and an inexplicable awkwardness spread between them.

Zhong Weishi’s eyes darted away. “The weather’s pretty nice today.”

“Mm, perfect for taking your brain out and drying it in the sun.”

“…” What a familiar pattern of poisonous tongue. No matter how this old man changed things up, he was still the same old man.

Valentine’s Day really did bring good weather. After days of nonstop rain in Yucheng, Zhong Weishi was nearly out of clean underwear. But since yesterday noon, the rain had suddenly stopped, the skies had cleared, and today’s high was close to 20°C.

A great day for a sunny stroll.

When the weather is good, the mood is good. Zhong Weishi sipped his fruit tea, walking briskly, practically floating.

“You could at least help me with the luggage ah,” Gu Lizhou called out from behind, chasing after him. “This is what you call picking someone up? You picked up the milk tea, not me!”

Only then did Zhong Weishi snap out of his giddy state and regain composure. “Oh, right, right, right. I almost forgot about you. Which one should I carry? The bag or the suitcase? Aiyo, seriously, if you were coming back, just come back. Why’d you bring so much stuff? —Oh! This this bag so heavy! What’s in here? Local snacks for me ah? Roast duck or snacks?”

Pulling open the backpack with joy, his face suddenly changed.

It was a heavy bundle of books. Thick, like high school textbooks.

“The Actor’s Self-Cultivation,” “Introduction to Acting Techniques for Film and TV,” “Royal Academy Acting Methods,” “The Actor’s Physical Art,” “Ten Lessons for Actors”…

An entire backpack with nothing but books.

Gu Lizhou’s gaze burned like fire. “Well? Do you like it? Isn’t it a surprise!”

It was simply a heavenly surprise.

Books delivered across a thousand miles.

What a heavy, noble, and completely overwhelming kind of fatherly love this was.

Zhong Weishi zipped up the bag with a gloomy face. “I thought it’d be some kind of local specialty.”

“All the good things in our place are only good when eaten fresh,” Gu Lizhou said.

Zhong Weishi pouted. “Just say you forgot, no need to make excuses.”

Gu Lizhou: “I’ll take you there to eat next time, okay?”

“Sounds great ah!” Zhong Weishi slung the backpack full of fatherly love onto his shoulders. “Let me treat you to a big meal as a favor to you!”

“Oh? Rolling in money now?”

“Hell yeah! We just got our performance pay from the past few months, over 20,000 yuan! I’m rich!”

Gu Lizhou burst out laughing. “Then I want buffet.”

“No problem!”

As they walked, Zhong Weishi suddenly remembered something and looked down. “Let me transfer you the payment for those English lessons. How much was it again?”

“Not much,” Gu Lizhou said.

“Not much money is how much money, there has to be a number.”

“You don’t have to be so polite with me…” After all, what’s mine will be yours too.

“Even real brothers settle accounts, I can’t take advantage of you, and we’re not even real brothers.”

Gu Lizhou sighed and didn’t argue further.

Zhong Weishi searched online and found two highly rated buffet restaurants. One was for barbecue, the other seafood. The seafood one was a little pricier, but fancier too.

“What do you feel like eating?” Zhong Weishi asked.

“I’m fine with anything. You just pick what you like,” Gu Lizhou said.

“No. Every time I pick, you don’t like it. You choose! Just two options, both have great reviews.”

Gu Lizhou preferred seafood, but he remembered Zhong Weishi wasn’t a big fan of fish. Every time Cao Zhiheng made fish, Zhong never touched it. In the end, he chose the barbecue restaurant.

“Hehehe… Actually, I like barbecue too. Finally, we’re on the same page for once.” Zhong Weishi happily placed the order.

Gu Lizhou looked at his cheerful expression and smiled with pursed lips.

There was a bit of distance from the airport to the restaurant. Along the way, Zhong Weishi grew curious about the camera hanging from Gu Lizhou’s chest.

“You really like photography? When did you buy this thing ah?”

“Had it for a while. Just didn’t bring it before.”

“Got any photos in it?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me see.”

Gu Lizhou casually hung the camera around his neck, powered it on, and taught him how to flip through the images.

Their heads were pressed close together, and Zhong Weishi caught a faint, familiar scent.

The camera was mostly filled with landscape shots—towering city buildings, vast green plains, scenes both bustling and serene, and even a stray kitten by the roadside, like snapshots from a journey.

Zhong Weishi didn’t know much about photography, but the compositions and colors were pleasing to the eye.

“How come you’re so good at taking photos, but when you shoot me, I look ugly?”

“I only started learning recently.”

Gu Lizhou had met a photographer in Cheng Hang’s gaming team, someone who followed them around to capture scenery.

He’d picked up a lot of photography tips from that guy.

Over the past half year, he’d poured all his longing into these photos, each one carrying his thoughts and his hope.

He wanted Zhong Weishi to see more of the world.

And he wanted to take him… to eat his way across the globe.

Just as he expected, Zhong Weishi had the strongest reaction when he came across the food photos: “fvck, this looks so good ah.”

“Craving?” Gu Lizhou asked.

Zhong Weishi nodded while flipping through the pictures, practically drooling. “This one looks good too, is that seafood risotto? The shrimp is huge.”

“Yup. Call me daddy and I’ll take you.”

“Pfft. I’m the one treating you to buffet, why don’t you call me daddy?”

Gu Lizhou: “Then call me gege.”

The moment food was involved, Zhong Weishi’s pride vanished. “Ge, I really wanna go to the seaside and eat seafood risotto!”

It felt like an arrow pierced Gu Lizhou’s chest. He realized this little rascal calling him “ge” was even more seductive than when he’d called him “daddy” on the phone last time—it made his bones go soft.

His heartbeat started going haywire.

In the old man’s mental memo, “seaside” and “seafood risotto” were now officially on the itinerary.

By the time they got to the mall, it was peak meal time. The restaurant was packed with diners, the air filled with the mouthwatering aroma of grilled meat and the sizzling sound of it cooking, appetite-inducing to the max.

As soon as Zhong Weishi walked in, he spotted a little girl wrapping a huge bite of meat in lettuce, he swallowed instinctively.

“I’m starving.”

Gu Lizhou glanced around the restaurant but couldn’t find an empty seat. The server told them to wait a bit, once the next table opened up, it would be theirs.

Gu Lizhou reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of beef jerky. He unwrapped it and handed it over. “Want a bite to pad you over?”

Zhong Weishi was still fiddling with the camera, trying to snap a photo of the chef grilling steak. Something came near his mouth, and he opened it without thinking.

When his lips brushed against Gu Lizhou’s fingertips, the soft, moist touch sent a jolt straight through his palm, nearly making him drop the piece of jerky.

That tingling sensation rippled from his fingertips all the way down to his limbs.

He stared intently at Zhong Weishi’s profile, rubbing his fingers together.

Enchanted. Sweaty palms.

“Look how well I’m shooting!” Zhong Weishi asked as he chewed on the jerky.

Gu Lizhou glanced down at the flat and unappetizing steak that even his little kindergarten niece could shoot. He complimented, “You’ve really got talent.”

“I think so too.” Zhong Weishi turned to snap more food shots.

Gu Lizhou reached into his pocket for another piece of beef jerky, tempted to feed it to him again but hesitated, worrying that it was just a coincidence What if he refused it this time? Would that count as a failed test ah?

He hadn’t even been this nervous waiting for his college entrance exam results

Just as he lifted his hand, Zhong Weishi suddenly turned his head. Gu Lizhou shoved the jerky into his own mouth and turned away to watch the chef stir-frying noodles.

“Got more? I want another,” Zhong Weishi said.

“Yeah—yeah, of course ah.” He was stammering.

After feeding the kid, the old man pulled out his phone and quietly put a check mark next to a line in his notes: “Willing to eat food you feed him.”

The project’s progress was much faster than expected. Gu Lizhou added, “There’s a chance I can make it back before the New Year.”

“Really ah?” Zhong Weishi couldn’t hide the joy in his voice.

“En, I just have one last storyline to fix,” Gu Lizhou said.

Zhong Weishi quickly replied, “Then go fix it quicky ah! I’ll hang up first!”

“Hey, wait,” Gu Lizhou asked, “Has Old Cao’s girlfriend moved in yet?”

As soon as this topic came up, Zhong Weishi’s voice suddenly turned coy, “Moved ah, why?”

Pretend! Keep pretending!

Gu Lizhou sounded calm, but he was in high spirits. “Oh, that’s nice.”

Zhong Weishi bit his fingernail, hesitating, “So are you planning to stay at my place when you come back? If you’re staying with me, I need to prepare the bed in advance.”

“Is it troublesome…”

“No trouble! No trouble! It’s just a matter of putting on a quilt cover!”

Gu Lizhou swallowed back the second half of his sentence, “If it’s troublesome, I’ll just squeeze in with you,” right at the edge of his throat.

But it didn’t matter. He was going back anyway.

*

All of the game’s storylines were revised before the New Year, and Gu Lizhou returned home to spend the Little New Year with his father.

After Gu Zisheng and Li Yuqin divorced, both remained single. Gu Lizhou’s personality was exactly like his father’s—like squeezing toothpaste, someone else always had to start the conversation.

After Gu Lizhou started earning money from publishing books, he moved out, only coming home during holidays.

The father and son sitting together looked like two stone lions.

“Dad, I’m spending the New Year in Yucheng this year,” Gu Lizhou said.

Gu Zisheng poured him a cup of tea. “Going to accompany your mom ah?”

“Mm…” Gu Lizhou didn’t want to lie. After a pause, he added, “With a friend.”

“You dating someone?” Gu Zisheng asked.

“No,” Gu Lizhou already had someone’s smiling face pop into his mind. He looked down and chuckled, “Not yet, but who knows in the future.”

Gu Zisheng slung an arm around his shoulder and gave him a shake. “That’s good ah! When are you bringing them home for Dad to see?”

“Dad,” Gu Lizhou turned to look at him. “What do you think matters most when choosing a partner? Love or all the practical stuff?”

“You have to weigh both. But truly perfect marriages are rare. The most important thing should be that you really like the person. Only when you genuinely like someone will you want to understand them, accept them, and tolerate them. The practical stuff can be figured out over time. But if you don’t love someone, nothing else will work.”

Gu Lizhou smiled. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

Right before the New Year, Gu Lizhou stayed home and wrote tens of thousands of words. Then he messaged his editor on Q.

His editor’s screen name was “Cat Puff Bell,” and the avatar was a cute cat teacher from a Japanese healing anime. They liked to send silly, cutesy stickers, but when it came to chatting, they talked like a total brute—nine and a half minutes out of any ten-minute chat were filled with dirty jokes.

The two of them had never met offline, and Gu Lizhou never quite figured out if they were male or female. But deep down, he just assumed the editor was a guy.

By his count, it had been over ten years—by now, probably a greasy, bald middle-aged man.

The first thing the editor said after adding Gu Lizhou as a friend back then was: “Kid, you’re gonna blow up! As long as you work with me, I guarantee you’ll blow up! Huge!”

It sounded like someone selling health supplements. But in the end, the guy really did manage to sell Gu Lizhou’s… books for a solid price.

This man poured all his energy into cultivating writers—offering comfort when they were down, and dishing out beatdowns when they succeeded. His favorite saying was: “Everything is fleeting. You need to stay calm. Calm.” He sounded like a monk chanting scriptures at an old temple.

Gu Lizhou’s editor was always the first to read and give feedback on all his works.

Gu Lizhou liked to call him Bo Le¹a good judge of talent.–xiong²elder brother, while the editor’s nickname for him had evolved from “Wan Lizhou” to “Xao Zhou Zhou,” and later to “Teacher Wan Li.”

When Gu Lizhou announced he was retiring from writing, his Bo Le also sank into a slump for quite a while and almost quit Xinghe Century. It took Gu Lizhou to talk him out of it.

[Wan Lizhou]: Bo Le-xiong, are you there? I’ve got something good for you to check out.

The greyed-out avatar on the other side lit up.

[Cat Puff Bell]: !!!!!!!!!!!!

A long string of exclamation marks burst out with the joy of reunion after a long absence, practically spilling excitement from the screen.

[Cat Puff Bell]: Oh my god ah!!!! I thought I’d never see you online again!

[Wan Lizhou]: I’m not dead.

[Cat Puff Bell]: Hateful!! You went offline for so long, I missed you so much! Without you around, I couldn’t even get it up anymore. (ノω<。)ノ))☆.。

[Wan Lizhou]: ……

Once he confirmed it really was him, Gu Lizhou sent over the character outline and the sample chapters. The other party downloaded them right away.

Half an hour later.

[Cat Puff Bell]: Good! Great! Really great! But it’s just missing a bit of flavor.

Gu Lizhou frowned: What flavor?

[Cat Puff Bell]: The flavor of romance. The plot is engaging, yeah, but the emotional line with the female lead feels a bit thin.

As someone who had been solo since birth, romance had always been Gu Lizhou’s weak spot. In the past, when writing ensemble fantasy stories, he could use all sorts of entanglements and drama to fill the gaps. But in realistic stories like this one, he struggled with pacing the development of romantic relationships.

Switching genres was a huge challenge for him, but he chose to take the advice.

[Cat Puff Bell]: Whether it’s a male and a female, or a male and male, either way, you gotta add some spice and sweetness. Your male lead’s setup is way too much of a chick magnet. Girls aren’t into that these days.

[Wan Lizhou]: Then what are they into?

[Cat Puff Bell]: They like the male lead and the second male lead falling in love.

[Wan Lizhou]: …

[Cat Puff Bell]: Just kidding hahaha, I’m not telling you to write danmei³BL. But you could emphasize the brotherhood♂ more. As for the romance with the female lead, go heavy or light as you wish. Or turn it into a love triangle, that works too. Hey, have you seen “Xiao Ying”?

[Wan Lizhou]: Read the novel.

[Cat Puff Bell]: Although there is no romance it’s got that strong, socialist brotherhood. The investigation plot was super professional, and the emotional arcs were intense. Audiences love that stuff now. Of course, my advice is just for reference—what matters most is that you write what you want to write.

[Wan Lizhou]: Got it. I’ll tweak the emotional line a bit and send it to you once it’s done.

After fussing over his writing, the bald editor started fussing over his love life. When Gu Lizhou admitted he was still single, the editor completely lost it.

[Cat Puff Bell]: I fvcking. When I was single, you were single. When I started dating, you were still single. I’ve got a kid old enough to buy soy sauce and you’re still single? Gu Lizhou, are you even capable or what ah?

All honorifics vanished the moment they started talking real-life.

[Wan Lizhou]: I’m working on it.

[Cat Puff Bell]: Oh? What stage are you at?

[Wan Lizhou]: Flirting.

[Cat Puff Bell]: How much flirting?

[Wan Lizhou]: Very much flirting.

[Cat Puff Bell]: Who is it? Another writer?

[Wan Lizhou]: Go search Sparrow Channel. On the 5th of last month, around noon, there was a game show called “Brave Rush Rush”. The best-looking guy on that episode.

[Cat Puff Bell]: …You’re full of fart.

Gu Lizhou directly tossed over a video link: The guy in the black hoodie at 32:57.

This show’s online views were relatively high compared to others in its genre. After recommending it, Gu Lizhou clicked in to rewatch it himself.

He wasn’t sure if the uploader had recently hyped the video, but the last time he watched it, there were only around a hundred comments floating on screen. Now there were over 1,600.

The moment the video started, a bright floating comment appeared: “Weibo tourists, skip straight to 32:57. You’re welcome.”

After he skipped to the timestamp precisely, he found that Zhong Weishi was now completely covered by a barrage of colorful bullet comments, making his face practically invisible.

Commenter 1: Hahahahahahahahaha why is he so adorably dumb?

Commenter 2: Why didn’t I discover him sooner? I really want to see him in a stage play!

Commenter 3: That face is insane, he’s ridiculously good-looking. At 03 seconds, I saw his abs!!

Commenter 4: I swear I’ve seen this guy somewhere before. He looks really familiar ah.

Gu Lizhou thought to himself: Maybe what you saw was that palace maid who fed gr4p3s to Emperor Shunzhi.

About five minutes later.

[Cat Puff Bell]: Holy shit! This guy’s cheating, right? Is he mixed? He looks like some fvcking plastic surgery model. You actually know him?

Gu Lizhou replied with the secretly recorded late-night “little hamster” mukbang video from the night before they parted.

This person, who usually posted raw, filter-free selfies like an old man, actually went out of his way to download a beauty cam app just to edit that short clip. He added cutesy cat ears and a soft pink shy face effect, and even slapped on some ridiculously sugary background music that was sweet enough to give someone a sore throat.

This wave of dog food was a bit hard to swallow.

[Cat Puff Bell]: Not bad at all. Wishing you instant success in the new year! If you’ve got any confusion in the love department, come to me for advice—no consulting fee!

—

Gu Lizhou booked a flight for the day before Lunar New Year’s Eve. That day also happened to be Valentine’s Day, which made deciding on a gift a little easier.

[Cat Puff Bell]: fvck, Valentine’s Day ah?! Just book a room already! Why bother with all the extra steps?

[Wan Lizhou]: There has to be a gradual process! Besides, I still can’t be 100% sure he’ll accept me.

[Cat Puff Bell]: In that case ah, try testing the waters a bit.

[Wan Lizhou]: How?

The editor sent over a chart listing more than twenty types of intimate behaviors like “doesn’t shy away from physical touch,” “lets you pinch his ear without dodging,” “willing to eat food you feed him,” and so on.

Gu Lizhou carefully noted them down into his phone’s memo app.

[Cat Puff Bell]: If he checks off more than 10 of those, it’s basically a done deal. Then just set up a romantic atmosphere—wine, champagne, wireless home theater, watch a horror movie, hold hands, cuddle up, and get a little tipsy. That’s how adult relationships usually go.

[Cat Puff Bell]: A romantic atmosphere.

“…………”

[Wan Lizhou]: Alright, I’ll give it a shot.

—

Valentine’s Day.

Zhong Weishi was still snoring in bed, when his phone on the bedside table rang nonstop. He squinted and swiped to answer. “Hello,” he mumbled.

In a hazy daze, he heard a familiar voice.

“I’m flying back to Yucheng today. Do you have time to pick me up at the airport?”

A surprise dropped from the sky.

Zhong Weishi jolted upright like a carp leaping from water, every cell in his body instantly waking up.

“Free, free ,free! I’m getting up right now to wash my face and brush my teeth! Wait for me ah!”

“No rush, I’m just about to take off. I’ll arrive in about three hours. It should be about the same when you get to the airport around ten o’clock. We can have a meal together nearby.”

Zhong Weishi nodded like pounding garlic.

Gu Lizhou was still uneasy and reminded, “Be careful on the way.”

“Mm-hmm! You too!”

After the wave of joy, Zhong Weishi looked in the mirror and instantly started stressing over his appearance.

Lately, he’d been so busy studying and performing that he barely had time to sleep. He hadn’t shaved in days, and it had been three or four months since his last haircut. His bangs covered his eyebrows, and his thick, unkempt hair had fluffed into a bird’s nest. On top of that, he was wearing a pilled sweatshirt and sweatpants, looking like someone out scavenging trash.

He quickly changed into a new outfit. Though it was still just a sweatsuit, at least this one wasn’t pilling. He threw on a down vest before heading out.

Barbershops weren’t open this early, so he had to go through the backdoor to find his bro.

Zhong Weishi picked up two orders of fresh meat dumplings from a breakfast shop and sprinted all the way to Da Fei’s house, offering the breakfast like a tribute.

“Who are you going to see so early in the morning ah?” Da Fei opened the door with a yawn.

Zhong Weishi wanted to say he was picking up Gu Lizhou, but felt a little embarrassed. “To audition for a movie.”

Da Fei let out an “Oh,” and led him into his small bedroom. “What kind of cut do you want?”

“Something clean. A buzz cut is fine too.” Zhong Weishi scratched his head. A buzz cut meant he wouldn’t need another haircut for months.

Da Fei was a man brimming with artistic flair—he wouldn’t even look at something as low-level as a buzz cut. He spent a full hour giving Zhong Weishi the latest trending side-parted Douyin prince charming hairstyle, paired with a black athletic headband with lettering. The look was clean, sharp, and full of youthful energy.

When Zhong Weishi opened his eyes and looked in the mirror, he nearly didn’t recognize the boy staring back at him.

“I’m about to fall in love with myself,” Zhong Weishi turned his head left and right in front of the mirror. “Da Fei, your skill is insane. Is this really me? Hm? Is this me?”

Da Fei was laughing hard. “Your face would still look good even with a shaved head ah.”

Zhong Weishi wanted to grab a broom to sweep up the hair on the floor, but Da Fei quickly pushed him out. “Go on, go to your movie audition! Don’t be late! I’ll clean up here.”

“Da Fei, you’re the greatest hidden gem in Xicheng District!” Zhong Weishi shouted as he ran off.

Da Fei leaned on the doorframe and yelled, “Hey, don’t run so fast ah! Your hair will get messed up!”

“Oh oh oh!” Zhong Weishi immediately hit the brakes and flashed him a dazzling smile. “I’ll treat you to a meal later ah!”

Da Fei waved at him with a grin.

“Song Wenfei! What the hell are you yelling about so early in the morning!” Da Fei’s mother poked her head out from the room. “I told you to stop hanging out with those good-for-nothing street punks, and you never listen. Don’t bring them home all the time. It’s noisy as hell. I worked overtime until midnight, can you just let your mom sleep in peace?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? He’s my friend! He’s not a punk!” Da Fei frowned.

“He doesn’t have a real job. If that’s not a punk, what is?”

“He’s got a proper job now. He’s acting in a drama troupe.”

Da Fei’s mom let out a sarcastic snort. “Who even watches drama these days? How much money can that bring in each month? All he does is dream about being a celebrity. You think anyone can become a big star on TV? If you’re not born with that kind of luck, then face reality and get a proper job. You have to stay grounded, understand?”

They really had nothing to say to each other anymore.

Da Fei slammed the door shut with a loud bang, locking it from the inside.

His mother shouted furiously from behind the door, “You brat!”

Zhong Weishi, terrified of ruining his new hairstyle, even craned his neck while riding the subway, determined not to let a single strand of hair be touched.

A few stops before the airport, seats opened up. He sat with his legs tightly pressed together, back straight, and didn’t dare doze off against the window like he usually would.

His earbuds were in, playing the online English course that Gu Lizhou had signed him up for. He downloaded the whole thing and listened to it during spare moments like it was a comedy podcast. From time to time, he would silently mouth a few of the words.

When Gu Lizhou first signed him up, he said: “A lot of artists these days are going international. What if you get dragged onto a red carpet and a foreign reporter interviews you? What are you gonna say—‘love who who,’ ‘we two who and who,’ or ‘you me you me’? Trying to kill them with laughter?”

Thinking of that, Zhong Weishi lowered his head and let out a quiet snort.

A girl sitting across from him nudged her friend with her elbow. The two exchanged a glance, grinned, and pretended to take a selfie, just to capture that boy’s smiling face.

As he got off the train, Zhong Weishi tilted his head to check his reflection in the glass.

His hair was still perfect and he looked handsome.

Gu Lizhou sent him a WeChat.

– I’ve landed. Are you here yet?

– I’m at the T2 lobby.

– Don’t move around and don’t get lost again. I’m walking over now.⁴You might be confused with this and the chapter title. Author shortened the title from this sentence.

– OKK!

Just two weeks ago, Qiangzi, the group’s all-knowing gossip, overheard people in the group chat talking about a large-scale challenge show being filmed in Nancheng. The equipment was trendy and advanced, and the gameplay was incredibly exciting, not only did it require physical strength, but also brains.

[Netizen 1]: I heard anyone can participate, and the prizes vary. Too bad I only made it halfway. You can only sign up once.

[Netizen 2]: Qiangzi, you’re strong, you’ll definitely do well. Go give it a try.

[Netizen 3]: It’s not all about strength, actually. The key is using your brain, some stages require understanding the rules of balance.

[Netizen 4]: I made it halfway and got a bottle of peanut oil. Qiangzi-ge, jiayou ah!

[Netizen 1]: Why didn’t I get any peanut oil?

Playing a game that puts you on TV and gives out prizes. How could Qiangzi’s ragtag group of debt-chasing gang miss out on such a good deal?

Debt Collection Team group chat lit up.

[Huangfu]: It’s real, real. Just going there gets you a bottle of peanut oil.

[Wei-ge]: How big a bottle of peanut oil ah?

[Huangfu]: Should be pretty big.

[Da Fei]: @Weishi Ge, are you going?

[Weishi]: I still got acting class and English class on the weekend. No time.

[Da Fei]: What’s with the extra English class la?

Zhong Weishi pressed his lips together in a small smile, feeling proud but trying to keep it low-key.

[Weishi]: Your Gu dage bought me an online course. It’s such a pain.

[Da Fei]: So good? What course is it ah? I wanna learn English too.

[Huangfu]: No time? Then forget it.

Right after Qiangzi’s message, he followed up with a digital poster of the challenge event. At the center of the poster was what looked like an ordinary washing machine, but beside it was a line of bold, visually striking text:

First Prize: One fully automatic washing machine worth 3999!

Zhong Weishi’s eyes widened.

That was 3999!

And so, the four little friends set off at 5 a.m. the next morning, full of anticipation as they boarded the earliest bus to Nancheng.

Zhong Weishi and his friends sat in a corner, cheerfully humming an English song they had just learned:

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
You make me happy, when skies are grey.
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.
Please don’t take my sunshine away…”

His voice was bright and clear like warm sunlight, with a slightly teasing lilt at the end of each note—so much so that even a rough guy like Qiangzi was completely absorbed listening.

“Urgh…”

The sound of vomiting cut through the singing, and everyone on the bus looked around in confusion.

Zhong Weishi turned his head and saw that it was Da Fei.

Da Fei forgot to buy motion sickness pills before boarding and vomited to death during the three-hour ride.

Throughout the ride, Zhong Weishi sang and told stand-up jokes to distract the other passengers, covering up the sounds of vomiting and easing everyone’s nerves.

Those three hours were nothing short of explosive energy and nonstop entertainment.

When they got off the bus, Da Fei looked like a dehydrated fish, waving weakly as he said, “I’ll just stay down here and cheer you guys on.”

Wei-ge was even more impressive. When they got to the registration area, he reached into his pocket and realized he had forgotten his ID. He was so furious he stomped his feet and gritted his teeth.

“Can’t you just make an exception?”

Staff member: “Sorry, that’s a rule set by the production team.”

“Rules are dead, people are alive ya! This is really my first time coming! I rushed here all the way from Yucheng early in the morning! Spent 58 yuan on bus fare—look, here’s my ticket, I’m not lying. Seriously, little miss, I wouldn’t lie. Just look at this face. Do I look like someone who would lie?”

A’Wei poked at his thick-skinned face. Combined with his strong out-of-town accent, to the people of Nancheng, he was practically a country bumpkin straight out of the mountains.

The two young women exchanged a glance and tried to stifle their laughter.

“Just let me try once, okay? I really love your show! I watch it all the time when I eat! I’ve dreamed of joining!”

Zhong Weishi thought to himself: More like you’ve dreamed of that washing machine.

The young women still shook their heads.

Wei-ge had a flash of inspiration. “Da Fei, let me borrow your ID to register!”

And just like that, the three of them managed to sneak into the backstage area of the show.

The competition began in the afternoon. Wei-ge didn’t even get a fart at the second stage. Qiangzi made it halfway and shamelessly managed to wrangle two bottles of peanut oil, which he then gifted to Da Fei, who had screamed himself hoarse from the sidelines.

Before going on stage, Zhong Weishi took off his thick down jacket. Despite the single-digit temperature, he was only wearing a fleece-lined sweatshirt underneath. His tall, lean, athletic build made even the male host hesitate to approach.

The female host greeted him warmly, giving him a once-over as she introduced him. “I heard you’re an actor? Have you acted in any TV dramas?”

Zhong Weishi couldn’t find the camera for a moment and replied blankly, “I used to do extra work. Now I’m with the Nanhu Drama Club. If anyone’s interested, you can look us up online. We have a performance on the 20th.”

The male host joked, “Hey now, young man, it costs money to advertise on our show ah.”

“Ah?” Zhong Weishi scratched the back of his head. “But I don’t have money. Can I reintroduce myself?”

The male host burst out laughing. “No worries, we’ll cut it later.”

The female host smiled and asked, “Do you feel confident about winning our grand prize today?!”

“Yes!—” The boy’s roar was so loud it startled the female host into a shoulder jerk, momentarily forgetting to control her expression.

By the time Gu Lizhou saw this, he was already laughing so hard he was slapping his thigh and leaning back with his head thrown up.

On the TV screen, Zhong Weishi still hadn’t found the camera. He stared straight ahead, pushing his sweatshirt sleeves up to his elbows. Around his wrist was a red string bracelet.

Under the spotlight, his skin looked paler than usual, making the red string even more noticeable. His forearms weren’t exactly slim, but they were defined and structured. The sight of that red string made Gu Lizhou’s heart skip with joy, he unconsciously touched the matching string on his own wrist.

As soon as the whistle blew, the boy dashed forward on his long legs, light and agile like a specially trained soldier. He barely stayed longer than five seconds at each obstacle.

The audience and the hosts were dumbfounded and held their breath, including Gu Lizhou in front of the TV.

As he neared the finish line, there was still half the countdown remaining.

Zhong Weishi’s foot suddenly slipped. He nearly skidded off the spinning platform, which was soaked in soap water. The only way to move forward was to tightly grip the wooden stick at the center and inch along slowly.

Gu Lizhou felt a chill in his chest. Looked like the washing machine was a lost cause.

Zhong Weishi stayed sprawled on the turntable for a bit, and just as he was about to be flung off in the next instant, Gu Lizhou shut his eyes in distress. Then, in the very next second, both hosts let out a heart-shaking gasp.

Zhong Weishi had landed safely on the next obstacle!

Thunderous cheers erupted at the scene.

Gu Lizhou had barely recovered from that scare when he saw him get smacked to the ground by a giant cylindrical log.

“Does your head hurt ah?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“It didn’t really hurt at the time. I only felt a tiny bit of pain after I got off the stage,” Zhong Weishi said with a smile.

Maybe that red string bracelet was really blessed. At least, that’s what Gu Lizhou thought when he saw Zhong Weishi standing on the podium, taking a photo with the washing machine.

“Your brain wasn’t working that well to begin with, and now after that hit, you’re probably even dumber.”

“Get lost!”

“Hey, so how did you guys even bring that washing machine back ah?”

“Are you stupid ah! The production team mailed it over ah!”

“Oh.” Gu Lizhou rubbed his forehead. “I think my IQ’s dropping just talking to you.”

“Why me again? Why do you rely on me for everything bad?”

Zhong Weishi’s laughter came through the phone, instantly sweeping away all of Gu Lizhou’s accumulated fatigue from the morning.

Zhong Weishi remembered how Gu Lizhou had said he’d be back after the New Year. Carefully, he probed, “When you come back for the New Year, do you wanna try out the washing machine… It’s actually pretty good. Wash and dry in one go, anti-wrinkle, no need to iron. Anyway, it cleans super well… Uncle Cao even tossed his quilt cover in for it to wash.”

Try out the washing machine, my ass.

Gu Lizhou couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Sure.”

---

T/N: Sorry for my sporadic updates. I’ll make sure to make it up and update regularly TT

Still, thanks for those who are still here, reading this!

Let me know if there are typos/errors <3

In late October, the weather had turned cooler and the temperature was comfortable.

Gu Lizhou sat in front of his computer, typing away in a loose hoodie, with two other screenwriters and an assistant from the game team seated nearby.

The entire business suite still carried the lingering aroma of seafood risotto.

This was their third day staying in X City.

He had already written five storylines based on the plotlines requested by Cheng Hang’s side. The other writers on the team were responsible for additional side plots and enhancing character dialogue.

His main job was to provide inspiration, link characters and storylines together, control the pacing, and ensure that each level would leave people wanting more.

The other writers in Cheng Hang’s team were all professional game writers. Occasionally, there would be creative disagreements, but everyone had good tempers, and they worked together to learn from and motivate each other.

Overall, things were going smoothly.

As soon as the meeting ended, the rest of the team headed out to shop and grab some late-night snacks, but he remained in front of his computer, still typing away.

He hadn’t written in a long time, and his typing speed was slow—an hour had passed, and he had only managed to type a little over 900 words, not even half of what he used to manage.

Even though he had mentally prepared for this, he was still a little surprised when he checked the word count.

He logged into the Xinghe Century website and saw that Jiumang Star’s name was all over the major charts. Several of his novels had been adapted into TV dramas and had become the site’s most buzzworthy content.

The film Storm, which Cao Zhiheng had previously mentioned to him, was now starring top-tier actor Shen Jing.

After scrolling through the cast list, he saw that it was filled with low-profile veteran actors. The official account had announced the wrap-up back in June, and Jiumang Star’s Weibo had been heavily promoting the film—it looked like they were aiming for a New Year blockbuster release.

To say it had no psychological impact on him would be a lie.

Outside the window stretched an endless sea. As Gu Lizhou gazed into the distance, his thoughts drifted as well.

He and Cui Sheng had been university classmates. They even joined the same literature club. They shared similar interests and had plenty to talk about, often gathering to discuss writing. Their relationship had been quite good—

Until his father, Gu Zisheng, exposed the fact that Cui Sheng’s father had accepted bribes…

His father lost his job and was thrown in jail, his mother divorced and remarried—for a teenager, it was nothing short of a world-shattering event. His self-esteem was severely wounded, and his motivation to write was deeply affected. He stopped updating his stories for half a year and nearly terminated his contract with the site.

Cui Sheng resented his father, resented Gu Zisheng, and by extension, grew to resent Gu Lizhou as well.

After being avoided three times in a row, Gu Lizhou realized that Cui Sheng intended to cut ties with him completely.

He wasn’t the kind of person to cling on shamelessly and beg for reconciliation. Besides, he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. Reaching out three times was already the limit of his patience.

At the time, he thought he’d simply lost a friend—he never imagined he’d gained an enemy instead.

It was like a physical ailment: every time he saw or heard the words Jiumang Star, his chest tightened, his head spun, and he felt like throwing up.

Zhong Weishi’s few messages had brightened his mood from cloudy to clear. He sent back a voice message: “Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

Zhong Weishi seemed to always have his phone on him, because the typing indicator appeared almost immediately.

— Still early. What about you, are you busy?

Gu Lizhou closed his laptop and stretched lazily toward the window.

— Not busy.

Zhong Weishi sent a video call, but the screen was pitch black.

“You’re wrapped hiding like a cat?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“Yeah.” Zhong Weishi’s voice sounded a little hoarse.

“What’s up with your voice? Caught a cold?”

“Mm, a little. Had to film a scene where I fell into water a couple days ago.” Zhong Weishi coughed once. “But I’m feeling a lot better today.”

Gu Lizhou searched online for a few cough remedies. “Do you know how to make steamed pear with fritillaria?”

“No. What’s fritillaria?”

“Something tasty.” Gu Lizhou laughed and sent him a screenshot of the recipe. “Make it yourself. When you’re done, send me a photo, then drink it.”

“…Okay. I’ll go buy the stuff tomorrow.”

Gu Lizhou felt a little weird talking to a completely black screen. “Stick your head out so I can see you.”

Half of his head poked out from under the covers, revealing only a pair of eyes, but Gu Lizhou could still tell he was smiling.

His mood instantly lifted, but he still felt a little unsatisfied. “Why only half your face?”

Zhong Weishi lowered his gaze, speaking softly, “I got a pimple on my nose. It hasn’t gone away yet, it’s a bit ugly.”

“Yo,” Gu Lizhou chuckled, his eyes crinkling. “You’re still trying to maintain your image with me? Is there any ugly side of you I haven’t seen?”

It’s exactly because it’s you that I want to look good!

Zhong Weishi let out a cold snort. “What if you take a screenshot and show it to my fans? I’m just taking precautions.”

“Like I don’t already have plenty of your embarrassing behavior?” Gu Lizhou sent over a picture of him applying ointment in a park.

In the photo, Zhong Weishi was baring his teeth and grabbing at the phone, looking like a puffed-up, furious cat—downright hideous.

Zhong Weishi was fuming. “Why do you still have that ah!!”

Gu Lizhou raised an eyebrow. “Because I want to. I look at it when I need a laugh.”

“Hurry up and delete, delete! This is a violation of my image rights!”

Gu Lizhou retaliated by sending over a video of Zhong Weishi dancing in a public square.

It was pure public execution.

Zhong Weishi, now deflated like a wilted eggplant, retreated back under the covers.

Gu Lizhou: “Oh, right. Let me show you the sea.”

“Yes ah!” Zhong Weishi popped back out again, his dark, shiny eyes full of anticipation.

The camera turned toward the window.

First, he saw a tall watchtower, then the dark stretch of the sea. This was the first time he’d ever seen the ocean, seen an island, seen a beach.

The sea really was just like how it was described in books—vast and boundless.

Gu Lizhou’s room was right by the shore. Outside the house was a small tent, and hanging from the tent was a long string of warm yellow star-shaped lights. Many small insects danced around the halo of light. One step out, and you’d be on soft sand and pebbles.

The sea breeze lifted his hair and the hem of his clothes. As Gu Lizhou walked, he introduced the scenery of the city. “That direction over there is Yucheng.”

Zhong Weishi, a completely directionless road idiot, simply nodded along while saying “mm-hmm.” He noticed Gu Lizhou’s bare feet and the sharp lines of his collarbones, and his senses told him—he had lost weight.

Definitely lost weight.

Gu Lizhou said the seawater was a little salty, and even the sea breeze had a distinct scent.

Barbecue.

Zhong Weishi couldn’t help but laugh.

He felt as if he were very close to that vast sea, as though he could even smell the waves.

Gu Lizhou: “Did you have a late-night snack?”

Zhong Weishi: “No. You?”

Gu Lizhou: “No. Why didn’t you eat?”

Zhong Weishi: “Wasn’t that hungry today. What about you?”

They exchanged this kind of completely pointless small talk for over an hour, until Zhong Weishi let out a long yawn.

“Tired?” Gu Lizhou glanced at the time, it was already past eleven. He hadn’t even noticed. Every time he chatted with Zhong Weishi, he could feel time flying by at a wild pace.

“Not really,” Zhong Weishi said with another yawn. “What about you?”

Gu Lizhou smiled and said, “I’m tired. Let’s stop here. You should go to bed early too.”

“Oh.” Zhong Weishi pouted. “Then goodnight.”

Three minutes later, neither of them had hung up…

Zhong Weishi rubbed his nose. “You haven’t finished telling that story of the Little Prince last time, Is there more?” His voice, made soft and husky by the cold, sounded like he was acting coy.

Gu Lizhou chuckled, brushed the sand off his pants, and stood up to head back to his room.

“Where did I leave off?”

“You said the Little Prince was about to visit Earth.”

In the story, the Little Prince arrived on Earth and met a little fox, hoping the fox would be his friend and play with him.

The little fox said that without being tamed, it couldn’t play with him.

The Little Prince asked what “taming” meant.

Zhong Weishi heard a soft click, and guessed that Gu Lizhou had just lit a cigarette.

Gu Lizhou said, “‘To you, I’m nothing more than a fox, just like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, we’ll need each other. To me, you’ll be unique in all the world. To you, I’ll be unique in all the world too…’”

Late at night, when everything was silent, Zhong Weishi hugged a small pillow to his chest and happily closed his eyes.

In his ears was the voice he knew best. Coming through the phone, it carried a hint of husky magnetism. Occasionally, he could also hear the crashing of waves against rocks—surging, powerful. The two sounds layered together brought a deep sense of calm.

He felt as if he could see the boundless sea, and had taken a step into that fairytale world Gu Lizhou described.

“The little fox asked the Little Prince, ‘Are there hunters on your planet?’ The Little Prince said, ‘No.’ The little fox got excited, ‘That’s wonderful! Are there chickens?’ The Little Prince replied again, ‘No.’” At this part, Gu Lizhou suddenly laughed.

“This fox is so greedy. Really reminds me of you.”

Zhong Weishi giggled like a fool under the covers. In his mind, Gu Lizhou was just like the Little Prince who traveled from planet to planet.

“So did the Little Prince tame the little fox in the end?”

“Tamed,” Gu Lizhou said. “The little fox really liked the Little Prince, and the Little Prince really liked the little fox. They weren’t lonely anymore.”

In the story, the Little Prince had to leave Earth, and the little fox was so reluctant it nearly cried.

Half-asleep, Zhong Weishi mumbled softly, “Then, will he ever come back to Earth?”

Gu Lizhou exited the reading app and changed the ending. “Yes, of course .”

A good night’s sleep.

It was as if their conversation had triggered something, making everything start to unfold naturally.

From then on, every day, Zhong Weishi would find something to talk about with him. It became such a habit that when one day passed without any messages even by midnight, Gu Lizhou grew restless and video-called him.

“Our troupe’s been rehearsing. The official performance is next week!” Even at two in the morning, Zhong Weishi still looked full of energy.

Gu Lizhou was skeptical. “It can’t possibly take that long to rehearse, right?”

Zhong Weishi pouted slightly. “I’m just a bit nervous… afraid I’ll mess it up, so I practiced a few more times.”

Even though he had played all sorts of roles in front of the camera, this was his first time performing live in front of an audience, nervousness was inevitable.

Gu Lizhou looked up the play online. There were already 322 electronic tickets sold, which meant that the live audience would definitely exceed 300 people.

It reminded him of his high school days, when he had to give speeches on stage. Looking down at the sea of heads and the countless pairs of eyes staring up at him felt like being scanned by X-rays.

Absolutely spine-chilling.

He had memorized the speech perfectly, but the moment he stepped on stage, it was like someone had whacked him on the head—all forgotten. He read through it blankly and stammering, and nearly tripped over his own feet walking off the stage.

Ai, memories best left buried.

Gu Lizhou smiled into the camera. “You’re amazing. You’ll definitely do great.”

He wasn’t just saying that to be nice. He had seen with his own eyes how Zhong Weishi memorized lines—almost a photographic memory.

What made Zhong Weishi truly impressive was his ability to quickly immerse himself in a role. He could cry on command without hesitation, and that was something Gu Lizhou deeply admired.

He believed Zhong Weishi had what it took to adapt to this new stage.

That was also why he wanted to help him find more opportunities.

This kid really had talent. And on top of that, he was easy on the eyes. If someone was willing to dig deeper and hone his potential, Gu Lizhou believed that one day, he’d soar.

“You can try performing at Da Fei’s barbershop first… Just don’t be afraid. Believe in yourself. Anyone I set my sights on can’t be wrong.”

The. One I. Set. My. Sights. On.

Gu Lizhou had no idea how those few casually spoken words of encouragement were like a powerful shot of adrenaline for Zhong Weishi.

True or not, the man was already floating.

After several rounds of ‘art performances’ at the barbershop, Zhong Weishi’s first stage play went quite smoothly.

Before the show, Qiangzi and the others even spent a small fortune buying couple tickets. Da Fei dusted off his old skills and dressed up as a woman again—though the real purpose was to let Qiangzi, that peac0ck, show off his stuff in public.

The video was secretly recorded by Qiangzi and the others. In order not to disturb the surrounding audience, it was just a short clip—barely a dozen seconds long—but the camera followed only one person the entire time: their Weishi-ge.

It just so happened to be a monologue from Zhong Weishi.

Gu Lizhou had known he was acting in a play, but he hadn’t expected him to be the lead. Watching that long string of lines spill fluently from his mouth, Gu Lizhou couldn’t help but smile.

His voice was deep and resonant, his tone natural and genuine—not the slightest sign of stage fright.

Blue spotlights crisscrossed the stage of the small theater, but to Gu Lizhou, it felt like Zhong Weishi himself was the brightest beam of all, effortlessly drawing every ounce of his attention.

He realized he might be starting to rely on Zhong Weishi more than he thought.

As the end of the year approached, Gu Lizhou took the initiative to invite the Cheng brothers out for dinner.

He used to scoff at the idea of wining and dining to make connections, but after stepping into society, he understood—sometimes a single sentence could completely change the course of someone’s life.

Cheng Yue was somewhat of a fan of his work. As soon as they met, he asked when Gu Lizhou’s next project would be released.

They exchanged a round of mutual praise before Gu Lizhou gradually steered the conversation toward Zhong Weishi.

“My friend once stood in for you as a body double. He said you were passionate and talented, really good at what you do.”

“Oh?” Cheng Yue perked up. “Who’s your friend?”

“Your nude body double.”

“Ah…”

The name Zhong Weishi wasn’t unfamiliar to Cheng Yue. Among the crew, he’d been one of the most lively young actors. He had some solid line delivery and acting skills, and a face that left a strong impression. Unfortunately, his educational background was lacking—not even a high school diploma—and he had no formal acting credits.

Cheng Hang took a sip of hot tea. “How did you end up becoming friends with someone that young?”

So Gu Lizhou briefly explained the whole story.

Cheng Hang’s eyes widened like copper bells the entire time. His expression was almost identical to the one Gu Lizhou had worn when he first heard it, completely stunned.

“Such a pitiful background? No wonder he’s out working so young.”

“En, so if there’s ever an opportunity, I’d appreciate it if you could help him out. I’ll personally keep an eye on the areas where he’s lacking academically. What he needs is just a chance.”

Cheng Hang was a smart man. By this point in the conversation, he had already figured out Gu Lizhou’s true purpose in inviting them to dinner.

But the Gu Lizhou he knew had always been a reserved loner, someone who had to be begged three times before showing up to a gathering—like some old hermit in the mountains. And now, here he was, initiating a meetup just to speak up for a friend?

Impossible.

“Can I ask who exactly is he to you?”

Gu Lizhou was momentarily stunned. He put down his teacup, licked his lips, and replied, “My godson.”

Cheng Hang immediately choked on his tea.

In the entertainment industry, any familial term prefixed with “god-” usually implied a certain shameful connotation…

He never imagined that his old classmate Gu Lizhou—once the embodiment of propriety—would be into that.

The world was truly going downhill.

Back in their school days, Gu Lizhou had been cold and upright, with countless seniors and juniors chasing after him, yet he remained aloof and single, standing out like a crane among chickens.

Who would have guessed this was the real reason behind it all!

“You too…” Cheng Hang trailed off, unsure how to even express his complicated feelings.

Cheng Yue, meanwhile, recalled the figure of his nude body double and thought Gu Lizhou had excellent taste.

He completely understood how tough things were for such a niche group. “Hey, it’s really nothing these days. Society’s so open now. Having a godson is just fine.”

Gu Lizhou didn’t quite follow what an open society had to do with a godson.

He looked completely lost.

Cheng Yue continued, “Our company is currently partnering with a streaming platform to prepare a talent show. The <Power of Idols> is scheduled to premiere next fall. You could have your fri—no, your godson participate. The winner will definitely be signed directly to our company.”

Tianyao Media, where Cheng Yue worked, was one of the most prominent media and talent management conglomerates in the industry. Its operations spanned film, television, variety shows, music, and more—all with dazzling achievements. The company was a true leader in Asia-Pacific entertainment.

The film adaptation rights of his <Lost Souls> had been bought by Tianyao, and the production of <Storm> by Jiumang Star was also backed by Tianyao Media. Many of the hottest top-tier celebrities in the mainland right now had all been brought into the spotlight by Tianyao.

Cheng Yue explained that the main goal of this talent show was to discover more promising newcomers.

If Zhong Weishi could get into this company, he’d never have to worry about not getting acting gigs in the future—but signing with them was no easy feat.

Cheng Yue added, “Honestly, even if he doesn’t win first place, it’s fine. As long as he has talent and drive, he can still make it in this industry. Once the sign-up period opens, I’ll let you know early. If there’s any trouble, just come to me.”

Gu Lizhou stood up and poured them more tea. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem at all.”

Just before leaving, Cheng Hang couldn’t resist reminding him: “You’re really sending your little canary into the entertainment industry. Aren’t you afraid one day he’ll just spread his wings and fly away?”

“…”

Gu Lizhou broke out in a cold sweat—at this point, he felt like even jumping into the Yellow River wouldn’t wash him clean.

—

One afternoon after New Year’s Day, Gu Lizhou was sitting at his desk typing away when his phone started buzzing.

Caller ID: Lunatic.

Now this was unusual. Except for that one time he’d been caught by the police and called for help, this guy usually only sent WeChat messages or video links.

Could it be another life-or-death situation?

Gu Lizhou immediately tensed up.

“Ge! Do you have a TV nearby? Quick quick quick, quick, quick, turn on the TV!” Zhong Weishi’s voice was frantic, like a second’s delay might be fatal.

Immediately, an image flashed in Gu Lizhou’s mind—Zhong Weishi in handcuffs, showing up on the local news.

In the span of two seconds, he’d already mentally prepared himself to fly back to Yucheng to fight a lawsuit and bail someone out.

“Which channel? Are you okay?”

“Sparrow TV!”

Gu Lizhou let out a breath of relief. Thankfully, it wasn’t the Legal Report channel.

At this hour, Sparrow TV was broadcasting a large-scale indoor obstacle course show called<Brave Charge Ahead>.

On screen, a muscular man in a black tank top was walking across a cylindrical balance beam. The beam was spinning continuously, and soft pads were laid out below it.

A countdown timer was ticking away in the top right corner of the screen—thirty seconds left.

Zhong Weishi heard the TV audio in the background. “You turned it on, right?”

“Yeah, but what’s so great about this?”

“I’m running out of call credit! Let’s talk on WeChat!”

“…” Now that’s the God of Stinginess himself.

Zhong Weishi sent a video call request, his face full of excitement. “I also participated in this program! I didn’t think I’d actually be on TV! Just wait a bit—four more contestants and then it’s my turn!”

Gu Lizhou couldn’t help but chuckle. This guy’s thought process really is something else. Wanting to get famous by joining a show like this? But when he saw the prize for clearing the stage, he understood.

—It was a fully automatic washing machine worth 3,999 yuan.

---

Author’s Note:

The story Daddy told was The Little Prince.