Category: His Character Isn’t Quite Right (Page 1 of 3)

Chapter 28 – Gu Lizhou curled the corner of his lips. "Call me Daddy."

80% of Gu Lizhou’s social circle consisted of grown men, most of them over 30. Even if someone had a birthday and gathered everyone together, it was nothing more than drinking, eating, and singing a few songs. Forget gifts—even a cake was a rarity.

Something like asking for a gift had never happened before.

The kid wants a gift.

What should he buy?

Clothes? Pants? Would that be too plain and boring? The clothes he gave last time hadn’t even been worn.

A whole box of Weilong spicy strips?

Pfft.

Just the thought of it made him laugh.

Gu Lizhou couldn’t come up with a good idea, so he called Cao Zhiheng. “Figured out what you’re getting for your father-in-law yet?”

“Buy red wine ah. Why? You got a better idea?”

“No, just asking. Make sure you pick something with a bit of class. Don’t end up buying a fake bottle and chugging it down—getting drunk on counterfeit booze isn’t a good look.”

Cao Zhiheng cursed at him. “You bastard, can’t you wish me well for once?”

Gu Lizhou laughed out loud “Ai, did that little lunatic in 301 tell you tomorrow’s his birthday?”

“He mentioned it, but I’m not sure if I’ll be free tomorrow night. Why? He didn’t invite you? Jealous that I’m more well liked?” Cao Zhiheng said.

Gu Lizhou couldn’t hold back a curse, laughing so hard his eyes nearly squinted shut. “He asked me ages ago. He probably just mentioned it to you out of politeness. I mean, we live together—he wouldn’t want me telling you about it later and making it awkward for you.”

“Cut the crap. I’ve known him for ages. Just recently, I even got him a role as the chief eunuch in a production. He’s probably inviting me to thank me. You, on the other hand, are just the ‘bonus gift’ in a buy-one-get-one deal,” Cao Zhiheng boasted shamelessly.

Gu Lizhou laughed heartily but still insisted on arguing, “Then did he invite you to his birthday in the past few years?”

Cao Zhiheng had no idea what’s up with him today that he had to compare this with him, but he genuinely felt that his relationship with Zhong Weishi had taken a qualitative leap forward thanks to that chief eunuch role.

“We weren’t that close the past four years. We just got familiar this year. You know, brotherhood like ours takes time to cultivate.”

“Have some shame.” Gu Lizhou pulled the conversation back on track. “So what are you planning to give him?”

“Give him what? Just send a WeChat red envelope to show some goodwill.” Cao Zhiheng responded without hesitation.

Gu Lizhou was momentarily stunned. “He didn’t ask you for a gift?”

“A gift? What gift? A red envelope is practical—what’s wrong with that?” Cao Zhiheng said. “Besides, who the hell would go around actively asking for gifts ah!”

Gu Lizhou: “…it’s that good brother of yours, ah.”

Human psychology was truly strange. He was clearly being chased for a gift, yet realizing he was singled out as someone special somehow put him in a good mood.

Even after hanging up the call, the smile on his lips refused to fade.

He clicked on a certain treasure1Taobao. Whereas 某宝 meant certain “宝” or bao which can also mean treasure. website and had just typed in “gift for guys” when an automatic suggestion popped up.

—Gifts for Boyfriend

As if possessed, he clicked on it.

Watches, gaming consoles, razors, engraved lighters, couple T-shirts, custom ceramic mugs… The average price was under 150.

Almost every product’s main image had captions like ‘A gift no boyfriend can resist!’ ‘Guys will tear up instantly!’ ‘Give this, and he’ll love you even more!’ and so on.

The visuals were overwhelming, but internally, he felt nothing—if anything, he wanted to laugh.

He flipped through several pages, but everything felt like the kind of gifts only seventeen or eighteen-year-old kids in their awkward, innocent phase would give.

The second time, he changed the keywords: gifts for grown men.

Surprisingly, it was the same stuff…

He must be searching the wrong way.

Alright, let’s try again.

The third time’s keyword: gifts for little kids

…fvck. How the fvck is it still those!

It’s not working!

Gu Lizhou nearly flipped his laptop over in frustration.

Switching to a certain hu 2This is another website: Zhihu.for answers, the suggested gifts had a bit more class.

Noise-canceling headphones, men’s perfume, notebooks, handcrafted leather wallets, mechanical keyboards, sneakers, speakers…

But none of them gave him that immediate “Ah, that little bastard would like this” feeling.

Gu Lizhou kept refreshing the page, feeling like an old father painstakingly researching university majors and future career paths for his kid.

I’m so exhausted, I’m going bald.

It was even more brain-consuming than codewords.

Was this how Zhong Weishi felt when he helped him find a job back then?

Gu Lizhou clicked into Zhong Weishi’s WeChat Moments, hoping to find some clues. Instead, he scrolled through a bunch of short videos.

Most were clips from the set—Zhong Weishi jumping off a shipping container, landing face-first in the dirt, then getting up and grinning stupidly at the camera.

Qiangzi performed his signature trick of swallowing a whole dragon fruit in one go. The deep red juice dribbled down his neck as he spoke, “Xin-jie’s fruit store—imported straight from Hainan! Sweet and juicy, guaranteed! Order a box now and get two extra for free! Local customers from Yucheng can have it delivered at their door!”

Another video featured him devouring a watermelon. He stood in a solid horse stance, holding the melon with both hands. At the sound of a whistle, he jerked his head forward—and in an instant, the watermelon flesh was gone. Meanwhile, the person next to him was still struggling to take their first few bites.

Qiangzi wiped his mouth dramatically in front of the camera, wearing the calm, confident smile of a true champion.

Gu Lizhou watched the videos with a twisted expression, his stomach aching slightly. What kind of hardcore survival skills were these…

Just as he clicked on the next video, Zhong Weishi’s frantic screaming blasted from the speakers, startling Gu Lizhou so much that he hurried to lower the volume.

“AH AH AH AH AH AHAH—GU-ZI GU-ZI GU-ZI GU-ZI GU-ZI! SIGN THIS FOR ME AH—I—I—I—I’M YOUR FAN!—”3Apologies for the upper cases on this one if it hurts your eyes lol. Since he was screaming, I figured I’d use this here. Thanks!

It looked like the back hallway of a high-end hotel. The shaky, nausea-inducing camera work barely captured a glimpse of a handsome celebrity’s smiling face.

The Superstar Gu himself patiently took the pen and doodled a spiral potato skewer on Zhong Weishi’s shirt.

“Gu-zi, you radiate righteousness—even when you play villains, you look like an undercover agent! I’ve seen all your movies, super handsome!— You have to take good care of yourself ah!” Zhong Weishi’s voice trembled with excitement. At the end, he even added in Cantonese, “I I really like this one ah.”

Superstar Gu gave him a slight nod, flashing a dazzling yet impeccably polite smile before leaving.

Gu Lizhou: “…”

Did this guy even know what he was saying?

And… just how many people did he like?

The video was replayed twice.

Pursing his lips, Gu Lizhou exited WeChat. With that enthusiasm, that tremble in his voice, that sheer joy spilling through the screen—Gu Tianle was definitely his white moonlight!

Once that inexplicable sour feeling faded, a sudden flash of inspiration struck Gu Lizhou—autograph!

Right, right, right, autograph, autograph!

Wan Lizhou’s autograph!!!

It felt like he had just cracked a complex Olympiad math problem—his was instantly energized

With a swift motion, he dashed out the door.

At noon, the scorching sun blazed overhead, even making the taxi driver look drowsy from the heat.

Gu Lizhou paid the fare, got out of the car, and hurried into a large bookstore.

Luckily, even after all these years, Wan Lizhou’s books still occupied a prime spot in the bestsellers section.

The <Wraiths> a complete set of twelve volumes—just lifting them was a workout. Would this be too… hefty as a gift?

Gu Lizhou imagined Zhong Weishi, full from a meal, carrying this stack of books home like he was hauling a bundle of explosives. He couldn’t help but laugh.

There are too many.

Better to pick just one.

The autograph was secondary—the real goal was to bestow upon him the prestigious title of “personal acquaintance of the renowned bestselling author Wan Lizhou.”

Gu Lizhou had already started picturing hundreds of possible reactions from Zhong Weishi when he found out his true identity.

Maybe he’d want a hug, soak in his brilliance…

Will he scream at that time?

Definitely.

Then, blushing furiously, he’d cover his face, recalling the heartfelt confession he had once read aloud at night—probably embarrassed to the point of collapse.

Prepare to tremble, foolish Earthling.

Gu Lizhou, still lost in his fantasy of Zhong Weishi being moved to tears, grinned at the book cover’s wraparound band for a good while—until someone tapped him on the shoulder.

It was a young girl. She pointed to her throat and ears, then shook her hand before gesturing at the donation slip in her other hand.

On it was a fundraiser for a children’s welfare organization.

Gu Lizhou gave her all the cash in his wallet.

A simple red string bracelet could be exchanged for a twenty-yuan donation, but he had given several hundred all at once. The girl looked overwhelmed. She only had two bracelets left in her pocket—most of the remaining items were little bells.

The temperament of the man in front of her didn’t seem like someone who would wear bells.

She quickly pulled out a prepared notebook, writing: “Thank you for your kind donation. Wearing this will bring you good luck.”

“Is it blessed?” Gu Lizhou teased, twirling the red string between his fingers.

The girl squinted and smiled, nodding. She flipped to the next page and wrote: “Wishing you and your lover good health.”

“I don’t have a lover yet,” Gu Lizhou chuckled. “But thanks anyway.”

The girl lowered her head and wrote quickly, “It will help you find one!”

Even though he knew it was just a little trick to coax kids, he still accepted it with a smile.

At the checkout counter, he picked out a gold-embossed signature pen. After paying, he headed straight to the café next door.

What would be a good thing to write?

Gu Lizhou solemnly made a draft on his cell phone memo.

“To Xiao Weiwei…” No, no, no, way too mushy.

“To Zhong Weishi…” Does that sound too distant?

“To little bastard,” that worked.

After signing, Gu Lizhou blew lightly on the page for a long time, letting the ink dry.

But still, considering that he was Zhong Weishi’s ultimate white moonlight in the 2D world, just giving him a novel worth a few dozen yuan felt a little stingy.

So, he headed to a nearby shopping mall and picked out a mechanical watch. It had a sleek black dial, a leather strap, and a simple, versatile design.

From the moment he stepped in, the sales associate had been chattering non-stop. “This one looks really good on you, suits you perfectly—very classy and sophisticated.”

“It’s not for me, it’s a gift.”

“A gift still needs to be sophisticated ah.”

“…”

“This model is currently 20% off, and you’ll get a complimentary gift worth 199 yuan.”

“Just wrap it up nicely.”

“No problem, no problem! Would you like the gift to be wrapped separately?”

Just then, his phone rang—it was Cheng Hang. Gu Lizhou absentmindedly replied, “No need, just put everything together.”

“When will you be back?”

“In a couple days, I still have some things to do here.”

“Alright, no rush. The planning department is still recruiting new people. When you’re back, call me—I’ll take you to our company’s operations department so you can get a feel for the game’s concept and design requirements. Then you can decide if you want to write for it.”

“Good.”

The calm surface of the lake rippled.

Gu Lizhou lost sleep again that night.

His emotions were complicated, his mind a tangled mess of thoughts.

About the past, the present, the future. About dreams…

He thought about what he really loved.

He used to think that if he ever stopped writing, he would probably die. But he didn’t. Life went on.

That’s probably what life is all about.

Finding joy in monotony, creating something extraordinary out of the ordinary.

The next day was another hot sunny day.

Gu Lizhou slept until past three in the afternoon.

His head was groggy from the lack of sleep. After getting up and washing up, he caught sight of the small gift box on the table, finally remembering Zhong Weishi’s birthday.

While shaving, he mentally ran through the entire big reveal and gift-giving sequence.

First, he would hand over the novel and casually mention that it had Wan Lizhou’s personal autograph. When Zhong Weishi opened the cover and saw that one-of-a-kind, exclusive signature—the ultimate badge of honor—he would definitely go nuts, jumping around so wildly his head might explode from excitement.

Then, after confirming his identity with tears of joy, they would share a heartfelt embrace.

Maybe Zhong Weishi would blush, stammering as he showered him with rainbow farts. But as a calm and composed author, he had to stay steady—no laughing.

With a dignified wave of his hand, he would say, “Genius or not, I’m just an ordinary person. But from now on, live well ah! Never stop chasing your dreams! As long as you work hard, fate will be beneath your feet. Trust me!”

Zhong Weishi would be so overwhelmed he’d tremble all over. “You’ll always be my idol…”

That’s when he would present the watch as a souvenir for his fan.

Even the most ordinary gift would take on extraordinary meaning because of who it came from.

“Well? Isn’t it thrilling, seamless, and unforgettable?”

Cao Zhiheng scratched his cheeks, genuinely moved by the elaborate plan. “Man, that’s really thoughtful. If it were me, I would’ve been moved to tears! No matter what you give at a time like this, you’ll be moved to death!”

“Right? I thought so too.” Gu Lizhou was full of confidence.

Just then, his phone rang.

He had barely said “Hello” when Zhong Weishi’s panicked voice exploded through the receiver. “Come, quickly save me ah—”

Gu Lizhou was so scared that his liver trembled, “What happened?! Where are you?”

“I—I…” Zhong Weishi sounded pitiful. “I got taken to the police station.”

Gu Lizhou’s eyes widened. “How the hell did you end up there again?!”

—Two hours earlier.

After wrapping up Er’Gou’s case, Huangfu Qiang got lucky and landed a new job—an extramarital affair investigation.

A rich woman suspected her husband was keeping a mistress. If they could capture solid evidence, she could strip the man of everything in the divorce. The reward was a hefty 100,000 yuan.

Naturally, an opportunity like this had to be shared with his brothers in arms.

So the Xicheng District’s Express Debt Collection Team group was active again.

“Brothers brothers, the opportunity to get rich has arrived ah!”

Zhong Weishi was firm. “I’m not going, I’m not going. I’ve decided to live an honest life. Don’t drag me into any more get-rich-quick schemes.”

“No, bro, this time it’s different—love triangles, scandals… Damn ya, this rich lady is loaded. She directly dumped me a 10,000 yuan deposit.”

Zhong Weishi’s eyes flickered. “That much?”

Qiangzi held down the voice recording button and spitefully recounted the entire story in the group chat.

It was a continuous stream of ten or so 59-second voice messages, leaving everyone speechless.

“That rich woman said she saw the chat records—he’s been flirting with some woman constantly. It’s absolutely true. The only thing missing are pictures for evidence.”

After their previous overnight trip to the police station, Zhong Weishi remained rational this time. “The key is, how do we get a photo? Are you planning to storm into his house? Have you lost your mind? Did you forget what Old Li told us?”

“This time, we’re doing a good deed! It’s an affair! Breaking up a couple is breaking up a couple,” Qiangzi spent nearly half an hour analyzing his views on marriage and love from every possible angle. “In short, I think, from a moral standpoint, we have to help her.”

A’Wei: “Cheating? What kind of man is he? We have to kill him!”

Da Fei: “I agree.”

Zhong Weishi got straight to the point. “How much is she paying you?”

Qiangzi sent a string of numbers.

Zhong Weishi’s eyes widened so much that he felt like he didn’t need to use his hand to keep his eyeballs, they were about to pop to the ground.

After a long silence, the man who had just been chanting, “I’m not going, don’t drag me into any get-rich-quick schemes,” suddenly spoke in a deep voice: “That dog man’s behavior is outrageous. If I don’t get photographic evidence, I’ll spell my name backward!”

Qiangzi and A’Wei took turns following the dog man for several days before finally catching him wrapping his arm around a young woman and entering a high-end hotel.

Zhong Weishi, having watched too many TVB dramas,4*TVB drama produced by Television Broadcasts Limited (TVB), a Hong Kong-based television broadcasting company. teamed up with A’Wei to steal a hotel staff uniform and service cart before heading over to knock on the door.

When they entered under the guise of delivering desserts, the woman was already lying on the bed in a bathrobe.

Wealth is obtained from taking risks!

The opportunity was right in front of them!

The difference between TV dramas and reality was that, in dramas, the protagonist could stealthily place a hidden camera in a spot unnoticed by the villain. In reality, however, shaky hands led to immediate suspicion.

The moment the girl called out to him, Zhong Weishi trembled in fright, and the camera fell straight to the floor.

All in all it was quite a grueling battle.

It was so close to dying on the spot.

Now, clutching his swollen cheek from the slap he’d received, Zhong Weishi skipped over the brutal beating he had endured and barely held back tears as he explained, “Old Li—Old Li said that since he knows me, he’s going to keep me locked up a few extra days.”

Gu Lizhou really didn’t hold back and laughed so hard that his shoulders shook. “Hahahahahahahaha—”

“You’re laughing?!” Zhong Weishi roared. “Are you even my bro!”

Gu Lizhou made no effort to stop. “Well, guess you’ll be staying a few more days. Who told you to go around causing trouble?”

“I—I, I really know I was wrong. I still want to film… But they said I have to pay a fine before they’ll let me out.”

Realizing that his record might soon be marked with an unforgettable stain, Zhong Weishi grew anxious, his eyes reddening. His voice softened, “I don’t know who else to call. Just help me out this once, for the sake of our brotherhood. Come pay the fine for me—I’ll write you an IOU as soon as I get out. I swear I’ll pay you back!”

Money wasn’t an issue, but Gu Lizhou raised an eyebrow and asked, “What’s in it for me?”

“What do you want? Whatever I can give, I’ll give you.” Zhong Weishi pouted. “I’ll even wash your underwear if I have to. Please, just get over here. Qiangzi and the others were all picked up by their parents—only I’m left. The police uncles are about to get off work.”

It was a completely normal plea, but when it reached that old beast’s ears, for some reason, he couldn’t help but picture a little kid crouching at a kindergarten entrance, drawing circles on the ground.

“All the other kids were picked up by their parents… I’m the only one left.”

Gu Lizhou was amused by his own imagination and reassured him, “No rush, there are still officers on duty anyway.”

His voice carried a relaxed tone, his brows slightly raised in amusement. Transmitted through the wireless call, his words sounded more like he was gloating.

“If you don’t want to come, forget it. I’m hanging up.” Zhong Weishi let out a heavy snort.

“Don’t hang up.”

“What?” Zhong Weishi’s tone was icy, but deep down, he was smug—he knew Gu Lizhou wouldn’t have the heart to leave him stranded.

Gu Lizhou curled the corner of his lips. “Call me Daddy.”

“Huh?” Zhong Weishi was stunned.

Holding a cigarette between his fingers, Gu Lizhou grinned wickedly. “Call me Daddy, and I’ll come get you right now.”

Chapter 27 – Tomorrow Is My Birthday

Gu Lizhou couldn’t remember when he had fallen asleep, but before he even opened his eyes the next morning, he could already feel the blazing heat from outside the window.

Hot.

His entire body was sticky and uncomfortable to the point of misery, and even his breathing felt labored.

He looked up to find the air conditioner turned off.

Heartless little beast!

He even covered him with a blanket last night!

“Zhong Weishi!—” he shouted, only to find that no one was in the room.

Gu Lizhou fumbled for the remote control and pressed the switch button.

It didn’t start.

It was only after pressing the overhead light switch again that he was sure it that the power was out.

Didn’t pay the utility bill?

That was the first thought that popped into his head.

It was only seven o’clock.

Gu Lizhou sighed, shaking the tattered blanket dr4p3d over him. Zhong Weishi’s sleeping habits were terrible.

Last night, he had one leg thrown over Gu Lizhou’s waist, then rolled over to straddle him, and later, he just sprawled out completely, draping his legs over Gu Lizhou’s chest.

Utterly shameless.

At that time he was only one solid iron kitchen knife away from becoming a murderer.

In short, the night had left him with an aching waist and an utterly exhausted body, filled with regret.

The room was hot and stuffy. Gu Lizhou stretched lazily and planned to head back to Room 303 to catch up on sleep. That’s when he noticed a sticky note stuck to the front door.

“I’m off to the film crew. The key is on the table. If you go out, help me lock the door with a couple of extra turns. I’ll grab it from you later.”

Muttering “Even a thief wouldn’t bother coming here,” Gu Lizhou chuckled as he locked the door for him.

As soon as he stepped out, he saw the dirty clothes he had changed out of last night fluttering on the balcony in the breeze.

Including. His. Underwear.

If he remembered correctly, there was no such thing as a washing machine in that apartment…

The little beast washed it by hand?

So filial?

When Gu Lizhou returned to Room 303, he found out that the power outage was caused by an issue with the community’s circuit breaker. The electricity had been cut off for the entire complex around six in the morning, and workers were urgently repairing it.

“Have you eaten breakfast?” Cao Zhiheng asked, waving a large palm-leaf fan.

Meng Jingshi was sitting at the dining table, sipping soybean milk. When she saw Gu Lizhou sit down, she gave a shy smile and lowered her head.

Meeting her boyfriend’s friend for the first time, only to make him sleep in the next room, made her feel quite embarrassed.

Gu Lizhou yawned, poured himself half a glass of cold water, and asked, “Not yet. Got any more?”

“Nope. I thought you ate with your little brother, so I didn’t buy anything,” Cao Zhiheng said.

“Then why the hell did you asked, my ass.”

After finding his power bank, Gu Lizhou sent a message to Zhong Weishi.

-Did you wash my clothes?

-Probably that female ghost washed them for you last night.

Gu Lizhou chuckled to himself as he stared at his phone.

-Thanks.

-Kowtow to the female ghost.

“Staring at your pants. What are you looking at your crotch for?” Cao Zhiheng rapped the table, interrupting him. “I’m going to Jing Jing’s place for dinner tonight. I probably won’t be back until late. You’re on your own for dinner.”

“Yo,” Gu Lizhou raised an eyebrow. “Planning to meet the in-laws ah?”

“Yes ah,” Cao Zhiheng said, crossing his legs. “What kind of gift do you think I should bring for a first meeting with the in-laws ah…”

Gu Lizhou gave mocking laugh. “How would I know? I don’t have in-laws.”

Cao Zhiheng waved dismissively. “Forget it. Asking you is pointless. A solo since birth like you has no right to join this discussion.”

“He’s never been in a relationship ah?” Meng Jingshi’s eyes widened. She had always assumed that someone like Gu Lizhou, with his school-heartthrob-level looks, must be a seasoned player in the dating scene, only choosing to enjoy single life after growing tired of romance.

“Yes ah, we’ve all suspected he’s gay,” Cao Zhiheng joked with a grin.

Gu Lizhou raised his glass, pretending to throw it at him, and Cao Zhiheng quickly ducked behind his girlfriend, his smile mischievous.

“With your looks, finding a partner should be easy ah. Do you have an ideal type? Or any specific requirements for a girl?” Meng Jingshi asked.

Gu Li Zhou had no concept of the word “ideal type”.

Back in high school, some classmates had invited him out for a group meal and subtly hinted that a girl liked him. But at the time, he wasn’t interested in the slightest and responded bluntly with, “You’d better focus on your studies.” Unexpectedly, the girl burst into tears on the spot.

Gu Lizhou was confused.

It was only later that he learned the girl thought he was mocking her for having poor grades, which had made her cry in anger.

The next evening during self-study, the girl’s best friend cornered him in the classroom and, in front of the entire class, furiously scolded him: “Do you think you’re so great just because your grades are good? What’s so amazing about you? Do you even know she folded 999 paper cranes for you ah!…”

From that moment on, Gu Lizhou felt that girls were an incomprehensible species, and he never entertained the idea of dating throughout his three years in high school.

When he got to university, he became obsessed with writing, leaving him even less time to think about romance.

By the time he realized it, he had already missed the ambiguity crushes of adolescence and skipped straight to the restrained and rational approach adults have toward love.

And this was a kind of loss that lasted a lifetime.

He no longer had the desire to fall in love.

Maybe, just like the lyrics in that Eason Chan song, the person meant for him had been born in a different country, in a different year, before he was even born.

Maybe they had missed each other by a hundred years—a whole century.

Maybe that person was living on the same land as him, but due to various circumstances, they would never meet in this lifetime.

He believed in true love, but also knew that not everyone was lucky.

It’s possible to meet the right person at the right time.

Blind dates, marriage, children…

He knew that this was something he would inevitably have to face and experience, but there was an inexplicable resistance in him.

It was probably because he had been single for so long that he didn’t want to change his current, free lifestyle.

Meng Jingshi glanced up and continued, “I have a younger cousin who’s two years younger than me. She’s never been in a relationship either. Do you want me to introduce you two?”

Before Gu Lizhou could open his mouth to decline, Cao Zhiheng had already made the decision for him. “Sure ah, sure ah. What does she look like ah? Let me see.”

“What are you getting all worked up about?” Meng Jingshi shot him a look.

Cao Zhiheng: “I’m just helping him out… It’s his first time, so he’s inexperienced. Look at me—my judgment is top-notch.”

Meng Jingshi opened her friend’s social media and handed her phone to him. “Here, isn’t she pretty? She works for a state-owned enterprise now. Her dad’s a university professor, and her mom’s a bank client manager. Their family’s well-off, and she’s quiet, well-mannered, and cultured.”

“Yo, what a coincidence? Old Gu’s dad is a university professor too. This girl seems like a good match ah…” Cao Zhiheng glanced at his girlfriend and quickly added, “But no one’s better than you.”

At first glance, Gu Lizhou knew the girl wasn’t his type, but since she was Meng Jingshi’s cousin, he couldn’t reject her outright. Instead, he asked tactfully, “Where’s she from ah?”

“She’s from Yucheng ya. Lives in the city center—only half an hour by subway,” Meng Jingshi enthusiastically pitched.

Gu Lizhou put on a regretful expression. “What a pity. I live in City B and am just here for a trip.”

Cao Zhiheng, catching Gu Lizhou’s subtle signal, quickly chimed in, “Long-distance relationships are tough. Even figuring out where to spend New Year’s becomes a hassle. We can’t let your cousin go through that.”

Meng Jingshi pouted. “Aiya, travel is so convenient nowadays. Flying back and forth is quick ah. Besides, after getting married, you can just move over—what’s the big deal?”

Gu Lizhou: “I prefer someone a bit livelier since I have a pretty dull personality. If I end up with someone who doesn’t like to talk, we won’t have much to chat about ah.”

“Livelier? We’ve got that ah! Otherwise, look at this one… a kindergarten teacher and super outgoing.”

“…”

“Not satisfied ah? Okay, so she’s a bit on the heavier side, but she’s really popular, easygoing, and great to be around.”

Gu Lizhou thought to himself: A bit on the heavier side? This girl looks like she weighs more than he does.

Would he even be able to carry her on their wedding day?

Meng Jingshi caught on to what he was implying. “Otherwise, why don’t you tell me your type, and I’ll check with my girl friends for you?”

“I don’t really have any concept of this stuff. When you truly like someone, all those rules and conditions don’t matter. Even if it’s a guy, I’d chase him down.”

Cao Zhiheng choked on his soy milk, coughing for a long while.

Gu Lizhou fiddled with the keychain on the table. “I was just giving an example. Don’t overthink it. Besides, you’re not my type.”

Cao Zhiheng squinted and slowed his speech. “Wait a second… First, you say you don’t have a type, and then you say someone’s not your type. That’s contradictory ah, Old Gu.”

Gu Lizhou froze.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Cao Zhiheng wagged his index finger, “Something’s off. You definitely have a type.”

Irritated by his persistence, Gu Lizhou said, “I like myself. Every time I look in the mirror, I wish I could marry myself. Okay?”

“…”

After breakfast, Cao Zhiheng dropped his girlfriend off at work. When he got home, the power was back on.

Gu Lizhou was sprawled on the sofa, scrolling through his phone.

“When are you going to roll back ah?” Cao Zhiheng asked.

“Why? You called me over when you were lonely and bored. Now that things are steady with your girlfriend, I’m suddenly in the way?” Gu Lizhou raised an eyebrow.

“No.” Cao Zhiheng laughed and slapped his leg. “Do I seem like that kind of person?”

Gu Lizhou: “I think so.”

Cao Zhiheng’s smile vanished. “So, when are you rolling?”

“I’ll pack up right now.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Cao Zhiheng grabbed him. “I’m joking. Stay as long as you want. It’s fine. Worst case, when my girlfriend comes over, you can squeeze in with the kid again.”

“Forget it.” Gu Lizhou said, letting out another yawn. “I barely got three or four hours of sleep last night. I’m so sleepy. He’s like a tiny, immovable tractor, puttering away. I flipped him over multiple times, and he still didn’t wake up. Honestly, it’s unbelievable. I don’t even know what he was born as, but he sure knows how to sleep. Even when I was a student, I couldn’t sleep as much as he does.”

Despite his complaints, the smile in Gu Lizhou’s eyes was impossible to hide.

Cao Zhiheng threw his head back and laughed. “Really? Does he snore too?”

Gu Lizhou: “He’s better than you. You’re not snoring; you’re setting off fireworks.”

The two almost fought on the sofa.

Jokes and banter aside, Gu Lizhou knew he couldn’t keep crashing at someone else’s place forever. It was disrupting their relationship too much.

Just a couple of days ago, his college roommate Cheng Hang had reached out, asking when he’d return to B City—there was something he needed help with.

Gu Lizhou had majored in computer science in college, initially aiming to join a software company as an engineer after graduation. Unexpectedly, during those four years, he developed a writing software equipped with mind-mapping features.

Cheng Hang, on the other hand, was exceptionally talented and his family has a mine. After graduation, he went straight into starting his own gaming company. Several of the games developed by his team consistently ranked on the popular charts of app stores.

This time, they were preparing to develop an adventure-puzzle mobile game where players could explore dozens of unique storylines.

The planning team would travel the world to conduct on-site research, recreating authentic scenes to give players a magical experience of adventuring amidst breathtaking landscapes.

The task Cheng Hang wanted to assign to Gu Lizhou was to write the main storylines for the various scenarios.

Although the workload would be massive, it was one of the few jobs that truly interested him.

Just as he was booking his flight online, a message from Zhong Weishi popped up.

-It’s my birthday tomorrow. Want to grab barbecue in the evening?

Before Gu Lizhou could finish reading, Zhong Weishi’s typing indicator appeared again.

-If you’re not into barbecue, we can eat something else. I love everything anyway [showing teeth] [showing teeth].

Zhong Weishi’s WeChat profile picture was a Q1Chibi. version of Luffy munching on a drumstick. Every time Gu Lizhou saw that avatar, he couldn’t help but picture Zhong Weishi’s cheerful smile.

A smiling face that was hard to refuse.

The unpaid flight ticket order was set to cancel automatically in 19 minutes.

Gu Lizhou’s fingers hovered indecisively over the input box for a long time.

Friendship between adults is peculiar. Despite having phones and WeChat, despite occasionally thinking of one another, they rarely take the initiative to reach out.

It’s the fear of disturbing the other person’s life, the dread of awkward silences in a conversation.

He knew his relationship with Zhong Weishi fell into that category—if they parted ways, they’d likely lose touch entirely.

Once he left, who knew when he’d return to Yucheng again? And who knew where that cheerful fountain of joy would end up?

Shooting, becoming famous, moving away…?

Gu Lizhou thought the phrase “parting never to meet again” could easily rank among the most heart-wrenching idioms ever.

[Useless Yet Awake]: Ok

[Lunatic]: Will there be a gift?

[Useless Yet Awake]: You’re so shameless. Who just outright asks for a gift like that?

[Lunatic]: Why do you think I told you a day in advance? I was afraid you’d show up empty-handed and feel embarrassed. Qiangzi and the others already have their gifts ready.

Gu Lizhou chuckled at his phone.

-What do you want? I’ll buy it for you.

-How boring is that, I like the feeling of surprise when I open the gifts!!! You mustn’t tell me!

-Dream on. I’m coming empty-handed for a free meal.

-Then I’ll rip your face off and use it as a rag.

A dialog box popped up on the web page.

Payment timeout. Your flight ticket order has been automatically canceled.

Chapter 26 – Itchy And Tingly, Like a Jolt Of Electricity.

“What song does everyone want to hear today?” Da Fei even turned on a voice changer during the live broadcast. The sugary tone made Gu Lizhou shudder.

Rows of comments flew by rapidly on the screen:

So beautiful today!

Goddess, Goddess, Goddess!

Da Fei looked at the comments and smiled more bashfully than Meng Jingshi from next door.

Gu Lizhou felt as if his throat was being choked and couldn’t utter a word.

His three world views collapsed.

Da Fei, you’re even prettier today!

Why are you so late today?

Da Fei explained, “The shop was busy. I worked overtime until after 10 p.m., then came home, took a shower, and changed into fresh clothes.”

Get some rest, baby.

Take care of your voice. You’re a little hoarse.

“What does he do for a living ah?” Gu Lizhou asked.

En? I haven’t mentioned it?” Zhong Weishi said. “Da Fei is the Chief Stylist at ‘Legendary Hair Salon’ on Yueshan Street.”

Zhong Weishi pointed to his own hair. “See this? He cut it for me. A wash, cut, and blow-dry—all for just 15 yuan. Not much different from the 3,600 you spent on yours, right? Da Fei graduated from a professional hairdressing academy and has unlimited potential. Next time, just mention his name—Fly, that’s Da Fei. He’ll definitely give you a discount.”

Zhong Weishi’s hair wasn’t permed or dyed, just a simple cut, barely considered a style. But this unremarkable hairstyle, paired with his outstandingly handsome face, would easily make him the most handsome guy on campus.

Gu Lizhou was slightly tempted. He thought that getting the same campus-heartthrob haircut might take years off his age. So he asked, “How much extra for care treatments?”

“Ca-care treatments?” Zhong Weishi, whose vocabulary didn’t even include those two words, scratched his cheek and asked, “What exactly do you want to take care of?”

Gu Lizhou: “… Forget it.”

Just then, a user with the ID “The Strongest on Earth” sent a virtual airplane, worth 999 yuan.

At the top of the screen, a dazzling special effect of a fighter jet flying across appeared.

[The Strongest on Earth]: How about a song <Romance in the Rain>.

The boldness, the tone, the song request—it perfectly embodied the image of a deep love and domineering CEO.

Da Fei clasped his hands together in front of the camera, smiling so hard he looked like a blooming flower. “Thank you, The Strongest on Earth, for the airplane. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

The joy of the harvest rushed out of the screen.

Gu Lizhou, having never watched a live broadcast before, didn’t understand how much these gifts were worth. But judging from the repeated “thank yous” and the anchor’s radiant smile, he could tell it was a big deal—completely different from the lukewarm reaction earlier when someone with an “F” in their name sent a gift.

Soon after, another user named “Oops, That’s That What It Feels Like” sent an aircraft carrier.

The aircraft carrier was the most expensive gift on the platform, worth 1,314 RMB. Its special effect featured Grandpa Mao falling and colorful fireworks that lasted for several seconds.

Just the special effect alone had to be worth at least ten yuan!

Gu Lizhou clicked his tongue twice. He felt that for the first time, he was out of touch with modern trends. He couldn’t understand what young people these days were thinking—staying up late watching stuff like this. What was the appeal?

“fvck! Da Fei’s hit the jackpot ah! He’s got die-hard fans now!” Zhong Weishi exclaimed, slapping his thigh.

Gu Lizhou was startled by his sudden movement, “How much can he even make from singing all night? Enough to buy a bowl of noodles?”

Zhong Weishi’s eyes widened like little brass bells. Once again, he felt the enormous generational gap between himself and the elderly.

‘The Strongest on Earth’ sent an aircraft carrier.

‘Oops, That’s That What It Feels Like’ sent out two aircraft carriers.

‘The Strongest on Earth’ sent three aircraft carriers.

‘Oops, That’s That What It Feels Like’ sent four aircraft carriers.

Zhong Weishi was completely dumbfounded.

Not only was he stunned, but Da Fei was also at a loss for words.

The Strongest on Earth was actually Qiangzi’s alternate account. Many of the IDs in the live broadcast room were people Qiangzi had invited as plants to create an illusion of popularity and success—like how a small roadside stall crowded with people draws curious bystanders to stop and check it out.

With tens of thousands of yuan coming in, the amount was staggering. However, the platform would take a 50% cut from the anchor’s tips as a handling fee.

This wave of operation is a bit hard to understand.

Da Fei, worried that Qiangzi wouldn’t be able to handle the hefty handling fees, was so anxious that his Taiwanese accent slipped out. “Stop sending gifts already, okay lah!”

In Zhong Weishi’s memory, ‘Oops, That’s That What It Feels Like’ had been to the livestream several times before. It was evident that this user now viewed ‘The Strongest on Earth’ as a love rival, furiously competing by sending more gifts.

And Qiangzi, that idiot, was actually willing to splurge despite the exorbitant fees. Was this what they meant by “you can’t catch the wolf without risking the child”?

The user who sent the most gifts would earn the glorious right to request a song.

[Oops, That’s That What It Feels Like]: I want to hear you sing <Love You>.

[The Strongest on Earth]: <Lull Me to Sleep> <Lull Me to Sleep> <Lull Me to Sleep>!!!

Both of them wanted to win the heart of the ‘beauty’, turning the whole scene into a dog blood show. Gu Lizhou was watching, utterly dumbstruck.

“Does that guy spamming gifts know that Da Fei is a man?”

“Know ah. Da Fei’s whole gimmick is cross-dressing for his live broadcast.”

“Then why is he still…” Gu Lizhou trailed off, unsure how to even comment.

“You don’t get it! They’re into this kind of thing,” Zhong Weishi said, pointing at the leaderboard. “See here? There’s a fan ranking. You can see how much each person has tipped. It’s all about gaining favor.”

Gu Lizhou really didn’t understand.

He didn’t get the taste of today’s younger generation, nor could he grasp the point of climbing a leaderboard.

Was it to get the anchor’s attention?

But at the end of the day, he was still a man ah! What was the point of gaining his favor ah! To date him!

Mobile Hotspot felt tired, he pulled the blanket over himself and closed his eyes.

Zhong Weishi put on his headphones and continued watching the live broadcast.

Recently, Da Fei’s talent shows had become increasingly diverse, even including square dancing, and the live broadcast room was in a frenzy.

This was a happy time that belonged to the otakus.

“Hey, do you think if I streamed myself doing fancy flips, will anyone watch?” Zhong Weishi asked.

“Aside from me, your captive audience, probably no one,” Gu Lizhou replied, his voice muffled and hoarse from beneath the blanket.

Zhong Weishi gave him a look. “Tch.”

Half an hour later, Gu Lizhou’s phone died and shut off automatically.

With no mobile hotspot to rely on, Zhong Weishi had no choice but to exit the live broadcast. He rolled over, pulled up his little blanket, and fell fast asleep within five minutes.

The old man beside him, who had spent over half an hour trying and failing to fall asleep, listened to the faint snoring and sank once again into deep contemplation about life and society.

Is the live broadcast platform considered a profitable industry? What kind of operations team would it take to develop such an app? Could such a team be used for money laundering?

What about minors using their parents’ phones to send tips? Should the platform bear some responsibility?

When Da Fei meets viewers in person, would he wear men’s or women’s clothing?

Is ‘Oops, That’s That What It Feels Like’ male or female?

What’s the purpose of exchanging WeChat? To chat? Meet up? Hook up? Or start a relationship?

And what if Da Fei encounters an organ-harvesting maniac? Would he have time to call for help?

Police receive a report of a body discovered in an old apartment building. During the autopsy, the coroner finds that the female victim is actually a man!

Following this sudden spark of inspiration, Gu Lizhou began constructing character profiles, frameworks, main plotlines, subplots, and foreshadowing, weaving in elements of friendship, family, love, justice, betrayal, and the complexity of human nature…

It could be a dark revenge drama. The protagonist could be a serial killer burdened by national and personal grievances, targeting the son of a corrupt government official who once caused him to lose his comrades. This could unravel a massive drug trafficking case…

Or, taking another perspective, if the protagonist were an undercover agent.. it could be a suspenseful detective story about justice and brotherhood.

The more he thought about it, the more hyperactive he became; and the harder it was to fall asleep.

In the latter half of the night, Zhong Weishi was still dreaming. Half-asleep, he felt a bit chilly, so he turned over, curling up like a little puppy in a hurry to drink milk. He burrowed toward the nearest warm spot.

After his forehead hit something, he quieted down and continued to dream.

Gu Li Zhou’s eyes widened in the darkness.

When he felt Zhong Weishi start to roll over, he instinctively backed away, pressing his back completely against the wall. But now, his chest was met with a warm, fuzzy head, exhaling hot breath against him. He felt like the filling in a sandwich.

“Ugh.” Gu Lizhou rolled his eyes at the ceiling..

The rag Zhong Weishi had tossed to him was flimsy, with a wide neckline. Any slight movement caused soft strands of hair to brush against his skin.

The sensation of touching the same thing with your palm versus your chest was completely different.

His weathered palms could only register softness, but his chest felt itchy and tingly, like a jolt of electricity.

Especially when Zhong Weishi raised his arm and dr4p3d it over his thigh—Gu Lizhou almost jumped straight out of bed.

What’s wrong with this guy!

What are you doing on a hot day like this!

Dreaming of being a koala!

The room was so quiet that the only sound was the steady rhythm of a certain someone’s breathing.

Gu Lizhou initially tried to endure it, hoping Zhong Weishi would eventually roll over on his own. But he didn’t. Instead, the warm breath on Gu Lizhou’s chest only made the itchiness and discomfort worse.

A sticky feeling.

How could anyone sleep like this?

Gu Lizhou grabbed Zhong Weishi’s arm with one hand, pressed his shoulder with the other, and gave him a firm push forward.

Zhong Weishi rolled half a turn.

Gu Lizhou was certain this move would wake him up, so he immediately closed his eyes and pretended to be dead.

Unexpectedly, not only did Zhong Weishi not wake up, but he lay in 大 shape for less than half a minute before soft snores started up again.

Gu Lizhou: “…”

One of Gu Lizhou’s legs swung over Zhong Weishi as he reached for the phone on the nightstand.

Zhong Weishi hadn’t changed his password, so after unlocking the phone, Gu Lizhou prepared to record the snores as a ringtone.

The faint light from the phone screen outlined a shallow silhouette in the dark.

Because he didn’t sleep in the right position on the pillow, Zhong Weishi’s head was slightly tilted back, his mouth half-open.

A childish, defenseless sleeper.

Gu Lizhou stared for a moment, then couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Click.” The sound of a shutter echoed, accompanied by the flash, lighting up the quiet room like a bolt of lightning. Gu Lizhou froze, his hair standing on end. He hurriedly clutched his phone and shoved it under the blanket.

The same brat who had repeatedly warned before bed, “I’m a light sleeper, don’t toss and turn, or you’ll wake me up,” hadn’t stopped snoring for a second.

What kind of sleep state was this!

Gu Lizhou felt genuine envy deep in his heart.

It was 3:30 a.m.

Mobile hotspot still couldn’t sleep.

The air conditioner in the room was old and lacked a thermostat function. When it was on, it felt too cold; when it was off, it became too hot. Occasionally, the sound of passing cars could be heard from outside.

For someone with chronic insomnia, even breathing sounds could be a disturbance, let alone someone fidgeting nearby.

Normally, Gu Lizhou would wear earplugs or listen to sleep-aid music. But tonight, neither option was available, so he lay still, letting his thoughts wander aimlessly.

At some point, the blanket Zhong Weishi had wrapped himself in slid to the floor. Combined with his tossing and turning, his stomach was now exposed.

Gu Lizhou glanced over, adjusted the air conditioner two degrees warmer, pulled his own blanket over Zhong Weishi’s flat stomach, and gave it a gentle pat.

Chapter 25 – Hahahahahahahaha–

Gu Lizhou was stunned for a few seconds before pounding the edge of the bed twice in a frenzy, letting out a crazed roar. He then unleashed another barrage of punches on the bed, his grin wicked and unrestrained. It was the kind of smile someone might have after being cheated on by his girlfriend, only to win the lottery jackpot and have their ex-girlfriend crawling back—a chaotic mix of emotions erupting into uncontainable joy.

There was only one word for his feelings: Ecstatic!

To others, though, he looked completely insane.

Zhong Weishi immediately realized this wasn’t good—he’d overdone it and driven the guy to madness. What could be done now?

Hurriedly, he tried to console Gu Lizhou as he stammered, “B-b-but! But maybe he’s just some nasty man—yes, exactly, a foot-scratching big man. God is fair. No way he’d give someone both talent and looks…”

“Hahahahahahahahahaha-”1I went and counted it lmao. He erupted into maniacal laughter.

Seeing Gu Lizhou spiraling further into madness, Zhong Weishi felt his heart clench in fear. In desperation, he even threw away his pride and made himself the example. “Look at me for example. I’m handsome, young, full of life—but not exactly bright…”

Gu Lizhou threw his head back and laughed recklessly, far more unrestrained than on that day at the square dance.

He had a belly full of emotions he wanted to vent.

He wanted Zhong Weishi to know that the stubborn piece of scrap metal in his eyes was actually his long-cherished white moonlight. He wanted to see Zhong Weishi kneeling under his boxers with a face full of adoration. But rationality told him this wasn’t the time—something even more entertaining lay ahead.

It took quite a while before he managed to calm down. Gu Lizhou’s heart was racing, and he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from lifting. No matter how he looked at the little bastard in front of him, he found him utterly adorable.

He couldn’t even help but raise his hand and ruffle this silly ass’ head.

Zhong Weishi’s words had struck right at the core of his confidence.

There was only one Wan Lizhou in the world. So even if he disappeared for five years, fifteen, or fifty years, someone would still remember him.

He had to admit—the little thing had good taste.

“What are you doing ah?” Zhong Weishi’s hair was already thick, and now it exploded from all the ruffling.

Unexpectedly, Gu Lizhou tousled his hair even more aggressively and even flicked his nose, calling him a little bastard.

Aiya-” Zhong Weishi batted Gu Lizhou’s arm away with a disgusted face. “What’s wrong with you? One minute you’re upset, the next you’re overjoyed. Split personality ah?”

En.” Gu Lizhou was in the middle of his excitement, completely unable to hear what he was saying. He stared at Zhong Weishi like he was a priceless treasure. “Tell me more about that great god.”

When Zhong Weishi came to know about the author Wan Lizhou, it was already after he had ceased writing. He had only skimmed the author’s profile, followed his Weibo, and remained oblivious to the disputes between him and Jiu Mangxing, as well as the much-publicized incident involving the harassment of a female fan back in the day.

“He said until we meet again, but it’s been more than five years with no news at all. Guess he’s probably done writing for good,” Zhong Weishi sighed softly.

The excited and exuberant smile on Gu Lizhou’s face gradually faded.

“What a pity. I’ve read lots of books in that genre, but it’s rare to find an author whose every work resonates with you. His writing style is so unique, something many people can’t imitate. Those explorations of humanity, interests, fate, and emotions all carry faint traces of real life. The plots might be fantastical, yet they make people feel so authentic. Opening one of his books is like stepping into a flawlessly constructed illusion, and you hesitate to leave. Reading his work gives you strength, the kind that says even when life has you beaten down, you must never give up. I imagine the author must be just as dynamic and resilient as his protagonists—confident, optimistic, and broad-minded!”

Hearing these words warmed Gu Lizhou’s heart. He pursed his lips and humbly muttered, “He’s not as great as you’re making him out to be.”

“Shut up! You’re not allowed to insult my idol.” Zhong Weishi glared at him. “You didn’t even read it to know shit.”

“…” Gu Lizhou wanted to laugh but didn’t dare to.

“In short, I think he must be super carefree and charismatic,” Zhong Weishi exclaimed. “Let me show you his handwriting! They say handwriting reflects the person. I just know he’s as dashing as the way he writes.”

“But didn’t you just call him a foot-scratching big man?” Gu Lizhou teased.

“You believe that kind of lie?” Zhong Weishi clicked on Weibo and handed over one of Wan Lizhou’s rare handwritten notes. “Look at this!”

After five years, Gu Lizhou only felt that the words he left behind long ago were sour and embarrassingly sappy, like revisiting the melodramatic entries from his student days QQ Space account.

So much so that he wanted to delete his Weibo!!!

The die-hard fan even read the words aloud with deep emotion: “I believe in destiny, and I also believe that destiny is something you carve out for yourself step by step. Listen to that! Such profound yet incomprehensible wisdom—absolutely iconic!”

“What the hell.” Gu Lizhou smiled so hard his eyes curved into crescents. “So, if you ever get the chance to meet him in person, what would you say to him?”

“Meet him in person ah…”

Regardless of gender, people’s eyes always sparkled like a sea of tiny stars when they spoke about their idols.

Zhong Weishi rested his chin on his hand, daydreaming like a lovestruck teenager. “I’m sure I’d shake his hand to get some good luck ah! Then, I’d ask for an autograph!”

Gu Li Zhou raised an eyebrow, “That’s it?”

Zhong Weishi’s eyes rolled. “Well, if it’s just the two of us, I might ask for a hug, too. So we can get more luck.”

“…” So, this guy’s been plotting all day to leech off his good luck?

Is this how humans behave?

Gu Lizhou struck a pose like a drunk imperial concubine, staring at him. “Don’t you have anything you actually want to say to him?”

Zhong Weishi hugged a pillow, giggling foolishly. “Wan Lizhou-ge, I’m your fan. Can I add you on WeChat ah…”

Gu Li Zhou: “How about a swimming fitness to understand?

“Ugh!” Zhong Weishi rolled his eyes.

“Look at you with your low ambitions,” Gu Lizhou smiled. Then he asked, “Okay, let’s say you add him. What then?”

“Go through his Moments ah! See what the god is up to on a daily basis, maybe even sell some of his insider news for a quick buck.” Zhong Weishi slapped his thigh. “Wait, let me redo my answer ah. One autograph isn’t enough—I’ll demand a thousand! No, no, no, ten thousand!”

Gu Li Zhou: “…” This is not a fan, but a vampire.

Zhong Weishi casually scrolled through the latest comments under Wan Lizhou’s Weibo. Almost all were begging for his return to writing.

“If he makes a comeback, the entire Xinghe Century would be shaken to its core.”

Gu Li Zhou craned his neck full of pride.

That’s how you talk!

Worthy of being his fan!

“Aren’t you going to ask him why he stopped writing?”

“Why else ah,” Zhong Weishi shrugged, ”he’s too old to write.”

Gu Li Zhou’s throat tightened.

His emotions felt just like the plot twists in his novels—full of bizarre ups and downs.

Up, down, up, down, and then plummeting straight down…

He clutched the bedsheet and blanket beneath him tightly, gritting his teeth, barely suppressing the urge to punt Zhong Weishi from the 3rd floor all the way to the 18th underground level.

“Ah, ah, ah. It’s over, it’s over, it’s over. It’s all your fault.” Zhong Weishi slapped the mattress several times in a row, ”I’m going to miss the live broadcast.”

Gu Lizhou froze, “What live broadcast?”

“Da Fei’s live broadcast ah! I’ve gotta hop on and give him some clout!” Zhong Weishi said, clicking into an app.

Gu Li Zhou raised his hand and looked at his watch.

A quarter past twelve.

A look of contempt, “At this hour, is it a proper live broadcast?”

“Thank you, ‘A Single Red Apricot Leans Over The Wall,’ for the Rainbow Candy gift… ah, and thanks to ‘This Is Not a Ride To The Grove’’ for the Lucky Bell gift.”

Da Fei’s “sweet” voice came out from the phone.

Gu Li Zhou’s handsome features became distorted due to the impactful image and explicit barrage on the screen.

The screen showed a “little girl” with meticulously applied makeup, sporting air bangs, twin pigtails, and a blue-and-white sailor outfit adorned with a delicate bow at the center of the top.

Perched on their head was a pair of fluffy pink-and-white bunny ears. Judging from the background, the live broadcast was taking place in a bedroom filled with stuffed animals, complete with lace-trimmed bed covers.

In short, the scene embodied two words: dreamy and provocative.

Big Fei, after hearing about Er’Gou dropping 300,000 yuan on a streamer, was struck by inspiration. Particularly memorable was the police officer’s statement: “Little girl, did they bully you just now? If they did, you can tell us.” He was greatly inspired.

He felt that this aspect of the male market could be properly developed to make a little money.

So in the dead of night, he did a live broadcast.

“It’s a proper livestream. Absolutely decent. He never takes his clothes off during the stream,” Zhong Weishi assured while typing in a comment.

Gu Lizhou: “…”

Upstairs, the Wi-Fi was frustratingly slow, buffering every two seconds and freezing for a full minute. The comment wouldn’t even send.

Zhong Weishi elbowed the person next to him. “Got any mobile data? Share it with me; the upstairs internet’s too slow.”

Gu Lizhou’s eyes widened. “What do you take me for ah?”

“Mobile hotspot.” Zhong Weishi didn’t think twice.

“…” Gu Lizhou didn’t hold back, either. “No way. Why don’t you use your own data?”

Zhong Weishi, the poster child of modern-day poverty, had less than 10 yuan in phone credit. Even in the era of 4G, he worries about running out of data every month.

“If I use any more, I’ll go over my limit! Just lend me enough for 50 cents’ worth of data. There’s ice cream in the fridge; I’ll let you have it. Go grab it yourself,” Zhong Weishi said.

“I don’t eat sweet stuff this late at night,” Gu Lizhou said.

“Then save it for tomorrow,” Zhong Weishi said while grabbing Gu Lizhou’s thumb and forcibly using it to unlock his phone with fingerprint recognition. “We’re brothers—no need to stand on ceremony. Just remember to check the production date. Some batches are from the year before last.”

“…”

Gu Lizhou suddenly felt that it was a fvcking miracle this little punk was still alive—a miracle more astounding than his own rise to the rich list back in the day.

After connecting to the hotspot, the livestream still lagged, making it clear that the real problem was Zhong Weishi’s phone.

Gu Lizhou wrinkled his eyebrows. “Your crappy phone should’ve been replaced with a stainless steel basin.”

Zhong Weishi: “…”

At this point, the number of people in the live broadcast room was already approaching four digits.

It was an absolutely baffling phenomenon for an old person like Gu Lizhou, who had long retired from the modern world.

It was true what they said—the forest is vast, and it harbors all kinds of birds.

Zhong Weishi’s username looked like someone had smashed a keyboard to create it.

[fapgnapg]: Baby Fei, love you muah muah! Jiayou oh! This outfit today is the third color between snow and moonlight, the absolute color!

Gu Lizhou gagged audibly.

Pop-up: “fapgnapg” gifted a chocolate ball.

Gu Lizhou swept him a glance, “A single yuan, is this what you call showing support?”

Zhong Weishi : “You know nothing! A yuan isn’t money to you ah! Do you have any idea what that one yuan means to me!”

Gu Li Zhou was full of contempt: “What?”

Zhong Weishi exclaimed dramatically, “It means tomorrow’s pancake will be missing the spicy strips! You can’t just look at what I give; you need to consider what I have! Someone like you, born with a silver spoon in your mouth, could never understand the pain of us poor folk! Do you have any idea what it feels like not to eat spicy strips…”

Gu Lizhou casually sent him a WeChat red packet. “A year’s supply of spicy strips.”

“Thank you, boss!” Zhong Weishi immediately kowtowed to him.

Meanwhile, Da Fei grinned at the camera. “Thank you to that viewer with the ‘f’ name for gifting a chocolate ball.”

Gu Lizhou was puzzled. “Why does he have to read out what everyone gives?”

“Hm…” Zhong Weishi paused thoughtfully. “It’s probably like a little ritual to show appreciation. When you hear your name mentioned, you feel kind of proud.”

Gu Lizhou: “Sounds like a beggar.”

“Can you shut up.” Zhong Weishi snapped, rolling his eyes dramatically.

Gu Lizhou stiffened, pointing at Da Fei on the screen with a mix of shock and awkwardness. “H-he, he can hear us talking right now?”

Zhong Weishi: “…” He felt that Gu Lizhou was lying about his age being 32 years old. This guy’s clearly living in his grandparents’ era, right?


Translator’s notes: Sorry for the delays in update. I was quite busy during the holidays. Happy new year to everyone! ❤️

Chapter 24 – “Cover yourself up already. You look ridiculous. My eyes are burning.”

Coincidentally, the room Zhong Weishi was staying in happened to be the one Gu Lizhou had slept in as a child. Even the Ultraman stickers on the nightstand hadn’t been peeled off.

Gu Lizhou collapsed onto the bed with his limbs spread out, letting out a satisfied sigh. “So comfortable.” The nostalgia of childhood washed over him.

Zhong Weishi thought to himself that this guy really had no limits when it came to finding excuses to stay. Even such an outright lie could roll off his tongue.

This bed was a hard plank left behind by the landlord. It was stiff, old, and narrow, having weathered who-knows-how-many years of wear and tear. Every time someone turned over, the noise was deafening. Even with a blanket thrown on top, it was barely a step above sleeping at a subway station. “Comfortable” wasn’t even in the same galaxy as this bed.

What was this—some rich second generation kid’s way of experiencing life?

Did eating too much bird’s nest and shark fin soup make him crave scraps and wilted greens?

“You’re not performing any rituals?” Zhong Weishi chuckled softly.

Gu Lizhou turned onto his side in a pose reminiscent of a drunk imperial concubine. “I’m exorcising ghosts with sheer willpower.”

“Let me remind you ah.” Zhong Weishi pulled a T-shirt from the wardrobe. “This bed makes a racket every time you move so much. If you keep tossing and turning and wake me up in the middle of the night, or stop me from falling asleep, I’m keeping your money.”

“I won’t sleep until you’re asleep,” Gu Lizhou replied, grabbing the T-shirt. But after one glance, he flipped his eyes and tossed it back. “What the hell is this, a rag?”

“Then go naked,” Zhong Weishi said.

Gu Lizhou caught sight of a neatly folded shirt on top of the pile. He asked, “Is that white one new? Let me see.”

Zhong Weishi threw it to him.

Gu Lizhou inspected the shirt from every angle. It looked vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t place where he’d seen it before—until he heard Zhong Weishi say, “The one you bought for me last time ah.”

“Ah…” Gu Lizhou held the T-shirt up, noticing the tag was still attached. “Why haven’t you worn it yet ah?”

Zhong Weishi’s wardrobe was mostly filled with rags bought for 19.9 yuan with free shipping—faded, pilled, and mismatched. Pairing them with something that cost 898 yuan would probably make it look like a knockoff from a street stall.

Besides, his daily routine involved filming outside, rolling around in action scenes, and getting into mock fights. Clothes wouldn’t last more than three days before looking worn out.

He couldn’t bring himself to wear it.

Of course, the excuse he gave was: “It’s for warding off bad vibes.”

Gu Lizhou rolled his eyes and picked up the original ragged shirt. “Fine, let it keep warding off whatever it’s supposed to.”

Zhong Weishi was surprised at how familiar this old scoundrel was with his apartment. Not only did Gu Lizhou immediately find the bathroom, but he also turned on the bathroom heater with practiced ease, as if it were his own home.

He even knew where the water heater’s socket was.

Scary!

Leaning against the doorframe, Zhong Weishi got straight to the point. “Be honest, were you a pickpocket before ah?”

Gu Li Zhou was stunned, “Huh?”

Zhong Weishi figured it was possible Gu Lizhou had secretly “visited” 301, only to leave disappointed when he realized its owner was even poorer than he was.

He decided to word it more tactfully. “I mean, like one of those noble thieves who rob the rich to help the poor. And now you’ve decided to retire and go straight.” The more he said it, the more it seemed plausible! It fit perfectly with Gu Lizhou’s profile—a wealthy man with “a reputation,” now wanting to reform and start fresh.

“It’s a shame you don’t publish books,” Gu Lizhou said, slamming the door behind him as he began undressing.

Zhong Weishi instinctively pushed the door open again, then froze in place and quickly shut it.

His mind was suddenly filled with the image of those two pale pink dots and Gu Lizhou’s bewildered expression.

Forget it.

He lay down on the bed.

If Gu Lizhou was a thief, then he must have been a damn good one.

Gu Lizhou’s bewilderment lasted for quite a while. He had searched every corner of the bathroom, but there wasn’t a trace of body wash—only a bar of soap.

Soap was soap; he could be nostalgic for a moment. But the key issue was that the soap had three bold characters stamped on it: Shu Jia Jia.

To top it off, before he started scrubbing his clothes with laundry detergent, he decided to double-check. Sure enough, the label read “Lan Ri Liang1Blue Sunshine.—those three words shone brighter than the moon outside tonight.

Setting his dirty clothes aside to take home and wash the next morning, Gu Lizhou returned to the bedroom and commented, “That laundry detergent of yours is fake, isn’t it? What the hell is Lan Ri Liang?”

“Ah,” Zhong Weishi replied, lying face down on the bed without lifting his head. “Bought it from that crappy supermarket downstairs. Didn’t really pay attention when I got it, but it smells pretty nice after washing.”

Gu Lizhou picked up his collar and sniffed. “Fart, it stinks.”

Zhong Weishi let out an ‘en, ‘ “Yeah, it’s probably because I just farted.”

Gu Lizhou kicked him on the butt.

Tight and flexible.

The odd sensation made him pause for a moment.

Zhong Weishi glanced back at him. Somehow, Gu Lizhou had managed to wear that nearly see-through, washed-out rag of a shirt with the poise of a runway model rocking high-fashion homeless chic. Meanwhile, his lower half was clad only in a new pair of underwear.

It was jarring.

Zhong Weishi tossed a small blanket at him. “Cover yourself up already. You look ridiculous. My eyes are burning.”

Gu Lizhou chuckled. “So, what wouldn’t burn your eyes ah?”

Zhong Weishi didn’t think twice, “My kind.”

Gu Lizhou didn’t say anything, still laughing.

Zhong Weishi caught a faint hint of mockery and raised his middle finger to him “Definitely bigger than yours.”

Gu Lizhou didn’t bother to bullshit him and climbed into bed, tilting his head slightly toward Zhong Weishi. “What are you reading?”

“A novel.” Zhong Weishi wiggled his toes. “<Enchanting Jin’an>. Heard of it? It’s Jiu Mangxing’s new work—absolutely brilliant.”

Of all authors, it had to be his nemesis.

Gu Lizhou rolled his eyes so hard they could’ve outshone pearls. “Not interested. What’s so great about it?”

Zhong Weishi finished the last bite of his red bean popsicle. As he chewed on the stick, he began promoting it enthusiastically: “It’s really good. Just read a few chapters, and you’ll get it. It’s a suspense mystery. I thought it was pretty average at first, but it keeps getting better the deeper you go. Each twist connects perfectly to the next. The author’s seriously NB. They’re even adapting it into a TV series soon. Though, I’m not sure if they can pull off the supernatural effects…”

Zhong Weishi rambled on endlessly. The chatter grated on Gu Lizhou’s nerves until he couldn’t hold back anymore and interrupted, “Why the hell would I care? I don’t want to know anything about him.”

Though Zhong Weishi usually came across as carefree, he was actually quite perceptive when it came to the key moment. Sensing something off about Gu Lizhou, he put down his phone and asked, “What’s wrong ah? Are you upset?”

Gu Lizhou realized his tone earlier had been a bit harsh and muttered softly, “Nothing. I just don’t really like that author.”

“Then let’s not talk about him.” Zhong Weishi grinned and said, “Let’s talk to you about my idol.”

Because of the earlier topic, Gu Lizhou wasn’t particularly interested. “Takeshi Kaneshiro, Daniel Wu, or Louis Koo?”

“None of them.” Zhong Weishi shook his head smugly. “My idol’s a writer too. His name is Wan Lizhou. Have you heard of him? He wrote a famous novel called <Souls of the Dead>… It’s a fantasy story. The main character starts off with just the ability to see people’s lifespans…”

Every fan, when talking about their idol, has eyes that light up and words that flow endlessly, as if hoping the whole world could join in their admiration.

Zhong Weishi was no different.

Gu Lizhou’s entire being was frozen as if someone had pressed the pause button.

He had never imagined that one day, in such an unexpected place and in such an unbelievable way, he would hear someone else casually mention the names of the characters from his own books.

It was an overwhelming rush of nostalgia, mixed with… pure euphoria!

The air conditioning blew, lifting the hair on top of Zhong Weishi’s head, making it stick up.

Gu Lizhou suddenly found himself thinking that this little rascal was looking more and more pleasing to the eye.

“Actually, I only started reading his books a few years ago. Back then, Wei-ge recommended <The Sovereign of Another World> to me. Once I started, I couldn’t stop—I went back and read everything he’d ever written. I can’t even imagine how someone in their 20s could write something like that. It’s terrifying. That’s the difference between a genius and us mere mortals ah…” Zhong Weishi’s wave of rainbow farts blew loud and long.

Gu Li Zhou first had a burst of passion and his heart raced with excitement, then he shamelessly encouraged Zhong Weishi to say more.

After all, who wouldn’t be curious about how others perceived them?

Even the great god writer was certainly no exception.

Sure, he had seen countless comments online like “This author is amazing,” “Their writing is brilliant and epic,” and “They bring every character to life.” But hearing it said to his face by a real reader? That was a uniquely surreal and embarrassing experience.

Especially that sentence: “I really love him.”

Gu Lizhou felt like his cheeks were about to cramp from holding back his grin. “Is he really that good?”

“Of course!” Zhong Weishi raised his eyebrows and said rather proudly. “No one has ever surpassed him in my heart—not even Jiu Mangxing. Wan Lizhou will always be my white moonlight!”

Zhong Weishi watched in real-time as the person before him went from looking like he’d just eaten shit to blushing like a shy teenager spotting their crush.

The whole transformation took less than two minutes.

He even smiled a little lewdly.

“You’ve definitely read his work before, right? He’s probably from your generation ah,” Zhong Weishi said.

Your. Generation.

Every word hit Gu Lizhou’s chest like an 80-kilogram sledgehammer, pounding relentlessly against his metaphorical white moonlight.

Gu Lizhou felt like coughing up blood, but he gritted his teeth as he shook his head. “Never heard of him.”

Not only had he not read Wan Lizhou’s work—he hadn’t even heard of him. This was a devastating blow to the diehard fan sitting before him.

This is the generation gap between the young and the old ah!

Zhong Weishi snorted derisively, clearly unimpressed. He twisted the knife further: “See, this is the difference. Look at Wan Lizhou—he debuted before he even turned 20, writing novels. In just a few years, he created legendary works with billions of clicks. He’s an SSS-level diamond-tier author in the Xinghe Century rankings, with a net worth in the hundreds of millions. He even made it onto that, what was it? The Starlight Authors’ Rankings. His works are still classics after all these years. Now, look at yourself.”

Zhong Weishi gave Gu Lizhou a once-over, his eyes filled with disdain. “Hmm? A stubborn piece of scrap metal.”

Gu Lizhou: “…”

Chapter 23 – “Ew–you’re such a pervert.”

At 10:30 PM, the area outside the Lanshan Apartments was so dark that one couldn’t see their fingers. In the living room, the lightbulb flickered on and off, creating an atmosphere that was automatically set to the creepiest level.

Gu Lizhou, being a master storyteller who could churn out tens of thousands of words daily and dominate the rankings, effortlessly spun a chilling midnight ghost story. Paired with the eerie ambiance of the old apartment building, Zhong Weishi found himself utterly captivated, almost believing every word.

“The girl was wearing a striking red cheongsam before she died. Her hair was disheveled, and her body wasn’t discovered until several days after she hanged herself. During the autopsy, they found that one of her high heels was missing…”

Hugging a small cushion tightly, Zhong Weishi shrunk into a ball, “Where did it go?”

“No one knows ah. Later, the residents here started feeling a heavy pressure on their shoulders and necks, they went to the hospital but they couldn’t find anything wrong. An old neighbor’s granny advised one of them to consult a Taoist priest. At that time, that priest brought out a Bagua mirror…”

Zhong Weishi listened intently, his mouth slightly agape.

Gu Lizhou, mastering the pacing of his story, suddenly raised his voice at the climax, “And in the Bagua mirror, a shadow appeared! She was hanging right where you’re sitting now!!”

“fvck!” Zhong Weishi felt something tap his shoulder and leapt up instantly. “You-you-you-you, stop talking about this… in the middle of the night!”

Gu Lizhou retracted his arm and leaned back, revealing a triumphant smirk. “Can you still sleep?”

“Why can’t I sleep.”

Though slightly spooked, Zhong Weishi retained his rationality. He knew that ghosts and monsters only existed in novels and TV.

He pulled out his phone and played a song, intending to take it to the bathroom for his shower. “It’s not like I killed her. If she’s looking for someone, it should be her scumbag ex-boyfriend.”

Gu Lizhou was about to make up something even more terrifying when Zhong Weishi cut him off with a look of driving ducks into the water,1Chinese idiom which typically implies someone forcing or ruching another to do something, often with little choice or patience involved. Just like how one might drive ducks into water without their full cooperation. “Why are you still here? Go to bed. I’m going to shower. Or do you want to stay and watch?”

“Go ahead and shower. I’ll just sit here a bit longer,” Gu Lizhou crossed his legs and sat down on the sofa. He was ready to perform a live demonstration of falling asleep right there. After all, it was hot, and crashing on the couch for the night didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“Tsk, tsk. You feel the yin energy here is too strong? My yang energy is abundant. Let me balance it out for you so you don’t get possessed.”

Zhong Weishi felt his nonsense was becoming more and more ridiculous. Suspicious, he asked, “You’re not scared to go back, are you?”

“Ha!” Gu Lizhou let out a cold laugh. “As if. You go shower first, and I’ll leave when you’re done.”

“To be my protector ah? So kind?” Zhong Weishi laughed.

Gu Li Zhou: “When did I treat you badly?”

Just then, Zhong Weishi’s phone chimed.

[Cao Zhiheng]: Little guy, my girlfriend is staying over tonight, so I don’t have an extra room. At this hour, it’s hard to get a ride, so could you let Old Gu stay at your place for the night?

Realization dawned on Zhong Weishi. He replied with a “Sure.”

[Cao Zhiheng]: Sorry to bother you!

[Cao Zhiheng]: He’s mostly fine, just really grumpy when he wakes up. Don’t talk to him in the morning. I’ll treat you to a meal sometime!

After replying, Zhong Weishi turned his head to glance at the one who was now sitting cross-legged on the sofa, looking like he was meditating. He couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

God damn balancing yin and yang.

How had he not noticed before that this guy was full of crap?

“What are you laughing at?” Gu Lizhou frowned, “Why don’t you hurry up and take a shower?”

His tone was so brusque, it was as if he were the master of the house.

“Oh,” Zhong Weishi didn’t say anything. He held his clothes and headed into the bathroom.

Gu Lizhou looked around at his family’s old house.

The landlord likely bought this apartment just to rent it out. They had simply repainted the walls and added some new appliances, but most of the furnishings remained unchanged, only moved around slightly.

The tables, chairs, and stools were the same ones Gu Lizhou had used as a child, even the sofa beneath him now.

The solid wood furniture was incredibly durable; decades later, it had only a bit of surface wear and tear. The armrest still bore the circular burn mark left by his grandfather’s cigarette.

Curled up on the sofa, Gu Lizhou glanced at the TV, which was replaying a legal program. The host’s deep, resonant voice was as familiar as ever.

It was as if time had traveled back to the summer of more than twenty years ago.

“Hey, old man, where did you pick up this little kitten ah?”

“Got it from the factory. Old Li’s family’s cat had a whole litter of kittens, and they’re all so beautifully colored. Zhou Zhou, come out and see what I brought back for you!”

“Kittens!”

“Like it?”

“Like it!”

The little kitten sniffed around on the floor, occasionally tripping over its own feet as if performing a comedy act.

“Why did you suddenly think of getting a cat?”

“Zhou Zhou spends weekends at home alone—it’s boring for him. A kitten will keep him company.”

“Zhou Zhou, eat more so you can grow taller. Look at Old Cao’s son. He never likes eating and is always drinking soda, which is why he’s so scrawny—just a skinny little bamboo stick. You need to eat your greens.”

“Ai–I don’t want to grow taller. I want braised pork.”

“Eat the vegetables first and then eat the meat.”

“But Grandpa didn’t eat any vegetables! He’s already eaten two pieces of meat!”

“Hahaha… you little rascal.”

The little boy, barely over a meter tall, hugged the kitten tightly as he curled up on the sofa. His grandmother’s palm-leaf fan would wave gently, lulling him through a lazy summer afternoon.

The warm smiles and gentle voices of his grandparents seemed to reappear vividly before his eyes. Gu Lizhou chuckled softly at the memory, but soon found the tip of his nose stinging with a hint of sadness.

He laughed because their lives had been filled with love and care for him. But the pain came from how they had passed away—neither peacefully.

Grandpa had terminal stomach cancer, and grandma, overwhelmed by depression, followed him shortly after.

The day his grandfather passed, Gu Lizhou was still at school, unable to make it back in time to see him one last time—a regret that lingered with him to this day.

Zhong Weishi secretly cracked the bathroom door open to sneak a glance. He saw Gu Lizhou stretch lazily before flopping down onto the sofa in a perfectly shameless move.

This wave of rogue operation was quite skillful ah!

When Zhong Weishi finished his shower and came out, Gu Lizhou was still lying in the same position, curled up on the sofa, hugging a small cushion.

A 32-year-old man cuddling a pillow adorned with a cartoon puppy—it was such an absurd yet oddly endearing sight.

The air conditioner in the living room was broken, and the small oscillating fan blew rhythmic puffs of air, causing Gu Lizhou’s T-shirt to billow slightly, revealing a small section of his waist. The gentle curve of his torso, combined with the way his side-lying posture highlighted his collarbones peeking from under his neckline, gave an unexpectedly striking impression.

Even Gu Lizhou’s hair was meticulously styled with hair spray, maintaining a handsome look even as he lounged.

In Zhong Weishi’s eyes, this man was simply flirty as hell.

He hadn’t planned to wake Gu Lizhou, but seeing how his long legs had no place to stretch out, awkwardly curled up on the narrow sofa, made him look a little pitiful.

The two-seater sofa was clearly too small to accommodate the man. If he stayed like this until morning, he was bound to wake up with a stiff back, sore waist, and cramping legs.

Letting Gu Lizhou crash for a night wasn’t a big deal at all, especially since he had covered two months of rent in advance. Honestly, if he wanted to stay here, Zhong Weishi wouldn’t have minded. What he didn’t understand was why Gu Lizhou needed to come up with such a ridiculous excuse to stay.

Bending down, Zhong Weishi poked Gu Lizhou’s arm, silently guessing that the man would play dead.

Sure enough, Gu Lizhou didn’t disappoint. He even added an extra flourish by letting out a rhythmic, believable snore.

The sound wasn’t exaggerated but naturally deep and steady.

“Hey, rich man,” Zhong Weishi muttered, curling a finger and flicking Gu Lizhou’s beauty peak. “Wake up, the moon’s shining on your ass already.”

Gu Lizhou’s eyebrows twitched slightly, but he simply rolled over to face the back of the sofa, pressing his forehead against the gap. A low, hoarse grunt escaped his throat.

The general meaning was: I’m already asleep, leave me alone.

His calm and composed performance was so convincing that even Zhong Weishi had to admit defeat.

Pushing lightly on Gu Lizhou’s shoulder, Zhong Weishi whispered, “You’re really not going to shower ah? Is this how rich people live, just roughing it like this?”

Gu Lizhou’s eyebrows twitched and didn’t move.

Leaning in closer, Zhong Weishi blew a soft puff of air near his ear. “Hey, did you hear me ah? The spot you’re lying on is where the ghost hanged herself ah. Don’t you feel a little heavy on your shoulders?”

When he got close, he could smell a faint tobacco odor on the other person.

It was enough to stir up Zhong Weishi’s cravings for a cigarette.

“I just heard something strange in the bathroom. It was kind of creepy…” Zhong Weishi propped his hands on his knees as he leaned in to whisper near Gu Lizhou’s ear. “How about you move to my room instead, huh?”

Internally, Gu Lizhou celebrated with a triumphant ‘Yes’ but afraid that waking up too suddenly would seem fake. He let out a few groggy grunts for a long time, then finally furrowed his brows and put on an expression that screamed ‘Oh, when did you get here?’ Before asking groggily, “You’re done showering?”

“Ah,” Zhong Weishi nodded. “I’ve finished. So, are you heading back now?”

WTF!?

That’s not what you said earlier!

Gu Li Zhou’s heart roared.

En?” Zhong Weishi raised an eyebrow, looking smug.

Clearing his throat, Gu Lizhou rubbed his ears dramatically. “Uh, did I hear something move? I didn’t catch it clearly; I must’ve been asleep.”

Zhong Weishi chuckled, too lazy to call him out. “Go shower, then come to my room to keep balancing the energy. My place has heavy yin energy—I keep hearing marbles dropping on the floor.”

“Oh!? Really?” Gu Lizhou jumped at the opportunity. “Didn’t know you were so timid. Well, in that case, I suppose I have no choice but to reluctantly help you analyze the situation.”

Zhong Weishi: “…”

Gu Lizhou said he was going back to grab a change of clothes, but after about ten minutes with no sign of him returning, Zhong Weishi’s curiosity got the better of him. Peeking out, he spotted Gu Lizhou crouching in an odd posture outside apartment 303.

No key?

“What are you do…” The rest of the sentence never made it out of his mouth. Zhong Weishi was abruptly spun around, one arm locking tightly across his chest while the other clamped firmly over his mouth.

He tried to push the arm away but couldn’t budge it.

“Shh!—” Gu Lizhou’s voice, along with the heat of his breath, tickled Zhong Weishi’s ear.

Zhong Weishi could feel it—the warmth of Gu Lizhou’s breathing, his fingertips, his entire body. The heat from their skin-to-skin contact spread a sticky, oppressive warmth.

“Mmph! Mmph!” (Let me go!)

“Don’t say anything.”

Zhong Weishi nodded, following Gu Lizhou’s gaze which happened to be the couch in the living room of 303.

There were no lights on in the house.

The faint glow of the TV screen flickered intermittently, outlining two indistinct human figures on the couch. That long-lost couple, reunited at last, was currently engaged in a not suitable for children, overly romantic French-style pastime.

Zhong Weishi let out an ‘ugh’ and muttered in distaste. “You’re such a pervert, spying on other people kissing.”

Gu Lizhou lowered his voice as well. “You think I want to? I just didn’t feel like barging in and interrupting them.”

Zhong Weishi didn’t buy his excuse, “then you’re still watching.”

“I’m waiting for a moment when walking in wouldn’t be awkward,” Gu Lizhou explained seriously. “I thought they’d finish quickly, but I didn’t expect it to be so long-lasting.”

The two of them crouched side by side by the windowsill, resembling a pair of mischievous cats about to steal fish, with only their eyes peeking out.

Cao Zhiheng, with one arm around his girlfriend’s neck, seemed utterly lost in the moment. The more he kissed, the more fervent it became, showing no signs of stopping.

Zhong Weishi’s legs were starting to go numb from squatting. He muttered in a small voice, “I just don’t get it. Why do couples like eating each other’s spit so much? They’ve been at it forever—aren’t their mouths sore yet?”

“..” Gu Lizhou was speechless. Such a romantic act, yet Zhong Weishi somehow managed to make it sound completely unappealing.

As Cao Zhiheng kissed, pinned his girlfriend onto the couch and shifted his kisses to her neck. Zhong Weishi’s eyes widened as if he’d just discovered a new world. He stared intently, practically leaning forward to get a closer look, all while excitedly making wow wow wow noises.

Gu Lizhou hurriedly covered his eyes and mouth, “Go, go, go, children shouldn’t be watching this.”

Zhong Weishi pried Gu Lizhou’s hands off. “I’m an adult!”

“Even if you’re an adult, you still can’t watch.” Gu Lizhou tried to yank him away but failed. He resorted to hooking both arms under Zhong Weishi’s armpits like he was hauling a corpse and dragged him back to 301.

“Why are you like this?” Zhong Weishi planted his hands on his hips. “So it’s okay for the officials to enjoy the show, but the commoners can’t watch?”

“Adult matters. What’s a little brat like you doing getting involved?” Gu Lizhou spread his hands, and said “Where are those imported underwear you were bragging about? Let me take a look.”

Zhong Weishi tossed the bag at him. “A thousand for a pair.”

“Didn’t you say you’d give them to me?”

“That was back when we were friendly neighbors. Now it’s debtor and creditor—totally different dynamic,” Zhong Weishi said.

“Fine, I’ll rent one. Based on a lifespan of three years per pair, it’s a note a day.” Gu Lizhou fished a five-yuan note out of his pocket and slapped it onto the table with a flourish. “Five yuan, keep the change.”

Zhong Weishi laughed so hard his stomach hurt. “Who the hell wears one pair of underwear for three years? Why don’t you calculate based on 30 years? Uncle Cao wasn’t wrong about you—you really are an old beast.”

Gu Lizhou retaliated by chucking a pillow at his forehead. “You little beast!”

A few minutes later, Gu Lizhou heard Zhong Weishi shout from the room, “Do you want to borrow my clothes?”

“Does it cost money?” Gu Lizhou asked. A laugh came from inside.

“You’re allowed to rent it for a day!”

Gu Lizhou laughed and went inside.

Chapter 22 – Do you feel scared sleeping alone at night?

Gu Lizhou thought that if he had to use something from this world to describe Zhong Weishi, it would be the wind.

Breeze, gust, whirlwind, storm, tornado…

All sorts of things, changing rapidly.

One moment, he’d be hanging his head in despair; the next, he’d be grinning and cursing up a storm.

“When I was a kid, I wasn’t ugly. I was just skinny. And I liked to play around, so I was several shades darker than other kids,” Zhong Weishi said while logging into his QQ space.

Gu Lizhou sat down with a cushion in his arms.

The album was filled with dozens of photos, almost all taken by a phone camera aimed at printed photos, making the images rather blurry.

In the first photo, two rows of children stood in the center, flanked by two elderly women with gray hair and warm smiles, looking vibrant. There were also two younger caregivers each holding a child.

In the background was a huge acacia tree.

But on closer inspection, one would notice that several of the children had visible physical defects.

One girl was particularly beautiful, but sadly had only one eye. The boy on the far right was grinning brightly, but he was missing an arm…

“That’s me,” Zhong Weishi pointed to one of the children being held.

Gu Lizhou gave a candid evaluation, “En, you do look kinda ugly.”

“I wasn’t even grown up then!” Zhong Weishi shot him a glare.

Gu Lizhou: “I was handsome even before I grew up.”

Zhong Weishi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. No pictures, no proof.”

“So young, yet already talking trash.”

“No pictures, no proof my ass.”

“…”

The next few photos showed Zhong Weishi growing up. His looks had improved quite a bit, but he was still far too skinny, with arms as thin as twigs, looking like a frail, sickly child.

Who would have thought that twenty years later, he’d be as lively as a firecracker?

“Every time a child was brought into the orphanage or adopted, the director would take a group photo to commemorate it. She has several albums of them,” Zhong Weishi said.

Ai? Isn’t this Qiangzi?” Gu Lizhou zoomed in on the photo, pointing to a boy with a buzz cut.

“Yeah, you can actually recognize him,” Zhong Weishi said. “I remember he was sent in when he was about three or four. He only has three toes on his right foot.”

“That’s so ah…” Gu Lizhou furrowed his brows.

Seeing these photos made his heart feel as if it were weighed down by a heavy stone, leaving him deeply uncomfortable.

“But he’s luckier than me,” Zhong Weishi said. “His real mom got him back.”

““Oh?” Gu Lizhou was surprised. “Did she regret it?”

“No,” Zhong Weishi shook his head. “It’s said that his Dad racked up a lot of debt from gambling and had a violent streak. His Mom couldn’t support him, so she had no choice but to send him to the orphanage. Later, his Dad went to prison, and his Mom took him back. A few years ago, he came to Yucheng with me.”

Gu Lizhou found it hard to reconcile such a complicated family background with the Huangfu Qiang he knew.

Likewise, it was hard to imagine that the cheerful and carefree Zhong Weishi had gone through so much.

Perhaps that’s exactly why they turned out like wild grass—just a little rain and a bit of sunshine were enough to nourish their growth.

They were easily content and easily found happiness.

“Do you recognize which one is me?” Zhong Weishi asked.

“This one.” Gu Lizhou pointed to a boy holding a bear.

Zhong Weishi: “Awesome, you can even recognize this.”

Gu Lizhou: “It’s just way too ugly.”

Zhong Weishi let out a “fvck” and slapped his thigh. “No more looking!”

Laughing, Gu Lizhou grabbed his wrist and tugged him closer. “Don’t ah, let me see some more. I’m starting to think you just kept getting more handsome.”

“I think so too.” Zhong Weishi grinned, rubbing his nose as he handed over the phone. “But too bad I wasn’t lucky. If I’d been good-looking as a kid, maybe someone would’ve picked me up long ago. Who knows, I might’ve been forced to inherit a billion-dollar family business by now.”

“You think beautifully.” Gu Lizhou flipped through several more pages, noticing that the further he went, the fewer people appeared in the photos. By then, only the two elderly women were left taking care of the children.

In the last photo, an elderly woman with a weathered face sat in a wheelchair, her smile looking a bit weary.

Zhong Weishi pointed at the grandmother in the wheelchair. “This is the director of our Kaixin Orphanage. She was nearly 90 at the time and needed care herself.”

These photos seemed to unlock memories of his childhood, with each one telling a story.

For the first time, Gu Lizhou listened to Zhong Weishi ramble on about his childhood—there were moments of bitterness and sweetness, hardships and joys.

“Maybe not being adopted was your stroke of luck. It left your life open to endless possibilities,” Gu Lizhou said, exiting the app and handing the phone back.

Ai—” Zhong Weishi slumped back on the couch. “That’s easy to say, but I really think I’m just plain unlucky. I never seem to land any serious roles.”

“You really want to be famous that much?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“Well, duh. What actor doesn’t want to be famous?” Zhong Weishi said, staring at the ceiling.

Gu Lizhou had expected him to give a shallow yet honest answer—like wanting to make money.

But this time, the answer was more unexpected.

“I want to know if they’ll regret throwing me away.”

Gu Lizhou was silent for a couple of seconds before realizing that the “they” Zhong Weishi referred to must have been his biological parents, not those who chose not to adopt him.

The fan blew the strands of hair on Zhong Weishi’s forehead, making them flutter slightly.

Gu Lizhou recalled an article he’d read on psychology that emphasized how closely one’s mental health is tied to childhood experiences.

Children who are abandoned often struggle to develop a sense of security. That deep-seated fear can alter their personality in various ways.

Turning grief and indignation into strength can be a good thing, but taken too far, it might do more harm than good.

Gu Lizhou lifted his hand and patted Zhong Weishi’s shoulder. “People live for themselves.”

Zhong Weishi paused, turning to look at him.

In fact, he had shared this reason for wanting to become famous with many friends, and everyone would always respond, “You’ve got to make big money, achieve great success, get angry at them and make them regret it.”

Today was the first time someone told him, “People live for themselves”.

Picking at a tear in his jeans, Zhong Weishi’s emotions were complicated. “I really like shooting movies. Even if I never find them, I won’t regret stepping into this industry.”

Gu Lizhou let out an ‘en’. “I can see that.”

Zhong Weishi raised an index finger. “I once set a goal for myself—if I don’t land any decent roles by the time I’m 28, I’ll quit and find a job that can actually support me.”

“Why 28 not 30?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“30 is too old; jobs are harder to find.” The words slipped out of Zhong Weishi’s mouth before he realized the implications, and in a panic, he tried to backpedal. Unfortunately, his tongue couldn’t keep up with his thoughts. “I-I-I… I didn’t mean that you’re old ah! It’s just, just, just… you get what I mean, right? I mean in the acting industry, 30 is considered… no, no, that’s not… ai…”

Gu Lizhou snorted coldly.

“How to say it, men in their 30s have their own kind of charm. Like you—you’re very charming. They say men are in their prime at 40; right now, you’re just a budding flower!”

“Heh.”

“Alright,” Zhong Weishi pouted, “then I’ll adjust my goal to 30 okay!”

“Didn’t you just say men only bloom at forty?”

“…”

The two bantered on this topic for quite a while until Zhong Weishi suddenly remembered the issue of his rent. He hurriedly grabbed his phone to call Qiangzi to borrow money.

Gu Lizhou stopped him, “I’ve already paid it all for you.”

Zhong Weishi was so shocked he nearly jumped off the couch. “So good? Aren’t you afraid I’ll suddenly run away?”

“If you run away, then you run away,” Gu Lizhou shrugged. “Consider it money well spent to see a person’s true character.”

Hearing this, Zhong Weishi felt a bit uncomfortable. “I won’t run. At least not until I’ve paid off what I owe.”

Gu Lizhou smirked. “Two months’ rent plus utilities comes to a total of 4,506. I’ll cut you some slack and round it down—just pay me back 4,500.”

Zhong Weishi snapped his fingers, then bent over and dragged out a metal box from under the bed. It was filled to the brim with one-yuan and fifty-cent coins, heavy as a rock.

“There should be five hundred in here. Take it back, count it, and we’ll settle up if it’s off.” He then pulled out four pairs of underwear from a bag. “These are imported. Since we’re buddies, I’ll cut you a deal—just a thousand each.”

Gu Lizhou gritted his teeth, “Are you even human?”

Zhong Weishi grinned, baring his teeth. “Aren’t you supposed to be loaded?”

Around ten, Cao Zhiheng sent a message: “Where are you?”

[Useless Yet Awake]: 301. Did your girlfriend leave?

[Cao Zhiheng]: No, my girlfriend’s staying over tonight, so I’m planning to sleep in your room later.

[Useless Yet Awake]: She’s already staying over, and you’re still sleeping in separate rooms? Are you even capable ah?

[Cao Zhiheng]: What do you know! We’re not married yet, so how can we do that? I have to maintain my image as the traditional good guy in her eyes. Besides, dating should have a sense of ceremony. I plan to give her my most precious chromosomes on our wedding night.

“…”

Gu Lizhou was quite shocked at Cao Zhiheng’s mindset.

The person was already at your place, and you’re thinking about sleeping in separate rooms?!

How the hell did this dog man get a girlfriend?

[Cao Zhiheng]: No point being jealous! If you don’t mind my snoring, you can bunk with me. If you do mind, try negotiating with the kid and squeeze in with him.

While Zhong Weishi was busy counting coins beside him, Gu Lizhou rubbed his temples, unsure how to respond.

Cao Zhiheng’s snoring was like a tractor revving up. Even with a wall in between, it was audible. Sharing a bed would mean a sleepless night.

As for this one next to him…

“288,290,292,294……”

“288, 290, 292, 294…”

“That…”

En? 296, 298…”

Gu Lizhou watched him for a moment, then hesitated before asking, “Do you feel scared sleeping alone at night?”

En?” Zhong Weishi turned to look at him. “Scared of what?—Ah ya, fvck! Where was I in the count?!”

Gu Lizhou hooked an arm around Zhong Weishi’s shoulder, using his other hand to casually push aside the pile of coins. Glancing around the room with an expression of exaggerated fear, he lowered his voice and asked cautiously, “Don’t you know this place used to be haunted?”

“What?!” Zhong Weishi’s fingers froze, his eyes widening in shock.

“So the landlord didn’t tell you about it ah…” Gu Lizhou said with a sinister grin, his voice dripping with mischief.

Chapter 21 – Surprisingly Comfortable

Gu Lizhou knocked on the door of 301 for quite a while, but no one answered. Instead, a middle-aged woman with dyed hair came up the hallway, holding a small folding stool in her hand.

“You’re also looking for Zhong Weishi ah?” The woman curiously sized him up.

“Ah.” Gu Lizhou nodded.

“He owes you money ah?” The woman asked.

Gu Lizhou was taken aback, “No ah, did he owe you money?”

“Yes ah, he hasn’t paid last month’s rent yet. Always delaying, delaying, and now I can’t even reach him by phone. Today, I’m determined to catch him,” the woman said.

When the old house was sold years ago, it was handled by Gu Lizhou’s father. Gu Lizhou didn’t know about it. It wasn’t until after his college entrance exams that he found out the old house was gone—he couldn’t go back.

“Are you the landlord here ah?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“No, the house belongs to my cousin. She’s gone abroad, so I’m here to collect the rent for her,” The woman couldn’t stop once she started talking. “The little kid is actually quite straightforward. He’s been living here for several years, but he’s too playful, always hanging out with a bunch of odd people. I suspect he’s deliberately avoiding me… If he doesn’t show up today, I’m going to call someone to change the lock.”

Gu Lizhou watched her make a call.

It was indeed off.

The woman started nagging again, “He’s also unwilling to find a proper job, always dreaming about becoming an actor. I mean, with the thousands of people in the Film and Television City, what are the chances that kind of luck will fall on him? It’s all about having connections ya. Kids just don’t understand these things…”

To Gu Lizhou, her chatter sounded like a buzzing bee, going on and on. It was getting hard to listen to, so he interrupted, “How much does he owe you ah? I’ll cover it for now.”

The woman was first delighted, then curiously asked, “Who are you to him ya?”

“Friend,” Gu Lizhou replied. “Auntie, wait here for me. I’ll go get my phone and transfer the money to you, alright?”

“Sure, sure, sure,” The woman smiled and nodded repeatedly.

After Gu Lizhou paid, he sat on the balcony, lost in thought.

Zhong Weishi would perform some kind of talent for them almost every night, so Cao Zhiheng had left a long bench in the hallway, too lazy to move it back inside.

The old lady who sold takoyaki would always greet him with a smile when she saw him, “Waiting for the moon again ah?”

“Ah.” Gu Lizhou lit a cigarette.

If it were anyone else, they might think he was sick in the head, but the old lady would cheerfully say, “The weather’s great today. The moon will definitely be bright.”

Tonight’s moon was indeed very bright.

In City B, the smog was severe, and even on clear days, it was rare to see such a clear moon. But Yucheng was different.

The night sky twinkled with stars, as plentiful as shells on a beach, so abundant that one could step on them with every other step.

His thoughts drifted away.

Around nine o’clock, most of the lights in the apartment building had gone out.

When Zhong Weishi trudged up the stairs, exhausted, he was startled by a tall figure standing still at the door of 301.

“You finally know to come back, huh?”

When the other party spoke, Zhong Weishi breathed a sigh of relief, “It’s you ah. You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing standing here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?!”

As Zhong Weishi fumbled for his keys to open the door, Gu Lizhou stepped inside right behind him.

“Do you need something?” Zhong Weishi dropped his backpack and collapsed onto the sofa.

Gu Lizhou said, “It’s not me who needs something; it’s your landlord. She said you’re two months behind on rent.”

“Oh…” Zhong Weishi rubbed his sore eyes and patted his calves. “I’m out of money.”

“Out of money again?” Gu Lizhou put one hand on his waist, pointing at him. “What about the money you make going out early and coming back late every day?”

“I gave it all to my grandma,” Zhong Weishi said.

Gu Lizhou frowned, “Didn’t you say you’re an orphan?! Where did this grandma come from?”

“She’s the grandma from the orphanage who used to take care of me. Her granddaughter called me this afternoon, saying she had a stroke and passed out,” Zhong Weishi explained.

Gu Lizhou froze.

Decades ago, a privately-run orphanage opened in the town of City C. It took in many local children who were born with disabilities or were homeless, and it also helped many find new homes.

Grandma Zhao was originally a rural teacher. After retiring, she worked at the orphanage, helping Director Li care for the children.

Eventually, due to Director Li’s age and lack of energy to raise funds from different places, the orphanage couldn’t continue operating and faced closure.

Zhong Weishi happened to be part of the last batch of children there. He was dark-skinned and scrawny as a child, looking like a sickly little monkey, so no one adopted him, even into his teens.

The older he got, the less people wanted to adopt him, fearing they wouldn’t bond properly.

Not long after the orphanage closed, the director passed away. At that time, only Zhong Weishi and a group of children with disabilities were left in the orphanage. Those children were gradually sent to the city’s orphanage, but Zhong Weishi cried and caused a fuss, refusing to leave, even sneaking out in the middle of the night by climbing over the wall.

After Grandma Zhao called the police and found him, she kept him with her.

Most of the children from the orphanage, as long as they didn’t have mental disabilities, were assigned simple jobs at local small units once they reached adulthood. Those who couldn’t work were supported by the government, but their living conditions were often bleak.

Zhong Weishi was considered one of the lucky ones, as Grandma Zhao had forced him to attend high school for two years.

“She used to tease me back then, saying, ‘You’re so ugly. If you don’t study hard and earn money, no girl will want to be with you.’” Zhong Weishi was picking at a small hole in his pants, making it bigger and bigger as he spoke.

A helpless life, a helpless fate. There were always people living difficult lives in unexpected ways, in unexpected places.

“Why didn’t you keep studying then?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“We were too poor at that time,” Zhong Weishi replied. “Grandma was already old and still had to take odd jobs to make money. She also had a granddaughter who needed to go to school, so I quit and went out to work.”

“I see ah…” Gu Lizhou pursed his lips, feeling it was a pity.

Zhong Weishi was in his second year of high school about six years ago. At that time, Gu Lizhou was busy serializing his last piece <Souls of the Departed> for Star Century.

If he had known earlier that such a place and such people existed, maybe he could have done something to help.

“Grandma and the director were really, really good people, but it’s a shame I haven’t made anything of myself. Grandma must be so disappointed in me.” Zhong Weishi hung his head and sighed. “If I had lots of money, she wouldn’t have to live so hard… and maybe her body wouldn’t have worn out from all the work.”

Gu Lizhou suddenly realized that when people are unhappy, even their hair strands are listless and have lost their former brightness.

The living room light flickered due to a faulty connection, and Zhong Weishi’s voice gradually weakened. There were a few soft sniffling sounds, like he was trying hard to hold back his emotions.

Gu Lizhou guessed that his eyes must be very red now.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling, or what he wanted to do, but by the time he snapped back to reality, his hand was already resting on Zhong Weishi’s head.

This was the first time he had ever touched someone else’s hair, and the texture reminded him of petting a large dog.

Soft… and oddly comforting.

“It’s not your fault,” Gu Lizhou’s voice was soft and gentle. “You still remember Grandma’s kindness, and you went to the hospital to see her as soon as you could. I’m sure that made her very happy.”

Zhong Weishi froze for a moment, and a tear slipped from his eye, landing on his thigh. “Really?”

“Of course.” Gu Lizhou’s tone lifted at the end, making his answer sound particularly sincere.

Zhong Weishi sniffled.

Maybe it was because the other party was older, or maybe because his actions and words were so gentle, but he gave off a sense of reliability, and his words felt reasonable.

That’s right, grandma must be happy.

Before Zhong Weishi had a chance to fully recover from his sadness, the reliable one suddenly said, “Just how ugly were you as a kid ah? Do you have a photo I can see?”

“fvck!” Zhong Weishi angrily threw a pillow at him. “Is that the point here?!”

As Gu Lizhou caught the pillow, he saw that Zhong Weishi was smiling.

Chapter 20 – Expert Excavator Operator

Gu Lizhou didn’t have ordinary hopes about finding a new job, because he didn’t know when he would leave Yucheng. If he liked it, he’d stay, and if not, he’d just move somewhere else for a while.

That’s how he’s been living for the past few years.

Zhong Weishi, on the other hand, seemed to think he had become delusional from being a gigolo. He went to great lengths to search for new socialist pathways for him, even personally registering an account for him on a website and filling out a resume.

The net was cast.

Gu Lizhou was woken up early in the morning by one unfamiliar phone call after another.

“Hello, is this Mr. Gu? I saw the resume you submitted to our company on XX Website. Are you available for an interview this afternoon?”

“What?”

“The resume you submitted to us for the job of Fruit Assembler.”

“…You’ve got the wrong number.”

“Hello, I’m from the ‘Energetic Seniors Health Association ah.’”

“No need.”

Just as Gu Lizhou was about to hang up, the person on the other side hurriedly called out, “Wait, you applied for our Sales and Customer Service position, right? Are you free to come for an interview? This job is simple, really, but it does require some hard work. You can hand out flyers, right?”

“…Sorry, I already found a job.”

The most bewildering call came from a man: “Hey, is this Gu Lizhou? I just saw your resume. Can you drive a forklift?”

“A what?”

“Forklift ah. We’re hiring forklift operators, preferably skilled old drivers. If you’re good at operating an excavator, you should be able to handle a forklift too, right? Do you have a license?”

“…” At this, Gu Lizhou was fully awake.

He vaguely recalled the voice call he’d received just before falling asleep.

“Hey, rich guy, there’s a verification code on your phone. Send it to me. I’m registering an account for you on XX website.”

“I’m helping you find a job ah! What else would I be doing? By the way, what’s your education level ah? What’s your major?”

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just fill in the blanks randomly ah…”

When Gu Lizhou opened his computer and logged in to check the back-end, he was so furious that he saw stars and felt blood rushing from his seven orifices. He fainted on the spot.

Name: Gu Lizhou

Gender: Male

Age: 32

Graduated from: Lanxiang Technical

Special skills: Good-looking, with especially long legs.

Expertise: Expert Excavator Operator

Introduction: I have a lively and cheerful personality, and I’m always willing to help others. Although my work experience is a bit lacking, I can especially endure hardships! I really can endure! Plus, I have great luck—I’ve won countless “win another bottle” prizes since childhood, so I believe my good fortune is contagious. I sincerely ask your esteemed company to give me a chance to contribute to society! I promise to work diligently!

In the Film and Television Studio dozens of kilometers away, Zhong Weishi suddenly sneezed several huge times, almost suffocating.

He thought someone must be thinking about him.

Gu Lizhou gritted his teeth and sent a message to the bear child1Brat, naughty child: When are you coming back?

[Lunatic]: Give me another half an hour. I still have a few new sets to shoot.

There was a photo attached below the message, showing several pairs of underwear in different colors, styles, and patterns laid out on the floor.

[Lunatic]: The boss said I could bring a few pairs. Do you want some? You can pick, and I’ll bring them back for you.

Gu Lizhou’s little morning grumpiness had mostly worn off by now.

Zhong Weishi was truly a fascinating person. He always managed to do something unexpected at the most random times.

Honestly, his first impression of Zhong Weishi wasn’t good.

Back at Qingfeng Garden, the boy’s impulsiveness and recklessness left him feeling confused and speechless, even a little disgusted. But after spending some time together, he realized that Zhong Weishi lived a very simple life.

If you’re his friend, he’ll go all out to help you in any way he can.

Like with this whole job search thing—Zhong Weishi perfectly illustrated the phrase, “The emperor isn’t anxious, but the eunuch is.” Though the process was a bit stupid, the intention was good.

He still vaguely recalled one afternoon when Zhong Weishi sent him several voice messages in a row.

“Hey, did you know? Da Fei is now doing crossdressing live broadcasting, just that kind of, it’s really popular now, dressing up in women’s clothes to sing and dance. I’ll send you the room number. We’re all brothers here, so make sure to drop by, brush some comments, and cheer him on.”

“Ah yes, don’t expose your identity when you go.”

“I’m telling you, Da Fei’s dancing is really energetic. You’ll definitely be blown away by his looks today.”

“Rich guy! Did you hear me ah? This is your chance to show off your rich and powerful charm ah! It’s Da Fei’s first time, we’ve got to give him some applause!”

[Lunatic]: So, what do you think? Any you like? This fabric is really good quality, and the best part is it doesn’t fade!

Wait, so all the underwear he bought before faded?!

Gu Lizhou lazily replied with a voice message: “I want solid colors.”

[Lunatic]: What lip2Lip and solid sounded the same. color? We’ve got black, red, white, gray—all kinds of colors here, but no lip color. Are you asking for dark red? That’s such a sultry color? Doesn’t really match your vibe…

[Useless Yet Awake]: …Solid colors, no patterns.

[Lunatic]: Oh.

The constant barrage of recruitment calls continued. Frustrated, Gu Lizhou simply pulled out his SIM card. As he was contemplating how to deal with that bear child tonight, there was a knock at the door.

He thought it was Cao Zhiheng forgetting his keys, but when he opened the door, it was actually a very pretty girl with chestnut-colored, wavy hair and a faint scent of perfume came to his nose.

The girl didn’t seem surprised to see him, “Gu Lizhou, right? Hello ah.”

Gu Lizhou nodded and took a couple of seconds to process: “Ah, you’re Old Cao’s girlfriend, right?”

“Yes ya! My surname is Meng, Meng Jingshi. I’m not sure if he’s mentioned me before.”

“Oh, I know.” Gu Lizhou quickly invited her in. “He’s mentioned you a few times. I’ve even seen your pictures together in his Moments. It’s just that your hairstyle looks a bit different from the photos and in person, so I didn’t recognize you right away.”

“I just had my hair done yesterday,” Meng Jingshi smiled. “My company is off today, so I came over to see him and cook dinner on the way. I bought some shrimp and steak. How about pasta and steak for dinner?”

Gu Lizhou didn’t want to be the light bulb,3Third wheel so he politely declined: “Nah, you two go ahead. No need to include me.”

“How can that be? Zhiheng specifically told me on the phone that we’d be having dinner together. I bought enough for three people, so you should join us.”

Understanding that Old Cao wanted to show off his girlfriend, Gu Lizhou didn’t refuse further.

Cao Zhiheng had gone out of town to buy materials and said he’d be home a bit late. With Meng Jingshi busy in the kitchen, Gu Lizhou felt somewhat uneasy.

He thought about going to the kitchen to help, but as soon as he stepped in, she kicked him out. Trying to settle into his usual spot on the couch to watch TV made him feel oddly guilty.

Living in someone else’s home and even having their girlfriend make dinner for you…

Gu Lizhou, are you even human!

With a quick flip, he leaped up and dashed into the kitchen. “Let me cook. Should I start by washing the rice?”

“Uh yeah. Have you never cooked before?” Meng Jingshi seemed a bit surprised.

“Ah,” Gu Lizhou stirred the rice a bit with his hand, “I hired a maid at home.”

“I heard from Old Cao that you used to be a big-time writer ah?” Meng Jingshi glanced back at him.

Most people around Gu Lizhou knew he wrote books, but to avoid disrupting his daily life, very few knew his pen name. It had been so long since he’d heard the term “big-time writer” in the real world that he felt a bit embarrassed.

“It was just okay, just scribbling.”

Meng Jingshi smiled and asked, “What’s your pen name? He wouldn’t even tell me, said I should ask you myself.”

Gu Lizhou licked his lips, “It’s not really anything special. Girls probably wouldn’t be too interested in that kind of material.”

“I heard from him that you stopped writing because your health wasn’t too good ah?”

“Yeah, partly because of health, but mostly it was more about my mindset. If you turn a hobby into a career, it feels different. Once something involves money and profits, it’s never pure anymore.” Gu Lizhou glanced at her. “Do you get what I mean?”

“Of course I do,” Meng Jingshi nodded with a smile. “People’s passion always gets worn down gradually, but losing passion doesn’t mean you stop liking it. No matter what industry you’re in, after a few years of doing it, reality will shape you into someone else. But as long as you stay true to yourself, an unpolished jade only becomes a beautiful jade—it never turns back into a stone.”

“You speak like a psychiatrist.” Gu Lizhou laughed.

“Huh? Really? Am I hard to communicate with?”

“Extraordinarily good at communicating.”

Meng Jingshi smiled, revealing two small dimples.

She had heard from Cao Zhiheng before that Gu Lizhou suffered from moderate depression. When she first walked in, she was worried that it might be difficult to communicate with him, but it seemed she had overthought it.

People with depression didn’t appear much different from others and were actually quite easy to talk to.

Meng Jingshi didn’t press further about his writing. Instead, it was Gu Lizhou who started chatting with her about Cao Zhiheng’s embarrassing childhood stories. She couldn’t stop giggling, covering her mouth as the awkwardness between strangers gradually faded.

When Cao Zhiheng arrived home, dinner was just on the table.

“You’re cutting it pretty close ah you?” Gu Lizhou brought out a fruit salad from the kitchen.

“Yo,” Cao Zhiheng’s first glance upon entering landed on the plate of fruit, “So ugly. Must’ve been cut by you, right?”

“I cut it.” A faint voice drifted out from the kitchen.

Cao Zhiheng immediately raised his voice, “I was just saying how artistic it is! These are little rabbit shapes? Very abstract—Mm, it tastes so sweet!”

Men in love are scary.

Gu Lizhou threw down, “Shameless.”

However, what he didn’t expect was that even more shamelessness was yet to come.

At first, dinner was normal. It was a square table, with Cao Zhiheng and Meng Jingshi sitting across from each other, while Gu Lizhou sat diagonally.

As he ate, he suddenly felt a gust of wind at his feet.

Without making a fuss, he tossed a bone onto the floor and bent down to pick it up, only to see four legs tangled together.

After being discovered by him, the two of them didn’t bother hiding it anymore. They exchanged drinks and fed each other like two sweethearts straight out of a pure love drama.

Cao Zhiheng’s mouth seemed like it had been soaked in honey. It was as if he wasn’t the same guy who normally talked about pee and shit.

No, it was as if it wasn’t a person!

“How can you eat so little—You’re not fat at all, really, not even a bit. If you were even the slightest bit chubbier, I could love you just a little bit more.”

“Leave it! If you do everything, then what am I here for?”

“When you’re around, even the watermelon tastes sweeter.”

Gu Lizhou had seen plenty of wild things in his life, but scenes like this were truly a first for him. Sitting at the dinner table, he was nauseated, rolling his eyes as goosebumps covered his arms.

If you were to ask him what he regretted more than that time he stayed to watch square dancing with Zhong Weishi and his group, it would be staying behind as a light bulb tonight.

He vaguely remembered back in their freshman year, when Cao Zhiheng once stood at the edge of a cliff at a tourist spot, shouting, “What’s so great about those stupid women? I’ll stay single forever!”

But now that he was in a relationship, his flirting was next level: “Jing, your lip color is so pretty today. Can I have a taste?”

Meng Jing Shi smiled bashfully.

Gu Lizhou dry-heaved and got up, heading for the door. “Forgive me, I need to step out and throw up for a while.”

Cao Zhiheng called out, “It’s late, where are you going ah? You’re not bothering us by staying.”

But you guys are affecting me ah!

Gu Lizhou hissed inwardly.

Instead of staying here and chewing on dog food,4Watch the couples be lovey-dovey it would be better to watch Zhong Weishi’s yo-yo performance.

Chapter 19 – “Not the best man… the male prostitute oh.”

That night, Zhong Weishi had a bizarre dream.

In the dream, Gu Lizhou took him to one of those high-end barbershops where you needed a membership card just to get your hair done. The new stylist, Tony1This term was coined by Chinese young people to jokingly refer to hairdressers. It was when someone complained in an online forum that their hairdresser chatted all the time while giving them a haircut just to sell hairdressing products and prepaid membership cards. The netizens also mocked that the hairdressers always give themselves English name where Tony, being the most popular choice., gave him the ugliest bowl cut imaginable, complete with bangs that revealed his eyebrows, making it look like he was wearing a safety helmet on his forehead.

When the hair at the back of his head was lifted, a rainbow dye job was revealed underneath.

It was gorgeous, enchanting, and expensive—but completely unnatural for a normal person.

Behind him, Gu Lizhou exclaimed a “wow” and clapped his hands. “It looks great, looks great, it really suits you.”

Zhong Weishi was on the verge of tears, but he only had two small coins left in his pocket, nowhere near enough to pay for the haircut.

Next, Gu Lizhou took him to a boutique and bought him a designer suit worth several thousand yuan without batting an eye.

The two of them then sat in a luxury car together.

Zhong Weishi was confused. “Are you asking me to be your best man?”

Gu Lizhou smiled mysteriously, gently caressing the back of his head. His movements were soft.

Zhong Weishi caught a faint whiff of tobacco.

“Not the best man… the male prostitute oh.”

Zhong Weishi suddenly woke up!

The first thing he did after waking up was check his hair. Thank goodness, thank goodness, it was still intact.

He let out a couple of deep breaths, and his heart rate slowly returned to normal.

The air conditioning in the room had a mediocre cooling effect, and the nightmare had left his forehead sweating profusely.

As he got up to brush his teeth and wash his face, he seriously started analyzing this strange dream.

It was probably because, deep down, Zhong Weishi still thought of Gu Lizhou as a kept man—a gigolo, perhaps?

Was he?

Was he not?

Other than a rich second-generation or a gigolo, he really couldn’t think of any profession where someone could laze around all day without working and still live so carefree and comfortably.

After rinsing his mouth, Zhong Weishi opened the window and shouted, “Aunt Song! One jianbing, please!”

Auntie Song looked up and responded, “Got it~”

Just as Zhong Weishi pulled his head back in, a head popped out of the back window of Room 303.

“You’re making a lot of noise.” Gu Lizhou’s tone was unfriendly, laced with a strong dose of morning grumpiness.

Startled, Zhong Weishi stuck his head halfway out the window to face him. He felt a bit embarrassed, especially after recalling last night’s dream.

“The early bird gets the worm.”

“What about the early worm?”

“Yawn, the lazy person’s excuse.”

The windows in Zhong Weishi’s bedroom hadn’t been cleaned in ages, and the outer layer was covered in dusty grime, so he couldn’t clearly see Gu Lizhou’s expression. But he could see him stretch lazily, yawning with both hands covering his cheeks.

Zhong Weishi thought of how, every time Qiangzi yawned, he would open his mouth wide like a roaring beast. Sitting across from him, one could even see his trembling little tongue—a complete lack of decorum. But Gu Lizhou was different.

Even his yawns were elegant.

It’s a pity he’s a gigolo.

Wait, what’s a pity about a gigolo? Isn’t being a gigolo a profession in itself? Looking attractive and being seductive—that’s a unique skill, right?

Ah, ah, ah…

No!

A gigolo is basically the embodiment of a greedy, lustful, lazy, and degenerate man!

Zhong Weishi felt like the two little figures in his head were about to start fighting. Just as he was about to close the window and head out, that degenerate man on the opposite side said something that nearly made him stumble.

“Do you have a decent job there to introduce me to one?”

“Ha?”

The corners of Zhong Weishi’s lips twitched, and a thought instantly popped into his head: Did this guy got dumped by a rich woman?

Just as office workers spend every day wondering what to eat for their three meals, Gu Lizhou’s daily routine was about finding ways to add some amusement to his otherwise dull life.

Recalling how he’d once told Gu Lizhou at the police station, “Oh, so you’re unemployed. You should’ve just told me earlier—I could’ve shared a job with you,” he casually asked the question.

He thought if something came up, great; if not, then forget it.

But to his surprise, Zhong Weishi became unusually enthusiastic about Gu Lizhou’s job search, almost like an old father researching college applications for his son.

His excitement was overflowing.

“You’ve come to the right person if you’re looking for a job.” Zhong Weishi dragged a chair over in front of Gu Lizhou, putting on the look of a seasoned guide. “Do you have any special skills?”

Gu Lizhou stretched out a leg.

Straight and long.

“…” Zhong Weishi pursed his lips, resisting the urge to curse. But in order to help this lost lamb find a new direction in life, he held back his temper and smiled kindly. “I’m serious. What kind of work experience have you had before ah?”

Gu Lizhou hadn’t expected him to ask that and, fearing he’d dig further, hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “No.”

Zhong Weishi knew from Gu Lizhou’s moment of hesitation that it had to be an unspeakable and disgraceful job.

Good, it’s nice to see a grown man knowing shame.

He patted Gu Lizhou on the shoulder. “Then, congratulations on deciding to turn over a new leaf. You’re still welcome in the harmonious society.”

The more Gu Lizhou listened, the more confused he became, his eyes narrowing into slits.

Zhong Weishi: “Have you thought about what kind of work you want to do?”

Gu Lizhou: “Whatever.”

From the moment he signed with the Xinghe Century website, he hadn’t considered doing anything in his life besides creating. He hadn’t thought about loving anything else either. This “whatever” sounded casual and indifferent, but underneath it lay deep helplessness and pain.

Of course, Zhong Weishi couldn’t sense his state of mind and only saw him as the typical example of someone with no ambition, just going through the motions.

Zhong Weishi pulled up a WeChat group dedicated to job postings, and the first message made his eyes brighten.. “Come, how about you look at this? I think it’s perfect for you.”

Hearing this, Gu Lizhou leaned in with anticipation.

The job was for a male technician at Cloud Paradise. Requirements: handsome and charismatic, suave and elegant. Local dialect and Mandarin fluency are a preferred. Exceptionally good-looking candidates will be hired with special consideration. No experience necessary; training provided. Room and board included.

Salary: 5,000-10,000, no upper limit.

The slap that Gu Lizhou threw out was crisp and loud.

Zhong Weishi, rubbing the bump on his head with a pained expression, said, “Didn’t you say whatever? This job pays so well. What’s wrong with it? Besides, look at the requirements; it’s practically tailor-made for you!”

Gu Lizhou raised his arm again, and this time Zhong Weishi dodged quickly. “I-I-I-I’ll look for another one! I’ll keep looking!”

Gu Lizhou barely managed to suppress his fury.

Did he look so powerless?!

At least back in the day, he was the king of the Xinghe Century website, dominating the top of the charts for years!

He had an SSS-level diamond badge, and he was the only one on the entire site with it! He broke records in clicks, favorites, and sales—anything with a number, he was first!

The kind of first that is far ahead!

“Then how about this one?” Zhong Weishi, still excited, handed him another job listing.

Security patrol for factory grounds. Requirements: No gender preference, aged 30-45, hardworking, able to endure hardships, follow instructions, no stuttering, no infectious diseases, and a passion for security work.

Salary: 2,500-3,200, with a full attendance bonus of 100, meal subsidy of 8 yuan per meal, and overtime pay at 1.5 times.

Food and accommodation included: 4-6 person dorm with air conditioning, water heater…

Gu Lizhou: “…”

This time, Zhong Weishi dodged the moment Gu Lizhou raised his arm. “What are you doing ah! What are you doing ah! What’s wrong with this one now ah! I think you meet all the requirements ah! It’s an easy job most of the time, but in critical moments, you can show off your manly prowess. If I were old enough, I’d do it too! And did you see the meal subsidy!”

Gu Lizhou mentally repeated “killing is illegal” several times, took a deep breath, and pointed to his hair. “This hairstyle cost me 3,600. Do you think this salary is enough to even get stuck between my teeth?”

Zhong Weishi, stiff-necked, lectured him: “You need to be practical, understand? You’ve got no work experience and no real skills, yet you still want a high-paying, prestigious job. Where do you think you’ll find that ah! If I could, I’d have already taken it! It wouldn’t be your turn!”

Gu Lizhou simply didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “At least show me a job that requires some skill. This is work an old man walking his bird in the park could do. Isn’t it a waste of talent to have me do it?”

Zhong Weishi: “You’ve already wasted 32 years anyway.”

Gu Lizhou: “…”

“You want a job with some skill, right?” Zhong Weishi pointed backward with his hand. “You know that ‘Chengmei Cross Stitch’ downstairs? They’re always hiring skilled cross-stitch workers. No age limit, and the more you work, the more you earn. It’s all based on skill. One piece can get you a few hundred in commission. I noticed you’ve got long, slender fingers; you must have talent for this.”

Gu Lizhou clenched his fists so hard his bones cracked.

Zhong Weishi sighed helplessly, “Why are you so difficult? This doesn’t work, that doesn’t work. Why don’t you just pretend to be deaf and mute and go beg on the street! I’ll ask around the film crew and borrow a beggar’s outfit for you.”

Gu Lizhou fell silent, realizing that letting a retard plan his life had been a catastrophically wrong decision.

Zhong Weishi thought Gu Lizhou was seriously considering the suggestion and tilted his head at him. “You’re not actually taking this seriously, are you? Have you forgotten what Old Li told us? Have you forgotten the oath you swore at the police station? From now on, be a decent person. Do you still remember the Eight Virtues and Eight Shames? Be proud of hard work and ashamed of laziness and bad labor! Brother, don’t lose yourself at the crossroads of life ah—”

Zhong Weishi racked his brain to educate.

Gu Lizhou rested his hand on his forehead and weakly waved him off. “Enough, just leave me alone.”

Zhong Weishi took a bite of his now-cold jianbing guozi and gently urged, “I’m not trying to discourage you ah, but when you’re just starting to look for a job, don’t set your expectations too high. As long as you can earn a living, that’s enough. Just look at me, I’m doing just fine. In life, the most important thing is to be happy. Happy every day, you know?”

At the mention of the word “happy,” Gu Lizhou slumped over the table, his eyelids drooping like a depressed cat.

He really wished he could experience that kind of retarded happiness, but who let him have a brain that just wouldn’t stop?

Zhong Weishi swallowed the rest of the jianbing and was about to leave, but curiosity got the better of him and he leaned closer. However, after thinking about it, he realized that invading someone else’s privacy probably wasn’t right, so he stood up again.

Without lifting his eyelids, Gu Lizhou muttered, “Spit it out.”

This is what you asked me to do ah!

Zhong Weishi sat back down, nudging his shoulder. “What did you… do before ya? It seems like you made a lot of money.”

Gu Lizhou knew he was trying to fish for a part-time job. “You wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Zhong Weishi stiffened his neck. “Why can you do it and I can’t?! How do you know I can’t?”

Without hesitation, Gu Lizhou replied, “Your factory settings didn’t come with a brain.”

Zhong Weishi was so furious he seethed with anger, and blurting out, “Oh, so you’ve got a brain? If you’re so smart, how come you can’t even find a job?”

Gu Lizhou gave him a sideways glance. “Who told you I couldn’t find a job? When I was dominating the scene, you were probably still in some corner drinking milk.”

Zhong Weishi threw his head back and laughed out loud.

“Don’t believe me?”

“Tell me about it, then ah.”

Men just couldn’t be provoked.

Gu Lizhou took a deep breath, preparing to modestly but impressively reveal his past achievements.

“Let’s put it this way, I’ll give you a few hints, and you can try to guess.” Gu Lizhou said.

“Alright ah,” Zhong Weishi was intrigued.

“Internet, characters, plot, world-building, fantasy, classic… absolutely epic.”

Zhong Weishi clapped his hands. “So, you were playing online games?!”

“Really close!” Gu Lizhou pointed to himself with pride. “I’m the guy who created that legendary world.”

Zhong Weishi frowned, “Sold computers?”

Can’t communicate at all ah!

Gu Lizhou slumped back onto the table. “Scram ah, I need some time alone.”

“Don’t ah, don’t ah,” Zhong Weishi nudged Gu Lizhou’s shoulder. “You’ve already said this much, just satisfy my curiosity. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Gu Lizhou raised an eyebrow, “You really want to know that much?”

Zhong Weishi opened his mouth slightly and nodded eagerly.

Gu Lizhou ran his fingers through his hair, leaning back. “Actually, I’m someone who had immense popularity online, created countless classics, and once dominated the entire…”

“Wait wait wait,” Zhong Weishi pulled out his cell phone, “I need to take a call.”

“Hey! It’s Zhong Weishi ah!”

Enenen, Mr. Sun ah. Hello, hello, hello, you’re saying!

“Can ah, can ah! To be honest, I’m a hugely popular model in my social circle, creating countless hits, and was just this close to becoming famous. Payment per day works fine.”

“Uh-huh, and you’re giving out free sample underwear after the shoot ah? So good! You’re the most generous boss I’ve ever met, hehe.”

Zhong Weishi happily walked out, leaving behind a lonely figure in the living room.

Gu Lizhou sighed helplessly.

It was true that his legendary story could only be reduced to a topic of conversation after everyone’s tea.

No, it didn’t even get a turn in the conversation.

After all these years, did any of his readers still miss him?

After he stopped writing, Gu Lizhou focused on his treatment—exercising, traveling, sleeping, relaxing, and engaging in social activities. He took part in all sorts of beneficial pastimes, except for reading.

He didn’t even have the courage to log back into the Xinghe Century backstage again.

He felt sorry for those who had loved him.

Forget it! Stop thinking about it! Sleeping is what matters most now.

Gu Lizhou launched himself onto the bed, just about to drift into sleep when his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

It was a message from Zhong Weishi.

[The Head Thing from 301]: I’ve found another great job for you.

[The Head Thing from 301]: High pay, low effort, the only requirement is that you’ve got to be handsome with good genes. Half of the world’s population can’t even apply, which shows how exclusive it is. And the most important part: to complete it, you’ll need real skill! I think it’s absolutely perfect for you. You’re the only one for this!

Gu Lizhou didn’t even want to reply, but couldn’t suppress a tiny bit of curiosity.

[Useless Yet Awake]: ?

Zhong Weishi sent a small advertisement on a roadside utility pole asking for a child.

I, Zhang Miaochun, 30, curvy and charming, my husband is a local businessman, but due to an unfortunate accident, he has lost his ability to have children. To continue the family’s huge business empire, we are seeking a tall, strong, healthy, and handsome man to help me fulfill my dream of becoming a mother… Successful pregnancy will be generously rewarded.

Gu Lizhou blocked him without hesitation, but a moment later, Zhong Weishi sent a friend verification request.

[Weishi]: Hey, hey, hey, it was just a joke! Don’t be mad ah! Be a man and let it go!

[Weishi]: Hello?

[Weishi]: Alright,, I’m sorry! Forgive me!

Gu Lizhou laughed as he added him back and updated the contact note.

[Useless Yet Awake]: You’re annoying as hell.

[Lunatic]: Oh, right. You didn’t finish what you were saying earlier. What is it that you do again?

[Useless Yet Awake]: A rich man who makes money while lying down and doing nothing.

[Lunatic]: …

Gu Lizhou tossed his phone aside.

Inside, he felt extremely comfortable.

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