Day: November 8, 2024

Chapter 85 – Ignored and kissed

Chapter 85 (Extra 8)

 

Jiaheng didn’t say anything, turning his head as if he hadn’t noticed the person behind him. His breathing grew heavier, and even his steps became heavier.

 

He hadn’t expected Yu Wuxia’s cultivation to progress so quickly. It was supposed to take ten years to take human form, but now it had only taken three.

 

Yu Wuxia must have already taken human form days ago, but he had been hiding it, deliberately deceiving him.

 

The person behind him remained silent for a moment, then slowly followed the tiger into the cave.

 

The light inside the cave was dim, as if stained by ink. The tiger lay down on a stone platform, as if sulking, without saying a word.

 

Yu Wuxia, pale-faced, sat opposite the tiger, admitting his mistake.

 

“Master, I didn’t mean to deceive you. I can only return to human form for one moment each day, so I didn’t tell you.”

 

In fact, he was afraid that if he told his master he had already taken human form, his master would abandon him.

 

He didn’t know his master’s current attitude towards him, so he had to be extremely cautious.

 

Jiaheng finally raised his eyes to look at him, his eyelids drooping, his expression hidden by the dense tiger fur on his face. “You still retain your previous memories?”

 

“Yes…” Yu Wuxia didn’t want to admit it, but under Jiaheng’s gaze, he couldn’t help but tell the truth.

 

It seemed he was always like this, unable to hide anything when facing Jiaheng.

 

Even though the person in front of him was no longer the lofty Immortal but just a tiger, his reverence for him remained unchanged.

 

Jiaheng had thought that once the relic cultivated back into human form, it would forget the past and turn into a baby, so he could take good care of it and be honest with Yu Wuxia.

 

But unexpectedly, Yu Wuxia remembered everything.

 

So…he really didn’t know what to say or what could be said.

 

The tiger felt a bit reclusive.

 

The reclusive tiger then put on a cold and aloof demeanor, ignoring Yu Wuxia. After asking this question, he turned his head and lay on the cool stone, lightly dozing.

 

Yu Wuxia opened his mouth but was speechless. He didn’t know what his master’s reaction meant and was too scared to breathe heavily, afraid that his master would find a fault and drive him away.

 

A quarter of an hour later, Yu Wuxia’s body transformed back into a relic with a “bang” and fell to the ground.

 

Jiaheng opened his eyes, looked at the relic on the ground without any emotion, picked it up with his mouth, and placed it on the stone platform.

 

When he turned around, he didn’t notice that the originally gray-brown relic had inexplicably turned red.

 

Even though his master had become a tiger, his mouth was still soft, and his tongue was also soft, seeming very kissable.

 

Yu Wuxia was delighted, and the silver light surrounding him began to flicker with joy.

 

Jiaheng walked out of the cave. The night was the best time for a tiger to hunt, with its senses particularly sharp. He lay in wait near the stream, waiting for prey to come for a drink.

 

Moonlight shone on the stream, reflecting shimmering waves. Occasionally, a fish would leap out of the water, seemingly playing joyfully. Usually, birds and beasts would come to drink by the stream, but tonight, despite lying in wait for a long time, Jiaheng didn’t see any prey. Tonight was indeed unlucky.

 

He returned with an empty stomach, not realizing that his erratic breathing while hiding in the grass had scared off the nearby animals.

 

It seemed that ever since he saw Yu Wuxia, he couldn’t calm down, though he hadn’t noticed it himself.

 

Fortunately, on the way back, he found a wild chicken killed by a previous beast’s hunt. He picked up the uneaten flesh and bones, barely filling his stomach.

 

The tiger returned to the cave but didn’t go in. Instead, he lay at the entrance, with fallen leaves and weeds perfectly covering his body.

 

He closed his eyes and fell asleep in the tranquility.

 

He didn’t know how long he had slept when he was awakened by the sound of grinding medicine. Raising his head, he first saw the wildly growing weeds, with golden sunlight streaming through, slightly dazzling.

 

The tiger lowered his eyelids and looked towards the sound, seeing Yu Wuxia grinding medicine with a stone.

 

Earlier, Yu Wuxia had stopped the bleeding on the tiger’s paw but hadn’t dared to apply medicine, fearing the tiger would discover his identity. But now that the tiger knew, he took the opportunity to gather herbs and grind them into powder to apply to the tiger’s paw.

 

“Master, have you lost all your cultivation?”

 

The tiger didn’t refuse his actions of applying the medicine nor did he respond, looking away into the distance.

 

Yu Wuxia awkwardly lowered his head. Perhaps due to his higher cultivation, he could now maintain his human form for longer periods. After applying the medicine, he asked, “Master, who hurt you?”

 

Jiaheng still didn’t speak. At that moment, a familiar scent of blood wafted through the forest. Jiaheng narrowed his eyes, his agile body leaping forward like the wind.

 

Yu Wuxia quickly followed behind, reaching a dense forest area with his master.

 

They saw a tigress trapped in a hunter’s trap, her back pierced by a blade, lying in the mud unable to move.

 

A tiger was trying to claw at the tigress, but couldn’t reach her, and instead, lost his balance and fell into the trap, his paw and chest pierced by knives, letting out a howl of pain.

 

Jiaheng circled the trap, the tiger inside growling menacingly, thinking Jiaheng was there to take advantage.

 

Jiaheng observed the tigers’ injuries. They were both trapped by knives and couldn’t move. He looked around, trying to find something useful, but there were only dead branches and leaves.

 

Yu Wuxia sensed Jiaheng’s blood on the tiger and glanced at the unhealed wound on its chest, realizing that this tiger had injured Jiaheng.

 

And now, Jiaheng wanted to save them.

 

Without asking, Yu Wuxia found a stone and threw it into the trap. The tiger initially endured the pain, pulling itself from the knives, protecting the tigress behind him, and growling at Yu Wuxia, trying to intimidate him.

 

When Yu Wuxia realized that the stones he had thrown hadn’t harmed the tigers, the male tiger’s roaring gradually subsided. The female tiger, despite the pain, pulled herself off the knife’s tip. Fortunately, the knife hadn’t damaged her vital organs, only piercing the skin on her back.

 

Seeing this, the male tiger immediately began licking the female tiger’s wounds, and she reciprocated by licking his.

 

Yu Wuxia, having stacked the stones sufficiently, watched the tigers licking each other’s wounds and estimated that they could climb out of the trap. He stopped throwing stones.

 

He looked at Jiaheng with a sense of accomplishment, his eyes conveying a desire for praise.

 

However, as usual, Jiaheng didn’t say much. His tail flicked slightly, and without even making eye contact with Yu Wuxia, he turned and left.

 

Yu Wuxia glanced at the tigers still engrossed in their mutual affection and then followed Jiaheng.

 

He felt a bit envious of the tigers, able to groom each other and express their affection, while he couldn’t even get his master to talk to him.

 

Could it really be as Si Lan said, that his master disliked him because of his bad temperament and inability to speak well?

 

Just as Yu Wuxia was deep in thought, his body suddenly underwent a change. He didn’t even have time to call out to his master before transforming into a relic and falling to the ground.

 

The last thing he saw was the ground covered in fallen leaves and Jiaheng’s receding figure.

 

Yu Wuxia felt a pang of sadness. He couldn’t move or speak now. The air around him was filled with the scent of earth, and with the wind blowing leaves everywhere, he feared that if he was covered by leaves, his master might not find him for a while.

 

As he was lamenting his situation, he suddenly sensed a shadow overhead, nearly blocking out the sky. In the next moment, something soft and warm enveloped him, picking him up in its mouth.

 

The breath from the other’s mouth was hot and engulfed his entire being.

 

The relic inexplicably began to glow red.

 

Master… Master had realized he had turned into a relic so quickly.

 

So, his master did care about him, just pretended not to.

 

Realizing this, the “red stains” on the relic floated gently, as if excited blood was coursing through them.

 

The tiger, naturally unaware of the relic’s changes, brought it back and then lay down on the stone platform to rest.

 

The relic focused intently on the tiger, and if his gaze could kill, the tiger would have long been dismantled and devoured.

 

His master, now in the form of a tiger, seemed kind-hearted but had lost his Buddhist compassion and no longer pursued cultivation, appearing content to remain an ordinary tiger.

 

Yu Wuxia hazily thought that if he wanted to be with his master in the future, he would have to take the form of a tiger.

 

He couldn’t help but recall the scene of the two tigers in the trap showing affection, causing the relic to glow even redder.

 

If his master would let him help groom him, he’d be willing to remain a tiger for a lifetime.

 

But now, his master wouldn’t even talk to him…

 

His master was so reserved, never saying much. How could he always guess what his master was thinking?

 

Perhaps he should follow the unreliable advice of that demon lord.

 

With this thought, Yu Wuxia felt much happier, and the relic seemed to move, almost like it was about to spin and leap.

 

Jiaheng, hearing the noise, glanced at the relic. After a moment of silence, he tucked his tail under himself, covering what needed to be covered.

 

Though he couldn’t hear the relic’s laughter, he could sense it was probably laughing mischievously.

 

“…” Yu Wuxia.

 

The next day, after Yu Wuxia transformed back into human form, he didn’t find Jiaheng in the cave, so he hurried out to search for him.

 

Lacking much cultivation, he could only rely on faint traces of aura to track Jiaheng, finding him slowly drinking water by a stream.

 

Yu Wuxia approached, but Jiaheng didn’t react, continuing to drink water.

 

Yu Wuxia thought to himself that his master had probably become so used to being an Immortal that he had lost all vigilance. Even when he got close, there was no reaction.

 

The tiger, after drinking, instinctively shook its fur and turned to see Yu Wuxia washing his face in the stream.

 

The tiger seemed to pause for a moment but still said nothing. As it turned to leave, Yu Wuxia’s voice rang out behind him.

 

“Master, I have many things I want to tell you.”

 

The tiger’s steps faltered slightly before continuing.

 

Undeterred, Yu Wuxia followed, saying, “Master, you said before that you did four things wrong regarding me. But I never thought you did anything wrong, nor did I ever blame you.”

 

The tiger, guessing what Yu Wuxia was about to say but not wanting to hear it, sped up, moving gracefully through the forest.

 

Once the veil was lifted, he knew what awaited them. He wasn’t resistant but wanted to retreat.

 

Or rather, he wanted to maintain the current situation.

 

Isn’t this just fine as it is?

 

Why do people always need to dig deeper?

 

Yu Wuxia, undeterred, chased after him, shamelessly saying, “Master, after turning into a relic, I’ve reflected on many things. I was too extreme back then, trying to change the six realms for my own sake.”

 

“I always thought you didn’t value me, that you hated me. But after reflecting, I understood your dilemma. For someone who tried to destroy your cultivation but claimed to love you, not killing him was already lenient.”

 

“But back then, I was foolish and couldn’t understand your good intentions. I forced you to be with me. If I had been smarter and understood your heart, we wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

 

The running tiger, hearing Yu Wuxia’s nonsense, couldn’t help but growl and glare back at him.

 

What nonsense was he spouting?

 

Why did it sound like they had long been secretly in love?

 

“Master, don’t ignore me. It makes me very sad.”

 

Jiaheng hadn’t expected Yu Wuxia to suddenly “act spoiled,” and almost stumbled.

 

This person was getting crazier.

 

The tiger ran out of the forest and into the fields, with Yu Wuxia chasing close behind.

 

He shouted, “If you won’t respond to me, I’ll kiss you every time you ignore me until you speak.”

 

“…”

 

Hearing this, the tiger slipped and fell into a ditch.

 

In the next instant, Yu Wuxia’s figure pounced, pinning the tiger into the dirt.


T/N: Hey there! There is plenty more where that came from, so stay tuned! And stay healthy! Straighten your posture, so some stretches and drink some water before continuing hehe~

If you like my translations, feel free to donate to my ko-fi!

I really, really appreciate all the support from my readers <3 It goes a long way and motivates me lots!

https://ko-fi.com/hoenibean

 

Also, check out the other series we have on HoH!

If you like cats, check out Revenge of the Garfield

If you like dragons, check out I’m Pregnant with the Hope of the Entire Planet and The Dragon and the ‘Princess’

How about some mystery or showbiz? Check out Morbid Addiction & Perfection

What about the perfect, most non-toxic male lead ever? Laws of Love

How about MC nursing ML back to health? Forced into the Deep

 

Thank you for all your support <3 Leave a comment if you like 🙂 I love reading them!

 

Chapter 16 – "Old Gu, The Kiid From 301 Is Looking For You.”

Zhong Weishi looked at the new T-shirt in his hand, somewhat in disbelief. Turning his head in astonishment, he asked, “This, this, you bought this for me ah?”

Gu Lizhou still had a cigarette hanging from his lips, his expression looking relaxed. “Otherwise?”

Zhong Weishi stared at the small flicker of the cigarette tip, still in a daze, and then heard him say, “Hurry up and change. That shirt you’re wearing is an eyesore.”

Zhong Weishi glanced back and tugged at his shirt. If Gu Lizhou hadn’t reminded him, he would’ve forgotten that it was torn.

A’Wei had just noticed the two slits in Zhong Weishi’s shirt. “Did it get ripped when you got caught on the fence ah?”

“En.” Zhong Weishi subconsciously glanced at the price tag and shuddered in shock.

What the heck ah! A dragon robe!

“It’s too expensive,” Zhong Weishi felt certain he couldn’t afford it, looking up and asking, “Can I still get a refund for this?”

Qiangzi and his gang also swarmed over to check the price tag, shouting a string of expletives: “898!”

“What?” Da Fei leaned over in shock.

Gu Lizhou lowered one arm, flicking the ash off his cigarette, and casually said, “It was bought on sale. Consider it a gift, a welcome present from your new neighbor.”

Qiangzi, grinning cheekily, sidled up. “Ge, look, my shirt’s torn too!”

A bunch of people yelled as they pulled on their clothes, “Ours is torn too!”

Gu Lizhou: “…”

Zhong Weishi elbowed Qiangzi and the others back, “Have some face?”

“Beep beep—” A car horn honked twice from across the street, and someone stuck their head out.

“Old Gu.”

It was Cao Zhiheng.

Gu Lizhou stubbed out the half-burnt cigarette, tilting his head slightly. “I’m heading out.”

Zhong Weishi, still in a daze, muttered an “oh,” but by the time he remembered to say thank you, the other had already gotten into his car and disappeared from sight.

The T-shirt was immediately snatched by A’Wei, passed around like a game of hot potato among the group.

It had a simple design: pure white, with a pair of ash-gray wings extending from the collar to both shoulders.

It was bold and had a lot of personality.

It was completely different from the style of clothes Gu Lizhou usually wore, and it seemed like he had picked this one especially for Zhong Weishi.

“Not gonna lie ah, expensive clothes really do have different materials ah. Feels super nice to the touch.”

“That’s just how it felt ah…”

“Didn’t he say he bought it on sale? It shouldn’t be that expensive.”

Zhong Weishi calculated. Even if the fvcking boss ran away and slashed the prices to rock-bottom, a discount would still mean 90 yuan for one shirt.

90 yuan. That was enough for him to buy a dozen shirts at the small goods market!

And this clearly wasn’t some street stall item. No way this came from a place where the boss bailed and sold stuff with a very large discounted price.

“Hey! Stop touching it with those greasy hands, you’re getting it all over the shirt.” Zhong Weishi snatched the T-shirt back from Qiangzi.

“I wiped my hands before touching it.” Qiangzi clicked his tongue repeatedly. “Look at how precious you love it so dearly. It’s just a piece of rag! Brothers, when I get rich, the first thing I’ll do is buy you two of these 898 ones—one to wear, the other to use as a rag!”

Zhong Weishi laughed. “Retard.”

The car sped along the bustling streets, the window on the passenger side rolled down. Gu Lizhou’s hair was blowing wildly in the wind. Though the sky had darkened, the cityscape outside was still bright and lively.

The words from Old Li at the police station had unintentionally hit a sore spot for him.

Before he knew it, he was already 32 ah.

How many 32 years could one have in life?

It was now June, exactly five years since he had announced his retirement from writing.

Gu Lizhou had loved reading since he was a child, and during his first year of university, he became obsessed with writing.

His highest record was writing non-stop for an entire week without sleep. He could enter the fantasy world he had built at anytime and anywhere, controlling the fates and emotions of his characters.

He was hot-blooded, exhilarated, and sleepless.

At 20, an age where one didn’t know heat from cold, full of youthful vigor, he was like a cactus growing in the desert—thriving wildly even without the nourishment of rain.

He was obsessed with creating, to the point where even his dreams were immersed in his fiction world.

While most students were still daydreaming about when they’d have their first sweet sweet romance, he had already signed with Xinghe Century and become an online writer.

He poured all his energy into his work, constantly acquiring new knowledge in the library, seeking thrills in distant travels, and amassing wave after wave of readers.

He felt like there was never enough time. Even sleeping four or five hours a day gave him a guilty feeling, as if he were wasting time.

He was in a rush to grow, to graduate, to gain more free time.

At 26, he reached his peak.

His fifth full-length novel achieved over a hundred million clicks and more than a million favorites on the site, making him the top writing god at Xinghe Century.

What did these figures mean?

It meant that the combined numbers of those ranked second through tenth didn’t even come close to matching his.

But human energy is ultimately limited, like a burning candle—the brighter the flame, the faster it burns. By the time he realized his body had some problems, it was already too late.

It started with minor ailments such as gastritis, enteritis, cervical spondylitis, mouth sores, eye pain. His weight plummeted.

“You can’t sit for long periods.”

“You can’t be on the computer all the time.”

“Your eyes need rest.”

He knew all of the doctor’s advice, but he couldn’t stop.

Countless people were watching him, waiting for him, and behind him, countless authors were chasing after him.

Who wouldn’t want to stay at the top for just a little longer?

It was like those people constantly challenging and setting the Guinness World Records.

Top-tier creative talents are often madmen.

He continued to relentlessly pour his time and energy into the world of his novels.

If there wasn’t enough time, he cut off his social life. If he didn’t have the energy, he made up for it with more sleep.

But the continuous onset of symptoms began to torment his will.

Herniated discs, shoulder and neck pain, migraines, vitreous floaters—each new condition felt like a warning from above.

One day, he woke up to a persistent buzzing sound in his ears.

The doctor said, “This is noise-induced tinnitus. Have you been suffering from insomnia? Staying up late? Young people shouldn’t always stay up late.”

“You’re too thin. Eat more, exercise more, building up your body is key.”

“If you continue like this, your body will collapse.”

How painful is noise-induced tinnitus?

It feels like cicadas perched by your ear, buzzing incessantly for 24 hours without a break, driving a person to irritability and making it impossible to focus.

And focus is exactly what creativity demands.

It’s not like working on an assembly line, where you can just clock in and out.

It requires constant accumulation, new experiences for stimulation, and bursts of inspiration.

The sudden onset of tinnitus was like a final warning from above—you must rest.

His worsening condition forced him to slow down.

“It’s been almost a month since the break ah. This isn’t fun to follow anymore.”

“Can you at least respect the readers waiting for updates ah? How many times has he taken breaks in these three months?”

“Fame really changes people ah.”

“I think that’s all there is to the writing. Seems like he’s out of ideas.”

People fear fame, just as pigs fear getting fat;1Pigs fear getting fat for slaughter. The meaning for the two phrases is that fame has its price. and it’s the same in every industry.

At that time, Gu Lizhou adjusted his mindset quickly, accepted the criticisms with a smile, and apologized to his readers. Once his tinnitus was treated, he didn’t go on hiatus again.

Until the emergence of that sensational incident that shocked the whole internet happened.

#Famous Author Wanlizhou Molested Female Fans#

#Wanlizhou Hotel Photos#

#Wanlizhou’s Real Name#

#Wanlizhou’s Horrible Character#

#Wanlizhou Plagiarized Enneagram#

#Wanlizhou and Nine-Star Were Schoolmates#

This was a premeditated power struggle.

The “evidence” from the other party was solid, catching him completely off guard.

It was at that moment that Gu Lizhou truly experienced the cruelty of human heart and the coldness of human nature—far more terrifying than anything in the world of his novels.

Fame is like water in the ocean.

Water can carry a boat, but it can also capsize one.

Overnight, he became notorious.

Though his team swiftly responded with public relations, refuting all plagiarism claims, hiring the most renowned legal team to defend him in court, and even getting the female fan to release a video clarifying the situation, they couldn’t stop the spread of rumors.

“After molesting a female fan, Wanlizhou threatened her to delete her post.” “Female fan develops severe depression from harassment.” “Wanlizhou only became famous through hype.” Eye-catching headlines like these appeared one after another.

Just like how people immediately think of Sun Wukong when hearing the name Liuxiaolingtong, many online users now associate the name “Wanlizhou” with the molestation of female fans and plagiarism of works.

Through the screen, it was impossible to distinguish between truth and lies, but curiosity is an innate human trait.

The fans on both sides tore each other apart.

Nine-Star’s work shot up from seventh to second place in terms of clicks.

A person who is obsessed with creating can endure the loneliness of long nights, withstand physical problems, and tolerate harsh reader critiques.

But there would still come a moment when it all became overwhelmingly crushing.

It felt like he had just gone through a sudden tsunami, draining all his passion and energy. As he quietly gazed at the devastated world around him, he suddenly felt… tired, and weary, like he didn’t want to continue anymore.

On June 10th, a 4.8 million-word fantasy novel titled “Wraiths” was marked complete, and the author posted a handwritten long-term leave notice on Weibo.

Eight years of time summarized in 800 words, laid down on a single sheet of paper.

The last sentence read: “Thank you for your trust, thank you for your companionship. Until we meet again, if fate allows.”

The handwriting was bold, graceful, and forceful.

What seemed like a few light words were like an invisible gate that completely severed the past from the present.

A large group of fans cried out.

The story of Wanlizhou was thus sealed away in the memory chest of a generation.

That once proud peak of his career had become the most unspeakable chapter of his past in the end.

If someone were to ask him, after his health improved, would he ever write again?

His answer would be no.

A legend is still a legend; better to leave it unbroken.

But no matter how many years pass, he will always miss the things he once loved and was so passionate about.

If asked, does he have any regrets?

The answer would differ at different stages.

His eyes warmed as the craving for a cigarette crept up again.

Gu Lizhou reached into his pants pocket for his cigarettes.

Cao Zhiheng glanced at him. “Don’t smoke in my car ah. My girlfriend will smell it and accuse me again.”

Gu Lizhou sighed and reluctantly put it back in his pocket.

“Got something on your mind?” Cao Zhiheng easily saw through him.

Gu Lizhou leaned his elbow on the edge of the window, resting his chin on his hand, muttering to himself, “Nothing much, just feels like something’s missing in life.”

“Missing a partner!” Cao Zhiheng blurted out.

Gu Lizhou acted as if he hadn’t heard.

Cao Zhiheng continued, “I’m serious, don’t doubt me. Girlfriends are such wonderful creatures. If not that, maybe get a proper job—it’s really easy to get depressed when you overthink too much…”

Once Cao Zhiheng started talking, there was no stopping him, but Gu Lizhou’s thoughts drifted far away, carried by the wind.

“My main job is acting. On the side… I’m a model, a waiter, a campus errand runner, a food critic, and an ambassador for promoting agricultural products…”

“Qiangzi said we should celebrate…”

“After a trip to the police station, we came out safe and sound ah! Isn’t that something worth celebrating?”

He looks so happy and fulfilled.

He and the people around him all seemed so happy.

Gu Lizhou was a little envious.

After the late-night gathering ended, Qiangzi drove Zhong Weishi back to the neighbourhood.

Qiangzi had drunk quite a bit, and Zhong Weishi felt concerned, “Drive carefully on the road ah. Send me a message when you get home.”

“What’s the point of sending a message if you haven’t topped up your phone?” Huangfu Qiang laughed.

Zhong Weishi chuckled, “I’ll top it up as soon as I get back.”

Now that the lights in the hallway were fixed, Zhong Weishi was still quite unaccustomed to it. At night, he could clearly see the rows of small ads… and Er’Gou’s picture.

He walked over, tore down the missing person flyer, and crumpled it into a ball. When he was about to toss it away, he remembered the bundle of sticks, so he stuffed the paper ball into his pocket instead.

People are really different from each other.

Even though he occasionally saw big stars on set, there was rarely an opportunity to exchange even a greeting, so he didn’t feel much impact from it.

But after Gu Lizhou appeared in this place, Zhong Weishi truly felt the gap between the rich and the poor; not just in money.

Cultural standards, moral character, family upbringing… these things, ingrained deep into one’s bones, shape a complete soul and at the same time form a person’s unique temperament.

If he had a family, would he be a different Zhong Weishi?

Would it be better than now?

“Knock knock knock—”

Cao Zhiheng opened the door and was immediately hit by the smell of alcohol. The boy’s cheeks were flushed, so he should have drunk a lot.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Zhong Weishi licked his lips and glanced inside, “Uh, is Gu Lizhou here?”

Cao Zhiheng: “He’s taking a bath.”

Zhong Wei Shi let out an “Oh”. He was just about to say he’d come back later, but Cao Zhiheng had already turned and yelled towards the bathroom, “Old Gu, the kid from 301 is looking for you.”

“Looking for me for what?”

The soundproofing of the bathroom wasn’t good, and Gu Lizhou’s voice was mixed with the sound of a stream of water: “Tell him to wait, I’m in the middle of a shower.”

“He asked you to wait,” Cao Zhiheng said.

Zhong Weishi grinned, showing his teeth, “I heard him.”

 

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