Zhong Weishi hadn’t actually taken the matter of the birthday gift to heart—he had only mentioned it in passing.
Thinking back to last year, when he celebrated his birthday with Qiangzi and the others, his gift had been a pack of spicy strips. The packaging featured a skull and a row of edgy, stylized characters: Reaper Spicy Strips.
“Happy birthday ah, birthday boy! Try it out, this stuff is amazing! A hundred times better than Weilong!”
Zhong Weishi had taken a big bite full of anticipation, only for an overwhelming, burning spiciness to surge through his entire body, hitting straight to his organs. It choked him to the point that he was filled with tears and couldn’t open his eyes.
That wasn’t just any regular spicy strip. A single lick was enough to burn away all sensation in people’s taste buds. He had suffered by the sink, rinsing his mouth in agony for a full 30 minutes, yet the numbness on his tongue remained. His mouth burned so intensely that he couldn’t even close it properly, and saliva kept pooling uncontrollably.
Meanwhile, the culprits behind it all laughed heartlessly on the side.
The next day, his ass still had a lingering, fiery sensation.
To him, the word “gift” had always just meant something for fun, so he hadn’t expected Gu Lizhou to put much thought into picking one.
He had to admit that Gu Lizhou’s handwriting was as impressive as the person himself. It was nearly identical to Wan Lizhou’s signature!
He must have practiced for a long time.
Zhong Weishi was paralyzed on the bed in a “大” shape, kicked his feet lazily, then buried his face deep into his pillow with a long sigh.
Thinking back on it, he felt too embarrassed. If he had known, he would’ve just pretended to have been cheated!
His right hand brushed over the keyboard, and the system emitted a rhythmic tapping sound as he typed.
[Weishi]: I got too excited just now, I think I forgot to say thank you.
[Gigolo]: You’re welcome.
[Weishi]: That watch must’ve been expensive. It’s really a waste of money.
[Gigolo]: Making up for all the fatherly love you’ve lacked over the years.
Zhong Weishi burst out laughing at the message.
Typing with one hand was a bit laborious, so Zhong Weishi shifted positions, propping himself up on his elbow.
[Weishi]: When’s your birthday?
[Gigolo]: Father’s Day next year.
[Weishi]: Are you done yet?! Be serious!
[Gigolo]: 2.29
[Weishi]: What the fvck! For real?
Gu Lizhou sent a photo of his ID to prove he wasn’t lying.
The ID photo was newly taken. Zhong Weishi zoomed in and stared at it for a while.
A rare gem.1This can also be a slang for someone who is outrageous or annoying to the extreme.
[Weishi]: You’re miserable. Doesn’t that mean you get way fewer birthdays than everyone else?
[Gigolo]: Yeah, once every four years.
[Weishi]: So you’re only seven this year? Hahahaha
[Gigolo]: …
[Weishi]: I’ve got your birthday noted! When the time comes, I’ll celebrate your lunar birthday with you!
Gu Lizhou stared at that last message in a daze for a long time.
He couldn’t even remember the last time someone had celebrated his birthday with him. Maybe seven or eight years ago? He had never cared much for these occasions.
But looking at that exclamation mark at the end of the message, he suddenly found himself looking forward to his birthday.
A freshly lit cigarette rested between his fingers. He tapped the screen with one finger and sent a voice message: “Alright, get some rest.”
[Lunatic]: Mm, good night.
“Good night.”
By the time their chat ended, it was already past eleven.
Gu Lizhou wasn’t the least bit sleepy. Sitting at his desk, his mind drifted back to the moment his cover had been blown today.
His thoughts wandered to that night when Zhong Weishi blew rainbow farts.
Zhong Weishi had said that reading his work made him feel a sense of strength.
Fate was a strange thing. The strength he had given to others years ago had now, in a roundabout way, found its way back to him.
No matter how resounding a reputation might be, one day it will fade into the past. The only thing that truly gave life meaning was perseverance.
It didn’t matter how many people left—what mattered was that there would always be someone still waiting for him.
He later thought about it carefully. He realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that the barrier between them hadn’t been broken. Given his current state of disarray, if he revealed himself to Zhong Weishi now, the image of the white moonlight would probably shatter.
He wanted to become his old self again.
He wanted the next 10 years, 20 years, 30 years… to hold more meaning. He wanted to reach old age and still be able to look back with pride.
—I’ve been uncertain, disappointed, lost, and broken. I’ve fallen, but I stood up again and found my way.
Gu Lizhou fixed his gaze on the screen and started typing.
The unfocused look in his eyes sharpened into one of determination.
Following the sudden burst of inspiration from last time, he began outlining the main plot and various subplots, preparing to write a lengthy suspense novel.
The protagonist’s character design and the rough framework of the story had already taken shape. The murder of a streamer would serve as the first case, and from there, he would gradually refine each storyline and correct any logical inconsistencies.
He had read countless works in this genre, but this was his first time actually writing one himself.
He had no idea how long it would take to finish, how many obstacles he would encounter along the way, or how many people would still be willing to read it once it was done.
But he knew one thing—this moment marked a new beginning in his life.
One day, he would stand before his die-hard fans again and make them take back that “you’re too old to write” remark.
Wan Lizhou wasn’t some kind of genius, but he had always been incredible. Anyone who could persist in chasing their dreams were incredible.
The sound of typing finally ceased at four in the morning. Gu Lizhou went to bed, only to be woken up at eight by the noises coming from the kitchen. He got up and continued researching.
Meanwhile, just a few walls away, Zhong Weishi had spent the whole night in a state of excitement—one moment fiddling with his new watch’s calendar function, the next watching Da Fei’s livestream. Right before bed, he suddenly remembered that fine he needed to pay and immediately sprang up from his bed to write an IOU, even adding in the 4,000 + rent he still owed from last time.
Early morning.
Cao Zhiheng was hanging clothes on the balcony when Zhong Weishi passed by, nodding a quick greeting before heading straight for Gu Lizhou’s room.
“Hey, rich guy… about last night…” His sentence abruptly cut off, the rest of his words stuck in his throat.
Because he saw Gu Lizhou’s computer screen switch from one interface straight to the desktop in an instant.
There were only two reasons why a man would react like this: One, he was playing games at work and got caught by his boss. Two, he was watching p0rn and jerking off when someone suddenly walked in.
The man sitting in front of his desk wore thin-framed glasses. His expression was one of sheer panic. His mouth was slightly open, like a wooden statue, unable to react.
The answer was painfully obvious!
No way, Gu Lizhou…
Zhong Weishi’s mind went “Ew~” in an instant.
Gu Lizhou’s desk was positioned with his back to the door. If this guy hadn’t barged in so aggressively, he wouldn’t have had time to react at all.
He glanced at his laptop again, making sure all his documents were minimized, then turned around and shouted, “Who told you to enter without knocking? Get out and come back in again!”
“Oh.” Zhong Weishi pouted, backed out, and knocked three times. “Excuse me, is the rich guy home?”
Gu Lizhou snorted. “Come in.”
More surprising than the thought of Gu Lizhou watching p0rn first thing in the morning was the sight of him wearing glasses.
This man was always particular about his lifestyle. Even in his 30s, his skin was still smooth and fair. The thin black-gold frames perched on his high nose bridge made him look refined and handsome.
His desk was covered in papers, his right hand still resting on the mouse. His bangs partially obscured his brows, giving him a scholarly look that Zhong Weishi had never seen before.
Behind the lenses, his eyes lacked their usual laziness. Instead, they were deep and serious, as if he were a completely different person.
This was the first time he had seen a man who looked better with glasses.
But at the same time, there was an undeniable air of a well-dressed scoundrel about him.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, Zhong Weishi scratched the back of his head. “Did I interrupt something?”
“What?” Gu Lizhou’s mind was filled with: Shit, shit, what to answer if the little beast asked? My identity won’t be exposed just like that, right?
It took him a moment to register the suggestive look in Zhong Weishi’s eyes. Then, with a quick and decisive slap, he snapped, “What the hell is going on in your head?”
“Isn’t that what you were doing?” Zhong Weishi’s gaze swept over Gu Lizhou’s crotch—jeans, no suspicious bulges, zipper intact. “Then what were you looking at?”
“None of your goddamn business.” Gu Lizhou shut his laptop and climbed onto his bed.
His guilty-looking actions only fueled Zhong Weishi’s imagination. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I am.” Gu Lizhou answered frankly.
“Why are you wearing glasses now ah?” Zhong Weishi pinched the frame and perched it on his own nose. “Damn, these actually have a prescription ah.”
“No shit. Why would I wear them otherwise?”
“For the aesthetic. I wear non-prescription ones for my roles when I play those refined scoundrels.” Zhong Weishi looked at him. “You wearing glasses makes you look kinda…”
He originally meant to say “refined ah”, but Gu Lizhou kept staring at him with that deep, unreadable gaze. His throat tightened for no reason, and somehow, the words that came out were—“like a total scoundrel ah.”
What followed was a violent beating.
Zhong Weishi rolled on the bed clutching a pillow, but Gu Lizhou leaped on him, locking him in place like he was tying up a crab. Then he started tickling him mercilessly. “Still trying to run?”
Zhong Weishi laughed so hard that he kicked the air, gripping Gu Lizhou’s wrist with all his strength, but he was too weak from the tickling to push him away. The whole room was filled with breathless laughter and gasps for air.
In the struggle, his hand accidentally scratched Gu Lizhou’s jaw, leaving three distinct red marks on his fair skin.
Zhong Weishi sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re dead.” Gu Lizhou straddled his thigh and resumed his tickle attack.
Zhong Weishi squirmed like a slippery eel, laughing so hard he was out of breath. He finally managed to grab Gu Lizhou’s wrist and pleaded in desperation, “I, I—I was wrong!”
Gu Lizhou twisted his arm back and pinned him down, leaning in closer. “Admitting defeat?”
A soft pillow was the only thing between them. Zhong Weishi caught a whiff of his fragrant shampoo.
He stared into Gu Lizhou’s eyes, dark like stars in the midnight sky.
For some reason, his heart was pounding uncontrollably.
In just two seconds of eye contact, his ears started burning with embarrassment. He blinked and quickly nodded. “Admitting defeat.”
Gu Lizhou finally let go, smoothing out his wrinkled shirt with a smile. “So, what was so urgent that you came running over?”
Zhong Weishi scratched his ear, then pulled a crumpled IOU from his pocket and slapped it onto the desk. “Here, for you—rent, plus the fine. I’ll pay you back when I save up enough.”
“So obedient?” Gu Lizhou glanced at the atrociously written note. “Can you pay it off within six months?”
“No idea ah. If I can’t, I’ll just drag it out a little longer.” Zhong Weishi grinned.
Right next to the note was Gu Lizhou’s handwritten character outline.
Both their gazes landed on the same spot.
“Ai?” Zhong Weishi’s eyes lit up. “What are you writing…” Just as he was about to reach out and flip it open, Gu Lizhou snatched it away, uncharacteristically stumbling over his words. “Uh, have you, have you had breakfast yet?”
“Not yet ah.”
“Go, go, go. Let’s eat breakfast.” Gu Lizhou slung an arm over his shoulder and steered him toward the door.
“What were you writing?” Zhong Weishi twisted his head back for another look.
“Practicing writing.”
“Oh. You paying for breakfast?”
“Please. Did you brush your teeth and wash your face?” Gu Lizhou kept switching topics.
“I did.”
“Oh? Then why do you still have eye gunk in the corner of your eyes?”
“No way.” Zhong Weishi rubbed his eyes. “I really did. Smell if you don’t believe me.”
“Roll.”
Actually, Gu Lizhou had already been forced by Cao Zhiheng to drink a bowl of porridge and eat two buns earlier that morning. He only asked the question to change the subject—who would’ve thought this brat hadn’t eaten anything at this hour?
At the breakfast shop, he only ordered a serving of shrimp wontons.
“Are you even a man? That tiny portion wouldn’t even fill the gap between your teeth,” Zhong Weishi remarked.
“Just order your own.” Gu Lizhou pulled out a Grandpa Mao from his wallet and placed it on the counter. “Eat as much as you can.”
Zhong Weishi’s appetite kicked in, and he ordered a deluxe family-sized wonton bowl, a serving of pan-fried buns, and a mung bean soup.
“Do you eat crab roe soup dumplings? They’re really good—thin skin, lots of broth.” Zhong Weishi tilted his head, studying the menu.
Gu Lizhou: “If you want them, just order them ah.”
“But if I can’t finish them, it’d be a waste. So, I need to check how much space your stomach still has.”
Gu Lizhou thought for a moment. “About 30%-40% left.”
“30%-40% of what? A bowl of wontons? Your 30%-40% percent and my 30%-40% might be completely different. Qiangzi’s 30%-40% might be ten bowls of instant noodles.” Zhong Weishi analyzed it seriously.
Too lazy to argue, Gu Lizhou directly told the little girl behind the cashier to add a serving of crab roe soup dumplings.
“You’re so generous,” Zhong Weishi said.
“Just remember to be filial to me properly in the future.”
“Got it la—”
Since there wasn’t much work this morning, Zhong Weishi found a quiet corner to slowly enjoy his hearty breakfast.
The breakfast shop had WiFi, so while waiting for his food, he scrolled through his WeChat group messages.
[Huangfu]: Da Fei, don’t be afraid. I’ve got your back. He wouldn’t dare do anything to you.
[Da Fei]: I’m just worried he’ll come to the shop and cause trouble. If my parents find out, I’m done for. T_T This guy is seriously sick.
[Wei-ge]: @Weishi @Weishi Are you awake? Big news!! Da Fei got hit on!
[Huangfu]: That grandson wants to race me.
Zhong Weishi’s pupils dilated instantly. He quickly scrolled up to check the chat history.
The “grandson” Qiangzi mentioned was none other than the guy who had been wildly throwing gifts at Da Fei—‘Oops, That’s What If Feels Like.’
After Zhong Weishi went offline last night, the two of them had a heated argument in the live stream. Because ‘Oops’ had declared himself as Da Fei’s boyfriend on the platform which Da Fei outright denied it.
This whole mess traced back to the night when Gu Lizhou and Zhong Weishi watched the stream together.
Back then, Qiangzi had only sent a few aircraft carriers before his balance ran dry. But ‘‘Oops’’ had dropped a whopping 60,000 yuan in one go, shocking everyone in the live broadcast room.
After brushing the gift, he asked to add Da Fei on WeChat to become friends.
Anyone with a bit of life experience could tell what that really meant. Naturally, Da Fei refused. At first, he didn’t add the guy and instead privately messaged him, asking for his Alipay account to return the money.
Not only did ‘Oops’ refuse to accept it, but the next day, he came back and threw in another massive donation.
Feeling guilty, Da Fei eventually added him, intending to return the money and put an end to this shady “business.”
But the moment he added him, his Moments revealed his workplace—Legendary Hair Salon on Yueshan Street.
‘Oops’ not only refused the refund but also started hitting on him.
[Oops]: You’ve never even tried it. How can you be sure you won’t like it? I promise I’ll make you feel good.
[Da Fei]: Stop talking.
[Oops]: You’re really not willing to spend a night with me for this much money? Is it not enough? I can send you more if you want ah.
True to his name,2His name can also mean “what terrible luck.” ‘Oops’ had made a truly awful opening remark, which only made Da Fei furious.
[Da Fei]: You’re sick! I’m not for sale. I can return every cent of what you sent me, and I won’t be broadcasting anymore.
[Oops]: I’m not short on money. Once I’ve given it to you, it’s yours.
[Oops]: Can’t I at least try to chase you slowly? Don’t reject me so quickly. You don’t even know me yet.
[Da Fei]: I have no interest in knowing you.
[Oops]: It’s hard for me when you’re like this.
[Da Fei]: It’s hard for me too when you’re like this.
[Oops]: I’ll come find you.
After Zhong Weishi finished reading the chat logs Da Fei had shared, he felt deeply unsettled.
Meanwhile, Gu Lizhou casually sipped on the mung bean soup from his bowl and chuckled, “Da Fei really is popular with guys ah.”
Zhong Weishi’s eyes widened in suspicion. “Wait, don’t tell me you like him too!”
“I’m not into that type,” Gu Lizhou replied, taking another sip.
“Oh, you scared me for a second.” Zhong Weishi looked down, but then a sudden realization struck him. He shot up in alarm. “Wait—holy shit, you like guys too ah!”
Every head in the shop turned in unison.
The result of his outburst made Gu Lizhou shove his face into the bowl of mung bean soup.
Although Gu Lizhou later clarified that he liked the opposite sex, Zhong Weishi remained skeptical of that answer.
“I heard from Uncle Cao that you don’t have a girlfriend. Why is that?”
“Couldn’t find one. Haven’t met someone who makes my heart race.”
“It shouldn’t be ah… Someone with your looks should be easy to find a match for ah.”
“How would I know? Maybe I’m just destined to be unlucky in love. Who has a smooth-sailing life anyway?” Gu Lizhou stirred the small wontons in his bowl. “I mean, I’m rich, good-looking, and have a great personality. I’m practically perfect. Maybe the heavens thought—”
Before he could finish, the person across from him gagged.
Gu Lizhou picked up his chopsticks and knocked them against his forehead.
Zhong Weishi squinted at him, tilting his head. “You sure you don’t have some unspeakable secret?”
Gu Lizhou sighed, worn down by his persistence. “Fine. I just like men, okay?”
His tone was so reluctant that Zhong Weishi found it hard to believe.
The topic shifted back to the group chat records.
Da Fei usually acted shy and reserved, but at the end of the day, he was still a man. There was only so much harassment from “Oops” he could take before he snapped and blocked him.
“Oops” went to the live platform, threatening to show up at Da Fei’s workplace if he didn’t agree to “get back together.”
Qiangzi, furious on Da Fei’s behalf, immediately cursed him out, calling him a pervert and a retarded gay. The two got into a heated argument.
To Qiangzi, a man’s dignity was as important as his life.
Since arguing online wasn’t satisfying enough, they decided to settle it offline.
Zhong Weishi gave Gu Lizhou a brief rundown of the situation. As someone who had long “retired from jianghu,” Gu Lizhou found it utterly ridiculous.
What was even worth fighting over?
Childish.
But what Zhong Weishi was more concerned about was—Qiangzi only had a little electric scooter. What the hell was he planning to race with ah!?
Qiangzi sent over the racing location which was a certain Wanda Plaza in the downtown area.
Gu Lizhou was forcibly dragged along by Zhong Weishi to watch the commotion.
–
At the main entrance.
Zhong Weishi was looking down, searching for possible drag racing spots near Wanda Plaza.
The area was full of traffic lights, making it dangerous even for an electric scooter race. If the police caught them, it’d be over. So, he turned to the cultured one beside him for help in wording a message to stop this so-called battle between men.
“What a bunch of childish idiots.” Gu Lizhou had no problem speaking from a place of comfort. “Just let them race ah. It’ll be a great chance to get acquainted with the traffic police.”
Zhong Weishi gave him a blank look and sent a voice message to the group: “Qiangzi, listen. Can you talk to him and reconsider? No racing, no fighting. We live in a civilized society, so let’s strive to be civilized people.”
“How about a contest to see who can recite the Eight Honors and Eight Shames first? I’ll join too! Trust me, I’ll win for sure!”
Gu Lizhou: “…”
At that moment, A’Wei came running from Wanda Plaza’s main entrance.
“Weishi, hurry! They’re already warming up!”
“Are they insane?” Zhong Weishi rushed after him, but something felt off. As they ran, he realized something was wrong—Wei-ge was leading them straight into the mall.
“Where the hell are we going? Weren’t they supposed to race?”
“Yeah, third-floor arcade. Motorcycle racing competition.”
Gu Lizhou: “…”
Zhong Weishi: “…”