Month: July 2025

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

This perfectly described Gu Lizhou.

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

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

But everything changed when it came to Zhong Weishi.

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

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

He felt like he was no longer himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hungry, ah?”

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

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

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

His senses gradually returned, and his memory became clearer.

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

Liked him madly.

Just like how they had just madly exchanged breaths.

It was enough to make his legs go weak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still want to go again?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gu Lizhou lowered his head and chuckled quietly.

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

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

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

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

Outside, the sky was gradually darkening.

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

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

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

All traces of romance instantly vanished.

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

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

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

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

But things were different now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The kitten let out a perfectly timed meow.

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

A bone hit him square on the forehead.

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

“I learned it from you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A loud pop.

A faint red mark appeared on his forehead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just like that, the four legs tangled together.

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

“Nope.”

“No way?” Zhong Weishi was shocked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That old beast was kissing the kid!

Absolutely eye-burning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cao Zhiheng sighed and glanced down at his notes app.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was so blindly optimistic it was almost inhuman!

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

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

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

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

Truly, honest words are the hardest to hear.

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

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

“What limits?”

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

“…”

Love really does make people brain-dead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which leg?”

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

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

“You just are, anyway.”

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

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

Of course they did. A huge one.

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

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

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

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

“Face masks.”

“Pfft.”

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

“You immortal freak.”

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

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

“What do you have a mouth for?”

“To eat, ah.”

“…”

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

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

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

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

Then he bit down on the cherry.

It really was sweet.

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

For him, love had never been without reason.

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

Every trait was a bonus.

Even his lack of brains was kind of adorable.

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

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

Forehead, brow, nose bridge, lips, chin…

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe one day, he could truly become someone different.

New year, new beginnings.

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

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

It was a kind of farewell.

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

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

Zhong Weishi was most reluctant to part with him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zhong Weishi nodded hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you part dog or something?”

“Woof!”

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

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

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

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

“So-so.”

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

Gu Lizhou smirked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” Zhong Weishi was briefly stunned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that moment never came.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gu Lizhou nodded and obediently leaned against the fridge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gu Lizhou nodded and said yes.

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

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

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

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

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

Zhong Weishi let out an “Oh.”

The two of them locked eyes. Neither said anything.

The air turned silent, and a bit tense.

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

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

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

“Let’s skip the kiss scene.”

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

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

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

“There’s no such thing as what if.”

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

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

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

It sounded painful.

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

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

His eyes immediately lit up.

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

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

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

Zhong Weishi followed his gaze and looked down.

Everything was on full display.

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

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

The way he said it..

Was downright suggestive.

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

Their distance closed in an instant.

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

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

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

His eyelashes trembled gently under Gu Lizhou’s gaze.

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

The thought stunned him.

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

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

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

He couldn’t hold it for even two seconds.

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

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

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

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

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

There was nothing this flirtatious in the script…

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

His ability to form coherent language had dropped to zero.

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

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

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

He was stunned speechless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hmph.

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

Who cared who fell first?

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you one more time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His heart skipped a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gu Lizhou waved back and laughed.

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

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

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

An hour later, the bookmarks rose past twenty thousand.

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

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

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

[Wanlizhou]: ……

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

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

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

[Cat Puff Bell]: ……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He went back to his room and messaged Cheng Yue.

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

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

[Stubborn Scrap Iron]: Thanks.

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

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

— How was the audition?

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

— They want to sign me!!!!!!!!!!

— Male lead!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you planning to sign with their company?”

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

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

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

Qianhong’s offer was a 50-50 split.

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

The gap in strength was stark.

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

“No need.”

Gu Lizhou was stunned.

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

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

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

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

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

Fate may appear unpredictable, yet everything is subtly interconnected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gu Lizhou took a bite and continued researching.

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

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

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

Let’s hope fate favors him.

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

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

“What are you going to say ah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Then tell me how you made your fortune.”

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

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

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

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

“You hesitated.”

“Huh?”

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

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

“…”

Forget it.

Why bother getting jealous of himself?

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

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

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

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

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

“……”

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

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

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

He even found time to buy himself a new phone.

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

“Yo, new phone ah?”

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

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

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

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

Zhong Weishi pouted.

Being rich is being the grandfather.

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

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

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

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

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

Dated two years ago.

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

Gu Lizhou smiled faintly.

Five minutes later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More like cursed fate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

Author’s Note:

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