“Come in and have a seat.” Cao Zhiheng opened the door and began clearing the various props off the sofa. “It’s a bit messy ah, hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

Zhong Weishi had lived here for many years, but this was the first time he had been properly invited into someone’s apartment. He glanced around and thought to himself that an artist’s world… really was messier than usual.

Cao Zhiheng had a kind face and was quick to strike up a conversation, which made him seem much more approachable than Zhong Weishi had imagined.

“Are you making props for a film crew ah?” Zhong Weishi asked.

“Yo, sharp eye, you can tell at a glance ah.” Cao Zhiheng laughed. “Most people assume I’m a carpenter at first glance.”

Zhong Weishi chuckled, picking up a small wooden jewelry box with a label from the film crew stuck underneath: “The Best Inn in the Capital.”

He had some impression of this TV show; the director He Gu was quite famous in the circle. Someone in the group chat had mentioned that filming would start soon, but then there had been no updates. What a coincidence—this artist was actually making props for that production?

“The stuff is quite exquisite. This must have taken quite a bit of time to make?”

“Not too bad. The one you’re holding took about two weeks to finish. The intricate carving work on the hollow parts was the most time-consuming,” Cao Zhiheng said.

“Is the drama already being filmed now?” Zhong Weishi asked.

“Uh, yeah, just started last week.” Cao Zhiheng poured him a cup of warm water.

“Thanks.”

Previously, Zhong Weishi had only ever exchanged nods with him, but after a bit of conversation, he found that this person’s personality was quite good. He asked, “Then, are you familiar with the crew’s coordinator? The one in charge of casting actors.”

“Quite familiar ah, why? Do you want to audition ah? The lead roles have already been cast, and they usually recruit those well in advance,” Cao Zhiheng said.

“No, no, no,” Zhong Weishi waved his hand, “I was just asking casually. If they happen to be short on extras or small supporting roles, do you think you could maybe help introduce me? I can do wire stunts, flips, play a corpse—anything!”

Ancient martial arts dramas often required a lot of wirework. It wasn’t that the new generation of actors weren’t willing to put in the effort; they just hadn’t mastered the skills yet. As soon as they were hoisted up, they’d start flailing and screaming, making some scenes better suited for professional stunt doubles to save time and effort.

Cao Zhiheng nodded, “Sure ah, I’ll ask around for you later.”

Zhong Weishi was so excited that his face lit up with joy. “Then, thank you so much! Let’s add each other as friends!”

“Okay.” Cao Zhiheng took out his phone.

Zhong Weishi quickly asked, “What’s your Wi-Fi password, by the way?”

The two were engrossed in conversation when the sound of running water in the bathroom suddenly stopped.

Zhong Weishi paused for a moment, reminded of his main reason for coming over tonight. He turned his head to look.

A man’s bare upper body unexpectedly came into his view.

Gu Lizhou, who usually lived alone, didn’t have the habit of bringing a pile of clothes into the bathroom with him. So when he came to Cao Zhiheng’s place, it was no different for him—it felt as casual as being at home, free of restraints.

After showering, he didn’t bother drying his hair, so it hung wet and dripping. A light gray striped towel was slung loosely around his neck. He was wrapped in a white bath towel around his waist, but it was so loose that it looked like it might fall off after just a few steps.

Zhong Weishi’s first reaction was that this guy actually had a pretty good physique.

The muscles on his arms weren’t particularly bulky, but the lines were well-defined. His chest was slightly flushed from the hot water, and droplets of water from his hair trickled down his chest and abs. His whole body seemed to still be surrounded by the warmth of the steam, and the faint outline of his V-lines disappeared beneath the bath towel.

“Give me a minute, I’ll put on some clothes,” Gu Lizhou said, wiping his hair.

“Oh.” Zhong Weishi hurriedly looked away.

Gu Lizhou walked over to them, took a sip of water, and then turned to head toward the bedroom. Zhong Weishi’s eyes uncontrollably followed him again.

Was he not wearing underwear?

Above that was a sharply defined waistline…

There was a large black tattoo on his slightly protruding shoulder blade. Before Zhong Weishi could make out the design, Gu Lizhou had already shut the door behind him.

Seeing how wide-eyed Zhong Weishi was, Cao Zhiheng couldn’t help but wave his hand and tease him, “What are you staring at? Into guys, are you?”

Zhong Weishi immediately retorted, “No, I just thought I saw a tattoo on him.”

“So what if he has a tattoo?” Cao Zhiheng chuckled. “Haven’t you seen him? He smokes, gets perms, and has tattoos, but he’s not a bad guy.”

“I didn’t mean that.” Zhong Weishi lowered his head and muttered softly like a mosquito, “I do think that he’s a nice person.”

Only when he reached for the mug next to him to take a sip, did he realized… it was empty.

Cao Zhiheng laughed apologetically, “Sorry, all the cups here look the same. Let me wash it and pour you another one.”

Zhong Weishi put the cup back down as if he’d pinched a hot potato. “No, no, it’s fine. I won’t drink…”

Then he suddenly realized something. “I mean, I’m not bothered by it… I’m just not thirsty.”

God ah! What the hell was he talking about!

Zhong Weishi felt like a white soul was floating out of the back of his head and hovering above him.

Cao Zhiheng let out a laugh and didn’t say anything.

“What’s up?” Gu Lizhou emerged from the bedroom, still fastening the waistband of his pants. Dressed in a simple sports outfit with his bangs hanging down, he looked like he was only in his 20s.

“Oh, about that,” The moment Zhong Weishi met Gu Lizhou’s gaze, all the lines he’d been rehearsing along the way got stuck in his throat. “These clothes, I feel like I don’t really need to dress up this much…”

“Want to return it?” Gu Lizhou saw through him instantly.

“Ah…” Zhong Weishi nodded in relief. “Did you keep the receipt? I’ll take it to the mall tomorrow and check.”

“Nope.” Gu Lizhou answered quickly.

Cao Zhiheng figured it out, his eyes suspicious: “Wait, you bought him those clothes ah? You ripped his clothes? How’d you break it ah?”

Gu Lizhou didn’t deny it, pouring some water into his cup. “If you don’t want to wear it, just give it away.”

Cao Zhiheng glanced at Zhong Weishi, then at his brother, sensing something unusual.

Zhong Weishi’s eyes widened.

Like he’d give it away!

Never mind how expensive this shirt was, even if it was worth just 20 yuan, he wouldn’t give it away…

In this world, aside from Grandma Zhao, no one else had ever bought him clothes.

Naturally, he couldn’t just accept the gift without reciprocating. Zhong Weishi had just searched for the brand on Taobao and saw the retail price.

A 9% discount still made it over 800 yuan.

He looked up, determined: “Give me some paper and a pen.”

Cao Zhiheng, realizing he was going to write an IOU, quickly said, “Xiao Didi, it’s just a piece of clothing, no need for that.”

Gu Lizhou immediately put on a ‘Does laozi looks like a person who lacks that little money?’ expression, waving it off. “En, there’s really no need.”

Zhong Weishi looked at him, “Don’t be stubborn with me! I’m someone who’s always had my own principles. I don’t like casually owing people favors.”

Cao Zhiheng, the fence-sitter, immediately switched sides: “Yes, yes, yes, owing someone a favor is the hardest to repay. Old Gu! If he wants to repay you, just let him.”

Gu Lizhou thought this stupid kid must have drunk too much of the fake alcohol. Wasn’t he usually pretty happy when taking advantage of him?

It wasn’t like he bought the clothes today for the purpose of giving away favors.

But while he hesitated, Cao Zhiheng had already handed over paper and pen, buzzing in Zhong Weishi’s ear like a bee: “Just a little gesture will do ah, don’t take it too seriously. When dealing with a stupid rich bastard like him, we’d be fools if we don’t pit him.”

The stupid rich bastard kicked him.

Gu Lizhou didn’t even care about what Zhong Weishi was writing, until he put the pen down and dashed out the door, then he squinted to make out the barely-legible scribbles that generously called themselves words.

“Happiness Annual Card

With this card, you can watch my talent show 100 times for free.”

It was signed with a ridiculously cheeky smiley face, with an additional note drawn beside it: “Heihei, I have no money!”

Gu Lizhou held his forehead, laughing so hard his shoulders shook.