Wait, Yu Ju, what’s wrong with you? Why did you respond?

No…

He didn’t actually respond—he was just clarifying.

The private room was unusually quiet at this moment. Yu Ju wasn’t sure if it had always been this quiet or if the silence had only fallen after his exchange with Gu Qianxing.

It felt like everyone was waiting for a result.

Some were anticipating Yu Ju’s answer, some were staring at Gu Qianxing in surprise, and some were secretly enjoying the little undercurrents between the two.

Before long, a soft voice drifted into Yu Ju’s ears, laced with teasing amusement:

“Gu Yaoxing, since when did you become so flirty?”

Yu Ju felt that the situation was getting off track, so he hurriedly tried to steer the conversation back in the right direction.

“It’s just a form of address, nothing special.”

A dull response—one that didn’t stir much reaction from the onlookers.

After all, some fans did call Yu Ju wife. At first, he found it hard to get used to, but after hearing it enough times, it didn’t seem like a big deal anymore.

Regardless of whether they called him “kid,” “baby,” “brother,” or even “wife,” at the core of it all was simply affection.

Sister Xiao had said before—if there’s one thing you shouldn’t do in this industry, it’s taking fans too seriously. When fans like someone, they can say the most shameless things without a second thought. You just get used to it. Just accept it.

After Yu Ju finished explaining, he saw Gu Qianxing nod slightly. Then, Gu Qianxing picked up his glass, gestured toward Yu Ju, and tilted his head back to drink it down.

Whether it was an apology or something else, Yu Ju couldn’t tell.

But he didn’t think Gu Qianxing had done it on purpose. Instead, he felt like his own response had unintentionally made Gu Qianxing’s words seem intentional.

Which, in turn, made it feel like he had taken advantage of Gu Qianxing somehow.

He should be the one drinking.

After that, the bottle spun two more times, but unfortunately, it never landed on Gu Qianxing again. Of course, Yu Ju also managed to stay out of trouble.

The brief interaction between Yu Ju and Gu Qianxing felt like an insignificant little episode—something that passed quickly and was forgotten by everyone.

Everyone except Yu Ju.

The game shifted from drinking to dice, then from dice to cards, but Yu Ju’s mind was still stuck on that one word.

Wife. Wife.

Damn it, this is so annoying.

“What are you staring at so seriously?”

Zhao Yi suddenly leaned in, following Yu Ju’s gaze toward the table.

Only then did Yu Ju realize that his eyes had been fixed on a single sunflower seed shell in front of him the whole time.

“Oh, nothing,” he said casually. “Just spacing out.”

Zhao Yi asked, “Bored or deep in thought?”

Yu Ju thought about it for a moment and didn’t bother to hide it. “Thinking.”

Zhao Yi: “Thinking about Gu Qianxing?”

Yu Ju froze for a moment—he hadn’t expected Zhao Yi to be so spot-on.

Zhao Yi raised an eyebrow. “So you are thinking about him?”

“No,” Yu Ju denied immediately, giving Zhao Yi a baffled look. “Why would I be thinking about him?”

But Zhao Yi didn’t seem like he was joking. He leaned in slightly, as if about to say something, but just then, the background noise suddenly grew much louder.

Both of them turned toward the sound—a guy had grabbed the mic, getting ready to sing.

“Why is no one singing? Let me start one off.”

Yu Ju raised his voice a little. “What were you about to say?”

Zhao Yi thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Forget it, I’ll tell you later.”

This group’s gatherings always revolved around drinking. No matter what they were doing, it all ended with alcohol in the end.

Looking around the room, Yu Ju realized—he was the only one who hadn’t had a single drop.

All night long, the phrases Yu Ju heard the most were:

“Not drinking? That’s disrespecting me.”

“Are you raising fish or something?”

“Drinking juice? Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“One more drink won’t kill you.”

Once people got drunk, they stopped recognizing faces. Whether they knew each other or not, they would throw their arms around shoulders, call each other brothers, and chug without hesitation.

But no matter how chaotic the scene became, no one pressured Yu Ju to drink. Even those who approached him for a toast were polite, saying, “Juice is fine for you, we’ll drink freely.”

It was as if, because of Gu Qianxing, Yu Ju had been handed a free pass.

Which only made him feel more out of place as the night dragged on.

If this were any other gathering, Yu Ju would have already found an excuse to leave.

After enduring yet another painfully off-key song, he picked up his phone to check the time—10:30 p.m.

Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he turned his head slightly, just enough for his peripheral vision to catch Gu Qianxing.

He was still lounging lazily in his seat. When someone came to drink with him, he lifted his glass; when someone spoke to him, he leaned in slightly.

He seemed to blend into the atmosphere, yet at the same time, he looked entirely alone.

“Why have you been staring at Lion all night?” Zhao Yi suddenly asked Yu Ju.

Yu Ju frowned. “Who’s Lion?”

Zhao Yi pointed toward the two o’clock direction. “Him. Haven’t you been watching him this whole time?”

Yu Ju let out a small noise of surprise.

Lion was just the person sitting directly in front of Gu Qianxing in his peripheral vision.

“…No.”

He only gave that one-word response, not even bothering to explain.

Instead, he asked, “Are all their nicknames animals?”

Zhao Yi nodded. “Most of the ones with nicknames are animals.” Then, he started listing them off: “From here—Lion, Mouse, Magpie. Oh, and the guy behind you? Frog.”

Yu Ju nodded along, then paused. “Then why is Gu Qianxing the only one called ‘Gu Yaoxing’?” (Yaoxing means demon spirit or enchantress.)

Zhao Yi: “Maybe it just fits.”

Yu Ju said, “A fox is still an animal.”

Zhao Yi chuckled. “What, are you worried about his nickname?”

“Not at all,” Yu Ju replied. “Just making conversation.”

After a pause, Yu Ju added, “Now that you’ve joined them, are you going to pick an animal for yourself too?”

“What? That’s ridiculous,” Zhao Yi found the idea absurd. “It’s not like this is some kind of gang.”

Yu Ju nodded. “True.”

It was pretty ridiculous. He had only brought it up because he’d been thinking about Gu Qianxing.

And, naturally, he had given himself one too.

Something strong, something fierce.

He was going to be a tiger!

Almost done, Yu Ju finished the last sip of his drink.

“I’m heading out,” he said to Zhao Yi. “Got class in the morning and work in the afternoon.”

“Alright.”

Zhao Yi wasn’t surprised that Yu Ju was leaving early. In fact, he thought Yu Ju had stayed longer than expected—lasting this long was already impressive.

He patted Yu Ju’s shoulder. “Be careful on the way back. Let me know when you get home.”

Yu Ju nodded. “Got it.”

Their spot was the closest to the door. As Yu Ju stood up, he wondered whether he should say goodbye to Gu Qianxing.

But when he turned to look, Gu Qianxing was deep in conversation with the person next to him.

If he remembered correctly, that was the one Zhao Yi had called Magpie.

The name suited him—he’d been chirping nonstop since earlier.

From Yu Ju’s angle, he could only see Gu Qianxing’s side profile.

Forget it. Better to just leave.

A server led the way downstairs again—she had the elevator keycard, so Yu Ju had no choice but to let her escort him to the ground floor. But once they got there, he thanked her and told her she didn’t need to see him off any further.

The server nodded and gave him a deep bow. “Sir, take care. See you next time.” Then, she turned and left.

Yu Ju had never been used to being served like this, nor was he comfortable with the world of neon lights and endless drinks.

Stepping out of the building, a gust of cold wind hit him, cooling the slight flush on his face.

His mother’s birthday was coming up. She followed the lunar calendar, so when Yu Ju checked the time earlier, he had also taken a moment to note today’s date.

March 15th.

He looked up at the sky.

Nothing. Couldn’t see a damn thing.

Yu Ju lowered his gaze, unlocked his phone, and swiped twice before finding the ride-hailing app on his home screen.

But just as he tapped it open, a hand suddenly reached over.

A slender index finger rested lightly on his wrist, pressing down just enough to shift it half a centimeter lower.

Because of that small force, Yu Ju lifted his head—only to meet a pair of deep, unreadable eyes.

In that instant, the nickname surfaced in his mind again.

Gu Qianxing.

“I’m heading home too,” Gu Qianxing said as he withdrew his hand. “I’ll take you.”

Yu Ju wasn’t sure if he wanted to accept the offer, so he casually changed the subject. “Why are you leaving too?”

Gu Qianxing replied, “It’s boring.”

Yu Ju agreed with that.

Yu Ju almost followed up with another question—if it was boring, why was Gu Qianxing only leaving now?

But after a moment’s thought, he let it go.

They weren’t that close. Their relationship wasn’t at the level where Yu Ju could casually tease Gu Qianxing.

Nor was it at the level where Gu Qianxing should be offering to take him home.

“No need,” Yu Ju said, playing along as he lifted his phone. “I already booked a ride. But thanks.”

Gu Qianxing didn’t seem to mind. He gave a light hum in acknowledgment before saying, “Then you can take me home.”

Yu Ju slowly turned his head to look at him. “What?”

Gu Qianxing remained perfectly composed. “You know, I drank a lot.”

Yu Ju: “……”

He did know that.

But—

“I don’t know,” Yu Ju retracted his gaze. “Why would I know that?”

Gu Qianxing showed no sign of embarrassment, as if the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He simply replied, “Well, now you do.”

Yu Ju: “……”

Gu Qianxing genuinely seemed to expect Yu Ju to take him home. He pressed on, “So? Will you?”

Yu Ju thought for a moment. “I’ll call a ride for you.”

Gu Qianxing’s tone took on a deliberately weary edge. “My head feels so dizzy.”

Yu Ju turned to look at him again.

This guy’s face wasn’t flushed, his breathing was steady, and he stood as firmly as ever. Exactly what part of him was dizzy?

When Yu Ju didn’t respond, Gu Qianxing sighed and muttered, “Kids these days have no heart.”

Yu Ju: “……”

Yu Ju scoffed. “Who told you to drink that much?” He curled his lips in disdain. “Anyone who offers you a drink, you just take it.”

Gu Qianxing seemed to chuckle. “So you noticed everything.”

Yu Ju pressed his lips into a thin line.

He wanted to slap himself.

Gu Qianxing then asked, “What’s that in your hand?”

Yu Ju looked down.

Oh.

Wasn’t this the necklace Gu Qianxing had given him?

Fantastic.

Yu Ju: “……”

Great. Now he had no excuse to refuse.

Yu Ju picked up his phone. “Where do you live?”

But Gu Qianxing didn’t answer. Instead, he played the good guy and asked, “What about you?”

Yu Ju sighed helplessly. “I’ll take you home first, then head back to campus.” After saying that, he added, “I didn’t drink a single drop. I’m perfectly sober.”

Then another add-on: “My head is not dizzy.”

And another: “I can go back on my own.”

And yet another: “Thanks for the necklace.”

Gu Qianxing acted as if he didn’t catch the sarcasm in Yu Ju’s words. He only responded to the last one: “You’re welcome.”

Yu Ju opened the ride-hailing app on his phone. “So, what’s the address, gege?”

Gu Qianxing seemed to pause for a moment, turning to look at Yu Ju.

Yu Ju froze as well.

He had just called him gege.

It had been a long time since he last called Gu Qianxing that.

Before he could dwell on it, a car slowly approached and came to a stop in front of them, breaking the moment.

Gu Qianxing took a long stride forward, opened the back door, and then took a polite step back. “Get in, Xiao Juhao.”

He smiled. “Take me home.”