Song Mianfeng didn’t continue gossiping with Lu Changyin. He also didn’t check Weibo again. He knew that Li Xiaoman would release the recording tomorrow. When Xia Chunjian does another round of public relations, he would release the paternity test report. Of course, Xia Chunjian might still stubbornly deny that it’s fabricated. In that case, there was still Lu Changhao’s birth certificate waiting for her. Compared to solid evidence of a mistress and an illegitimate child, this kind of leverage from accompanying drinks was nothing. This drama on Weibo probably won’t come to an end for a few more days, but the outcome was foreseeable—Xia Chunjian was completely finished.

The two of them chatted lying down for a while longer until Meng Ze came upstairs to knock on the door, prompting them to get up and go downstairs for dinner.

Baisui had also woken up and was squatting at its own small table, with a bowl of cat food in front of it, happily eating. After finishing its meal, it curled up on the sofa, letting out a comfortable purr.

After dinner, Meng Yushan called Lu Yin Zhen to the second-floor study, while Song Mianfeng accompanied Mrs. Meng to take Baisui for a walk to aid digestion.

The study on the second floor was arranged according to Mrs. Meng’s preferences. The room was large, with two rosewood desks placed together near the window—one for Meng Yushan and the other for Mrs. Meng. A pot of bamboo sat on the windowsill, and the two walls facing the desks were lined with neatly arranged bookshelves. Several calligraphy and paintings hung on the side wall, while the sofa and coffee table were against the wall, and there was a phonograph in the corner.

Mrs. Meng used to be a translator when she was young, and she spent decades in the study. Therefore, everything in this study was arranged by Mrs. Meng herself. Even though Mrs. Meng had grown older and no longer translated books, and rarely visited the study, the room still retained its appearance from decades ago—forever neat and tidy, each item carrying special memories.

Meng Yushan made himself a cup of tea and then turned on the phonograph, playing a piece from “Locked Lin’s Pouch”. Amidst the melodious opera music, Meng Yushan’s gaze lightly fell on Lu Yin Zhen through the mist of tea vapor. “I thought you would wait until the anniversary of your mother’s death.”

After a brief silence, Meng Yushan sighed imperceptibly. “But it’s better to settle it earlier.”

Meng Yushan didn’t specify what it was, but Lu Yin Zhen understood. He was referring to Xia Chunjian.

“I originally planned to wait until the anniversary of my mother’s death…” Thinking of Song Mianfeng, Lu Yin Zhen couldn’t help but smile softly, “It was Mianfeng who took care of Xia Chunjian’s matter.”

Meng Yushan asked him, “What do you plan to do next?”

“Let’s just leave it at that.”

Meng Yushan’s tone was complicated. “You’ve softened quite a bit. Because of Mianfeng?”

Lu Yin Zhen smiled faintly but didn’t respond.

Meng Yushan sipped his tea and then took a sip. “How much does he know about your situation?”

“He knows everything.”

Meng Yushan nodded, looking at him, as if traversing the long years, he saw the little, frail child who didn’t even dare to be held tightly in his arms.

Blessed by heaven, the premature baby had now grown into a towering man, supporting the sky and sheltering others from wind and rain. Like a rootless duckweed finding a place to anchor, with someone in his heart, his heart settled down. In the days to come, even if he and his wife were to be separated from him, Lu Yin Zhen would still live well and have a long and good life.

Thinking so, his gaze became even warmer. “On the anniversary of your mother’s death, take Mianfeng to pay respects. I think he would be very happy.”

“I think he would be very happy.”

…

Song Mianfeng returned with Mrs. Meng after their walk, sweating all over. He was someone who feared heat in summer and cold in winter. He only felt like he had retrieved his life after taking a shower and turning on the air conditioner in the room.

Lu Yin Zhen had already taken a shower and was sitting at the bedside in loose pajamas, reading documents. He exuded a refreshing scent of mint, and Song Mianfeng lay down next to him, sighing comfortably. “I’ve come back to life.”

Lu Yin Zhen touched his hair, his long fingers gently running through the strands, and almost involuntarily, he pinched Song Mianfeng’s earlobe. “Your hair is still a bit wet, go blow-dry it.”

“I won’t.” Song Mianfeng’s face still carried the warmth from the blow dryer, and his ambiguous actions stirred up a fiery feeling in his heart, only the air conditioner could slightly cool it down. “I’m dead.”

“Weren’t you just revived a moment ago?” Lu Yin Zhen’s tone was helpless.

“Now I’m dead again.” Song Mianfeng turned to look at him. “Do you know what this is called?”

Lu Yin Zhen looked at him. “What?”

Song Mianfeng licked his lips and said slowly, “Dying and coming back to life.”

The meaning of this sentence was too ambiguous. Lu Yin Zhen’s eyes darkened slightly. He put down his iPad on the bedside table and leaned closer. The two of them were very close, and their lips brushed lightly as they spoke. “And now?”

Song Mianfeng’s Adam’s apple rolled slightly, and he said hoarsely, “Half-dead and half-alive, Mr. Lu, save me.”

Lu Yin Zhen chuckled, lightly kissed his lips, and then distanced himself. “Go blow-dry your hair. You’re not allowed on the bed until it’s dry.”

Song Mianfeng touched his lower lip and clicked his tongue softly. “You’re really boring.”

Although reluctant, Song Mianfeng still got up from the bed and walked towards the bathroom.

Mr. Lu, who was so boring, followed behind him, holding his hand when he reached for the hairdryer, and then picked up the hairdryer to blow-dry his hair.

Lu Yin Zhen’s movements were gentle, and the hot air brushed through his hair as his fingers moved, making Song Mianfeng squint his eyes. He felt calm, and the heat seemed to dissipate. However, his face gradually turned red.

Probably because of the hot air blowing.

The freshly dried hair draped softly over his ears, and Lu Yin Zhen used his fingers to comb it backward from the sides, pulling out a small tuft. “Your hair’s gotten a bit long.”

Song Mianfeng glanced at himself in the mirror on the washbasin. His hair had indeed grown quite a bit, and his bangs were already covering his eyes. He reached up to push his bangs back, revealing his forehead. Looking at his new style in the mirror, he turned his head from side to side, feeling quite handsome. “Trim the sides shorter, give me a slicked-back look. Cool.”

Lu Yin Zhen released his hand, turned off the hairdryer, and said, “Get another ear piercing and tattoo a sleeve, and you’ll be the coolest guy on the block.”

Song Mianfeng turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “So you like this style?”

Lu Yin Zhen tapped his forehead and said seriously, “I like your style.”

Lu Yin Zhen’s earnest expression when he spoke sweet words was really irresistible. Song Mianfeng felt like he had a tickling tree growing in his heart. Every time Lu Yin Zhen touched it, the leaves would tremble, creating ripples. He felt a bit uncomfortable and ruffled his bangs, blocking his flushed face. “I’m the coolest guy on the block even without ear piercings or tattoos.”

Perhaps because he had taken a nap in the afternoon, Song Mianfeng didn’t feel sleepy at all when he lay back on the bed.

While Lu Yin Zhen was reading documents, Song Mianfeng lay playing with his phone. In the WeChat group chat, Wang Letian and Wu An were discussing the gossip on Weibo, while Fu Qingshan posted a picture of late-night snacks, diverting the topic to midnight snacks.

[Your Fourth Lord: Image]

[Your Fourth Lord: @Letian knows his fate, this is for you.]

[Letian knows his fate: Love you!]

[Wu Director: Heh, a pair of gay men.]

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: What gift should I give my boyfriend for his birthday?]

[Fourth Lord: Clean yourself up and get in bed.]

[Letian knows his fate: Give yourself.]

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: ……]

[Fu Qingshan: Watches, bracelets, rings, cufflinks, ties, wallets, perfumes, skincare products, razors, lighters…]

[Wu Director: You might as well not have said anything.]

[Your Fourth Master: @Letian knows his fate, learn something.]

[Letian knows his fate: Giving you face? I’ll give you freedom.]

[Your Fourth Master: Break up just like that?]

[Wu Director: Flirting and cursing, warning for blocking.]

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: He doesn’t often wear watches or accessories, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t use perfumes or skincare products, doesn’t need razors, his cufflinks, ties, wallets, shirts, and suits are all custom-made. Is it too early to give a ring?]

[Fu Qingshan: Wishing you happiness.jpg]

[Wu Director: Maybe if you give it to him, he’ll start wearing it.]

[Wu Director: Or if he gives you a piece of jade, you can give him one too.]

[Letian knows his fate: I remember that year we were gambling stones in City Y, you won a glass seed, is it still there?]

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: Still have it, after all, it was the first time I won in gambling, planning to keep it as a memento.]

[Wu Director: The glass seed you won yourself has extraordinary significance as a memento, it’s perfect as a gift.]

[Fu Qingshan: Businessman, carve a jade pixiu, it’ll bring wealth.]

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: Isn’t wealth too common? Is there anything for warding off disasters and ensuring safety?]

[Letian knows his fate: A Guanyin statue?]

[Your Fourth Master: A transfer bead?]

[Fu Qingshan: A longevity lock.]

[Wu Director: A longevity lock, it matches the one he gave you.]

Song Mianfeng was somewhat moved by this suggestion. He touched the longevity lock hanging from his chest and found a photo he had taken before, then shared it in the group.

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: @Fu Qingshan, can you find a skilled craftsman to carve one based on this?]

[Fu Qingshan: Send me more pictures, front and back, including all the details, the clearer the better, I’ll ask around for you.]

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: Let’s chat privately.]

He sent all the pictures he had taken previously for posting on his moments to Fu Qingshan. The sizes were a bit tricky. Song Mianfeng glanced at Lu Yin Zhen, who was working earnestly, and then excused himself to borrow the study’s computer under the pretext that Fu Qingshan needed a set of images.

Lu Yin Zhen didn’t think much of it and simply replied, “Hmm,” following him.

In Lu Yin Zhen’s study, Song Mianfeng found a soft ruler, took off the longevity lock to measure its size, then drew a simple diagram and sent it to Fu Qingshan.

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: Are these pictures okay?]

[Fu Qingshan: They’re fine, I’ll ask for you.]

After probably making a call, Fu Qingshan replied after about fifteen minutes, saying it could be carved, and asked when Song Mianfeng needed it.

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: His birthday is on the 9th, I reserved time to send the jade to me, before the 5th?]

[Fu Qingshan: Coincidentally, I have an event in City B on the 7th, I can bring it over for you.]

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: Did you take on a new role?]

After wrapping up “Phoenix flying” Fu Qingshan hadn’t taken on any new roles. Partly because he wanted to hone his acting skills for a transition and partly because he had injured his waist during the filming, requiring treatment and rest.

So, he had been resting at home for these two months, extremely idle.

[Fu Qingshan: Gotta eat even if not filming.]

[Fu Qingshan: My agent arranged for me to participate in a variety show, just one episode, and there’s also a photoshoot for a magazine, so I’ll probably be in City B for a day or two.]

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: That’s really fortunate.]

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: I’ll have Moon bring the glass seed to you tomorrow.]

[Fu Qingshan: Okay.]

After settling things with Fu Qingshan, Song Mianfeng opened a chat with Song Zhanyue and sent a cat emoji with the message “My little cutie, are you there?”

[Moon: What’s up?]

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: Can you bring the glass seed from the safe to Fu Qingshan for me tomorrow? You know the password. Also, the black gift box in my closet.]

[Moon: Remember to treat me to dinner when you come back.]

[Leisurely listening to the wind sleep: Agreed.]

With that off his chest, Song Mianfeng sent a red envelope to Song Zhanyue and another one in the group before heading back to his room in a great mood to sleep.