Chapter 7

Yang Yunran felt this response was probably correct. Jiang Yi had no feelings for the original host; he only liked Yang Yunran for his money. If Jiang Yi truly loved him, how could the novel depict such a clean break, especially considering the vast differences in behavior between Yang Yunran and the original host? Jiang Yi’s sharp mind wouldn’t have missed these inconsistencies.

The question was simply about love.

No problem! Yang Yunran didn’t mind spending money. There’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world. Spending money to buy his muse for inspiration was well worth it.

However, Yang Yunran couldn’t spend too much.

After all, he had debts to pay, the live broadcast hadn’t started making money yet, and he had to support Zhao Youmo with spare change.

The next morning, the first thing Yang Yunran did was check his phone.

He received Jiang Yi’s morning greeting and a message returning the transferred money. The message was sent at seven o’clock.

What does this mean? Did he not want it? Was it too little for him?

Yang Yunran: “Morning. Don’t you want the transfer?”

Jiang Yi was jogging in the apartment gym, his tablet was connected to the treadmill screen. He was slightly out of breath, sweating on his forehead, and his legs were moving swiftly under his shorts as he glanced at rapidly scrolling experimental data. A message popped up, and Jiang Yi slowed his pace, picking up his phone to type: “No need.”

Yang Yunran probably wanted money for a meal or something to spend time with him.

Jiang Yi thought he might be too lonely.

Receiving the message in the morning left him a little stunned.

Jiang Yi replied patiently to Yang Yunran: “Use it to buy yourself something to eat.”

Yang Yunran thought Jiang Yi might indeed find it too little. Ten thousand yuan, asking him to buy something to eat—wasn’t that akin to “this money is just small change”?

On one hand, Yang Yunran felt Jiang Yi had a big appetite, though it didn’t show on the surface. On the other hand, he speculated randomly. How much had he charged Jiang Yi before?

They were engaged in scientific research, and Yang Yunran had some understanding. One experimental instrument alone could cost hundreds of thousands to millions.

Had the original host donated instruments to Jiang Yi before??

Well, since he didn’t want it, Yang Yunran was ready to freeload first. He had already recharged the money, and the service was up to standard. So he straightforwardly asked Jiang Yi to come and pick him up for lunch before noon.

Jiang Yi: “Okay.”

Yang Yunran: “I need to review in the afternoon. I want you to accompany me. Will you be at home or outside in the afternoon?”

As expected, he lacked companionship.

Jiang Yi paused to drink water, his forearm slender with visible muscles, as he typed back with one hand: “Playing basketball in the afternoon. You go to the library.”

Yang Yunran: “I don’t want to. I want to review with you at the court. Are you playing in a basketball game?”

“No, tennis.” Maintaining high levels of concentration for long periods was essential for experiments. Jiang Yi came to the gym every day and played ball with classmates on weekends. Before Yang Yunran came to find him, there was no meal with kids or shuttle service in his life.

Yang Yunran was a bit clingy, which caused him some trouble.

As noon approached, Jiang Yi had no time to shower before going to pick up Yang Yunran.

Yang Yunran had just finished his broadcast. It was morning in New York, which meant it was evening in Beijing, a busier time. He casually livestreamed singing a few songs. Dozens of people joined the livestream, and some sent gifts in the barrage.

“This singing resonates with my soul!! The host sings so well!”

“What are these songs called?? I haven’t heard any of them?”

“Such a divine performance!!”

His unique singing style filled his lyrics with a sense of storytelling. Yang Yunran sang one of his original songs and covered several classic hits. Why hadn’t his fans heard of them?

He mentioned a few song titles and then prepared to end the broadcast. His voice was gentle and refined: “I’ll start the broadcast again tomorrow at 8 PM. If you want to hear something specific, just leave a message in the barrage, and I’ll prepare it.”

Zhao Youmo happened to return from walking the dog. Yang Yunran fed the dog and was about to leave with Zhao Youmo. Downstairs, Zhao Youmo asked him uncertainly, “Roy, are you singing live on the broadcast?”

“Yes,” Yang Yunran whispered, gesturing for him to keep it secret. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Jiang Yi’s car was parked along the street below the apartment building. He noticed Yang Yunran coming out with another guy through the rearview mirror. Jiang Yi glanced a bit longer and observed Yang Yunran taking out car keys from his bag and handing them to the other guy. “Take the car and use it, I won’t need it for a few days. Also, please fill it up with gas for me.”

Yang Yunran pulled out a few hundred dollars in cash and gave it to him. “Use the rest for dinner.”

Jiang Yi subtly furrowed his brow imperceptibly when he saw Yang Yunran giving money to the other guy, almost like giving a tip.

Soon after, Yang Yunran came over briskly, clearly in a good mood. He got into the front passenger seat with his backpack. He was dressed casually today in shades of off-white and beige, his hair smooth, and he looked quite young. Smiling broadly at Jiang Yi, he said, “Jiang Yi! Good noon.”

Jiang Yi replied calmly, “Good noon. Is that your friend?”

Yang Yunran considered for a moment before answering, “Sort of.”

Jiang Yi didn’t ask further and said, “I’m going back to change clothes. After lunch, I’ll head to the court in the afternoon.”

Yang Yunran agreed, reading a book in the car and using Jiang Yi as a human translator for words: “HTTP, Jiang Yi, what does this abbreviation mean?”

Jiang Yi: “Are you studying marketing? Hypertext Transfer Protocol, HTTP.”

“Ah,” Yang Yunran suddenly realized, making a note of it. He asked Jiang Yi a few more questions, and Jiang Yi seemed like an encyclopedia, knowing everything.

“You’re really knowledgeable, you know everything,” Yang Yunran said.

Jiang Yi remained non-committal.

Back at the apartment, Jiang Yi made a simple stir-fry for him to eat. Yang Yunran obediently sat in the living room, reading.

He heard the sound of water running in Jiang Yi’s bedroom as he showered. Feeling drowsy, Yang Yunran leaned against the sofa, his eyes closely inspecting English words. Gradually, the letters began to swirl before his eyes, and Yang Yunran closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

Jiang Yi came out with wet hair and dressed. Yang Yunran had already tilted his head and fallen asleep hugging a pillow, with a book still under his face.

Approaching him, Jiang Yi observed Yang Yunran’s fair skin, exuding a pampered milky-white complexion, suggesting a well-mannered upbringing and a privileged background.

Jiang Yi turned up the heating and fetched a blanket to cover him. At that moment, Yang Yunran’s phone, which was charging nearby, lit up. Jiang Yi glanced down and saw:

“Matching successful! Adam_RR has sent you an exciting message, reply to him now~”

It was a dating app with a blue logo. However, “HE”?

The word “HE” in the message indicated it was a system notification from the app, and it couldn’t have been sent to the wrong person.

Was Yang Yunran dating a guy?

Jiang Yi looked at him again. Yang Yunran slept peacefully and cutely, barely moving, his nose making even, steady breathing sounds. He clutched the pillow tightly, like a puppy lacking a sense of security.

Jiang Yi adjusted the curtains slightly to not disturb his sleep, then returned to his room to work on his thesis, leaving the door open. If the technology of gene stem cell regeneration could reach clinical levels for complex tissue and organ regeneration in humans, it would be a topic worthy of the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine.

However, the difficulty was that after three years of research and thousands of experiments, he was stuck just before the finish line. It seemed within reach, yet it remained thousands of miles away.

The computer emitted a light tapping sound as he typed for an hour. Yang Yunran was still asleep, but Jiang Yi’s meeting time was approaching.

He walked out of the bedroom in slippers and saw Yang Yunran sleeping soundly, his soft eyelashes casting shadows under his eyes.

Although Jiang Yi had only one roommate who had returned to China, it was still inappropriate to have Yang Yunran sleeping in the living room.

“Yang Yunran?” Jiang Yi called softly, but got no response. After staring at him for a few seconds, Jiang Yi squatted down, wrapped him in a blanket, and intended to carry him back to bed.

Yang Yunran woke up, blinking with eyes not fully awake, meeting his boyfriend’s gaze.

“Jiang Yi…” His voice was weary and hoarse, “I’m tired. Did you call me?”

Jiang Yi immediately refrained from carrying him, noticing the mistiness even in his artificial right eye. In a low voice, he said, “I’m going to the court. Are you going home or sleeping here?”

Yang Yunran, with a nasal tone, replied, “I’m not sleeping with you. Can’t do it.”

Jiang Yi: “…”

Jiang Yi stood up, staring down at him with dark pupils.

Yang Yunran yawned, completely unaware of what he had just said, and asked Jiang Yi to help him find his bag: “Where’s my backpack… where is it?”

Jiang Yi picked up the backpack from beside the sofa, wordlessly stuffed the books that were serving as his pillow into it, and headed downstairs. Yang Yunran followed him like a sleepwalker, lightly leaning against him at times, boneless like a koala or a marsupial. Jiang Yi pushed him away. Yang Yunran remained oblivious until they exited the student dorms and he felt the cold wind.

Seeing that Yang Yunran had no intention of explaining himself, Jiang Yi said nothing and simply led him toward the library.

Yang Yunran, puzzled, asked, “Why are we going to the library? Aren’t you going to the court?”

“Yang Yunran,” Jiang Yi called him by his full name, “if you want to study, study; if you want to watch the game, watch the game. Which one?”

“I want to do both, study and watch you,” Yang Yunran replied with a hint of enigmatic attitude, causing Jiang Yi to furrow his brows slightly.

“Then stay in the library,” Jiang Yi stood tall, his gaze coldly directed downward, “I’ll come to get you after I finish playing.”

Yang Yunran tilted his head, thoughtful for a moment, unsure of what he had figured out, and said, “Oh, okay then.”

Yang Yunran thought Jiang Yi might be terrible at tennis and didn’t want to ruin his athlete image in front of him, finding it amusing. Well, forget watching the game then; studying required a certain attitude, and mixing love with studying was not feasible.

“Which court are you at?” he asked.

“McDonnell,” Jiang Yi replied, taking him to a separate room for group assignments. After ensuring he was settled with his books for review and had called for assistance, Jiang Yi left.

During the holiday, with few people on campus, Yang Yunran studied diligently in the quiet school library.

On the tennis court, Jiang Yi played aggressively, winning 6:0, his hand vibrating with pain. His doubles partners looked miserable, “Evan, why are you playing so hard today? You’re practically trying to kill someone; we can’t even return your shots!”

In the evening, Jiang Yi didn’t cook; he took Yang Yunran out for Chinese food and then escorted him home, accompanying him to walk the dog.

After returning home, Yang Yunran would send voice messages saying good night, his tone as if speaking from under the covers, tickling Jiang Yi’s ears.

This routine continued for several days. Yang Yunran would send Jiang Yi both morning and night greetings. When he showered, he’d say, “I’m going to shower now,” and before sleeping, “I’m going to close my eyes.” He’d inform Jiang Yi, “I’m in the library studying seriously, waiting for you,” or “My phone’s about to die, I forgot my power bank, Jiang Yi, remember where I am and don’t lose me.”

If Jiang Yi forgot to say good morning or good night, Yang Yunran would remind him, “You forgot to say it to me.”

It seemed as if he was being overly demanding.

Jiang Yi didn’t know where his patience came from to tolerate it, selectively responding to him. Despite suspecting something was off with Yang Yunran, he figured he was just lonely. Watching him study was his way of ensuring he stayed out of trouble and was accountable to Professor Chen.

And so it went.

This pattern continued until the 29th. Jiang Yi had booked an evening economy flight.

Yang Yunran accompanied him to the counter to change his boarding pass, secretly upgrading him. Jiang Yi refused, but Yang Yunran had already swiped his card to complete the upgrade, saying matter-of-factly, “Isn’t this better? It’ll make your long flight more comfortable. I’m worried you’ll hurt your back sitting for hours. I care about you.”

Jiang Yi’s expression remained neutral. “…Yang Yunran, my back is fine.”

“I know, I’m just worried,” Yang Yunran replied, “I didn’t mean to imply your back isn’t okay.”

Jiang Yi took a deep breath.

Yang Yunran hesitated, then looked at him again. “Is it really okay?”

“That’s enough,” Jiang Yi said with a slightly darkened expression, “It doesn’t matter.”

As he escorted him to the security checkpoint, Yang Yunran suddenly hugged him.

He wrapped his arms around Jiang Yi’s sturdy waist and rested his head against his chest.

“Jiang Yi, come back soon,” Yang Yunran’s hair carried the scent of jasmine, soft against his chin, like a lover.

Jiang Yi didn’t push him away, feeling tense. He remained motionless.

Then Yang Yunran rubbed against him in his arms and finally let go, leaving Jiang Yi empty-handed.

Jiang Yi stared at him wordlessly. Yang Yunran waved reluctantly, “Go through security, bye, have a safe trip.” There would be no one to cook for him anymore, sigh.

“Goodbye,” Jiang Yi murmured softly, then turned and walked away.

Looking back, all he could see was the crowd; he couldn’t spot Yang Yunran.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t rejected Yang Yunran’s embrace, or why he had intentionally flirted back. Perhaps because Yang Yunran hadn’t been direct, and he didn’t have concrete evidence.

But as he walked into the airport and during the half-hour wait to board, Jiang Yi inexplicably opened Google Play and searched for a gay dating app.

Predictably, among the top downloads, he saw the blue app he had seen on Yang Yunran’s phone.

—Yang Yunran was gay.

That settled it; there was no other possibility.

Jiang Yi felt uneasy. Over ten years, he had maintained a good relationship with Professor Chen, and now it might rupture because of Yang Yunran.

It might be an illusion, but Jiang Yi believed he hadn’t misunderstood.

As for Yang Yunran, he seemed to be pursuing Jiang Yi while acting as though they were already together, simultaneously using a dating app to match with strangers from Asian households.

So when Jiang Yi was about to board, facing Yang Yunran’s message asking, “Have you boarded yet?” for the first time, Jiang Yi chose to ignore him.