As the message popped up, the elevator dinged open again, and Fu Qingshan stepped out from it. He spotted Song Mianfeng leaning against the car door, waiting for him, and also noticed Zhou Yang, who had just opened the car door and was about to get in.

Fu Qingshan suddenly felt a headache coming on. He nodded slightly at Zhou Yang, then stepped towards Song Mianfeng.

Once they were in the car and Song Mianfeng had fastened his seatbelt, he asked, “What do you feel like eating?”

“There’s a good private restaurant nearby,” Fu Qingshan replied. “The food there is excellent.”

He had his assistant check in advance, so he straightforwardly mentioned the name of the restaurant to Song Mianfeng, who didn’t object. After setting the navigation, Fu Qingshan leaned over with interest and turned on the car music.

As soon as he pressed play, the melodious tunes of Peking opera filled the cramped interior of the car.

Fu Qingshan played several pieces of Peking opera, finally stopping at a song called “Qinhuai Scenery,” which was at least understandable: “Since when did you start listening to opera?”

Song Mianfeng started the engine. “It’s my boyfriend’s car.”

Fu Qingshan didn’t want to indulge in his veiled display of affection, so he leaned back, adjusted himself into a comfortable position, took out his phone, and opened Weibo.

After the gossip from Xia Chunjian had passed, people in the circle had been more restrained lately. Paparazzi couldn’t catch any sensational news, and the Weibo hot searches seemed rather quiet.

Fu Qingshan posted a photo taken during rehearsals, completing the task assigned by his manager, then switched to his alternate account and scrolled through the homepage until they reached the restaurant.

This private restaurant was owned by someone in the industry, so Fu Qingshan didn’t bother hiding himself too much. After all, it was scorching hot outside, and wearing a hat was already the greatest respect he could offer to his celebrity status.

Once they got out of the car, Song Mianfeng looked around and his gaze fell on a van parked across the street.

Fu Qingshan adjusted his cap and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Song Mianfeng furrowed his brows. “That van seems a bit suspicious. I feel like someone is taking photos of us.”

Fu Qingshan frowned upon hearing this. He glanced at the van across the street, but it was too far away for him to discern what was happening. However, considering Song Mianfeng’s keen sense of cameras, he nodded in acknowledgment. “Let’s eat first. I’ll ask my manager to handle it.”

The two of them entered the restaurant and got a private room. Fu Qingshan sent a WeChat message to his manager, asking him to check if they were being followed.

After taking a sip of tea, Song Mianfeng suppressed his frustration. “What did your manager say?”

“Paparazzi,” Fu Qingshan replied, sending another message to his manager before putting away his phone. “They are also being followed.”

“My manager said the paparazzi are targeting both me and Zhou Yang. But since I didn’t leave with him and came out to eat with you instead,” Fu Qingshan rubbed his temples, “it seems that there are two groups—one following me and one following Zhou Yang. The group following me was spotted by my manager, while the one following Zhou Yang arrived at the restaurant and ran into us.”

Fu Qingshan nodded. “TV dramas wouldn’t dare to script this.”

Song Mianfeng sighed.

“Oh, by the way,” Fu Qingshan remembered the main purpose amidst the chaos. He took out a small black box from his bag and handed it to Song Mianfeng.

Song Mianfeng opened the box and saw a translucent jade piece lying quietly inside, similar in shape to the one he was wearing.

“Thank you,” Song Mianfeng carefully put away the box, revealing a genuine and relaxed smile. “Dinner is on me tonight.”

Fu Qingshan took out two more boxes from his bag, one black and one red. “This is what you asked Zhanyue to give me. The other one is a joint gift from a few of us.”

Song Mianfeng hesitated for a moment. “…It’s nothing weird, right?”

“I picked them out,” Fu Qingshan raised an eyebrow, a hint of helplessness in his smile.

Song Mianfeng reached out and took them without opening them, simply placing both boxes into his bag. Then, as a substitute for alcohol, he clinked his cup with Fu Qingshan’s.

The dishes arrived soon after, and the conversation flowed smoothly. Over a pot of tea and several dishes, they spent over an hour and a half. When it was time to pay the bill, Song Mianfeng checked the time—it was past eight fifteen.

Sometimes coincidences seemed so uncanny that one might question if they were cursed. After settling the bill and turning around, Song Mianfeng saw Zhou Yang and several familiar actors and directors emerging from another private room. Men and women alike were chatting and laughing, creating a lively atmosphere.

Fu Qingshan had to go over to greet the people from the industry, so Song Mianfeng stood at the door waiting for him. The night breeze mixed with the cold air from the air conditioner blew on him, alternating between hot and cold, leaving an uncomfortable feeling.

At some point, Zhou Yang walked up to him, smelling of alcohol and cigarettes.

Song Mianfeng belatedly realized that Zhou Yang had changed a lot during the years they had been apart. So when he heard Zhou Yang hoarsely call him “ge,” he didn’t immediately register that Zhou Yang was addressing him.

Zhou Yang had been drinking, his mind muddled, and he accidentally blurted out the intimate term they used to use. He froze for a moment, then blinked, a thin layer of mist forming in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I mistook you for someone else.”

After speaking, he slightly squinted his eyes, shook his head, then pulled up his mask and walked towards his manager who was waiting not far away by the car door.

It seemed like he genuinely mistook someone else for him.

And he was genuinely quite drunk.

…

The Meng family had a regular and healthy routine. After ten o’clock, all the lights on the first and second floors were turned off, leaving only a faint glow emanating from one room. This faint light was obscured by the darkness, appearing cold and desolate. Indescribable emotions surged in Song Mianfeng’s heart, but he didn’t want to deal with them. He returned to his room, carefully stored away the gifts, took a shower, cleared his mind of negative emotions, then knocked on Lu Yin Zhen’s door.

Lu Yin Zhen had just finished bathing Bai Sui and was sitting cross-legged on a cushion in the small compartment between the bathroom and the bedroom, drying Bai Sui’s fur.

Bai Sui was too noisy in the bath, so Lu Yin Zhen hadn’t heard anything until Song Mianfeng walked into the compartment and sat down next to him.

“I’m back,” Song Mianfeng said, noticing the damp shirt and the water stains on his trousers. He furrowed his brows. “Let me handle it. You go take a shower. Don’t catch another cold.”

Lu Yin Zhen responded with an “okay” and handed Bai Sui, wrapped in a thick towel, to him. “Try to dry him as much as possible, then put him in the dryer. You don’t need to adjust the settings, just set the time for 40 minutes.”

Song Mianfeng took over the task of drying Bai Sui’s fur. Although his movements were a bit clumsy, Bai Sui obediently allowed him to dry him off. Lu Yin Zhen didn’t say anything more and stood up to start unbuttoning his clothes.

As he was halfway through unbuttoning, as if remembering something, he reached out and touched Song Mianfeng’s hair.

Bowing his head to earnestly dry the cat, Song Mianfeng exposed a portion of his neck, the loose pajamas revealing the shape of his collarbone.

A warm touch came through his hair, and he glanced up at Lu Yin Zhen, smiling somewhat helplessly. “I’ve dried him.”

Long fingers lifted the soft hair and then released it, lightly stroking his head as if in praise.

Bai Sui meowed and wagged his tail. Song Mianfeng lowered his head, hiding the slight blush at the base of his ears, and urged softly, “You should go take a shower.”

Lu Yin Zhen chuckled softly, took off his damp shirt, tossed it into the laundry basket in the corner, and then walked into the bathroom.

The sound of the shower echoed out, and Song Mianfeng placed the dried Bai Sui into the dryer, set the timer, and glanced towards the sound of water. The small compartment was at a corner, so he couldn’t see into the bathroom, only hearing the water stop. He guessed that Lu Yin Zhen was probably applying body wash.

He really liked the scent of the body wash Lu Yin Zhen used, a refreshing and light scent of mint, just like Lu Yin Zhen himself.

After a while, the sound of water resumed. Song Mianfeng watched Bai Sui comfortably rolling around in the dryer and had a fleeting sensation as if the three of them—him, Lu Yin Zhen, and Bai Sui—had spent a lifetime like this.

Maybe they would continue like this in the future.

Song Mianfeng thought to himself, maybe this is how we’ll spend the rest of our lives.

^[1]Author’s Note: To avoid unnecessary controversy, let me clarify: Zhou Yang was the bottom, and Song Mianfeng (formerly) was the top. Zhou Yang pursued Song Mianfeng, initially moved by him, … Continue reading