“A bit disdainful,” Song Mianfeng spoke frankly, “So you need to take care of your health and live a Longevity, up to a hundred.”

Lu Yin Zhen looked at Song Mianfeng, momentarily lost in thought.

He was born burdened with karma, born into hatred, and lived in hatred. Even his name bore the bloody stigma.

Living to a hundred, what a beautiful wish.

But apart from his grandfather’s firm attitude in taking him away from the Lu family to raise him, his grandmother’s prayers for him while practicing abstinence, who else hoped he could live to a hundred?

Even he himself didn’t want to live that long.

He just wanted to see his father, who had a successful career and a happy family, face his downfall, torn apart and abandoned by everyone, to comfort his mother’s spirit in heaven.

As for how long he could live after completing these tasks… it didn’t matter.

However, now, Song Mianfeng said, “I hope you live to a hundred.”

The seed in his heart, whether it was joy or fondness, or mistaking goodwill for love, regardless, it absorbed nutrients recklessly and grew rampantly.

As the murky and unclear emotions dispersed, Lu Yin Zhen’s eyes brightened, shining more brightly than all the dazzling starry skies Song Mianfeng had photographed.

He said, “Alright.”

If you wish for me to live to a hundred, then I will definitely live well.

After watching the stars, Song Mianfeng drove Lu Yin Zhen home.

Lu Yin Zhen’s residence was not far from the office where he worked, in an upscale neighborhood with a quiet environment and bright streetlights that dimmed even the moon and stars.

Dropping him off downstairs, they bid polite farewells.

Lu Yin Zhen asked him, “Would you like to come up for a while?”

Song Mianfeng raised an eyebrow and smiled, “No need. I’m quite audacious; I’m afraid I might scare you.”

With that, he waved his hand, started the engine, and left gracefully.

They had talked enough for today; there was no rush to take things further at this point.

…

Time flew, and it was already the thirtieth.

Lu Yin Zhen was on a business trip, and the two were separated by an ocean, with inverted day and night.

In the morning, when Song Mianfeng woke up, he habitually sent a “good morning” message to Lu Yin Zhen. When he arrived at the studio, he received a reply: a photo of a hotel high-rise with floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the colorful and bustling city lights of the night.

And two words, “good night.”

It was 9 a.m., which meant it was 1 a.m. in State J of Country M.

Song Mianfeng sighed, thinking that Lu Yin Zhen was probably busy until this hour, feeling somewhat worried about his health.

He replied with a “good night” and added, “Rest well and take care of yourself,” before putting away his phone and starting work.

In the afternoon, he had to go to the airport to pick up Fu Qingshan, so he left work early. Thinking that he had ample time to get to the airport, he didn’t expect traffic on the way. He rushed to the airport, barely making it on time.

At the exit, he saw a man wearing a hat, mask, and black sunglasses, dragging a suitcase and following the crowd out.

Parking the car steadily on the side of the road, Song Mianfeng rolled down the window and honked at him.

Fu Qingshan put his luggage in the trunk, got into the car, and then took off his glasses and mask.

Song Mianfeng glanced at him through the rearview mirror, skipping the usual pleasantries and asking directly, “Home first or dinner first?”

“Let’s go home,” Fu Qingshan leaned back in his seat, finding a comfortable position, and turned his face to one side, closing his eyes. “I’m too tired. I’ll take a nap. Wake me up when we get there.”

Fu Qingshan was known in the industry for his hard work. For 365 days a year, when he wasn’t filming, he was either on his way to film or on his way home. Song Mianfeng was used to seeing him fall asleep like this when he was exhausted, so he didn’t say anything, just focused on driving towards Fu Qingshan’s house.

Fengchun Mountain was located in the suburbs, and the Fengchun Villa at the foot of the mountain was developed by the Lu Group and was a villa area where only the rich and famous live.

Fu Qingshan was both rich and famous.

The car stopped at the entrance of the villa, and Song Mianfeng got out of the car, opened the rear door, and woke Fu Qingshan up: “We’re here.”

Fu Qingshan, in a daze, reached out to put on his mask as he prepared to get out of the car, but Song Mianfeng stopped his action: “Friend, wake up, we’re home.”

Fu Qingshan paused for a moment, slightly opened his eyes to adjust to the light, and then realized that they had already arrived at the doorstep.

Song Mianfeng took the luggage out of the trunk, and Fu Qingshan also woke up.

Getting out of the car, Fu Qingshan took the luggage from Song Mianfeng’s hand and walked towards the house, gradually regaining his senses.

He took a look around his own home, as if he were getting used to the familiar yet unfamiliar environment, then took a deep breath and headed upstairs with his suitcase: “You wait here for a while. I’ll go upstairs to put the luggage away and change clothes.”

Song Mianfeng stood on the balcony for a while, and Fu Qingshan came downstairs after changing his clothes.

He was wearing a black hoodie, jeans, and white sneakers, a simple and youthful attire. The black baseball cap and mask concealed his overly handsome features, making it impossible to tell that he was a frequent star of popular dramas.

There were several upscale restaurants near Fengchun Villa, specially designed for the wealthy, with excellent food and high privacy. Following the principle of proximity, the two chose a Cantonese-style tea restaurant nearby for dinner and began to chat about recent events.

Fu Qingshan said, “I plan to take a break for a while.”

“Did the sun rise from the west?” Song Mianfeng exclaimed in surprise. “The workaholic actually said he’s going to take a break.”

“As you know, I’ve been planning to transition in the past two years, so I didn’t take any TV dramas for the second half of the year, just a movie called ‘Phoenix Flying,'” Fu Qingshan said helplessly. “I originally planned to finish filming ‘Phoenix Flying’ and then take a break, but unexpectedly, because of the Qin Zong incident… Director He hasn’t found a suitable male lead yet, so ‘Phoenix Flying’ will probably be delayed.”

“So I decided to start my vacation early.”

From his debut until now, Fu Qingshan has won quite a few awards for his TV dramas, but he has never had a representative work in movies. Over the past few years, working hard and filming, he was indeed tired.

Approaching his thirties, he wanted to disappear from the audience’s sight for a while, take a break, and adjust his state. Whether the transition was good or bad, he didn’t know, but he followed his heart and accepted all possibilities.

“That’s good,” Song Mianfeng poured a cup of tea and took a sip. “Since you’re not lacking money, why work so hard?”

“What about you?” Fu Qingshan asked, “How have you been recently?”

“Me…” Song Mianfeng pondered. The only recent change in his life was probably meeting Lu Yin Zhen. “I’ve met someone very interesting recently.”

“Oh?” Fu Qingshan raised an eyebrow. “Is he interesting, or are you interested in him?”

Song Mianfeng smiled. “Both.”

Fu Qingshan was a little surprised and tentatively asked, “When are you going to invite him out for dinner?”

“Let’s wait and see,” Song Mianfeng paused before continuing, “It’s not the right time yet.”

Fu Qingshan asked him when he would invite the person out for dinner just to test whether he was serious or not. If he refused outright and didn’t intend to introduce him to his friends, it was just for fun; if he accepted, then it was serious, and they were going to be together for the long haul.

Of course, Song Mianfeng was serious, but his relationship with Lu Yin Zhen wasn’t at the stage where he would introduce him to friends yet.

Besides, he and Lu Yin Zhen hadn’t even had a few meals together alone, so there was no need for Fu Qingshan to join in the fun.

After dinner, Song Mianfeng returned home and took out his phone, only to find several unread WeChat messages – all from Lu Yin Zhen.

There were “good morning” messages, as well as an explanation that he had a dinner appointment after finishing a project yesterday, which was why he returned to the hotel so late. He even made a point to add, “Didn’t drink any alcohol.”

The last message was a photo, probably taken casually while passing by a photo studio.

Song Mianfeng replied with a question mark.

[Longevity: It’s a bit different from your studio.]

Seeing the reply, Song Mianfeng suddenly smiled.

He sent a voice message, saying, “Do you miss me?”

Words were so interesting. “I miss you,” and “Do you miss me?”, just a few words different, yet the latter carried much more ambiguity and unspoken affection.

Lu Yin Zhen replied with a single word, “Hmm.”

Lowering his voice, Song Mianfeng spoke ambiguously, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Lu Yin Zhen said, “Okay.”

…

Two days later, at S City Airport, the same location but a different person walked out of the exit. The man waiting by the car straightened up and made a gesture for a hug.

In places like airports, it was very common and normal for friends to hug each other, even if they were two men.

Song Mianfeng gave Lu Yin Zhen a hug.

A warm hug.

Lu Yin Zhen heard him smilingly say, “Welcome back.”

This wasn’t Lu Yin Zhen’s first time taking a plane, nor was it the first time someone had picked him up. But it was the first time someone gave him a hug and said, “Welcome back.”

S City wasn’t his home, and he would leave sooner or later, so using the word “back” didn’t seem quite appropriate. But at this moment, he suddenly felt a sense of belonging.

This sense of belonging was given to him by Song Mianfeng.

After a brief hug, Song Mianfeng let go. Then, naturally, he took Lu Yin Zhen’s luggage and put it in the trunk.

Lu Yin Zhen was somewhat reluctant to leave Song Mianfeng’s embrace. Even after getting into the car, he still felt like the scent of Song Mianfeng lingered in his breath, making it hard for him to come back to his senses. He even forgot to fasten his seatbelt.

Song Mianfeng glanced at him, caught sight of his slightly flushed ears, and felt mischievous. So he leaned over, very close, with one hand pressing against Lu Yin Zhen’s side and the other reaching for the seatbelt.

Lu Yin Zhen instinctively leaned back, but there was nowhere to go behind him, only the car seat.

A light laughter from the man fell on his neck, mixed with warm breath and the clean and pleasant scent of herbs.

Lu Yin Zhen grabbed Song Mianfeng’s wrist, met his smiling eyes, and softly reprimanded, “Don’t be naughty.”

The hand holding his wrist wasn’t too forceful, and Song Mianfeng easily fastened Lu Yin Zhen’s seatbelt. But the one who deliberately played tricks was him, and the one who complained first was also him. “Why are you so fierce?”