This wasn’t the first time someone had told Chu Lai to move in with them. When the Cen family found out Chu Lai lived alone, they had suggested it too. In fact, when Cen Wei first proposed marriage, Chu Lai had already considered this possibility.

He personally didn’t mind moving, but he was reluctant to give up the three months of rent he had already paid and didn’t want to deal with subletting again. If Cen Wei weren’t his fake husband, perhaps Chu Lai would have simply said, “I don’t care about the money.”

But since they were legally married—though only pretending as spouses—he didn’t really have much say in these decisions.

When Xuan Rongqing found out that Cen Wei was driving to Chu Lai’s place every day, she had privately asked why they couldn’t just buy another place halfway between their companies. Of course, Cen Wei couldn’t exactly explain that he was going to Chu Lai’s place just to cuddle, not for anything more intimate, so he dodged the question.

In the end, without consulting him, Xuan Rongqing bought Chu Lai a house as promised. She hadn’t found the right moment to tell him, so she let Cen Wei handle it instead.

Originally, Cen Wei thought this day wouldn’t come until next year, but before the end of the year, Chu Lai’s current place was no longer an option.

Perhaps because Cen Wei had spoken so naturally, Chu Lai agreed just as quickly. After a few seconds of silence, Chu Lai chuckled and asked, “Are you sure?”

Cen Wei replied, “Of course. Though, my mom already bought you a house, but it won’t be ready for another two years.”

Chu Lai thought back to what Xuan Rongqing had said when they first met and stayed silent for a while. “You can keep it,” he said.

He looked out at the cityscape and reminded Cen Wei, “We’ll definitely be divorced in two years.”

The conversation ended there, and after hanging up, Chu Lai returned to his work. When he finished for the day, Liu Yuan called to invite him out for drinks. Chu Lai replied, “Maybe another time.”

Liu Yuan sounded surprised, “Why do you sound so down? Did work get to you? That’s not right—you’re usually the one making others feel that way.”

Chu Lai’s social circle was small. He rarely invited others out for meals and was perfectly content going to the movies or shopping alone, even visiting amusement parks by himself. Liu Yuan, who had known him for years, was probably the only one who could sense Chu Lai’s emotions.

Chu Lai asked, “Is it that obvious?”

Liu Yuan made a sound of acknowledgment, “So you really are upset. Who pissed you off?”

The only thing that came to Chu Lai’s mind was Cen Wei’s enticing suggestion, “Then move in with me.”

They had known each other for a little over a month and had essentially been seeing each other daily, except for the week when Cen Wei was away. Normally, Chu Lai’s routine was to meet Cen Wei at a subway station after work, get a ride back to his own place, have a quick meal, and then take Da Cai for a walk. Before parting, they would share a deep hug.

If Cen Wei was too busy, Chu Lai didn’t mind taking the subway to wait for him at his place. Sometimes they would stay over at each other’s apartments and head off to work the next day.

It was a very regular routine, and after 21 days, Chu Lai had perfectly formed a new habit.

For the first time in a while, Chu Lai found himself looking forward to “tomorrow.” As he watched the crowd of people leaving work, a sudden ache tightened in his chest, and he unconsciously tugged at his scarf.

He didn’t mention any of this to Liu Yuan and instead told him about the situation with his apartment.

Liu Yuan was a thousand percent shocked. “Something like this can actually happen? The landlord’s daughter is getting married next year and the place still needs to be renovated, but what about you? You signed a contract!”

Over the years, Chu Lai had moved many times and gained a lot of experience in avoiding rental pitfalls. This kind of situation was both a headache and a waste of time and energy. In the past, he would have quickly accepted compensation and started looking for a new place, maybe even staying in a cheap hotel for a few days while he searched.

Even with a friend like Liu Yuan, Chu Lai would never ask to crash at someone’s place.

Liu Yuan, sounding anxious, asked, “What are you going to do? It’s Friday, and you have to move out by Sunday?? That’s ridiculous. Why don’t you stay with me for now?”

Chu Lai responded, “I’ll be staying at Cen Wei’s place.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end before Liu Yuan let out a long “ohhh” and said in a knowing tone, “I almost forgot you’re a married man now.”

The weight of the term “married man” felt heavy, even to Chu Lai, who still didn’t feel like he was actually married. What he had now was more like a close online friend he could message freely, and a cuddle partner with a flexible schedule.

Not quite lovers, not exactly spouses.

They should’ve been more like colleagues, but even that didn’t seem right.

A strange in-between—legally married, yet pretending to be husbands.

Liu Yuan said, “I remember you telling me that the distance from Cen Wei’s place to your company is about the same as from your current place, right?”

Chu Lai hummed in agreement, and in the background, he could hear the sound of a subway arriving. Liu Yuan added, “Let’s hang out another time. You probably wouldn’t have bothered me even if you weren’t married. I’m used to it by now.”

His tone was like that of a concerned elder, “You’ve been in a pretty good state lately. I watched your live stream playback the other day, and even your fans were saying you’ve become more personable since getting married. I feel the same way.”

He paused before continuing, “Anyway, it’s perfectly reasonable to let Cen Wei help you with this. Don’t worry about being a bother.”

Chu Lai replied, “It’s different. We’re just…”

He thought back to his team asking when they’d get his wedding candies and sighed, “We have an agreement.”

But getting divorced was more complicated than getting married. People would ask why, and they’d have to announce the divorce. Even though Chu Lai had no close family ties and lived a solitary life, he still couldn’t escape certain social obligations.

Liu Yuan had always thought the two of them were a good match. From what he’d observed during their last hotpot dinner, Chu Lai seemed happier with Cen Wei than he ever did with Shen Quanzhang.

Normally, Chu Lai was like a pot of plain water—calm, with no signs of boiling. But even plain water had variations, from cool water to warm. And right now, Chu Lai was warm.

Liu Yuan voiced his agreement but found himself silently hoping for Chu Lai’s water to boil over, perhaps in excitement.

Maybe Chu Lai had been too lonely. Even as his only friend, Liu Yuan couldn’t provide the kind of emotional feedback a romantic partner could.

“But lovers are different. You only have one, and the same goes for marriage.”

Liu Yuan said, “Alright, I’ll let you go. Just remember to take me out for a drink after you move.”

Chu Lai agreed and hung up the phone. Standing outside his office building, he was about to head to the subway station when it started raining.

He hadn’t brought an umbrella, so he jogged toward the nearest corner. But just as he turned, he spotted a familiar figure standing by the side of the road.

Cen Wei’s height and impeccable posture made him stand out, like a living mannequin. The Cen family had a unique, elegant aura about them, reminiscent of aged wood.

During one of their dinners, Chu Lai had heard Grandpa Cen talk about how he used to make paper umbrellas with his father when he was younger. Maybe that’s where this aura came from.

Cen Wei had studied abroad and even started a handmade umbrella studio overseas.

In the few meals they’d shared over the past month, or while walking the dog, they’d chatted casually. Chu Lai had never traveled abroad, nor had he taken many trips, so it was easy for him to get absorbed in Cen Wei’s stories.

He told tales of European umbrella workshops from 1854, with seventy steps in the production process, and of national treasure-level umbrella brands favored by certain royal families, describing their unique shapes.

There were also modern designers creating asymmetric umbrellas—another world Chu Lai had never encountered before.

They never seriously talked about the past, and Cen Wei wasn’t like the older colleagues Chu Lai had met at work, who liked to show off. He spoke casually, and even someone as resistant to change as Chu Lai couldn’t help but feel a rare sense of longing while listening.

The man standing under the streetlamp held an umbrella, the rainwater illuminated by the soft light.

His shadow stretched long under the lamplight, making him look like a figure from a painting. Even passersby couldn’t help but steal a glance.

After all, everyone liked beautiful things. Chu Lai stood there, watching in the drizzle, admiring him for a few seconds.

Eventually, Cen Wei noticed him and strode toward him.

One step, two steps, three steps.

He didn’t need to take a fourth or fifth step because Chu Lai started walking toward him too.

When Chu Lai was pulled under the umbrella, the man said, “Didn’t warn you—any issues with that?”

Chu Lai’s bangs were wet with rain, making the rainwater look soft and fuzzy.

Everything about Cen Wei exuded a sense of luxury, and even the umbrella looked expensive. The handle was made of high-quality ebony, and when Chu Lai looked closer, he noticed the top of the umbrella was shaped like a black cat.

With one arm around Chu Lai’s shoulders, Chu Lai asked, “Which part didn’t you warn me about?”

“Not asking your permission before coming to pick you up,” Cen Wei replied.

“Or,” the man paused, “not asking before pulling you under the umbrella?”

Chu Lai chuckled, “I like your spontaneous decisions today.”

He asked, “You didn’t walk here, did you?”

“No, but since you’re moving, I figured I should come help.”

He smiled, “I couldn’t park around here, so the car’s across the street. Let’s go.”

The rain had come unexpectedly. As they walked, Chu Lai commented, “I checked the weather forecast, and it didn’t mention rain. I even took my umbrella home yesterday.”

Compared to Grandpa Cen’s stretched Lincoln, even Cen Wei’s Mercedes-Benz felt low-key, and Chu Lai didn’t feel the least bit embarrassed getting into it.

Outside, the world was filled with the sound of rain. The scenery blurred as it sped past the windows, while the car’s speakers played a song in a foreign language. Cen Wei said, “I guess I came at just the right time, didn’t I?”

Chu Lai nodded, “I was just getting into running stance.”

“So why didn’t you run?” asked Cen Wei.

Chu Lai unlocked his phone to book a moving company and replied naturally, “Because you showed up.”

The green light was counting down its last five seconds, and Cen Wei nearly missed it. Fortunately, the car stopped just in time.

He realized something had shifted within him—a subtle change that made him frown slightly, uncomfortable with this newfound feeling.

The man in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware, was busy calculating the cost of the moving company.

Chu Lai was someone who knew how to live.

In the past month, they had gone out for meals, eaten at each other’s places, and once even shared a simple meal on the balcony—grilled green peppers and cheap rice wine from the supermarket.

The rice wine was served in tiny thumb-sized glasses, but Chu Lai just drank whatever was left in the bottle after Cen Wei had poured his.

They listened to the sound of the peppers sizzling on the grill, the rustling of the autumn leaves outside, and the occasional chat of other residents downstairs. Their conversation flowed casually, with no real direction.

Chu Lai’s routine wasn’t strict, but he was consistent. Above all else, meals took priority.

At first, Chu Lai didn’t talk much about work, but over time, little by little, it was like a door that had been stuck for a month, finally blown open by the wind, leaving a crack.

He would talk about his gossipy coworkers, how he ran into his boss while slacking off, and how the men’s restroom seemed to have more gossip than the women’s.

He would laugh about a coworker who became a live-in son-in-law and got a call at 6:30 AM from his mother-in-law, demanding he come to breakfast, or mention whose dog had such a temper that it pooped by the bed.

Chu Lai wasn’t as cold as he seemed. He was observant, not that talkative, but definitely not emotionless.

Once, Cen Wei had even caught him sitting in the passenger seat, eyes brimming with tears, donating to a patient’s fundraiser he had seen online.

At that moment, Chu Lai asked, “What should we eat tonight?”

His company didn’t provide dinner on Fridays, and although Cen Wei’s company had a cafeteria, as the boss, he usually had meals delivered.

Chu Lai had crashed his dinner delivery twice before.

The green light turned on, and they were only a kilometer away from their destination.

Cen Wei’s heart softened—a feeling so unfamiliar that he wanted to resist it, but he found it hard to go back to the way things were.

He kept his eyes on the road, while Chu Lai remained focused on his phone, unaware that Cen Wei had tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

Cen Wei asked, “What do you feel like eating?”

“How about udon?” Chu Lai suggested. “I still have some in the fridge, but we’ll need to stop by the corner store to pick up some bok choy.”

He remembered that Cen Wei didn’t like fish tofu, “I have some fish tofu left too, but I’ll have to cook that separately if you’re eating with me.”

They parked the car and walked to the store together.

At this time, many people were coming home from work. Chu Lai only bought a couple of things and, while paying, added a box of chocolates to his basket.

Cen Wei asked, “Why didn’t you grab that last time?”

Chu Lai, holding the groceries, casually opened the box, “I saw a little girl in front of me last time, and she bought one of every flavor. I figured it must be good.”

Having attended a regular high school, Cen Wei still had the lifestyle of a wealthy young master. “Why not buy all the flavors yourself?”

The soft-featured Chu Lai shook his head, “No need. I’m not much of a snacker anyway. A box of five will last me a long time.”

Outside, the cold wind blew, lifting the tassels on Chu Lai’s scarf and ruffling his bangs. Cen Wei looked at him for a few seconds and said, “Liar. Last time, Da Cai pulled a bag of spicy sticks out from under your bed.”

With his deep, gravelly voice, the way he said “liar” felt almost comically at odds with his usual demeanor.

Chu Lai laughed, “Can’t you just let me have this one?”

“Alright Chu Lai paused, “I don’t usually buy a whole series. I like to leave something for next time.”

“Next time.”

Cen Wei couldn’t help but say, “Then I’ll buy it next time.”

Chu Lai glanced at the shadow of Cen Wei holding the groceries, the streetlamp elongating it. Nodding as if it were only right for Cen Wei to compensate for his family’s disruption to his life, Chu Lai replied, “Sure, you buy it next time.”