Cen Wei woke up because something was stepping on him.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. The most shocking part was the dog’s face inches away from him. The Shiba Inu wasn’t very big and had jumped onto the sofa, stepping on Cen Wei and making soft whining noises.

Still dazed, Cen Wei looked around. It was a one-bedroom apartment, filled to the brim with stuff, the complete opposite of minimalist—a home full of life’s traces. By the entrance, there was a display case full of collectible figurines, mostly blind boxes, revealing the owner’s hobbies.

He was still wearing the clothes from the previous night and felt around for his phone on the sofa. There was an unread WeChat message from an unknown contact. He opened it and saw the message:

“Mr. Cen, if you’re awake, could you please feed the dog? I’m almost late. Thanks a lot.”

The message had been sent more than forty minutes ago.

“Late.”

Cen Wei also had work, and it wasn’t until he checked his phone that he realized it was already 10:30 AM, with unread messages from his secretary waiting for him. The Shiba Inu whined again, showing no fear of strangers, even pawing at Cen Wei’s pants.

Cen Wei wasn’t fond of furry creatures and even felt a little scared of them. But feeling guilty for troubling someone else, he awkwardly shook the dog’s paw when it reached out again.

The tall man bent down submissively, “Hello.”

The dog jumped off the sofa and ran to its bowl.

Following Chu Lai’s instructions, Cen Wei found the dog food container and added some water. It was clear that Chu Lai had left in a rush that morning—one of the cups on the table was left uncovered, and a slipper was lying out of place.

Thinking of Chu Lai’s cold demeanor, Cen Wei suddenly felt that his appearance didn’t match this home at all.

Cen Wei had never been a good drinker, and after a long, tiring business trip, he hadn’t expected to get so drunk from just one drink after the breakup. He’d completely blacked out.

He wasn’t particularly upset about the breakup with Shen Ke—it had been inevitable.

Although Cen Wei needed to go to work today too, Chu Lai’s place was quite close to his office. So, he wasn’t in a rush. After making sure the dog had eaten, he sent an apology message to Chu Lai.

[Cen Wei]: Sorry, I troubled you.

[Cen Wei]: [Image] Your dog has a good appetite.

[Cen Wei]: [Video]

Chu Lai was exhausted from his extreme commute that morning. Normally, he didn’t care much about being late, but last month, his boss had suddenly started tracking attendance, and the whole team’s work hours had fallen below the average, forcing everyone to start showing up earlier.

By nature, Chu Lai was mild-tempered. At the subway exit, he clocked in on his phone before grabbing coffee and breakfast. His team, most of whom were hungover from the previous night’s company outing, looked like they were about to topple over, while Chu Lai was surprisingly the most energetic one.

As he rode the subway, Chu Lai began drafting a new email to his ex, Shen Quanzhang, hoping to settle the rent and have him move his things out. Even though he had sensed Shen Quanzhang’s stinginess during their relationship, Chu Lai hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time.

Chu Lai, like a snail, hated changes in his life. He figured that as long as his boyfriend was tolerable, it was fine. They didn’t need to compromise on everything, and since they weren’t planning to have children, they could both just make their own money and spend it as they pleased.

Yet somehow, Chu Lai ended up looking like the stingy one. The two of them spent over an hour exchanging emails, bickering over rent and belongings.

When Cen Wei’s message came through, Chu Lai had just put his phone down. Leaning back in his chair, he absentmindedly stared at his computer wallpaper, his fingers fiddling with the mouse.

The man he had brought home the night before was only just waking up. Chu Lai thought to himself, “Big guy for nothing.”

But seeing the dog photo lifted his spirits.

His life was simple: go to work, come home, walk the dog, have a relationship, and play some games. If he could retire early, that would be even better.

The video sent by Cen Wei was well-shot but taken from a distance, completely unlike most people who would have gotten closer to the dog for a video, as if he was trying to avoid it altogether.

Chu Lai didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he opened his phone and checked the home security footage. As expected, the tall man had filmed the dog while sitting on the sofa, likely zooming in.

Chu Lai chuckled to himself. “Is he afraid of dogs?”

Amused, he sent a quick reply thanking him.

[Cen Wei]: I should be thanking you for the trouble. Sorry about that.

[Cen Wei]: How much was the cab fare? I’ll send it to you.

When Chu Lai had brought him home last night, he was too exhausted to care. After his shower, he collapsed without even trying out the expensive new keyboard he had bought. Earlier, before arguing with Shen Quanzhang on the subway, he had sent a WeChat message to Cen Wei. Chu Lai didn’t really mind the cost of the barbecue, but Cen Wei insisted on fulfilling his promise from the drinking table.

Since they weren’t close, Chu Lai didn’t want to keep going back and forth about it, so he accepted the transfer and told Cen Wei to simply lock the door when he left.

Perhaps feeling a rare sense of fate between them, Chu Lai added a sentence: “Take care.”

After sending the message, Chu Lai thought of the accusations Shen Quanzhang had made in his emails. His ex had claimed that Chu Lai lacked human warmth, never gave compliments, and that their sex life was incompatible.

In summary: utterly boring.

Chu Lai wasn’t particularly hurt by the criticism. He admitted that he had little desire in that department.

People who knew them both said that Chu Lai and Shen Quanzhang were considered premium goods in their circle, at least in terms of looks and body shape. But relationships in their circle were often fleeting, and few people actually chose to marry.

Shen Quanzhang hadn’t come out to his family and avoided the topic of marriage. Looking back, their relationship had long been riddled with cracks, and there was no need to salvage it.

When buying that limited-edition keyboard, Chu Lai had even consulted his friend Liu Yuan. Just as Chu Lai was replying to Cen Wei, Liu Yuan messaged, asking, “How was it? Did you have a fun night? [Smirk]”

[Chu Lai]: We broke up.

[Liu Yuan]: WHAT?! Break up? What happened?!

The two of them had been college roommates in the same major, and Liu Yuan had witnessed Chu Lai and Shen Quanzhang’s campus romance firsthand. Though he sometimes teased them for lacking the typical fiery passion of young love, he also admired how they seemed to lead a steady life together.

Chu Lai stepped outside to take a call.

Liu Yuan’s voice sounded shocked. “What happened?! Why did you break up? I thought you guys were going to get married.”

He was more worked up than Chu Lai, nearly shouting, “You guys finally made it to the point where same-sex marriage is legal, and now this…”

Chu Lai, who felt nothing after a night’s sleep, spoke in a calm tone. “He cheated. I caught him in the act.”

Liu Yuan cursed. “No way! Did he bring someone else into your bed? What a scumbag!”

Chu Lai explained what had happened the night before.

Liu Yuan was speechless. “That sounds like one of those breakup stories that go viral on short video platforms.”

Chu Lai chuckled. “I thought the same.”

After a moment of silence, Liu Yuan asked, “Chu, why do I feel like you’re not even upset?”

Chu Lai candidly admitted, “I find it strange too.”

“Maybe it’s because Shen Quanzhang had mentioned before that he wanted to find someone wealthy. I make a decent salary, and my dad left me an apartment, but the location isn’t great, so it wouldn’t sell for much.”

“And I don’t want to sell it.”

As people get older, they inevitably face some anxieties. Chu Lai’s family situation was completely different from Liu Yuan’s.

Though both were gay, Liu Yuan couldn’t escape the pressure of matchmaking. Even after his parents accepted his sexuality, they still hoped he’d find someone well-matched.

Chu Lai, on the other hand, had lost his father in middle school. His mother remarried the following year, and Chu Lai lived with his grandmother. Unfortunately, his grandmother passed away the summer after his college entrance exams.

His relationship with his mother, who had a child with her new husband, was distant. He worked through college to cover tuition, with no help along the way. To have made it this far was already an accomplishment.

At first, Liu Yuan thought Chu Lai was cold and distant, despite his delicate and good looks. After getting to know him, he realized Chu Lai simply had an avoidant personality and didn’t know how to respond to others’ warmth and concern, which made him seem especially aloof.

Most people wouldn’t notice, but Liu Yuan knew Chu Lai well. Getting him to say he liked something was nearly impossible. But once Chu Lai said he liked something, it meant he liked it a hundred or a thousand times more than usual.

So when he chose Shen Quanzhang from the pool of suitors, Liu Yuan thought Chu Lai was ready to settle down.

Unfortunately, relationships often don’t last forever, and most end in separation.

Liu Yuan sighed. “You probably haven’t processed it yet. You’re like that—remember when your grandma’s watch broke, and it took you a week before you started feeling sad?”

“Scumbags are everywhere. If I see that jerk, I’m going to beat him up every time.”

Chu Lai laughed. “We’re both guys.”

Liu Yuan, recalling that they had been living together, asked, “So, have you sorted things out with Shen Quanzhang? He should at least return your rent, right?”

Chu Lai nodded. “I plan to move out soon, as quickly as possible.”

Liu Yuan eagerly offered, “I’ll help you find a new place. Once you’ve moved in, let’s have a drink to celebrate.”

Chu Lai didn’t mention running into Cen Wei at the bar.

To him, Liu Yuan and Cen Wei were in entirely different categories—one was a friend, the other a stranger. Besides, they were unlikely to meet again, so there was no point in bringing it up.

By the time Chu Lai got home from work that day, Cen Wei had already left without leaving a message. Their conversation ended with Chu Lai’s last words: “Take care.”

After that, their profile pictures slowly sank lower on their chat apps as time passed.

By the second weekend, Chu Lai and Shen Quanzhang had finally settled their disputes. When Shen came to collect his personal belongings, he was visibly upset, but Chu Lai remained indifferent.

Both had blocked each other’s emails, officially ending their three-year relationship.

It seemed like Shen wanted to say something, but Chu Lai was already walking away, quickly leading his dog. His back was cold and distant, and he didn’t even want to say goodbye.

Chu Lai’s new apartment was one subway stop closer to his company and a bit larger than the previous one. The complex had several company employees, with weekly events, and most importantly, his dog had new friends to play with.

Chu Lai was satisfied with his new life, though his friend Liu Yuan felt it was just an illusion.

By the third weekend, Liu Yuan invited Chu Lai to a bar, pinching his cheek and sighing, “Why do you look so haggard?”

Chu Lai, having changed out of his usual casual company attire, had removed his black-framed glasses, his slightly long bangs covering his eyes, making his gaze look a bit hazy.

In truth, Chu Lai was feeling a bit uncomfortable. The contact lenses Liu Yuan had recommended didn’t feel right, and he was itching to take them out. He suspected that Liu Yuan, now dating someone in the cosmetics business, was just trying to push products.

Chu Lai shook his head. “Just played too many games.”

Liu Yuan winked at him. “Or maybe it’s because you’re feeling lonely late at night?”

Chu Lai took a sip of his drink, giving him a side-eye. “Stop it.”

Liu Yuan slung an arm around his shoulder. “This bar is owned by Jiang Ge’s friend. Go ahead, pick any guy you like!”

Chu Lai didn’t even bother looking. “Too much trouble.”

Liu Yuan, frustrated, scolded him, “Can’t you be a little more proactive? I’ve known you for years—I know your habits. You’re asexual, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed. You’ve only dated that one guy, and Shen Quanzhang turned out to be trash. Don’t hang yourself on one tree.”

Chu Lai was indeed asexual, with peculiar tastes and an awkward personality. He wasn’t the type to take the initiative.

Liu Yuan, who had completely different preferences, liked muscular men, while Chu Lai preferred more refined, gentle types. Unfortunately, these types were rarer and often ended up becoming friends rather than lovers.

Chu Lai fiddled with his wine glass, spinning it between his fingers. Though his features were delicate, under the dim light, he exuded a unique atmosphere.

He was nothing like the more flamboyant patrons around him. Sitting there, Chu Lai was like snow falling on a volcano, naturally drawing people’s attention.

Even Cen Wei didn’t recognize him. His friend nudged him and said, “That one looks good.”

Having worked overtime for nearly half a month, and with the stress of his grandfather’s worsening illness and refusal to receive treatment, coupled with constant pressure to marry, Cen Wei had no interest in meeting new people. He had only come because he’d turned down the invitation too many times.

Jiang Liyong, his friend, asked, “Do you think I can get his number?”

At this, Cen Wei finally lifted his eyelids. Coincidentally, Chu Lai turned his head in their direction to speak. The well-dressed man, who always wore formal attire even in casual settings, was puzzled. “I think I’ve seen him before.”

Jiang Liyong laughed. “Seen him? You’re practically a monk these days—where could you have seen him? In your dreams?”

It was just a joke, but he led Cen Wei to a booth.

Jiang Liyong said, “Don’t worry too much. Your grandfather’s just anxious because of his illness, which is understandable.”

“Being the only one left in the family, he probably just wants to see you settle down. That’s how old people are.”

This issue had been weighing on Cen Wei’s nerves for a while. Jiang Liyong had invited him out precisely because he was worried about how tightly wound he had been lately.

As they chatted, something clicked in Cen Wei’s mind. He suddenly remembered the young man from the barbecue stall and the conversation they had about their ideal partner.

Opening WeChat, Cen Wei scrolled far down to find Chu Lai’s contact.

He sent three messages. The first said, “Hello, are you still single?”

The second, “If it’s convenient…”

And the third—

“Please marry me.”

The bar’s signal wasn’t great.

Chu Lai’s phone, placed beside him, vibrated. Liu Yuan was still introducing him to the new bartender, but Chu Lai wasn’t particularly interested. He glanced at the lock screen, showing a preview of the message—

[WeChat Notification]

[Blue Green Pepper]: Please marry me.

The bar was loud, and Chu Lai was feeling dizzy, his discomfort with the contact lenses adding to the sense that the words on his screen had a shadowy blur.

Liu Yuan had hit Chu Lai’s weak spot. Deep down, Chu Lai craved closeness and intimacy—hugs and cuddles meant more to him than anything else.

But just hugs and cuddles without sex were hard to maintain in a long-term relationship.

Which left only one option.

Marriage.

On a whim, Chu Lai replied with a single word: “Okay.”