The atmosphere was incredibly awkward.

The overseas returnee intern was quite good-looking and impeccably dressed. She had originally been a little interested in Shen Quanzhang, but now she instinctively took two steps back, fearing she might be dragged into this uncomfortable situation. She never expected that her flirtatious interest’s ex was actually the boss’s legal partner.

The team leader’s jaw still hadn’t closed, and his eyes darted between Shen Quanzhang, Chu Lai, and Cen Wei, thinking to himself, “Are young people’s relationships these days really this wild? This guy’s nerves are so strong! If I remember correctly, the boss already brought his partner to the company before, right? He sure kept a tight lid on it, not even the slightest hint.”

Shen Quanzhang hadn’t expected Cen Wei to just blurt it out. He instinctively glanced at Chu Lai, who was holding a dog, head down, gently stroking its ears, lost in thought. It had been a while since Shen Quanzhang had seen Chu Lai, and he could only catch glimpses of his life through his social media.

Chu Lai rarely live streamed anymore, mostly just posting game progress, but lately, his daily updates have become more frequent. Most of the posts were about food, clearly indicating meals for two people. That’s why, in the last photo where a hand was visible, people asked if it belonged to his partner.

Shen Quanzhang thought, “He never did this when we were together… What exactly didn’t he do?” It was then he realized that despite living together with Chu Lai, they had reached a point where there wasn’t much communication left between them.

There was a time when Shen Quanzhang was afraid to face Chu Lai. The daily requests for hugs felt like clocking in for a shift, and Chu Lai’s cold reactions to further intimacy made him seek relaxation elsewhere. Back when they lived together, Chu Lai paid most of the rent. Shen Quanzhang, as an intern with no money, contributed just a small amount. After they broke up, Chu Lai chased him for the money. Shen Quanzhang hadn’t paid him back in full when Chu Lai coldly replied, “You could always take out a loan to pay me back.”

That comment almost made Shen Quanzhang spit blood in anger. He was just about to retort when Chu Lai blocked him, as if disgusted to the point where he didn’t care about the money anymore.

Now, the wind outside was strong, lifting the drawstrings of Chu Lai’s jacket. He wore a sweater underneath, its design a pixel element from some game. The sweater was oversized, and even with the jacket draped over him, it made him look thin and frail. From this angle, Chu Lai didn’t seem any different from before—except for how close Cen Wei was standing, the overly intimate way he addressed Chu Lai, making Shen Quanzhang feel both irritated and bitter.

Shen Quanzhang let out a sound, watching the dog in Chu Lai’s arms. He reached out and said, “Da Cai, let dad take you out to play for a bit?”

The overseas intern inwardly cursed, thinking, “What dad? How can you say that with a straight face? You broke up, even if it’s a pet, it should be a clean break! A dog’s not an actual child!” He suspected Shen Quanzhang was doing it on purpose.

The Shiba Inu in Chu Lai’s arms kicked its legs, as if wanting to leave. Chu Lai said, “No need, I’ll take him out to play.”

He turned to Cen Wei and said, “Let’s go back and eat, I’m starving.”

Cen Wei nodded and said to the team leader on the side, “See you on Monday.”

Though his tone was gentle, it still gave the team leader an overwhelming sense of pressure. The mere mention of “Monday” reminded him of the painful experience of being questioned by Cen Wei that very Monday.

The team leader, who was at least a decade older than Cen Wei, looked pale. Once Cen Wei left, he turned to Shen Quanzhang, who hadn’t taken his eyes off them, and said, “You really kept this hidden well.”

“Did you two raise the dog together?”

Shen Quanzhang let out a quiet “hmm.”

Chu Lai and Cen Wei returned to the private room, the small courtyard door closing behind them. The dog didn’t go outside but wandered around indoors.

Shen Quanzhang thought to himself, “Da Cai is as heartless as Chu Lai.”

Inside, Liu Yuan could only see the three of them standing close together but couldn’t hear what was said. When the two walked back in one after the other, the atmosphere became visibly tense, making Liu Yuan unsure how to break the silence.

Instead, it was Jiang Liyong who asked, “Was that just now Chu Lai’s ex-boyfriend?”

He could tell the older man was Cen Wei’s subordinate, and unlike Liu Yuan, who didn’t dare say anything, Jiang Liyong was a bit braver and seemed to enjoy the drama. “Does his ex-boyfriend work at your company?”

Cen Wei nodded. All the dishes had been served, and besides the ones Xuan Rongqing ordered for the two of them, they’d added a few more.

Since meeting Chu Lai, Cen Wei had come to understand his preferences. He knew Chu Lai had a sweet tooth. The crispy-scaled fish, one of the restaurant’s signature dishes, was something Chu Lai had mentioned before, so he ordered it.

This restaurant was expensive. Though Liu Yuan and Chu Lai could afford it on their salaries, they wouldn’t normally spend so much money or travel this far just for a meal—it would more likely sit in their “saved for later” folder.

Liu Yuan, piecing together last night’s conversation and his awkward chat with Jiang Liyong, stamped his approval on the fact that these two were clearly into each other but too scared to cross the line. As a friend, he felt like he should push things along.

Liu Yuan said, “Shen Quanzhang’s such a jerk. He cheated and still tried to blame it on our Chu Lai.”

He sighed, “Chu Lai treated him so well.”

Jiang Liyong, clearly not on the same page, asked, “Doesn’t Chu Lai know that Shen Quanzhang works at Cen Wei’s company?”

The restaurant had a tea theme, with fresh brews served before and after the meal. They were now in the middle of the meal, and the aroma of black tea was strong. Chu Lai took a sip, his expression calm, as he said, “He knows.”

Cen Wei didn’t dare look at him. His gaze was fixed on the tea leaves floating in the tea, remembering the day Chu Lai first came to his company—it was the day they went to register their marriage.

Shen Quanzhang was an employee in the Zhuxian product department, a subsidiary brand of the company, and had just finished his probation period. His desk was on the floor directly below Cen Wei’s. The elevator was being repaired that day, so Chu Lai had followed Cen Wei up the stairs.

Chu Lai might not have seen Shen Quanzhang, but Shen Quanzhang definitely knew Chu Lai had been there.

Cen Wei thought to himself, “They used to be so close, how could they not know where each other worked?”

Liu Yuan got worked up just thinking about it. “On the day they broke up, Chu Lai was planning to celebrate that guy passing his probation, but the jerk had already cheated!”

Thinking of the gift Chu Lai had been carrying that day, Cen Wei couldn’t help but glance at him. The young man was holding his teacup, taking small sips, his brows furrowed, as if troubled by something.

Chu Lai was simply annoyed that he’d turned off notifications on his social media and stayed out of the loop. Even when he was in a relationship, he rarely paid attention to what his partner posted. That’s why, right up until they got their marriage certificate, he had no idea that Shen Quanzhang worked at one of Cen Wei’s subsidiaries.

The situation was truly awkward.

Liu Yuan said, “You should go to Cen Wei’s company more often and piss him off.”

Jiang Liyong: “…”

He thought Liu Yuan’s words were pretty bold, nothing like the quiet and cute image his half-brother had described him as during the New Year.

Chu Lai said, “Why would I bother?”

Just as he put down his cup, Cen Wei reached over to refill it. Even from a contractual perspective, Chu Lai knew it was his own fault for letting this slip. Trying to appear resolute, he said, “I should focus more on the person in front of me.”

Inwardly, he thought, “I should apologize when we get back.”

But then Cen Wei’s hand slipped, spilling some tea. Chu Lai reached for the teapot, gently saying, “I should do it myself. Cen, did you stay up too late? You seem tired.”

Across from them, Liu Yuan thought that even this formal-sounding “Mr. Cen” now came off as flirtatious.

Cen Wei responded with a light “hmm” but said something entirely unrelated to being tired, “Are we still going to the mall after this?”

He was referring to the plan they’d made earlier to visit the arcade.

Curious, Liu Yuan asked, “What do you guys usually do on weekends?”

Chu Lai said, “We haven’t been living together for long.”

Liu Yuan replied, “But with the way you two are looking at each other and pouring tea, anyone who didn’t know better would think you’ve been living together for a year.”

He loved to spout nonsense, and even Cen Wei didn’t expect Chu Lai’s only friend to be so different from him in personality.

Jiang Liyong’s mouth twitched, indicating agreement. He had eaten with Cen Wei before and knew that the man’s gentlemanly manners from childhood had transformed into a more domestic version when he was with Chu Lai. Describing it as “attentive” didn’t quite fit; describing it as “polite” felt lacking.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t courteous, but there was something unspoken between them, a palpable sense of being a married couple. It was so intense that Jiang Liyong forgot these two had gotten married without any emotional foundation.

It was terrifying.

Chu Lai, surprised, asked, “Is it really that obvious?”

Liu Yuan nodded, “But isn’t Mr. Cen really busy? If you have to work overtime on weekends, you can still go to the arcade together?”

Though Chu Lai loved gaming, he wasn’t particularly into the dance machines. He pointed at Cen Wei, “He really enjoys them too.”

He recalled their first meeting and how they had discussed their arcade achievements. “He said he was a champion at the dance machine.”

Liu Yuan couldn’t imagine it. Cen Wei was just too elite. Was he really going to be the one wearing a suit in front of a dance machine, in a crowded arcade?

Still, he was delighted, “That’s great, at least you can go to the arcade together, unlike that scumbag Shen Quanzhang.”

His tone was like a parent marrying off a child, and the fond look he gave to Cen Wei was enough to send chills down anyone’s spine.

But Jiang Liyong, ever curious, asked, “What about tomorrow? Weren’t we supposed to have a gathering? Are you two going on a date?”

Cen Wei replied, “We’re going to Chu Lai’s mom’s place.”

Jiang Liyong suddenly lost his appetite. He felt like being single was some kind of crime.

Three people at this table had partners, and he might as well go upstairs for a blind date.

Liu Yuan, shocked, looked at Chu Lai. Chu Lai nodded just as Cen Wei pushed a bowl of raspberry ice cream toward him, and he unhesitatingly dug into it.

These two exchanged food so naturally, and the atmosphere was so much better than when Liu Yuan used to dine with Shen Quanzhang.

Liu Yuan couldn’t help but glance outside. The sunshade had been drawn, but there was still a small gap.

Shen Quanzhang was still outside!

He nudged Chu Lai under the table and gestured for him to check his phone.

[Liu Yuan]: Why hasn’t the scumbag left yet?

[Chu Lai]: Why do you care?

[Liu Yuan]: I still find it satisfying. He cheated, and you ended up marrying his boss.

[Chu Lai]: It’s a fake marriage, you know that.

[Liu Yuan]: Oh please, don’t tell me you don’t have feelings for him. Who was the one saying he felt something?

Chu Lai, now thoroughly embarrassed, didn’t reply. After dinner, when they headed down the mountain, Liu Yuan parted ways with them, and Jiang Liyong went back to his colleagues.

The photography team left first, leaving just him, Cen Wei, and the dog.

By the afternoon, the sun had vanished, and the sky was gloomy. As they walked down the mountain, a gentle drizzle began to fall, creating ripples on the creek.

At the mountainside shop, Cen Wei bought an umbrella, pulled Chu Lai, who was wearing a hat and holding the dog, under it.

Chu Lai asked, “You sell umbrellas and didn’t bring one?”

Cen Wei replied, “It’s in the car.”

He chuckled, “Even umbrella sellers can’t predict the weather.”

Chu Lai asked curiously, “So would you wish it would rain every day?”

The question was a bit childish, and Cen Wei laughed, “Maybe my great-grandfather would. He used to sell oil-paper umbrellas on the street.”

This topic naturally shifted to Cen Wei’s work—the progress of new studio products, wood selection, and the company’s umbrella workshop.

All of this was outside Chu Lai’s usual world, so it felt quite novel. He didn’t mind the hand that had gently landed on his shoulder after some cautious probing, nor the fact that he was practically nestled into Cen Wei’s arms.

The mountain path was smooth and easy to walk down. They strolled slowly, taking in the misty rain over the mountains, and in this moment, there was an indescribable sense of closeness, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them. Even the dog in Chu Lai’s arms had fallen asleep.

After thinking for a while, Cen Wei said, “If you’re interested, you can visit the workshop someday and see the production process.”

Chu Lai asked, “Is it at the company?”

Cen Wei shook his head, “It’s in the outskirts.”

Chu Lai glanced at the hand holding the umbrella and was suddenly reminded of the feeling of their fingers intertwining and their kisses. He quickly averted his gaze.

Cen Wei, thinking he had overstepped, said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to….”

But Chu Lai shook his head and stopped walking.

They had reached the foot of the mountain, with the scenic area’s parking lot just ahead. By now, a few other people with umbrellas were passing by.

The rain pattering on the umbrella sounded different, depending on the material. Right now, the rain felt more like a soft murmur, like swallowing a dry piece of bread and feeling your throat tense as you tried to wash it down.

Chu Lai glanced at Cen Wei several times before looking down again. He was holding the dog, his fingers full of fur. It had been a long time since he’d felt this kind of tension.

The last time… might have been when he checked his college entrance exam results.

He called out, “Cen Wei.”

He didn’t say “Mr. Cen,” nor “Ah Wei,” and definitely not “husband.”

Cen Wei responded with a soft “hmm.”

Chu Lai said, “I think we…”

He hesitated. Though they hadn’t been living together for long, even though they’d spent weekends together before, Chu Lai still couldn’t tell if this was just the result of hormones and his odd habits stirring up feelings of emptiness.

Maybe they were just trapped in this “contract marriage,” with an added layer of “we’re different from others,” making them feel attracted and infatuated.

Chu Lai didn’t want to forget the reason they registered their marriage, but at the same time, he couldn’t ignore the frustration building inside him.

It was like the calm being disturbed, the moment you board a boat and start fearing the storm ahead. If possible, he wished love could come with a risk assessment.

“We…”

Chu Lai pressed his lips together, and Cen Wei patiently waited. No one knew that his heart was beating in sync with the rain outside.

Things had been off between them for a while.

Closing his eyes, Chu Lai said, “Maybe we should stop before it’s too late?”

He lifted his gaze after speaking, boldly meeting Cen Wei’s eyes. “I’m afraid of the unknown,” he said seriously.

Cen Wei felt a bit disappointed, but he wasn’t surprised.

This was just like Chu Lai. He had his own comfort zone, and even though Cen Wei could feel that Chu Lai’s feelings were growing out of control, he could also understand why he was afraid.

He was just scared of getting hurt. It showed that, right now, Cen Wei couldn’t provide Chu Lai with the security he needed.

With a tight grip on the umbrella handle, Cen Wei said quietly, “So, should we sleep in separate beds now?”

Chu Lai looked up in surprise, but the man wasn’t looking at him. His gaze was on the dog, reminding him of Shen Quanzhang’s earlier “dad” comment.

In that moment, the jealousy rising within him almost overwhelmed his rationality. He had never felt such intense pettiness.

He cared about the titles, the identities, the ownership.

But his status was fake. His partner was fake.

Everything was fake.

So last night, when their breaths mingled, did Chu Lai ever think about the future with me?

Chu Lai thought for a few seconds, then said, “I’ll buy another bed. Luckily, the apartment has a spare room.”

The rain was getting heavier, soaking their shoes and pant legs.

In a low voice, Cen Wei called out, “Chu Lai.”

Chu Lai looked at him, asking, “Do you have another suggestion?”

Cen Wei’s grip on the umbrella tightened. He asked, “Can I kiss you?”

He quickly added, “I just want to make sure of something. If it’s too—”

Chu Lai glanced down at the sleeping dog in his arms, unfazed by Cen Wei’s request.

He gave a small nod and said, “Let’s kiss in the car.”

“It’s… not convenient here.”