Maybe it was because of that bowl of egg custard, but on the way back, Chu Lai dreamed of his childhood.

By the time the car reached home, he still hadn’t woken up. Cen Wei didn’t wake him either and just quietly watched him sleep.

Sleeping separately seemed to cause Chu Lai a lot of distress. His dark circles were particularly prominent, and it wasn’t clear if it was because he hadn’t slept well for two nights in a row.

Before this, Cen Wei had never lived together with anyone like this.

Chu Lai liked a peaceful life, but he had a peculiar need—he craved intimate hugs.

In contrast, Cen Wei feared this kind of intimacy, where his personal space was invaded.

The problem was that Chu Lai’s need for intimacy was different from the usual. He “needed” him, but not specifically him—the person himself. This kind of closeness wasn’t the same as normal cohabitation.

Even in his sleep, Chu Lai didn’t seem to rest well. His hand, gripping the seatbelt, tightened as if he was holding onto something. He had mentioned many times that he liked firm hugs, but it was obvious that Chu Lai wasn’t the type to act forcefully.

He never ate too much unless under special circumstances, he controlled his alcohol intake, kept his distance from people, and maintained restraint in everything. Even in relationships, as he described, they were just “three meals a day, plain and simple.”

And that’s why he got cheated on.

He had been asked the classic question, “Did you ever love me?”—the same one that Cen Wei had received too.

But Cen Wei had never had feelings for Shen Ke. Shen Ke’s affection for him had been more of a desire for conquest. They never compromised, and their breakup was as dramatic as their relationship. So what about Chu Lai?

The look in his ex-boyfriend’s eyes yesterday had been so clingy that you’d think it was Chu Lai who had cheated.

In hindsight, by signing this marriage contract, Chu Lai’s once peaceful life had already been disrupted.

Cen Wei had always thought that Chu Lai had a good temper. When his grandparents and Xuan Rongqing had gone to Chu Lai’s company in a grand show while he was on a business trip, delivering food and flowers—it was enough to make anyone uncomfortable.

Yet, Chu Lai hadn’t complained much. His subtle resistance was only expressed in asking for something as insignificant as a hug, a gesture that others wouldn’t even think was worth anything.

In terms of gains and losses in this contract marriage, it was clear that Cen Wei wasn’t afraid of the consequences, but Chu Lai had sacrificed much more.

By the time they arrived back home, it was already dusk. Sitting in the car, Cen Wei thought for a long time, watching as the sun slowly set behind the apartment buildings. Finally, Chu Lai woke up from his dream, realizing he was still in the car, which had already stopped.

He asked, “Are we home?”

The man in the driver’s seat nodded.

Chu Lai still had Cen Wei’s coat draped over him. He rubbed his eyes and asked, “Why didn’t you wake me?”

The man’s eyes appeared unusually gentle in the last rays of the evening, “You looked like you were sleeping soundly.”

In the backseat was a large pot of marinated chicken feet that Yu Ruimei had made. Chu Lai hadn’t wanted to accept it, but since Cen Wei had, there was nothing he could say.

At this point, Chu Lai checked the time, and Cen Wei said, “Let’s go upstairs. What do you want for dinner?”

Chu Lai replied, “I’ll just eat something simple. I’m not that hungry yet.”

Cen Wei nodded, “I’m heading to the workshop.”

Chu Lai nodded in return. Watching as Cen Wei carried the large pot of rendered pork lard, he realized that this man, in his impression, had always been down-to-earth.

Whether it was wearing a sharp suit while eating barbecue or now carrying a plastic bag, he always seemed calm and composed, completely at ease, brushing aside any airs of grandeur.

Compared to Chu Lai’s feigned normalcy, there was something more authentic about Cen Wei.

Chu Lai hadn’t been wrong when he told his mother—this man was indeed very considerate.

They didn’t talk much. When Cen Wei left, Chu Lai was sitting on the sofa playing with the dog. It wasn’t until after the door closed and he muttered, “You don’t really need to report to me,” that he rubbed his temples.

The puppy, not understanding anything, licked Chu Lai’s hand. Chu Lai hugged it and pinched its ears, thinking of how affectionate it had been with Shen Quanzhang yesterday. He whispered into the dog’s ear, “Next time you see Shen Quanzhang, don’t go running up to him, okay?”

“He’s not your dad anymore.”

The only light in the room was the floor lamp beside the sofa, casting a soft, dim glow. Chu Lai buried his head in the dog’s neck, speaking in a low voice, “And don’t get too close to Cen Wei either.”

“He won’t be your new dad.”

/

Cen Wei drove to the workshop. The company’s headquarters also had a small studio, but it wasn’t very large. The old Cen family residence had a dedicated workshop, fully equipped with tools, but Cen Wei was afraid that if he went back, Xuan Rongqing would corner him for another chat, so he headed to a workshop in a park several kilometers away instead.

It was Sunday, and besides the security guards on duty, there weren’t many people around. After swiping his card to enter, he noticed the umbrella frame he had been working on was still unfinished. He picked out a different piece of wood and decided to make a new umbrella.

His workbench had both modern umbrella-making tools and more traditional ones, with an old skeleton design hanging on the wall. The blueprint for it, drawn in pen, was even older than him.

The domestic branch of the company specialized in paper umbrellas, while the overseas branch focused on luxury products. Previously, when he sat here, it was purely for work, but now, he hadn’t expected to find himself here just to kill time.

He wanted to temporarily forget about the issues with Chu Lai, but as he assembled the umbrella frame piece by piece, all he could think about was the sensation of his fingers intertwined with Chu Lai’s.

It started raining outside, tapping against the window. He didn’t know how much time had passed when hunger finally prompted him to stand up. Glancing at his phone, he realized it was almost 10 p.m.

He grabbed his coat and stepped out for a bit. There were many factories in the area, most belonging to various companies.

A nearby convenience store was still open. As soon as he closed his umbrella and stepped inside, he heard someone call out to him.

“Cen Wei?”

He looked over and saw a man wearing a long down jacket, clearly not fond of the cold.

“It really is you! I could tell just by looking at that umbrella—it had to be from your company.”

The man’s hair was covered by a hat, and he wore a bold-looking earring. Even though they were the same age, Yuan Chen looked younger than him.

Cen Wei asked, “What are you doing here?”

The headquarters of Yuan Chen’s family company was in the same park as Cen Wei’s, but their factories weren’t located here.

The Yuan family dealt in clothing and real estate, with the elder brother running the real estate business and the younger, Yuan Chen, handling clothing. Perhaps because of their nouveau riche background, Yuan Chen had never been very fashionable.

Cen Wei never quite understood why Shen Ke had cheated on him with this childhood friend of his.

Back then, Jiang Liyong had jokingly declared it was just to make him furious.

But to no avail—nothing could ruffle Cen Wei’s feathers. In the end, those two, with their vastly different aesthetics, actually got married.

Yuan Chen, on the other hand, didn’t seem like a married man at all. He smelled like oden and had a couple of chicken leg buns stuffed in his coat pockets. He sat down next to Cen Wei and said, “My brother’s around here, so I’m just tagging along.”

Though they were perceived by acquaintances as having a “wife-stealing” feud, it didn’t bother Cen Wei, though Yuan Chen seemed somewhat uncomfortable.

He asked, “How have you been? I heard you’re getting married. Will I be invited?”

Despite his lack of the usual business airs, Yuan Chen was probably the more capable of the two brothers. He had been making money since middle school, coming off as a bit dim-witted but actually very shrewd.

Cen Wei replied, “If you want to come, you’re more than welcome.”

Yuan Chen, biting into his bun, said, “Shen Ke and I got married abroad. Sorry we didn’t invite you.”

“I know,” replied Cen Wei.

It seemed Yuan Chen had just finished work as well; there were still wood shavings on his sleeves. Yuan Chen had visited the Cen family home as a child and seen the old man teach Cen Wei how to make wooden umbrellas, so he recognized that Cen Wei had just come from the studio.

Yuan Chen asked, “Is your marriage for real?”

Having grown up together, Yuan Chen knew just as much as Jiang Liyong did. He also knew about the Cen family’s matters.

Cen Wei wasn’t the kind of person who would gather people together for a party unless it was for business.

And in their social circles, not everyone was capable of talking business with him. Recently, the hot topic among their group had been his marriage, and everyone was sharing whatever information they had managed to gather.

But despite all their efforts, no one could piece together anything concrete about his legal spouse, let alone any romantic details.

Getting married so quickly after being cheated on—there was clearly something fishy going on.

Even though he hadn’t expected to run into Yuan Chen here, it didn’t faze him. He nodded, “Of course.”

“Then who’s the lucky person? When did you two get together?”

Eating a piece of bread, Cen Wei glanced at his phone. Chu Lai hadn’t sent him any messages, but he now had access to his internet accounts and could quietly keep an eye on him. Chu Lai’s video account was already on his follow list, and it was currently streaming live.

He didn’t click on it. Not wanting to talk much more with Yuan Chen, he simply said, “We got together after I officially broke up with Shen Ke.”

Yuan Chen raised an eyebrow, “That fast?”

“It was love at first sight,” Cen Wei replied. “Didn’t you have the same with Shen Ke?”

His response was sharp, leaving the beanie-wearing man a bit embarrassed. “Well… maybe not to that extent.”

The next second, Yuan Chen’s phone rang with a video call. He answered it, and immediately, Shen Ke’s voice could be heard, “Where are you? Out partying?”

The two chatted without a care in the world, and it was clear they were genuinely in love.

It was true—there was a big difference between a real marriage and a fake one.

Yuan Chen turned the camera, revealing a man quietly eating his bread, with the rain still pouring down outside the window. The scene looked somewhat desolate.

Shen Ke had pursued him passionately before, and knowing how things had turned out, there was a hint of guilt in his voice as he politely greeted him. Cen Wei replied with a simple “Mm” and then got up to leave.

From the other side, Shen Ke called out to him, “I heard you’re getting married?”

Exes usually pretend the other doesn’t exist after a breakup, and all social media accounts had been blocked. But since Yuan Chen and he were still in touch, Shen Ke naturally knew what was going on with him.

Cen Wei gave another “Mm” and glanced at Yuan Chen and the person on the screen. They didn’t seem to match at first glance, but their casual conversation was filled with a closeness that even surpassed the pouring rain.

Cen Wei felt a twinge of envy.

He gave a soft hum, and after a brief silence, he spoke up, “Can I ask you something?”

Shen Ke: “What is it?”

After a pause, he asked, “How did you two get together? Could you tell me the story?”

Shen Ke felt a shiver down his spine. His impression of Cen Wei had always been that he was emotionally cold, so even when he heard the news of his marriage, he figured Cen Wei had probably just hired someone to play the part of a spouse.

None of their mutual friends believed that someone like him, as cold as an iceberg, could ever thaw.

Yet now, this man who had never shown any interest in love was asking him this kind of question. Shen Ke had the feeling that maybe he had melted after all.

Suddenly, Shen Ke felt like he had finally “graduated” from the relationship, and with great enthusiasm, he replied, “Sure! Yuan Chen and I just slept together a few times first. You know how dating you felt like living in a monastery…”

“Since you’re about to get married, are you still… you know, asexual? Or was that just an act before?”

“Got into a fight with your spouse? Just sleep together a few times, and it’ll be fine.”

/

That night, after eating a few marinated chicken feet, Chu Lai started a live stream.

It had been a while since his last one, and once the system notified his fans, they flocked to his stream. As soon as he pulled up the horror game he was going to play, the chat was flooded with greetings.

[How do you have time today? Is it because married people are always busy?]

[Or have you been out exploring restaurants again?]

[Whoa, it’s this game! It’s still in closed beta, and you’ve already got an account.]

[Paper Umbrella Town? I read the synopsis, and it looks terrifying.]

[Will you be streaming regularly from now on? I love your voice so much.]

[For real?]

[I remember he’s a corporate drone, right? He even posted the cafeteria menu once. Must be working at a big company.]

[Yeah… definitely gives off a corporate vibe.]

Chu Lai glanced at a few comments and adjusted his camera. The main screen of the live stream showed the indie folk horror game, while the small window in the lower right corner showed his face. It was the same close-up view as before, but compared to his previous recordings, it was clear that the background had changed.

[Did you move again?]

[Why aren’t you talking? Chat with us! We’ve been waiting for so long.]

Chu Lai opened the game and first skimmed through the game introduction before saying, “First time playing, took me a few hours to download.”

“And yes, I moved.”

[Is it your marital home?]

One person sent that message, and the screen flooded with it. Many of his longtime fans knew that Chu Lai tended to be particular about these kinds of repetitive questions.

After a brief silence, Chu Lai answered with a soft “Mm.”

The game’s setting was a small town known for making paper umbrellas. The protagonist was a tourist passing through who happened to stumble upon the place. The innkeeper handed him a map and warned him about areas to avoid at night.

Chu Lai commented, “The beginning is pretty generic.”

His voice was pleasant, but it always sounded a bit lethargic, making it even more distinctive. Many new viewers were drawn in by the live stream’s recommendations on the homepage, commenting on how nice the voice was and asking what game this was.

The town in the game specialized in selling paper umbrellas, and the setting was in the early 2000s, with a very outdated, old-town aesthetic. The protagonist was just there as a tourist, planning to buy a traditional oil-paper umbrella as a souvenir before heading home.

The overall style was eerie, and the music added to the tension. Chu Lai was fully immersed.

Meanwhile, after his conversation with Shen Ke, Cen Wei walked back to the workshop through the rain, his head filled with words like “burning passion” “perfect match” and “letting loose a few times”…

None of it had provided any helpful insight.

Those two had simply slept together first, then fallen in love, which left Cen Wei wanting to erase his memory, especially after being bombarded with their affection.

Back at the workshop, he pulled up Chu Lai’s live stream on his phone and was greeted by that familiar voice.

Chu Lai’s stream was quite popular tonight, probably due to the game’s recent closed beta release, and some viewers had found it through recommendations.

The chat was constantly refreshed with new messages, many of which included gifts for the streamer. Chu Lai, while playing, had to remind everyone to spend moderately.

Every time he said that, even more extravagant gifts would roll in.

[Up host @Laic received 10 Invincible Rockets from @Linx]

[Up host @Laic received 1 Invincible Rocket from @Quan Zhang]

…

[Where are all these new people coming from?]

[They’re not strangers, right? The new top donator’s username matches the host’s pretty well. Could that be his spouse?]

[For real? I’ve lost focus on the game now. This gameplay is so intense.]

Normally, Cen Wei wouldn’t pay attention to this stuff, but for some reason, he had a feeling this @Linx was Ding himself. He clicked on the avatar—it was a cartoon dog, but it was also a Samoyed, so he couldn’t tell for sure.

The rain was pouring outside, and on a whim, he decided to join in on the leaderboard competition.

[Up host @Laic received 100 Invincible Rockets from @Cee]

One hundred was the maximum limit for gifts, and for a moment, everyone in the stream saw the highest-tier special effects. It was like a New Year’s fireworks display, and the account shot straight to the top of the leaderboard.

Chu Lai, who had been playing the game at a leisurely pace, suddenly choked up.

[A hundred?! Did I see that right?]

[How much is that?! Ten thousand?]

[How many days of work would I have to put in to earn that? What’s going on today?]

Chu Lai glanced at the account and pulled out his phone to check something on Weibo.

Sure enough, the result that popped up was Cen Wei.

It was also Cen Wei’s WeChat account.

He sighed and said, “Sir, are you not planning to come home tonight?”

“Half of this will go to the platform, you know. Are you really willing to waste your money like this? Stop interrupting my game.”

[?]

[Are they close?]

[A lot of people are too afraid to say it, but the host’s tone sounds so different now.]

[This has got to be the real spouse staking their claim, right? This is hilarious.]

[Shipping them like this will only harm them, folks. This is a gaming stream!]

Unable to resist, Cen Wei typed: “I’ll be home soon.”