◎Unless I see abs, I’m not retreating.◎

It was hard to accurately grasp someone’s emotions through text alone. X’s sudden bluntness caught me off guard for a moment. After thinking it over, I replied, “Is there really such a good thing?”

X: “No.”

I deliberately tried to provoke him. “No abs or no pictures?”

X remained unmoved. “Neither.”

He was obviously lying. From what little I knew about fitness, as long as the body fat percentage was low enough, everyone could have abs. With his physique, there was no way he didn’t.

I took a small breath, feeling a little confused. His tone was indifferent, but if he truly found this annoying, he wouldn’t bother responding to me at all.

I wasn’t sure if this was a signal that I could keep going, but I decided to take it as one. Maybe, just like me, he was simply looking for a bit of fun online when he was bored.

I had just reached my front door, pressing my fingerprint to unlock it with my right hand while still managing to type with my left, completely shameless. “I thought my sincerity had moved the god of abs, but it turns out the god merely closed the door on me.”

X: “…”

“What’s wrong?”

I asked, feigning ignorance.

X: “A little”

X: “Too much.”

The act of crouching down to change into my slippers delayed my response by a few dozen seconds. After placing my boots into the shoe cabinet and standing back up, my eyes returned to my phone screen, only to be immediately drawn to work messages popping up on WeChat.

I casually sent X a crying cat meme, then quickly closed the Xiaofanshu app.

For the next week, I disappeared from X’s world.

Of course, it wasn’t because I was actually heartbroken over what X said. Leaving ridiculous comments under handsome guys’ posts was just a tiny stress reliever in my high-pressure life. Taking it seriously would be a loss.

The real reason for my absence was a last-minute business trip. Every extra day we stayed meant another day’s worth of travel allowances for the whole team. Our manager, who counted costs like his life depended on it, made sure we were squeezed to the limit. I was so busy that I barely touched my phone for almost five days. The night before heading back, I checked my battery and was surprised to see it still at 22%.

After finally finishing sorting out the materials from the trip and sending them off, I lay sprawled on the hotel bed with nothing to do. On impulse, I instinctively opened X’s profile.

Coincidentally, he had posted a new update just ten minutes ago. Another leg day. The lighting in the photo was dim, but the smooth muscle definition was stunning.

And just so happened, I had a particular appreciation for men who trained their legs regularly.

I studied the photo a few times, unexpectedly feeling a little shy.

X’s profile was livelier than before. In just ten minutes, the comments had already flooded in. I skimmed through them absentmindedly until one caught my attention—

“Why haven’t I seen the No Name Teacher recently?”

It even had three likes.

In order to fully embrace the concept of the “Internet No-Man’s Land,” I replaced my username with a few spaces, making it look like I was a nameless netizen.

Apparently, my overly enthusiastic presence on X’s page had earned me the nickname “Teacher” from the regulars.

Since I had been called out, I generously made an appearance.

“I have too many thoughts, and not a single one is appropriate for public viewing.”

The comment section was so lively that as soon as I posted, replies flooded in.

“As expected of our No Name Teacher!”

I chuckled. But in just a split second, my laughter suddenly froze before spreading into a wider smile.

The last reply that said “As expected of our No Name Teacher!” had a small label under it—Liked by the author.

The atmosphere had built up so perfectly. It would be a shame not to poke at X a little. Seizing the opportunity, I sent him a private message.

“Excuse me, Teacher X, was that like an accident?”

X responded quickly. “No.”

“I thought you had finally given up.”

I immediately caught his underlying meaning—he was referring to how I hadn’t appeared for several days.

To be honest, I was a little surprised. The fact that he noticed my absence meant that, in some way, he had been paying attention to me.

For a moment, I was a bit dazed. But I didn’t like being on the defensive—I was used to making the first move.

Instead of responding to his opening remark, I threw out my own question.

“Let me ask you something.”

X: “Go ahead.”

Holding my phone, I typed, “I’m guessing you don’t reply to every private message. So why me?”

I didn’t know if X had anticipated my question, but he countered with a half-serious, half-playful response.

“Do you want the truth?”

It was just a game of words, and I played along effortlessly.

“If the lie sounds better, then I’d rather hear the lie.”

X ignored my attempt to steer the conversation away. After a short pause, he answered,

“The truth is, you were leaving comments long before I posted any pictures. I thought you were different.”

I knew it. There was no such thing as a handsome guy who wasn’t aware of his own appeal. Fortunately, I had recognized his worth early on, leaving likes and comments to make sure I stood out.

I openly admitted, “Sorry to disappoint, not only am I just like them, but I’m even better at it.”

X: “…”

I had a feeling this was the perfect moment to press forward. Even if it wasn’t, I didn’t really care.

Cheerfully, I said, “Alright, now I can finally answer you.”

X: “Answer what?”

Just as I expected, he responded quickly. Whether it was because he was truly free or just a little interested in me, either way, it worked in my favor.

With a slow smile, I typed, “Answer what you said at the start—’I thought you had finally given up.’”

X: “Go ahead.”

If I looked in the mirror at this moment, I’d probably see myself grinning from ear to ear. When words get jumbled up like this, it’s just the standard response. So I said, “I haven’t given up. It took all my willpower not to leave a message these past few days.”

X: “……”

I had a feeling he welded those six dots onto his phone.

At the same time, a message popped up from the manager of my next project: “Do you have a moment? Let’s have a quick video call about next week’s schedule.”

My laptop was right beside me, so I immediately logged into Zoom and started the meeting. On camera, I looked perfectly composed and professional, but under the table, I was still typing a message to X:

“Unless I see abs, I’m not retreating.”

X: “………………”

X: “Alright.”

Instead of analyzing what exactly that “alright” meant, I was more curious about his mood when he typed it. Was he secretly pleased but pretending to be aloof, or was he just giving up and going with the flow?

It didn’t matter. My principle in relationships is never to overthink.

I didn’t plan to reply, partly because I had no intention of dragging this on, and partly because the meeting had officially started, so I focused on work, letting the conversation end with his “alright.”

But just a few minutes later, my phone buzzed again—X was texting back.

“I have a question for you too,” he said.

It wasn’t until after the meeting that I finally had a chance to reply: “Go ahead, Teacher X.”

A few minutes later, he sent a message: “There are so many fitness influencers out there posting ab pics. Why do you insist on seeing mine?”

“Do you want the truth?” I threw his own words back at him on purpose.

X asked, “Are you saying you actually have two different answers prepared?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “The fake answer is: You’re special. You’re unlike any other man I’ve met. Something in the middle… I forgot. And something at the end… I also forgot.”

X clearly recognized that script and didn’t buy it at all. He just skipped ahead and asked, “So what’s the real answer?”

I pursed my lips, grinning. “The real answer is: I’m trying to be a little more active around you so that the algorithm remembers my preferences and recommends more handsome guys and beautiful girls with great abs.”

There was a brief silence on the other end.

X: “…Okay.”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter. I could tell—this “okay” had just a hint of gritted teeth in it.

°.✩┈┈∘*┈˃̶୨୧˂̶┈*∘┈┈✩.°

[📢 Author’s Note]

Here’s the full copy-paste of that “You’re special” paragraph:

“You’re special. You’re unlike any of the other guys I’ve met. You give off a sense of distance—loneliness, even. You keep people at arm’s length. I’ve heard many people say they’re lonely, but I feel like your loneliness is the real kind. It’s like, deep down, you’ve always been alone. Like you’re always wearing a mask. You crave excitement, danger, unpredictability—maybe even a little bit of torment. You want things that are excessive, things that don’t make sense, things that consume you. You want emotions that burn your soul. You want a love so intense it drains you. You remind me of that Borges quote: ‘You are nothing but every lonely moment.’ No matter when or where, you always catch my eye—even when your face is completely expressionless. So many times, I’ve wanted to understand you, to know what you’re thinking. But I feel like there’s a barrier around you, and I don’t want to break it.”