Qian Lang felt utterly stuck in a dilemma.
Was the current situation really that difficult? Strictly speaking, no. He could just lay all his cards on the table right now, speak plainly—like detonating a bomb. Boom, and afterward, things would sort themselves out however they were meant to.
…He couldn’t quite picture the fallout.
If only he were still in Yanhai. Qian Lang rubbed his temples in frustration. If Xie Qi lost it and went off the deep end, at least he could do something to intervene.
But he couldn’t just stay silent either. Qian Lang pinched the bridge of his nose. The truth would come out eventually—you couldn’t hide fire in paper forever. Drifting along in this muddled state? Imagine if Wen Jiang eventually found his true love, only to learn that his perfectly fine “first love” had turned into “cheater.” Wouldn’t that make things even messier?
The circle was full of scandals, and Wen Jiang was absolutely the type who’d get noticed. Qian Lang used to think he’d vet potential partners for Wen Jiang down the line. Now, he buried his face in his hands, too overwhelmed to even analyze whether someone was “right for you.” His mood was a tangled mess anyway.
Of course, the most ideal solution was to quietly pray they’d fall genuinely in love, turning fake into real—or naturally drift apart. Then, airing old grievances later could turn a big deal into a small one, and a small one into nothing.
In Qian Lang’s plan, he’d communicate with them separately first. Gauge Wen Jiang’s feelings toward Xie Qi, figure out their exact status, then drop subtle hints to Xie Qi about the issues at play. Assess how stubbornly deluded he was. As long as it wasn’t a massive shock, Xie Qi wouldn’t explode at the slightest touch.
The call he dialed finally connected, linking to the floating screen at Xie Qi’s house—a version Qian Lang had never visited. Lost in thought, Qian Lang looked up and saw both Wen Jiang and Xie Qi in frame together. His hand nearly jerked, almost ending the call.
“Uh,” all his rehearsed lines evaporated in three seconds. Qian Lang hesitated. “Hey…?”
“…”
What is this? Are they making me carry the conversation? Wen Jiang’s expression remained impassive, his tone flat as he replied, “Hey.”
Xie Qi sat beside him, arms crossed, face dark, his whole demeanor screaming nothing to say? Get lost already.
What the hell! Don’t make me out like some third wheel here! Qian Lang choked back a retort. The two of them stared at him expectantly, leaving him awkwardly on pins and needles. He quickly spoke up. “Uh, Xiao Jiang, those couple’s hot spring tickets I mentioned earlier? I already sent them over. Remember to use them when you have time.”
He emphasized couple’s loud and clear.
Xie Qi’s eyelids twitched—he clearly got the hint—and he slowly turned an expectant gaze toward Wen Jiang. Qian Lang could read the anticipation in his eyes.
Seeing the guy who’s always acted like a kingpin show this side… it’s kinda weird. Qian Lang pressed on meaningfully. “Got anyone in mind to go with?”
Wen Jiang’s face stayed blank, a touch puzzled as he countered in a matter-of-fact tone, “Didn’t you say to go with Xie Qi?”
“Yeah, sure, that’s an option, but you…” Qian Lang subtly glanced at Xie Qi.
What the hell does that mean? Trying to nudge Wen Jiang away from hot springs with me right in front of my face? Who do you want him to go with? Xie Qi’s face turned frosty. If Wen Jiang weren’t there, he’d already be cursing up a storm.
See? This conversation’s going nowhere. Qian Lang’s head throbbed as he steered it back. “…But if you two are too busy, you could always pass them to someone else.”
Inspiration struck, and he added, “Or if you’re busy, Xiao Jiang, let Xie Qi take someone else for a sweet getaway. No loss either way.”
The fuck?? Xie Qi’s hackles rose; he dropped his arms immediately. “I don’t—”
“Mm.” Wen Jiang agreed flatly. No sense wasting them.
Oh ho. Qian Lang clamped his mouth shut. Xie Qi whipped his head around in disbelief, staring at Wen Jiang.
That reaction pretty much confirms it. As the instigator, Qian Lang shrank back, observing silently. In Wen Jiang’s mind, he and Xie Qi clearly weren’t a couple.
It wasn’t that Xiao Jiang should’ve shown possessiveness or jealousy at his suggestion. No, the point was, that wasn’t the kind of joke you’d make about a real couple. With Wen Jiang’s personality, he wouldn’t play along like that with any pair—not even if it were Qian Lang and Tong… his ex-girlfriend.
The more Qian Lang thought, the more cold sweat beaded on his brow. Xie Qi shouldn’t miss something like this, right?
Has Absolute Trust messed with his judgment this badly?
…Then again, rumors swirled that his mysterious little lover was “definitely just after money,” and Xie Qi never wavered. Maybe he’s thinking, ‘As long as it doesn’t hit me in the face, I’ll pretend not to see’?
Qian Lang inwardly griped as he heard the usually arrogant Xie Qi speak to Wen Jiang in a tone laced with grievance and panic, stumbling a bit. “You… you can’t just say that.”
…Pretend I didn’t hear that.
Wen Jiang glanced at Qian Lang, who sat ramrod straight but mentally a hundred meters away. Then at Xie Qi, on the verge of shattering beside him. Poker-faced, he paused for a few seconds before smoothly extending a hand. “Then let’s go.”
Hm? Qian Lang snapped back to attention.
In Qian Lang’s eyes, Xie Qi’s personality was far from putting on airs or idol baggage. His status and talents were there—no need to “deliberately avoid bowing his head” when he’d never even considered “bowing” an option. His surroundings never gave him the chance to think otherwise.
Xie Qi stared fixedly at Wen Jiang, as if the rest of the world had vanished to the ninth heaven. He leaned forward, lowering his head perfectly into Wen Jiang’s reach. Wen Jiang’s hand landed naturally on his hair, ruffling it casually a couple times.
Eh? Ehhh! What the—how is he so smooth at this?!
This wasn’t how you two were before I left! What the hell does “taking care” even mean?? Qian Lang was on the verge of breakdown, blurting out, “Hey, I’m still here! You gonna get all touchy-feely right in front of me?”
Wen Jiang’s hand paused. The comment felt off, but kinda reasonable. Then realization hit—shock flickered in his eyes, unchanged on the surface. He tilted his head, silently asking Qian Lang: Didn’t you and Huo Xia Tong love PDA even more?
This is just a head pat.
The PDA boomerang struck without warning. For some reason, “Parents should set a good example for their kids” flashed through Qian Lang’s mind.
Besides, it’s effective. Good for mental stability too. Wen Jiang lowered his gaze, ruffled a couple more times, then withdrew his hand once Xie Qi seemed patched up. Xie Qi straightened, feigning nonchalance, though his ear tips were pink. Spotting Qian Lang, he frowned. “You got more business?”
“…” Qian Lang deadpanned, “Just here for some chit-chat.”
“Oh.” Xie Qi shot back, “That done?”
“Hey, rare chance we’re all together,” Qian Lang kept his expression blank. “Might as well chat more.”
Zero chemistry in that acting. So lazy, Wen Jiang thought idly, casually checking his phone.
Though he had plenty to say, Qian Lang swallowed it all, shoving his tangled emotions aside. Amid the shock, he absurdly realized Xie Qi might actually have a shot.
Would Xiao Jiang treat anyone else like that? Sure, he occasionally pats heads, but it didn’t feel the same. Maybe I’m seeing it through rose-tinted glasses, but something’s off.
If it were me? Our friendship’s solid, but we wouldn’t have that… “chemistry.” Same for others in the circle—like Wen Tianlu, Lin Xun, Jiang Hehu. Wen Jiang wouldn’t ruffle them so casually.
Weird. Xie Qi’s straddling some line. Intimate? Plenty Wen Jiang wouldn’t allow. Rejecting? Yet he’s indulged so much.
So… potential? No? Should I say more? Can’t just leave it hanging. Definitely gotta remind Xie Qi later—sober effort beats this state.
While Qian Lang internally brainstormed, Wen Jiang finally got the message he’d been waiting for. He blinked, then held his phone screen to Xie Qi. Xie Qi glanced over, then met Wen Jiang’s eyes.
Huo Xia Tong: Tell Qian Lang to approve my friend request, please.
Huo Xia Tong: [Bunny speechless.jpg]
Definitely a good sign. Wen Jiang tilted his head. “Qian Lang, check your phone messages.”
“Mm, yeah, in a bit.” Qian Lang replied offhandedly, looking pensive—pure deflection.
“…” Wen Jiang said, “Check your phone first.”
“Mm, no rush.” Qian Lang dipped his head in thought, then steeled himself and looked up. “Anyway, later on that. I have something to say to Xie Qi—”
He looked up to Wen Jiang’s icier-than-usual poker face. He froze. “…What’s up?”
Xie Qi wore a you’re an idiot expression beside him.
“…” Qian Lang eyed them suspiciously. “What? You two install some prank app on my phone?” His gut twisted looking at Xie Qi. He grabbed a glass of water for courage, stubbornly adding, “It’s not urgent. Just a quick chat.”
“…” Wen Jiang stared coldly as Qian Lang drank, then dropped casually, “Chat about you planting a Supernatural Ability on yourself?”
“Pfft! Cough cough!” Qian Lang sprayed water, choking and coughing miserably. “No, wha—” His first instinct was Xie Qi, but Xie Qi looked equally surprised at Wen Jiang.
“Knew it ages ago,” Wen Jiang said flatly.
Qian Lang hacked harder, his prepared words scattering. Brain blank, he stared at Wen Jiang’s cool face—then epiphany struck, unleashing his “Wen Jiang Mood-Reading Master” skill. “You timed that for when I was drinking, didn’t you?!”
I have no idea what you’re on about. Wen Jiang looked away expressionlessly.
Then, he let out a soft sigh, radiating palpable melancholy.
Hey, hey hey! Now he’s acting?!
Wen Jiang could pull off performances of any style or intensity. That super sunny smile from orientation stuck with Qian Lang—later revealed as Wen Jiang’s comedic contrast experiment to show off. Many times, for subtler goals, he’d dial it back without breaking his “base image.” Like now: you knew the sorrow was fake, yet it felt natural, as if some timeline existed where you saddened him—sparking irrational guilt.
Xie Qi’s eyes widened slightly nearby, expression steady but gaze panicked—failing to balance logic and emotion. A second later, he gave up, awkwardly draping an arm over Wen Jiang’s shoulders and shooting Qian Lang a vicious glare.
You can tell he’s faking, right?! Qian Lang’s head throbbed harder. Wen Jiang lowered his thick lashes, casting a small shadow, and murmured softly, “Just check it first.”
Oof!
“Fine, fine, I’ll check!” The combo crushed Qian Lang’s momentum. He snatched his phone furiously, jabbed into the chat app, and after a few frowning seconds, his face solidified.
Friend request from stranger “Who’s Little Huo”: Got time this week?
Who’s Little Huo: Your ex wants to talk reconciliation.
Wen Jiang blinked gently—once, twice. Seconds later, a clang echoed from the screen. Qian Lang shot up, knocking over his glass.
His lips moved soundlessly. He paced like a trapped beast, looking almost comical. Wen Jiang noted his reddening eyes.
Xie Qi rolled his eyes sympathetically—no right to judge me earlier when you’re embarrassing yourself too. No image control left.
“I… two days, three…” Qian Lang wiped his eyes, mumbling incoherently, then pocketed his phone. The screen went black amid door-opening sounds and his frantic voice: “Next week! Definitely next week, we’ll talk then—don’t forget!”
Even in a situation like this, he hadn’t forgotten about it? That made it seem truly important.
The other guy vanished without a trace in an instant. Wen Jiang took the initiative to hang up the call. The living room fell quiet. Two seconds later, he turned his head and asked calmly, “Why’d he run off like that?”
Huo Xia Tong hadn’t even boarded her flight yet—where the hell was he running to?
Xie Qi said speechlessly, “He’s an idiot.”
