Shen Li hadn’t deliberately ignored Qian Xingzhi’s message.
He just didn’t know how to reply.
With anyone else, Shen Li’s temperament would have led him to fire off a casual “mm-hmm” or even just a “1.” But when it came to Qian Xingzhi, he had to weigh his words carefully.
Even before their divorce, Qian Xingzhi had a habit of harping on Shen Li’s “coldness” and “perfunctory” attitude.
Shen Li had been endlessly nagged and pestered by him for merely acknowledging one of Qian Xingzhi’s funny videos or internet memes with an “mm-hmm.”
His colleagues had teasingly called him “henpecked.”
And they weren’t entirely wrong.
Even now, the mere thought of sending Qian Xingzhi a simple “mm-hmm” triggered a conditioned stress response in Shen Li.
Seven years after the divorce, contact between Shen Li and Qian Xingzhi had grown increasingly sparse.
Over those seven years, Shen Li had ascended from an ordinary frontline police officer to deputy captain of S City’s second criminal investigation brigade. He had earned a second-class merit award, lost the use of one leg to injury, been reassigned to a back-office role, resigned in frustration, and finally returned to Geng Family Village to repay an old debt of gratitude. It felt like a lifetime compressed into those years.
Even in the last year before their split, the two men had barely managed to see each other twice.
After the divorce, their utterly divergent social circles ensured they never crossed paths. At best, they exchanged perfunctory holiday greetings once a year.
Three years ago, Qian Xingzhi had still mustered a dry 【Happy Birthday】 on Shen Li’s special day.
But over the past two years, even that ritual had faded away, as if Qian Xingzhi had finally tired of it.
Shen Li had come to believe their fates had truly reached their end.
Who could have foreseen what happened next?
In May of this year, Qian Xingzhi called him out of nowhere. Without much preamble, he dangled the bait: a highly lucrative variety show that wanted Shen Li as a guest.
What kind of man was Shen Li?
He had once been a people’s police officer—hardly suited to the spotlight. Now, he was little more than the principal of a rural hope elementary school, with zero time for such distractions. His gut reaction was a firm refusal.
But Qian Xingzhi shut that down with a single line: “Fifteen days of filming, two hundred thousand a day. You sure you don’t want in?”
Shen Li froze.
What was the difference between that and money raining from the heavens?
“I’ll do it. Hell, you could cut me open, and I’d still show up.”
It turned out Qian Xingzhi had lured him in good. Shen Li submitted all the paperwork and even completed his fitting photos before learning the truth. The so-called “reality survival variety show” was titled 《Broke Defense? Ex-Husband Bro!》.
Shen Li was stunned. After grilling the program’s director for details, he immediately phoned Qian Xingzhi and demanded to know what the man meant by calling it a “remarriage variety show.”
Qian Xingzhi’s voice came through cold and utterly devoid of remorse: “Ah, the literal meaning. What’s the issue?”
Shen Li was livid at Qian Xingzhi’s insolent tone. “Why didn’t you tell me straight up that it’s an emotional dating show?”
“What’s the problem? Dating shows don’t pay real money? That three million is counterfeit?”
Shen Li was speechless.
Qian Xingzhi let out a low huff, his deep voice dripping with impatience, yet he still deigned to explain. “I can give you a preview: the show’s grueling—full live stream around the clock. Daytime’s survival challenges, nighttime’s emotional deep dives. Just be yourself. Act normal no matter what segment it is. It won’t get in your way.”
Shen Li rubbed his throbbing brow, his heart hammering like a drum. He listened to Qian Xingzhi’s steady breathing on the line and said nothing for a long moment.
Only when Qian Xingzhi prompted him—”Any more questions?”—did Shen Li voice his real concern. “The director mentioned you’ll be joining the show later. What’s that about?”
Qian Xingzhi dodged. “Nothing’s set in stone yet. Filming doesn’t start for three months. Negotiations are ongoing.”
“And… the remarriage angle?”
The words were barely out of Shen Li’s mouth when he realized how they sounded. Before Qian Xingzhi could respond, he hurriedly backpedaled to clarify: “I mean the remarriage theme. If you get involved, won’t it drag your private life into the spotlight?”
There was what might have been a soft chuckle on the other end—or perhaps not.
Shen Li couldn’t quite tell.
Qian Xingzhi’s voice remained cool and detached, as if he were deliberately erecting a wall between them. “That doesn’t concern you. Just do your thing. Don’t worry about me.”
Shen Li felt a lump rise in his throat.
Had Qian Xingzhi suddenly sprouted a spine of steel and leopard gall? Daring to speak to him like that now?
With conversation at an impasse, Shen Li slammed the phone down. Qian Xingzhi made no further contact.
Until today. After Shen Li’s plane touched down, three nosy words popped up from Qian Xingzhi: asking if he’d arrived. Shen Li had mulled it over the entire flight but still hadn’t replied.
What could he say, anyway? Just an “mm-hmm.” With Qian Xingzhi’s glass ego, that might set off another tantrum.
After dinner, Shen Li took Geng Qiuqiu for a short walk around the hotel grounds.
It was a barren backwater with nothing to see. They strolled for a bit before heading back to the hotel to unpack and turn in.
To join this show, Shen Li had crammed a mountain of work into the preceding days, pulling several all-nighters.
Geng Family Village’s new elementary school was in its chaotic infancy—peak busyness. September first loomed, marking the start of term, and supplies hadn’t even arrived yet.
On top of that, the village needed streetlights installed. The old village head and party secretary were clueless about everything and leaned entirely on Shen Li to handle it. With it all stacked up, he was busier than ever.
Tomorrow, the show kicked off: fifteen nonstop days from noon twelve to midnight, broadcast live continuously.
According to the info booklet, the only break was a half-hour window from 11:30 p.m. to midnight for showering and rest. Phones were allowed in the bathroom then, for handling work or calling family. Contacting an ex, however, required reporting the conversation content.
Shen Li had zero intention of reaching out to Qian Xingzhi right now, but he couldn’t exactly abandon village affairs.
Once back at the hotel, he escorted Qiuqiu to her room. Taking advantage of his last chance for extended phone access, he messaged the school director and didn’t wrap up until past two in the morning. Only then did he shower and prepare for bed.
As he toweled off his hair and sorted his luggage, a faint rustling sounded from beyond the door.
Years on the criminal investigation force had honed Shen Li’s instincts to a razor’s edge.
He tossed the towel onto the bed, snatched the clothes hanger from nearby, and crossed to the door in three quick strides. Peering through the peephole, he scoped out the situation.
Sure enough!
A hulking figure, easily over six feet tall, lurked suspiciously at the door to Geng Qiuqiu’s room across the hall. He was fumbling with a keycard, trying to jimmy the lock!
The door beeped its error warnings repeatedly, but the man pressed on undeterred.
It lined up perfectly with the rash of hotel burglaries Lin Jie had mentioned earlier that day.
Shen Li’s blood ran cold. He flung the door open!
In a flash—less than half a second—he was behind the giant, jamming the hanger against the man’s neck. The intruder thrashed in surprise, but Shen Li hooked his left leg around and pinned both wrists in the blink of an eye!
Shen Li thought to himself that this thief was far too sloppy. Showing up drunk for a job? What a lightweight.
The next instant, the man twisted halfway around.
Their eyes met.
Shen Li froze solid.
A pair of achingly familiar brows and eyes stared back, hazy with sleep and heavy with booze. They shot him a sullen glare, but the moment they locked onto his, twin wells of misty tears welled up.
Like a massive dog, abandoned by its owner, on the verge of a pitiful whine.
Shen Li’s heart lurched. He hastily released the man.
But Qian Xingzhi turned the tables in an instant. One arm snaked around Shen Li’s waist, slamming him back against the door with brutal force. A knee drove upward, wedging insistently between Shen Li’s legs and forcing him to perch awkwardly astride Qian Xingzhi’s thigh.
Shen Li shoved at him with both hands, his tone stern. “Have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing in the middle of the night?”
Qian Xingzhi dipped his head, burying his sharp nose against Shen Li’s neck. He inhaled deeply—the crisp scent of hotel body wash.
“If I’d known getting drunk could conjure dreams like this…”
His arms constricted like iron bands around Shen Li’s waist. His lips brushed the heated root of Shen Li’s right ear, while his shaggy head nuzzled insistently against Shen Li’s neck.
The instant contact hit Shen Li like a physiological tripwire; his legs went rubbery. A flood of intimate adult memories surged unbidden into his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, arched his neck away, and summoned all his strength to shove the drunken fool backward. Seizing the opening, he snatched the keycard from Qian Xingzhi’s hand.
Room 626.
Geng Qiuqiu’s was 628.
Shen Li shook his head in disbelief, as if beholding an utter moron. He then pried Qian Xingzhi off him.
But Qian Xingzhi was too damn tall—a solid wall of a man, dead weight clinging relentlessly.
With his bad right leg and a full head shorter, Shen Li struggled to budge him.
He was debating whether to deliver a sharp slap to sober the idiot up.
The moment Shen Li grabbed Qian Xingzhi by the collar, though, something seemed to trigger. Qian Xingzhi whipped his head side to side, fixing Shen Li with wide, imploring puppy-dog eyes.
Then—”mwah”—he planted a kiss square on Shen Li’s cheek.
Shen Li’s face heated. He muttered in quiet disgust: “Pervert.”
Qian Xingzhi’s hands found his naturally, fingers lacing together in an intimate clasp. In a syrupy whine, he murmured: “For ignoring my messages, I’m calling the cops.”
“Get lost,” Shen Li snapped. But Qian Xingzhi pinned him firmly to the door, claiming his left cheek with another kiss. Shen Li was steeling himself to shove him off again—
When the door behind him nudged forward!
Geng Qiuqiu’s tentative voice piped up from the other side: “Um, that is… Uncle Shen, are you…”
Shen Li’s vision went black. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die!
Without daring to glance her way, he yanked Qian Xingzhi’s arm over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he blurted: “He’s drunk and hit the wrong door. I’m taking him back to his room. Sorry for waking you—go back to sleep and lock the safety chain.”
With that, he awkwardly hauled the stumbling drunkard away without looking back.
Geng Qiuqiu wore an expression of thrilled scandal, watching until Shen Li swiped them into Qian Xingzhi’s room. Only then did she reluctantly retreat to her own.
Shen Li waited until her door clicked shut before exhaling in relief. He slotted the keycard into the power strip by the entryway.
The wall sconces flickered on, finally affording Shen Li a proper look at Qian Xingzhi.
He had slimmed down noticeably.
The shadows under his eyes were darker than before. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and the overall effect was disheveled—far from the polished figure on screen. At best, he passed for a rugged, stubble-jawed uncle type.
Yeah.
Twenty years, after all.
From meeting Qian Xingzhi at fifteen to thirty-five now.
Long enough for everything to change.
Shen Li’s gaze dimmed. He instinctively recoiled from Qian Xingzhi’s clinging embrace, dragging the man’s heavy frame toward the bed. He dumped Qian Xingzhi onto the mattress and knelt to remove his shoes, thinking to himself:
Qian Xingzhi seemed to be regressing with every passing day. He had such important work tomorrow, yet here he was, completely plastered. He had never gotten like this before.
“What time is your work tomorrow? Want me to set an alarm for you?”
Shen Li tugged off Qian Xingzhi’s jacket, asking the question in what he imagined was a perfectly detached tone.
But there was no answer.
Shen Li let out a cold scoff and rolled his eyes. He really couldn’t be bothered with him anymore.
He figured that when he saw Geng Qiuqiu off tomorrow, he could knock on Qian Xingzhi’s door at the same time. That would be going above and beyond.
After tucking Ex-Husband Bro under the covers, Shen Li started to get up.
Then he heard Qian Xingzhi’s voice—low and hoarse, as if he’d been mulling it over forever before finally managing to get his name out:
“Shen Li.”
Qian Xingzhi called out to him.
“Hm?” Shen Li turned to look.
Qian Xingzhi’s chiseled features were drawn tight. The look in his eyes was profoundly deep, as if it could draw Shen Li in entirely. He stared intently for a long moment before rasping:
“I miss you so much.”
Shen Li froze. Those four softly spoken words sent a tingling shiver through his entire body.
Qian Xingzhi kept going.
“I want to remarry you.”
