Chapter 63

The day the two of them decided to get together was Children’s Day.

For high schoolers, though, it was just an ordinary day—right on the cusp of final exams.

Qian Xingzhi was squatting outside the home of one of Shen Li’s tutoring students, leaning against the wall with a sausage stick dangling from his mouth.

He clutched a Chinese language textbook in one hand, mumbling to himself:

“The clans of scholars and officials—those who call themselves masters and disciples—gather in groups and mock them. Ask what they mean, and they go, ‘Hiss—’ say… say…”

Shen Li approached, his shadow—a thin, faint veil—falling across the ground neither too near nor too far away.

Qian Xingzhi’s irritated face lifted. The instant he spotted Shen Li, his eyes—glazed over from the torment of the lesson—lit right up.

“So early?”

Qian Xingzhi pushed over to his bicycle. “Dismissed early again? Did the kid get a stomachache again?”

“Mm.”

“Damn, you’ve got it good. Stomachaches three days out of five, and full pay every time?”

“Mm.”

“So, is this kid making up PE credits? I wanna teach him too.”

“…”

Around that time, Shen Li was skipping the first two evening self-study periods every day for tutoring gigs. Afterward, he’d rush home to check on his mom.

Her condition had taken a severe turn—a rare illness that the hospital couldn’t treat. Traditional Chinese medicine advised slow recuperation at home.

On the surface, Shen Li seemed fine, but he was utterly drained, gripped by extreme anxiety. His mood was in the gutter.

Once Qian Xingzhi learned about Shen Li’s mom, he’d skip evening self-study every few days to tag along and help look after her for a bit.

Not every single day, of course—it depended on whether the disciplinary director was taking a post-dinner stroll by the school gate or if the math teacher had dragged him off by the ear to the office for a pop quiz.

But whenever Qian Xingzhi could slip away, he’d keep Shen Li company, offering a kind of noisy, punch-in-the-face brand of support.

“Did you see it today? Old Ban had his shirt on backward.”

“Mm.”

“What do you feel like eating? Shaxian snacks, rice noodles, or Nanjing soup dumplings?”

“Mm.”

“You love going ‘mm’ so much—how about you be my wife?”

“Mm.”

By the time Shen Li let out that “mm,” he’d actually registered what Qian Xingzhi had asked.

But his exhausted brain was a total blank slate, logic completely offline. He just wanted to blurt out whatever came to mind.

People didn’t drop dead only in old age—they could go anytime.

Exams, futures, gender, personality, life plans—none of it mattered in that second. Shen Li wanted no part of it.

And so, later that day, Shen Li skipped class for the first time—blowing off the third evening self-study session. Instead, he wandered the entire night market with his brand-new boyfriend.

Qian Xingzhi held one of his hands while Shen Li clutched a balloon he’d just bought for Qian Xingzhi in the other.

In a dim, pitch-black alley, the balloon slipped free and floated away on the breeze.

And just like that, two hours into their relationship, Qian Xingzhi scooped Shen Li into his arms. Together, they fumbled their way through their first kiss.

Qian Xingzhi’s kisses were always passionate, much like the man himself.

“—Danren?”

Yang Zhiqi’s voice cut in, sounding like someone who’d never touched the internet. “What’s a danren? An egg person? Someone with eggs?”

He cracked himself up.

Ke Jiujiu explained, “A danren’s someone who’s super laid-back about everything—even relationships. No big passions, no wild loves or hates.”

Yao Shuang rolled her eyes at Yang Zhiqi, then glanced at Shen Li.

Worried he might not want to dive in, she jumped in for him. “Eh, I think it’s fine, actually. From what I know about them… at least one of them isn’t that laid-back, right?”

She left it vague, which only stoked everyone’s curiosity.

Lin Xu thought back to the terror of Qian Xingzhi grabbing him by the collar and hoisting him off the cot. Qian Xingzhi definitely had strong boundaries, so the corner of his mouth twitched as he said, “Ah, yeah, I get it. Brother Qian’s no pushover, haha. Shen Li, you must be super sweet to him in private, right? I just can’t picture how two icebergs like you guys ever clicked!”

Shen Li: ..

Shen Li’s brows furrowed as he let out a silent sigh.

Strictly speaking, no, that wasn’t it.

“I’m trying,” Shen Li replied.

【What does “trying” even mean? Trying to be sweeter?】

【Dying to see High-Cold Little Cat turn into Sweet Treasure Little Kitty—what would that even look like? [so expectant]】

“Hm? Trying what?”

Qian Xingzhi’s cool, low voice rippled in from the doorway. Sunlight was spilling across the long corridor outside.

Everyone held their breath and turned. Qian Xingzhi strode in leisurely, his tall frame crossing the hall in just a few steps. He settled back down beside Shen Li and repeated himself: “What was that? What are you trying to do?”

Shen Li paused for a beat.

Seeing Qian Xingzhi like this, he knew everything had been handled.

“They asked if I’m sweet to you in private,” Shen Li said evenly, his tone flat but laced with a hint of intimacy. “Am I? Beats me. You tell them.”

He tossed the question right back.

Qian Xingzhi’s gaze darkened.

To outsiders, Shen Li might not scream “sweet” at all.

But Qian Xingzhi’s mind instantly flooded with memories.

Like, not even twenty-four hours earlier, when Shen Li had shattered his own boundaries to show Qian Xingzhi his phone—the pinned chat, the updated contact name.

Even when pissed, Shen Li never truly lashed out at him. And last night… Shen Li’s body straining to accommodate him, that slender waist quivering faintly, those thin lips stubbornly silent…

Shen Li was sweet as hell.

If he weren’t, why would Qian Xingzhi still be lost in this obsession after twenty years—utterly hooked?

“Mm. He’s pretty sweet.”

Qian Xingzhi confirmed it, flicking a sidelong glance at Shen Li.

He switched on his actor mode, nerves taut, barely keeping his lips from curving into a smile.

【AHHHH HE’S SO SWEET!!!】

【I bet he’s just bragging [lights cig] but zero proof [lights cig]】

【OMG, Shen Li’s sweet? Does that mean he babies Qian Xingzhi? Total sweet sub, cold dom vibes?】

【Classic setup: Iceberg dom spoils mushy soft sub?】

【But these past few days… somehow I can’t picture it [bawling]】

【Lmao stop fighting it! Official confirmation—I’m vindicated! Told those cpf group doubters yesterday! Knew Shen Li’s the proactive one! Seven-year sweet-only stan turned CP shipper! Clocked Qian Xingzhi from day one! They wouldn’t listen!!!】

【Ugh, but why do I keep thinking the real Little Bear Soft Candy—the one icy on the outside, gooey within—is someone else entirely? [puzzled]】

“Yo~ So that’s the real Brother Shen!” Ke Jiujiu hollered. “Come on, Brother Qian—what’s the sweetest thing Brother Shen’s ever done for you?”

It was Shen Li tilting his head up into a kiss. It was Shen Li shyly yielding to him. It was Shen Li agreeing to marriage without a second’s hesitation.

Every moment he’d tested Shen Li’s feelings and never been turned away—aside from that rocky initial confession.

Qian Xingzhi picked something safe to share. “I said we should get married, and he agreed.”

“Yo!” Zhen Tian’s voice brimmed with excitement. “During the proposal, did Brother Shen do anything extra sweet?”

Shen Li stared at him blankly, brows knitting tighter by the second, voice distracted. “He said let’s get married. I said okay, let’s go.”

Zhen Tian’s teeth practically chattered. “J-just… like that?”

Shen Li: “.”

Everyone: ?

【Wtf, two total blanks?!】

【But that doesn’t really show off how sweet Cat Cat is, does it?】

【Yeah, their vibe’s so weird.】

Yao Shuang could tell neither wanted to play along much longer, so she steered things forward. “Okay, Teacher Shen—what’s the lowest point you’ve ever hit in the relationship?”

Shen Li’s gaze skimmed over Yao Shuang’s profile. His fingertip idly rubbed the base of his ring finger. Dissecting their past on camera didn’t sit right with him, but he answered truthfully anyway. “Probably when he mentioned divorce.”

Shen Li wasn’t lying.

Those divorce days, he’d holed up at home, unable to reach Qian Xingzhi by phone. The grief had been overwhelming.

Qian Xingzhi met his eyes with a pained look. “Sorry” hung heavy between them, worth more than gold—until Shen Li shook his head with a quiet “It’s fine.”

To the onlookers, though, it landed feather-light.

From way across the room, Yang Zhiqi protested, “Hey, come on, you two! Are you even taking these questions seriously, or is there really nothing to say?”

Zhen Tian forced a toothy grin, grinding his teeth. “I mean, you guys have known each other since high school—shouldn’t there be tons of stories?”

Li Weiwei shot back with a sarcastic edge. “Nothing like yours, I’m sure. Not nearly as ‘thrilling,’ huh?”

Zhen Tian’s mouth twisted into a pout. He clenched his jaw but didn’t dare clap back—or say a word.

The peanut gallery online was losing it, flooding forums and the livestream chat.

【Okay, so peak sweet is the wedding, rock bottom is the divorce? Y’all messing with us? Think we’re clowns?】

【Is there seriously nothing else? Waaah my ship’s sinking again QAQ】

【Qian calling him sweet was probably just polite.】

【Laid-back duo CONFIRMED [explodes]】

【Had me scared for a sec, thought the Shen Li I’ve seen lately was OOC. Nope! [happy cat]】

【Why does it feel like a contract marriage? Strangers who got pressured into it, grabbed an old classmate as a roommate for life, kept separate lives with zero sparks, then split easy-peasy?】

【Yeah, like that bit the other night—no shared accounts after marriage.】

【Is it even a real marriage? Shen Li said he wouldn’t divorce over bedroom issues… what if it’s asexual all the way?】

【Straight-up sham marriage? Wouldn’t put it past ’em.】

The meal finally wrapped up.

Director Li declared Yao Shuang’s mission a success and promptly handed out career hints for the guests, along with the next game round.

Yao Shuang said her goodbyes and made her triumphant exit. The guests, meanwhile, piled back into the cabin for the air conditioning, breaking off into little clusters for desultory chats.

Kris, whose energy had stayed low the whole time, didn’t linger in the living room. She headed straight to her room.

The rest scattered around the living room in twos and threes, musing on family, marriage, even gender dynamics.

Only Shen Li and Qian Xingzhi hung back in the garden, steering clear of the cameras’ direct line of sight. They claimed a bench farther out, where the fixed shots could snag just a profile.

And so…

As the summer cicadas’ chorus rose in thick, trembling waves from the hydrangea bushes, light spots danced across the iris-blue canopy of the parasol, like scraps of cellophane candy wrappers scattered on the ground.

The two men sat shoulder to shoulder in quiet companionship. Shen Li asked Qian Xingzhi how things were going.

“I’ve already gotten in touch with people,” Qian Xingzhi replied. “They’re working hard to verify everything. We should have results by this afternoon. Forging documents is definitely a crime, but since Zhen Tian forged foreign ones, it’s a bit trickier to handle.”

“Don’t rush it,” Shen Li said. “I think this guy’s got an even bigger problem.”

“What problem?” Qian Xingzhi asked.

Shen Li’s voice was calm and even. “Fingertip pads burning hot and red, temporomandibular joint dysfunction, temporalis muscle abnormally bulging, carotid pulse visibly throbbing, iris tremors lasting more than five seconds—you know what symptoms those point to?”

Qian Xingzhi’s eyes narrowed suddenly, and his previously relaxed knuckles tapped lightly against the rosewood tabletop.

“You’re sure?” he asked Shen Li.

“Yeah,” Shen Li replied without the slightest hesitation. “I watched him a bit longer after you left. No mistake— he’s definitely using.”

“. . . So what’s your plan?”

Shen Li’s sharp brows furrowed tightly, a faint redness at the corners of his eyes. He unconsciously rubbed his waist. “There have been too many accidents on this show lately. Su Xilan’s sudden exit a few days ago, Cao Sheng’s incident yesterday, and Zhen Tian’s commotion at lunch today was already a big deal. If we add suspected drug use on top of that, the backlash could shut the whole program down. Then Jiang Nan and the 0225 Case wouldn’t get exposed, and the village’s live stream channel wouldn’t even be set up yet.”

Qian Xingzhi didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, let’s hold off for now. Not many days left anyway. We can bundle it with the Jiang Nan stuff later.”

It was the sixth day of filming for the ten-day program—they were already into the second half.

Shen Li hadn’t had deep discussions with Qian Xingzhi before filming started, but when he signed the contract with the Program Group, he had negotiated terms upfront.

The Program Group had agreed that once their basic info was revealed, they would promote the village’s agricultural products live stream to help build its followers. It would also let Shen Li publicize the need for teachers at the village school, inviting education majors to come teach.

The show’s traffic had exploded lately, drawing plenty of toxic viewers. On top of that, Qian Xingzhi’s rivals were watching for any slip-up, filing reports left and right.

“If Zhen Tian doesn’t expose himself, we let it lie,” Shen Li said, his clear voice steady and uninflected. “More than anything, I’m curious about his source. Your circle must have plenty of these types. I want to know how they’re getting their supply.”

“Heh.”

A short, abrupt huff escaped Qian Xingzhi’s throat. Shen Li’s hand paused on his waist, and his cool gaze flicked over. “. . . What?”

Qian Xingzhi leaned in suddenly, murmuring right by his ear. “Nothing. Just thinking about this bizarre performance boost. Kinda wanna laugh.”

Shen Li: . .

“You’re too close . . . back off a bit . . .”

Shen Li startled and reflexively glanced at the camera. The fixed position was far enough away that it should only catch their profiles.

With Qian Xingzhi leaning in like this, it probably wouldn’t pick him up either.

【Ahhh, get the camera closer! Closer! Don’t you know we’re here to watch certain people?! So unprofessional!】

【Yeah, yeah! Fixed camera’s too far. Can’t you add a roving one?】

【Chat’s been begging for 10 minutes! Observation room, nudge the director already?! You guys really ignore what the audience wants?!】

【Holy shit! Yes! Lmao, what’s this spy cam angle? Filming from the bushes? Hahaha!】

【These two love playing hide-and-seek [lol] I wanna hear what they’re whispering behind our backs [lol]】

Hidden by the foliage, the photographer’s camera extended from the bushes, zooming in tight.

It captured their profiles—and Qian Xingzhi’s hand resting on Shen Li’s waist, gently massaging it.

Qian Xingzhi’s voice was muffled: “Sorry . . . next time . . . “

Shen Li’s was even softer, like a murmured “mm” or maybe “no”?

【??? What? What?! I can’t hear!!!】

【Help, they look so intimate?! Like they’re one second from kissing!!!】

【These guys are weird. Why do they seem nothing like those work-buddy vibes from dinner now?!?!】

【What’s the big deal? Masseurs rub like that too. And didn’t bro just say Shen Li’s the one chasing him?】

【Jar Sis isn’t just tough mentally—her imagination’s next level. He said Shen Li’s sweet!!! When did he say Shen Li’s chasing him?! Didn’t you see your bro looking all guilty?! Shen Li says jump, he asks how high!】

【So what? My bro’s just a good guy doing caregiver duty.】

【No matter how hard CPFs squirm, it doesn’t change that they’re probably fake-married real classmates.】

But in the footage—

Qian Xingzhi nuzzled his fluffy head closer, giving the spot above Shen Li’s earlobe a light nip.

Then came a soft kiss, fluttering onto Shen Li’s cheek like a butterfly’s wing.

【?!?!?!】

Shen Li turned his head, blocking his pale but flushed earlobe with his wrist.

Qian Xingzhi, ever the preemptively accusing villain, raised his cool, deep voice just a touch while dropping its pitch:

“Why block it? Move your hand.”

Smack!

A solid slap landed on Qian Xingzhi’s head, like thwacking a ripe watermelon.

Shen Li’s voice was cool and proper,

yet laced with gentle indulgence, not true anger:

“. . . Did I say you could kiss me?”