The small city’s airport was also small. The moment he exited the terminal, Zhu Huai saw Qi Baojia’s slightly stout figure waiting outside.
Zhu Huai wore a face mask, his figure slender and straight. He had on a white hoodie inside and a plaid casual blazer outside, with black jeans perfectly showcasing his long legs. He stood out noticeably in the crowd.
Qi Baojia spotted him at once and waved his hands vigorously. “Little Huai, over here.”
Zhu Huai had only brought a small suitcase this time. Qi Baojia took it from him. “Tired from work? Busy? Your mom went out early this morning to buy groceries. Can you stay a few extra days this time?”
The two walked with the flow of people toward the parking lot. Hearing this, Zhu Huai shook his head. “Can’t. Once your birthday is over, I have to go back. New job.”
A flicker of disappointment passed through Qi Baojia’s eyes, but thinking that Zhu Huai had finally regained some work, he didn’t urge him further.
The two got into the car—Qi Baojia had driven his taxi. Zhu Huai sat in the back seat and powered on his phone, which had been off for three hours. Half a minute later, messages surged in unceasingly. He flipped through them casually; nothing important. Just as he was about to turn off the phone and take a nap, a Weibo notification popped up on the screen. It was from his special follow.
Sword Shadow: Martial World (Mobile Game) V:
The strong aim for the summit, the brave dare to climb. In the martial world, grudges are avenged with gusto~
The second Hero Cup open qualifiers have been underway for half a month. How are your results, warriors? Have you reached the goals you set? Teams ranked within the open qualifiers, keep pushing! Warriors who haven’t made the qualifier rankings, don’t lose heart—nothing is set in stone until the very end~
There are still 15 days until the qualifiers end. Keep working hard, warriors!
Also!! Next Thursday, the Sword Shadow mobile game ambassador @Meng Xingyu will bring a surprise for everyone—stay tuned!
A perfectly ordinary, normal post. But it was also very un-ordinary and un-normal.
Because the account that had most recently liked it was clearly displayed—Jiang Sheli V.
Zhu Huai slowly widened his eyes, and only one thought occupied his mind.
Jiang Sheli plays Sword Shadow mobile???
After scrolling through the comments for a while, netizens had also noticed the like and were asking for his server and ID everywhere. But Jiang Sheli went silent after the like, as if it had been an accidental slip.
Finding no useful information, Zhu Huai simply opened his WeChat chat with Jiang Sheli and, suppressing his excitement and nervousness, sent a message.
【Brother Jiang, do you also play Sword Shadow mobile?】
There was no response for a good while. Zhu Huai guessed he was busy filming on set.
He waited patiently, but even after arriving home, there was still no reply.
His mother, having not seen her son for a long time, hugged him and fussed endlessly, adding another layer of callus to his ears. Only when he said he was hungry did she stop.
He hadn’t eaten much on the plane, and he was genuinely hungry. Since dinner time wasn’t far off, his mother simply started dinner early—noodles.
Last time, the family had made beef sauce—fragrant and spicy. Zhu Huai scooped a heaping spoonful. On top of the noodles sat a fried egg, the white tender and the yolk golden, looking appetizing enough to whet the appetite. Zhu Huai took a picture and, as usual, posted it to his Moments before digging in.
After the bowl of noodles, Zhu Huai was stuffed to the brim. He insistently rushed to wash the dishes, then lay on the sofa enjoying the rare lazy time, watching TV with his mother and stepfather.
The TV was playing a crime drama Jiang Sheli had starred in years ago. He played a lawyer, neatly dressed in a white shirt and black suit, tie knotted immaculately, looking ready to step onto a negotiation floor at any moment.
He led his team around gathering evidence, but things weren’t going smoothly. Even when he was exhausted, his clothes were perfectly neat—only his brow bone would rise sharply, making his eye sockets look deeper. His thin lips, pressed tightly, tilted down slightly. Irritability and restraint swirled around him, yet none of it showed on his face—a state only a seasoned veteran could achieve.
Zhu Huai didn’t remember a single thing about what the drama was really about. His eyes and mind followed Jiang Sheli’s character the entire time—watching his ease when trading wits with enemies, his unshaken expression when facing crisis, the proud, delighted curl of his lips when winning. No matter how he looked at it…
Handsome.
When Jiang Sheli wasn’t on screen, Zhu the face-con only wanted to fast-forward.
Two episodes played to the end without him noticing, the ending song rolling on the screen.
Zhu Huai searched online. Jiang Sheli had been just twenty-two when he filmed this drama—exactly Zhu Huai’s current age.
He couldn’t help covering his face. Why was the gap between people so vast?
His mother, wearing reading glasses, stared closely at the handsome man on TV. “This is Jiang Sheli, right? When I watched his shows in his younger days, he was still a kid. He’s so grown up now, and better looking too.”
Qi Baojia asked, “He should be married by now, right?”
Zhu Huai said quickly, “No, he’s single.”
His mother was surprised. “He’s not that young anymore, is he?”
“Not yet thirty.”
“Then he should have a girlfriend by now.”
Zhu Huai: “He doesn’t.”
Qi Baojia said, “You can’t be sure about that. These days, celebrities like to date in secret. What’s-his-name—he’d been married for ten years before it got reported.”
Zhu Huai was immediately struck speechless.
True. Jiang Sheli had never discussed his love life publicly and rarely had scandals, with an air of emotional detachment. But whether he actually had a partner, nobody could say for certain.
Zhu Huai’s thoughts wandered in all sorts of directions for a long time. After showering and drying his hair, he picked up his phone and opened WeChat. Jiang Sheli still hadn’t replied.
Since wrapping up and leaving the set, the common topics between him and Jiang Sheli had been cut off, and their contact had grown sparse. Zhu Huai didn’t feel right disturbing him with mundane details of daily life. Apart from the message he’d sent in the car, the most recent message was from three days ago—a little joke Zhu Huai had shared, to which Jiang Sheli had replied with a single period, indicating he’d read it.
Very distant.
–
After finishing the day’s scenes, Jiang Sheli declined Shen Peiping’s invitation to have a few drinks and had Li Yun drive him back to the hotel.
Li Yun returned the phone Jiang Sheli had left in his care. “Are you still in contact with Zhu Huai?”
Jiang Sheli hummed in acknowledgment, taking the phone without elaborating.
Li Yun looked at him, his mouth opening and closing a few times, brows tightly knit. He seemed to want to speak but held back, swallowing down the words repeatedly. It was a painful struggle.
Jiang Sheli asked, “Constipated?”
Li Yun choked on his breath, constantly reminding himself: can’t strangle him, can’t strangle him. If he dies, nobody will pay my salary.
Jiang Sheli said, with the weight of experience, “I’ve told you to fix that quick-tempered disposition of yours. Getting inflamed doesn’t just cause pimples and constipation—it also causes hair loss. Cherish that receding hairline of yours. You’re young; how did you go bald already?”
Fck you.
Li Yun silently recited the Great Compassion Mantra, squeezing the water bottle in his hand until it crackled, barely maintaining an agent’s dignity. “Strictly speaking, who you befriend is your own freedom. But this time, I’m advising you as a friend. You’re being good to someone with all your heart and soul. Don’t let it end up with you being used.”
Jiang Sheli looked at him strangely. “You seem to have quite a problem with Zhu Huai?”
“A little. But not much.” Li Yun recalled the little mess back then, then said, “Mostly I just look down on his agency. Artists from idol traffic backgrounds like Zhu Huai don’t have much freedom at all—everything is in the company’s hands. Look at Liu Qi from the same company. Last time he grabbed onto your follow and actively milked it for hype, as if afraid no one would notice, and even bought his way to number one on hot search.”
Jiang Sheli’s brow furrowed slightly. “Following him was Old Man Shen’s request. Liu Qi has some connections with an investor. I didn’t want to put Old Man Shen in a difficult position.”
Li Yun spread his hands. “Will fans believe that?”
Jiang Sheli said nothing.
Li Yun continued, “Good thing you were clever and followed Zhu Huai right after to shift the attention. Otherwise, once this drama airs, the sky would be full of CP pieces about you and Liu Qi.”
Ever since same-sex marriage had been legalized, netizens who shipped male-male CPs no longer had any qualms—like prisoners who had served their sentences—and went all in with gleeful abandon. Several pairs of artists who had broken out of their circles saw their market value rise accordingly. Many companies saw the profit; if they could hype it, they never let it go. Some even had contract marriages.
“We’re not afraid of being latched onto, but once it sticks, it’s hard to peel off. Be careful. Don’t give anyone a chance to hype a CP with you.”
“I know.”
Li Yun sighed in relief, unscrewed the water bottle cap, and took a swig.
Jiang Sheli said, “Let me correct one point. I didn’t follow Zhu Huai to divert attention. I just wanted to follow him.”
Li Yun, who had just taken a mouthful of water, sprayed it out violently. Some went down his windpipe, choking him so hard his soul nearly separated from his body. His face flushed red, and he stared at Jiang Sheli with wide, horrified eyes, full of silent accusation—Have you finally lost your mind?
Li Yun caught his breath and said, in disbelief, “I talked for ages just now. Did you hear nothing?”
“I heard it. Does it conflict with following Zhu Huai?”
Jiang Sheli wore a simple white long-sleeved T-shirt. Even khaki casual pants couldn’t hide his long, sturdy legs. Even such a homey outfit somehow had an air of restraint on him.
He’d had few scandals since his debut, far more disciplined than many idols who live off girlfriend fans—practically a model of the entertainment industry. Countless people tried to attach themselves to him without success. Later, someone relied on a bit of acquaintance and asked him to casually hype a CP with an artist under his management. He had refused outright, so cold it was headache-inducing. When had anyone ever seen him put this much care into someone?
Li Yun looked at him with a strange expression and asked cautiously, “Hey.”
“You’re not really falling for Zhu Huai, are you?”
Jiang Sheli was looking for clothes to wash up in at the wardrobe. He gave Li Yun a strange look at the question. “Overthinking. Just ordinary friends.”
Like hell I believe that!
Li Yun’s tone was gloomy. “Sure, you only sent him ginger soup, only sent him a makeup artist, only added his WeChat among the cast, taught him to act hands-on, gave him a seven-figure wrap-up gift, and specially followed, liked, and commented on his Weibo—but I know. You’re just ordinary friends?”
He even added, “Real ordinary, huh.”
“Believe it or not.” Jiang Sheli grabbed his shower clothes, opened the door, and said coldly, “No need to see me out.”
Li Yun stepped out. He turned around, intending to flip a contemptuous middle finger, but the door slammed shut in his face with a bang.
Merciless and hard.
