Chapter 10: What’s Wrong?
In Wei Langxing’s eyes, there wasn’t a single flaw in Tang Yu’an.
He was like water, seeping quietly into every corner of life, becoming indispensable before you even realized it.
After all, who could live without water?
Wei Langxing had become accustomed to searching for Tang Yu’an first thing in the morning, then sharing with him all the news he had seen on the StarNet or the fragmented remnants of his dreams.
No matter what he said, Tang Yu’an never showed impatience, always responding appropriately, letting him know that every word was heard.
Wei Langxing gradually became more talkative, sometimes even making a fool of himself with slips of the tongue, becoming incoherent.
It wasn’t his fault; it was hard to concentrate when faced with a face as beautiful as a work of art.
He noticed that Tang Yu’an didn’t seem to like taking pictures, but he wouldn’t refuse if asked.
That was how they got their first photo together. Tang Yu’an had finally recovered, and Wei Langxing bought him a fruit cake to celebrate.
“Such an important day, we should take a picture.”
Although Tang Yu’an didn’t understand what was so celebratory about not needing medication anymore, seeing Wei Langxing so excited, he couldn’t dampen his mood, so he nodded and agreed to take a picture together.
With someone else there, he could avoid the camera.
He didn’t like recording such moments, knowing he would eventually leave, unable to leave any trace. Such photos would only bring him sorrow.
But Wei Langxing pulled him from behind and smeared a bit of cream on his face.
“You look like a little kitten.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Bad?! How could it be? Don’t be silly… You’re always the best.”
“Now you’re being silly.” Tang Yu’an shoved a piece of cake into Wei Langxing’s mouth.
It wasn’t that tool-men couldn’t receive praise or develop feelings for protagonists, but once their mission was complete, their purpose was fulfilled.
They existed as outsiders to correct errors. Once the errors were corrected, the protagonists would embark on their own splendid lives, no longer needing tool-men.
Therefore, their memories and feelings for the tool-man would gradually fade until they disappeared completely. No one would remember him, and everything would return to normal.
After completing a mission, Tang Yu’an would usually stay in that world for a while. In one world, he had been the protagonist’s partner, sharing everything, inseparable.
During that time, he felt a sense of belonging, he was happy. The smokescreen of friendship blinded him, making him forget his identity.
Until the mission was complete, and he watched as his former friend gradually distanced himself, the warmth in his eyes turning to indifference.
Finally, the memories were completely erased. When he saw him again, the other man’s gaze simply passed over him.
They became strangers.
The protagonist, as he had wished, became a famous star. Tang Yu’an looked up at the large screen displaying his advertisement, glamorous and promising.
He remembered the protagonist, still a struggling actor in a rented apartment, saying that if he ever made it big, the first thing he would do was buy his dream house and move in with him.
Sharing hardship, and of course, sharing happiness.
“Yu’an, would you be willing to live with me forever? I promise you’ll have a share of everything I own. We’ll drive sports cars around the world, see the ocean you’ve always wanted to see, okay?”
What had his answer been back then?
Oh right, he had said, “If you wish, of course.”
“Then it’s settled! You promised, you can’t leave me… I put our picture in your wallet. We’re bound together now!”
He had truly believed that promise. Thinking back now, he really… hadn’t known his place, creating unnecessary trouble for himself.
He had watched the advertisement repeatedly. A young girl approached, asking if he was also a fan.
“Is that… a photo of you and gege (older brother)? Oh my god, I’m so envious!”
He smiled, giving the photo to the girl.
“I’m not standing next to him. You can cut me out.”
He left after saying that, leaving the confused girl standing there.
The girl looked down at Tang Yu’an’s face in the photo, suddenly feeling that his beauty even overshadowed the star next to him.
Perhaps it was because he had been wearing a mask when he spoke to her that she hadn’t noticed earlier.
But when she tried to call out to him, he had already disappeared.
That day, Tang Yu’an walked the streets alone for a long time. Perhaps he looked too lost, as even kind strangers approached, asking if he had been robbed and needed help.
He shook his head, clutching his teddy bear.
“Thank you, but all my belongings are here.”
The rest, he couldn’t keep.
Wei Langxing’s voice pulled him back from his memories.
He waved a hand in front of his face: “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”
Wei Langxing noticed that Tang Yu’an would occasionally zone out, as if lost in thought. Whenever he did this, he seemed melancholic, making Wei Langxing’s heart ache.
He wanted to know if the seemingly calm and gentle Tang Yu’an had any worries, but whenever he asked, Tang Yu’an would either evade the question or change the subject.
This frustrated Wei Langxing. He wanted to understand Tang Yu’an’s inner world, but the other man relentlessly shut him out.
This time, Tang Yu’an did it again—
He smeared cake on his face.
“I’m not unwell, just thinking about how to get back at you… Now you’re a little kitten too!”
He succeeded; Wei Langxing’s attention was indeed diverted. But he didn’t register what Tang Yu’an had said, staring at his cream-covered fingers.
Tang Yu’an felt uncomfortable under his gaze, realizing his own impropriety—
Wei Langxing had used a fork, but he had used his fingers, which was unrefined, and the sticky cream made it difficult to hold the plate.
So, he brought his fingers to his lips and licked off the cream: “No waste.”
Wei Langxing’s eyes moved mechanically, his gaze shifting from his fingers to his lips, finally settling on the cream he had smeared on his cheek.
His mind felt rusty, filled with the words “no waste.”
Could the cream on his face also be… not wasted? Could he help…?
The camera’s countdown timer snapped him back to reality, making him realize how absurd his thoughts were.
How could he… have such thoughts about a teammate…?
Fortunately, he hadn’t acted on impulse. Otherwise, Tang Yu’an would really think he was a perverted hypocrite!
He coughed, putting one hand in his pocket, trying to lean against the table with the other to strike a pose, forgetting he had moved the table earlier to make room for the cake.
He stumbled, falling backwards. Tang Yu’an rushed forward to catch him, but the difference in their weight brought them both down, Tang Yu’an falling on top of him, his forehead bumping against his cheek.
The camera clicked, capturing the moment.
Wei Langxing loved this photo. Although his posture wasn’t elegant, the more he looked at Tang Yu’an, the more satisfied he felt. His eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted, his hair falling across his forehead.
Like a little kitten that had just knocked everything off a table, Wei Langxing thought, finding the most fitting description.
Cute to death.
I’m not exaggerating, he thought, Tang Yu’an was perfect no matter what.
He believed this himself, and projected this belief onto others.
It was like the rising and setting of the sun, the law of gravity, a natural truth no one would question.
So, when he saw that message, his first reaction was disbelief.
Since Tang Yu’an had never mentioned his family, he assumed they weren’t close, but he hadn’t thought further.
He couldn’t imagine anyone saying such a thing to Tang Yu’an.
His second reaction was rage, a primal, overwhelming fury that surged through him.
Tang Yu’an, head down, looking at his phone, didn’t notice the erupting volcano beside him.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen the message, he just thought it was probably just a quarrel, nothing serious.
Still searching for photos, he scrolled through the earlier messages.
He discovered that his communication with his younger brother was simple, mostly one-sided money transfers from him.
Initially, his brother would thank him, but later he stopped.
After scrolling for a long time, he didn’t find any photos. It wasn’t a big deal, so he decided to let it go.
“Sorry, I don’t think I have any pictures… What’s wrong?”
Wei Langxing stared at him, looking murderous.
Was he this angry just because he didn’t have any family photos to show him?
That seemed excessive…
