Chapter 21

The person Chen Gu was thinking of while queuing for bubble tea was indeed sitting upright in the restaurant, studying legal articles.

After silently memorizing a few, he switched to Bar Exam prep videos, put in his earphones, and watched.

The Liangpi arrived faster than the other snacks. After it was served, Jiang Mian indeed didn’t eat, waiting for Chen Gu.

Jiang Mian felt Chen Gu had gone to buy him bubble tea. Eating without waiting for Chen Gu to return would be very impolite.

Even though Chen Gu had told him to start without him.

Jiang Mian watched videos for a while before receiving a DingDong message from Xiang Wei.

He exited to check and found Xiang Wei had sent him photos of a gallery exhibition.

He opened one, and the first thing he noticed wasn’t the eerily vibrant oil painting, but the signature at the bottom—Sleep.

The ‘S’ was written with a flourish, like a sharply curved hook, so assertive it almost flew out of the signature area.

Jiang Mian paused.

[Xiang Wei: Mianmian, look, this is a painting by the artist I mentioned to you before. Remember?]

Of course, Jiang Mian remembered.

Because “Sleep” was Chen Gu.

Come to think of it, why did Chen Gu choose “Sleep” as his name?

Jiang Mian’s mind wandered slightly. Just then, Chen Gu arrived beside him with the bubble tea and sat down.

Placing the cup of pearl milk tea in front of Jiang Mian, Chen Gu inadvertently glanced at his phone screen.

Chen Gu raised an eyebrow slightly. “This painting… I remember selling it to an overseas gallery when I was eighteen.”

Jiang Mian snapped back to reality, instinctively turning off his phone screen as if to hide something.

But after switching it off, remembering Chen Gu had already seen it, Jiang Mian could only turn it back on. He replied “Yeah” to Xiang Wei while simultaneously saying “Yeah” to Chen Gu.

After the second “Yeah,” he realized it might be insufficient and belatedly added, “My mom sent it to me. She’s at a gallery.”

Chen Gu picked up the chopsticks, wiped them, and placed them before Jiang Mian. As Jiang Mian murmured thanks, he wiped his own pair. “Auntie is into these things too?”

“She’s always had a high enthusiasm for artistic things.” Jiang Mian spoke truthfully. “She’s a cellist in an orchestra.”

So Xiang Wei’s bones were filled entirely with romanticism.

Chen Gu was a little surprised. “That’s great. Can you play?”

Jiang Mian shook his head, not elaborating.

Xiang Wei and Jiang Liaoyi divorced when he was three. Jiang Mian’s memories of that time were practically zero, just very short fragments. In his memories, there was only Jiang Liaoyi at home. Xiang Wei visited occasionally, but those times weren’t enough to teach him the cello.

Later, someone else came to live at home—a distant relative on Jiang Liaoyi’s mother’s side, a cousin’s grandson… in short, a relative by blood.

Jiang Mian hadn’t lived with Xiang Wei.

He also didn’t have memories of seeing Xiang Wei’s cello.

But he imagined it must be very beautiful.

Because Jiang Liaoyi had told him, the first time he saw Xiang Wei was when she was on stage, looking down gently, tenderly playing the cello.

The dark-colored cello and her white garment overlapped. That day, he knew he had fallen for her.

…

Chen Gu keenly detected a sudden dip in Jiang Mian’s mood. He smoothly changed the subject. “I saw you spacing out earlier. What were you thinking about?”

Jiang Mian paused. Initially wanting to say “nothing,” the words somehow turned into, “Thinking about why you’re called ‘Sleep’.”

Chen Gu chuckled softly, watching Jiang Mian lower his eyes and take small bites of Liangpi after speaking. “That name was actually chosen very casually. I never imagined it would stay with me for so long and even become famous.”

Jiang Mian nibbled on a carrot shred in his Liangpi, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

He heard Chen Gu say, “The first time I provided a painting for a gallery, I was… sixteen? The gallery staff called to ask whether the signature was my real name or a pseudonym. I had just spent a few days and nights in the studio and was so tired I only wanted to sleep. So I just blurted out ‘Sleep’.”

At the time, Chen Gu truly never thought his paintings could one day fetch such high prices. The name was genuinely chosen half-heartedly and casually.

He never expected the word “Sleep” would accompany him for four years—from an unknown little artist to someone whose works people now offer sky-high prices to acquire.

Especially…

Chen Gu curved his eyes, saying meaningfully, “And this name has a connection with you.”

Jiang Mian didn’t pick up on that statement.

But inside, he knew the connection ran deeper than Chen Gu implied.

The origin of his name was also simple. Jiang Liaoyi said that when Xiang Wei was pregnant with him, she always slept poorly. Because whenever Xiang Wei lay down, Jiang Mian would stir up a storm in her belly, leaving Jiang Liaoyi’s own spirit exhausted.

So, they named him Jiang Mian—hoping he would be quieter after birth and give them more sleep time.

It was late, so eating was the priority. After briefly chatting about those couple of things, the two focused on their meal.

Jiang Mian had also ordered fried skewers, fried custard milk cubes, and curry fish balls. Chen Gu added a serving of honeyed turtle jelly. Splitting the food, by the end, Jiang Mian had only eaten about a third of the sides, but this food intake was already much more than his usual.

Maybe because he had company.

Jiang Mian thought, he’d heard before that if you have a dining companion, your appetite can be better than usual.

As Chen Gu was finishing the leftovers, Jiang Mian’s gaze casually swept around and unexpectedly landed on a familiar figure ordering at the front counter.

He stood up, remembered something, and under Chen Gu’s surprised gaze, murmured, “I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting for Chen Gu to reply, Jiang Mian headed over.

“Brother.”

Jiang Mian initiated the greeting. “What are you doing here?”

The man ordering wore a casual long-sleeved dress shirt, covering his arms. But when he lifted his hand, the knotted muscles hidden beneath were visible.

Rong Xun glanced down at him, his tone flat. “He likes this shop’s Liangpi.”

Jiang Mian understood. “You’re going to see Yu Jin later?”

Yu Jin was Rong Xun’s Beloved. Jiang Mian had heard Rong Xun mention him a few times—when Rong Xun was drunk or gravely injured.

In the latter cases, most of it was Rong Xun telling him, if he didn’t survive this time, there were things he’d need Jiang Mian’s help keeping an eye on later.

Because Yu Jin had no one to rely on and was ill, living in the neurology hospital.

Rong Xun “mm”-ed. His attitude wasn’t warm, but compared to how he treated others, it was clearly better. “Out with a friend?”

He asked, his gaze flicking to the person who was watching them closely, a slight raise of his eyebrow. “Chen Yishen?”

But it didn’t look like him.

Chen Yishen didn’t have this kind of presence.

And Chen Yishen wouldn’t be watching Jiang Mian so possessively.

“No.” Jiang Mian said honestly. “It’s his older brother.”

Since Rong Xun was getting takeout, he had to wait a bit.

He turned, leaning against the counter to chat with Jiang Mian and pass the time. “I remember now. Chen Gu, right? Got to know him through Chen Yishen?”

Jiang Mian was a little surprised Rong Xun knew of him, but still nodded without asking further.

Rong Xun thoughtfully glanced again at Chen Gu, finally pulling this person from his memory.

Chen Gu had already finished his meal and was sitting there, leisurely biting his straw and drinking his pearl milk tea.

He had the exact same face as Chen Yishen, including those harmless, seemingly innocent and pure puppy-dog eyes.

But he was definitely not the same type of fool as Chen Yishen.

When Rong Xun’s eyes met his, the danger and warning in Chen Gu’s gaze nearly broke free.

Rong Xun scoffed inwardly and asked Jiang Mian, “Are you two dating?”

Jiang Mian: “…”

His eyes widened, and it took him several slow beats to process. “Brother, what are you saying…”

Rong Xun glanced at him, his tone still flat, yet carrying a hint of casualness as he bluntly and straightforwardly pointed out what Jiang Mian had sensed but refused to admit: “He likes you.”

Just as Rong Xun finished speaking, Chen Gu, who had been waiting for five minutes, didn’t want to wait any longer.

Especially since he couldn’t hear their conversation but could see Jiang Mian seemed very familiar with that man.

And he knew exactly who that man was.

They could even be considered acquaintances.

That man practically controlled the economic pulse of the South Boundary.

Chen Yishen had never told him Jiang Mian knew him.

In Chen Gu’s perspective, besides Chen Yishen, the person Jiang Mian was closest to should be him.

And now, someone Chen Yishen hadn’t mentioned, someone who would make Jiang Mian proactively approach, had appeared.

And that forum thread about Jiang Mian never mentioned his existence either.

Chen Gu walked up behind the stunned Jiang Mian, his slightly lowered voice ringing out. “Jiang Mian.”

Jiang Mian, who hadn’t noticed Chen Gu approaching at all, instinctively turned. Rong Xun’s “He likes you” was still echoing in his head, making his nerves taut, instinctively wanting to step back two paces.

But he was standing right between Chen Gu and Rong Xun. Moving back like that would mean bumping into Rong Xun.

Rong Xun was his blood-related brother; it would be fine with him. But Chen Gu didn’t know that.

Without hesitation, Chen Gu reached out, grabbed Jiang Mian’s wrist, pulled him forward a couple of steps, but ultimately didn’t let Jiang Mian’s momentum carry him into his chest. “Careful.”

He’s gripping so tight.

That was Jiang Mian’s first reaction.

Because the pain was the first thing to reach his senses.

And Chen Gu hadn’t let go yet.

Just then, Rong Xun’s Liangpi order was ready. He hooked the plastic bag with his finger. The cinnabar mole on his knuckle stood out vividly on his cool, pale skin. Without any pointless eye contact with Chen Gu, he simply left. After all, Jiang Mian was his little brother; Chen Gu’s hostility was just laughable. “Later.”

Jiang Mian was utterly dazed as he said goodbye to Rong Xun.

In fact, Jiang Mian wasn’t entirely sure how Chen Gu led him out of the Liangpi shop and into the underground parking lot.

He just knew that the whole way, Chen Gu hadn’t loosened his grip.

He was holding him so tightly.

As if afraid that if he relaxed just a little, Jiang Mian would slip away.

It wasn’t until they needed to get in the car that Chen Gu finally released Jiang Mian. Still dazed, Jiang Mian didn’t notice Chen Gu standing by while he got in, closing the door, locking the passenger side before walking around to the driver’s seat.

Sitting in the passenger seat, with the newly activated AC blowing, Jiang Mian’s head was still buzzing slightly.

Actually… he had sensed something.

Jiang Mian usually trusted his intuition very much. Only in this matter did he think his feelings were wrong.

He believed he was being presumptuous, which is why he consistently refused to face the many strange details between him and Chen Gu.

Because he thought it was impossible.

Someone like Chen Gu—outgoing, one could say. At least not like him.

Chen Gu, if he wanted someone to like him, they would. He could handle all interpersonal relations, and was so skilled in so many things.

Why would someone so dazzling like him?

“Jiang Mian.”

Chen Gu locked the car doors, frowning at the person who seemed utterly lost. “What did he say to you?”

Jiang Mian, still unable to react properly, blurted out the truth on impulse: “My brother says you like me.”