——“You think if Xie Qi found out, he’d be pissed, huh?”
Before Wen Jiang could answer this pointless question, his phone rang. The two in the theater both turned to look at it in unison. The caller ID showed Qian Lang. Wen Tianlu curved his brows into a smile and stayed silent on the side, clearly gearing up to watch the drama.
Wen Jiang had no interest in guessing why the other man was so amused. He stared at the screen for a silent moment before picking up. “Hello.”
“Hello, hello, Xiao Jiang!” Qian Lang sounded thrilled on the other end. “I just talked to—uh, I mean, when did you and—”
He seemed eager to ask something but couldn’t quite string the words together. In the end, he just blurted, “Where are you right now? Got time?”
“…” Wen Jiang gave a vague reply. “Out.”
Wen Tianlu subtly raised a brow.
“Huh?” At this hour? Qian Lang paused, then asked, “Aren’t you performing tomorrow—hey, so when are you heading back?”
Wen Jiang stayed vague. “Not sure. In a bit.”
“Oh…” Qian Lang’s tone dipped a little. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but he felt like Wen Jiang wasn’t keen on giving him a straight answer.
Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal—friends didn’t need to pry too much. But Qian Lang had just gotten off the phone with Xie Qi, learning the bombshell that entrusting Friend No. 2 to look after Friend No. 1 had somehow led straight to them landing in bed—though he still didn’t know if they’d actually gone that far, and he wasn’t about to ask. Now he had a ton of questions to sort out.
Xie Qi, that tight-lipped type, wasn’t spilling anything anytime soon. Qian Lang stewed in his complicated mood for a bit before deciding the priority was to gauge Wen Jiang’s side of things first.
Like, when did this start? What’s the story? How’d it escalate like this? I didn’t sense any dating vibes. You’re not messing with me, right? How far’s it gone? What are you both even thinking? And… he didn’t force you, did he? Do you actually like him for real?
It felt like Qian Lang had been strolling carefree down the street when he suddenly got bombarded with a bunch of notes saying, “Xie Qi’s partner has ulterior motives and is just stringing him along.” Qian Lang had scoffed, thinking someone had balls to make up such crap, and promptly crumpled them up and tossed them in the trash.
But holy shit—Xie Qi had straight-up confirmed he had a partner, and that “person stringing Young Master Xie along” was none other than Wen Jiang?
Qian Lang’s hands shook as he fished the scraps out of the bin and pieced them back together. He glanced from the glaring “villain” label to Wen Jiang, who had that halo of the perfect good kid. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t spot a single commonality. He’d wanted to have a proper chat, but now Wen Jiang was out late at night, not telling him what he was up to!
After hesitating a bunch, Qian Lang couldn’t hold back. “So, are you alone right now?”
There was another stretch of silence on the line before that familiar voice replied calmly, “I’m with Wen Tianlu.”
Fuck, Qian Lang swore inwardly.
A guy and a girl alone together late at night—what the hell are you up to, Wen Tianlu? Wen Jiang becoming ‘your acquaintance’s boyfriend’ got you all excited, huh?
Qian Lang ranted furiously in his head and opened his mouth to warn Wen Jiang not to fall for it—the guy definitely wasn’t sincere! But in a flash, a strong sense of wrongness hit him.
Something’s off.
Considering what kind of person Wen Tianlu was, Qian Lang’s knee-jerk logic went like this: Wen Jiang and Xie Qi started dating, Wen Tianlu found out, and because he had that itch to break people up, he got all chummy with Wen Jiang to wedge himself in.
…Was that really it?
After the barrage of explosive info tonight, Qian Lang had almost forgotten: Wen Tianlu’s weirdness was something he and Wen Jiang had noticed and puzzled over long ago. Qian Lang was at least eighty percent sure that Wen Tianlu’s enthusiasm tied back to that mis-sent text.
He’d even tested Wen Tianlu on it, asked Wen Jiang if he had any engagement or liked playing around with cheating, made Wen Jiang send that “I’m single” text as a probe, and even considered making Wen Tianlu his backup “Wen Jiang caretaker No. 3” if the guy played himself into a corner.
No matter how he replayed it, the Wen Jiang in his memories showed zero signs of “I’ve already got a boyfriend.”
Damn it, why hide the dating from me? I’m not some feudal patriarch from two centuries ago. Xie Qi spilled it casually enough.
But if they weren’t hiding it from him, why hadn’t he seen even a hint of romance? Why send the “single” message without batting an eye? How the hell did you two even communicate about this?
Or maybe Wen Jiang and Xie Qi weren’t dating back then, so he acted all aboveboard? Did they only start after Wen Tianlu got weird? But that timeline doesn’t line up with when I heard Xie Qi had a partner.
Rumors took time to spread from spotting clues to reaching him outside Yanhai. Qian Lang had dismissed the dating gossip pretty early on. Do the math, and it seemed like Wen Jiang and Xie Qi had already been flirting before Wen Tianlu got weird.
…So when the hell did Wen Jiang and Xie Qi actually start dating?
This is a mess. I thought I should ask Wen Jiang, but now I’m thinking Xie Qi might be better.
Qian Lang grimaced and switched to speakerphone. While bantering with Xie Qi via text—“I did say I entrusted him to you, but how’d you go straight to dating?”—he kept chatting with Wen Jiang. “So, what do you think of him?”
Wen Jiang’s voice went flat as he gave the honest truth right in front of Wen Tianlu. “Not much.”
Wen Tianlu couldn’t hear Qian Lang, but from the situation, he could guess. Still wearing that beaming smile, he shrugged at Wen Jiang’s answer and mouthed silently: Are you talking shit about me?
“Not much” isn’t shit-talk, Wen Jiang thought, meeting Wen Tianlu’s gaze with perfect openness.
Good, not much is fine, Qian Lang thought, his heart easing a bit.
At the same time, Xie Qi bombarded him with ellipses.
Xie Qi: ……
Xie Qi: Why didn’t you ask earlier?
Xie Qi: Before that. We were already dating.
Alright, timeline confirmed—before the entrustment? So before he boarded the plane…
“Before that”???
It hit Qian Lang like a smack to the forehead, sparking an urge to stare in the mirror and hype himself up: You’re actually smart, you’ve got brains. He clutched his head as an unsettling guess bubbled up, leaving him speechless. Wen Jiang waited patiently through the silence before asking, “What’s up?”
“Ah, nothing much. I won these hot spring spa couple’s tickets—they’re time-limited, and I can’t make it back. How about you and Xie Qi go when you’re free?” Qian Lang tossed out casually, rubbing his brow before adding, “Or you and your partner, whatever. Xiao Jiang, you got a partner?”
“Nope.” Wen Jiang said it so naturally and decisively that if it was a lie, it had to be S-Grade acting. “I’ll think about it and get back to you.”
“Cool, I’ll send the details to your phone later. Go have fun—Wen Tianlu’s no good guy, remember that. Gotta remember.”
Qian Lang mechanically said his goodbyes, hung up, clutched his head, and stared at the floor in silence.
Before that… before that was when?
When did those two start dating behind my back?
He couldn’t recall any red flags, but before he left, there had been one odd thing.
Qian Lang subconsciously rubbed the red string on his wrist. He and Huo Xia Tong had parted amicably—hell, at this distance, it wasn’t even “long-distance” anymore. He didn’t know when he’d get out, so why drag it out? Smart people let go clean.
He could enjoy life before leaving, have a sweet romance—count his blessings. Xie Qi had it rougher: bland, tasteless days, heading to the Secret Tower early felt like a waste. But Qian Lang got it; Xie Qi lacked the “drive” to keep living outside.
Life dull, aimless, every second dragging long and restless. Qian Lang had been there once, lacking drive until he pulled himself out and became Yanhai’s top sunny rich kid.
Everyone talked timely pleasures, saying Wen Tianlu was the real hedonist. Qian Lang and Xie Qi leaned more “it’s all gonna end anyway, might as well quit.” The Secret Tower was the strictest; even frequent calls like this were tough. Back then, Qian Lang had wondered if dating was even worth it.
He’d seen plenty of boring romances and marriages around him—could do without. He didn’t have that dumb itch to lose his virginity by a certain age or sleep around. But real, heartfelt love? It’d end the moment they split—one glance at the finish line. Worse, if treatment failed, the groom might not even make wedding day, leaving the partner “widowed while alive” from day one.
Why torture each other?
But Huo Xia Tong had grabbed his hand that day, asking if he’d be her boyfriend. Qian Lang went “Ah,” his brain flooding with “pointless,” “super short-term,” “break up on schedule.” In the end, he just thought, Her hand’s so cold, and mumbled, “Sure.”
So what was Xie Qi thinking?
It was weird—his stubbornly bullheaded friend had flipped on going to the Secret Tower overnight. What changed in one evening? Just “cold feet at the last second,” like how people only crave life on death’s door?
“Bro, be straight with me,” Qian Lang picked up his phone and typed out to Xie Qi, letter by letter: “At my party that night, did you suddenly decide not to go because you started dating Xiao Jiang?”
Xie Qi didn’t reply for a long while.
Finally, Qian Lang’s phone buzzed once.
Xie Qi: What else?
