Chapter 79: The Task List

And so, at that very moment, a new question arose—

What do couples usually do?

After being held tightly by Xie Qi and basking in that magical pink bubble vibe for a while, Wen Jiang pondered the issue.

As everyone knew, when a person entered a brand-new learning phase, they could seek out a good teacher and humbly ask for guidance, or they could dive into study materials and learn from books.

Thus, as a total newbie, Wen Jiang thought for a moment, then simply pulled out his phone from his pocket. He flipped through the romance works that the presidents of the Literature Club and Manga Research Club had enthusiastically recommended to him—it would also help pass the time.

He glanced over Xie Qi’s shoulder for a bit and figured the other had mostly sorted out his emotions. He patted Xie Qi’s back and said, “Let’s separate first.”

Xie Qi rasped a hoarse agreement and slowly loosened his hold on Wen Jiang. Before fully pulling away, he locked eyes with Wen Jiang, couldn’t hold back, and leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Wen Jiang blinked, not refusing Xie Qi.

A few days ago, he wouldn’t have even dared dream of this… Xie Qi let out a deep sigh. That dragonfly-on-water touch proved one thing: no matter how mysterious and aloof the high-mountain flower or ice-cold male god appeared to outsiders, cheeks were soft to the touch.

…Lips must be soft too.

To be precise, Xie Qi was still in the “trial period” right now. That fact helped him suppress the urge to immediately indulge in further tasting. Meanwhile, Wen Jiang focused on flipping through the hottest girls’ manga of the moment beside him, finally landing on the task list the protagonists had made right after getting together: Doki Doki! 10 Things to Do with XX-kun After Dating.

He shared it with Xie Qi to see. In this manga—billed as a “refreshingly sweet summer hit”—one of the diligently depicted dating events on the list was: Tell friends and family, spread the happiness in your heart.

Wen Jiang & Xie Qi: ……

A moment later, Wen Jiang dialed Qian Lang on video call.

Qian Lang picked up casually, mid-sip of water. When he caught sight of both Wen Jiang and Xie Qi on screen, he spat it right out. After coughing a few times and just about to speak, Wen Jiang cut in flatly: “We’re dating now.” That triggered an even more violent coughing fit from Qian Lang, along with a cold scoff from Xie Qi at his disheveled state.

Qian Lang wiped his mouth. In his blank-minded panic, he instinctively pulled out his phone and shakily messaged Huo Xia Tong to notify her. It was pure reflex.

The “Xiao Jiang boyfriend vetting plan” he’d once imagined hadn’t even started before it curtained closed. His heart churned with mixed emotions. Looking up at Xie Qi lounging there like some arrogant lord—his once-planned key ally in the vetting process had become the first traitor—left him utterly choked up.

But Qian Lang thought it over and realized: Wait, no—he had nothing to fear! The winds had shifted! Who could call him the instigator of trouble now? He was the primary hero who’d made his bro’s love chase succeed!

Plus, who had made the introduction? Who had helped Xie Qi meet Wen Jiang? He’d just stepped out of the country for a bit, and in that one moment of temporary caregiving, it turned into a lifetime deal? Had they gotten his approval? No share for him in the talking? With both credit and hardship on his side, Qian Lang grew bolder by the second. For once, he argued back at Xie Qi: “Shouldn’t your first words be thanks to me?”

Wen Jiang watched wordlessly as Qian Lang ran through a whirlwind of expressions in mere seconds. The emotional rollercoaster was quite the spectacle, though he didn’t sense any “happiness” rubbing off on the guy.

He did get a congratulatory “single no more” text from Huo Xia Tong: bunny confetti.jpg

Wen Jiang: little dinosaur confetti.jpg

Wen Jiang then messaged Lin Wenzhi: Xie Qi and I are dating.

Lin Wenzhi didn’t seem thrilled—more horrified. She replied shakily: I’m out

Her best buddy suddenly off the market, Lin Wenzhi’s mind spun with questions, unsure which to hit first. For some reason, her career drive kicked in, and she sent Wen Jiang: So, in future doujins, can I still pair your character with someone?

Wen Jiang: “…….”

There weren’t even any intimate scenes with anyone in the past ones. I didn’t even get to play “body double”… He thought it over and realized she meant even roles like “the married king” or “the minister with a daughter” wouldn’t be options for him anymore. With top-notch professionalism, he replied: Same as before.

He couldn’t become an actor pigeonholed into “single guy” roles!

After replying, Wen Jiang tapped back into someone else’s couple task list. The second item: Use couple nicknames for each other. He turned to Xie Qi, who was bickering with Qian Lang: “Want nicknames?”

Xie Qi paused, coughed with reddening ears: “Whatever.”

…I’m still here! Qian Lang stared numbly.

Wen Jiang turned to Qian Lang next. From that cool gaze, Qian Lang fully felt his earnest student vibe toward a romance senior. Pleased, he straightened up, cleared his throat, and said: “Tongtong and I just call each other casually.”

No hubby-wifey or baby-sweetie stuff—as long as it rolled off the tongue and the mood struck, anything went. No need for fixed nicknames or perfectly matching the status quo—like calling hubby-wifey before marriage. “But you’re both guys,” Qian Lang’s straight-guy logic suddenly hit, blurting: “So you two call each other hubby?”

…Total nonsense. Xie Qi frowned, eyeing Qian Lang like an idiot: “Can’t you think before you speak?”

“What’s wrong with the idea? It fits the gender perfectly!” Qian Lang defended himself, then backpedaled: “Fine, looser terms—one of you ‘switches’ isn’t out of the question. I’m tolerant.”

As he griped, he pictured his two friends sweetly hubby-wifey-ing in front of him. Xie Qi’s affectionate gaze, mouth just opening—Qian Lang yelped “Eek!” and squeezed his eyes shut: “Forget it, begging you—if you’re calling that, not in front of me.”

The shock… Didn’t realize I’m such a conservative at heart. Can’t stomach it.

As if I’d love saying it. Xie Qi rolled his eyes, paused before speaking to check Wen Jiang’s reaction first. Wen Jiang’s face stayed perfectly neutral, no waves, clearly not thrilled either. Xie Qi turned back, declaring righteously: “Bad idea.”

“…Why? It’s a common-sense suggestion.” Why not consider his own poor fit? Qian Lang grumbled: “Pick another then. Try some out, go with what you like best.”

Wen Jiang’s knowledge base went ding. The top-student perk shone: anything read left an impression. He scrolled his phone and pulled up a Nickname Reference Guide—excerpted from Science Geniuses’ Love Brain War.

What books has Xiao Jiang been reading these days? Qian Lang couldn’t help inwardly griping.

Cute. Xie Qi took the phone, paused at the list, ears heating. He touched his neck expressionlessly, then cooperated by reading the first: “…Baby.”

“Ew.” Qian Lang shuddered on screen.

Wen Jiang replied calmly: “Mm.”

Xie Qi coughed, continued: “Sweetie.”

“Oof.” Qian Lang looked away.

Wen Jiang coolly: “Oh.”

Xie Qi’s brow furrowed slightly: “Baby boy.”

“Urgh.” Qian Lang leaned back instinctively.

Isn’t this repeating the first? Wen Jiang generously: “Good.”

Xie Qi’s voice chilled: “Little darling.”

“Whoa, stop Master, that’s so greasy…” Qian Lang didn’t finish—the screen went black. Xie Qi hung up.

Wen Jiang stayed noncommittal: “Fine.”

Xie Qi glanced at him, helpless: “Are you doing a no-repeat-response challenge?”

Wen Jiang nodded: “Yeah.”

But seriously, he added: “Any are fine.”

Wen Jiang had no strong preferences for nicknames. Truly, from roles he’d played before, he’d been called “darling” plenty—not to mention “big bro” or “father” by seniors. If he did cross-dressing roles someday, even more. By his professional standards, no nickname fazed him.

Xie Qi had none either. They sat in brief silence. Xie Qi said: “Table it for now?”

Wen Jiang nodded, fully grasping that theory needed practice—you couldn’t copy others’ paths. Still, he checked the next list item: Use couple-exclusive paired items.

Xie Qi’s gaze drifted away leisurely, hesitating: “…Bathroom stuff matches.”

He added: “Your room’s cups match too.”

Of course, for various obvious reasons, no one had noticed his little scheme.

On the bright side, discovering it now meant at least they registered as couple cups. If earlier, Wen Jiang might’ve just thought he’d grabbed a matching pair casually, or marveled that Xie Qi even bought “bro cups.”

So, does this count as done? Wen Jiang’s face stayed blank, zero involvement or sense of accomplishment as he looked at him.

Romance is so profound…

…Cute. Xie Qi leaned in, gently pinching his cheek. This “he’d accept anything” feeling was so fresh. Savoring it, he thought of a missing couple item and suggested: “We could custom-order Suppressors.”

“You could design the style you want, then I use it.” At the second half, his ears heated again. Xie Qi said seriously: “But mine got dismantled before. The new one’s model will change—won’t perfectly match yours now.”

Ability Suppressors had evolved with tons of varieties: wristbands, anklets, earrings, brooches—shifting from basic utility to convenience, aesthetics, multifunction. But Xie Qi was now a riot-incident key subject; his new custom one would revert to basics, utility only.

Wen Jiang’s pure-black wristband was sleek and streamlined. His new Suppressor’s color could match in black or white, but it’d look bulkier, maybe a full size larger. As wristbands, they’d seem less “couple rings,” more “family-sized”—like adult-and-kid sets.

Wen Jiang eyed Xie Qi’s wrist thoughtfully, then asked: “Anywhere’s fine?”

Xie Qi started to answer but froze mid-gaze into those abyss-black eyes. For some reason, he felt that familiar, long-missed sensation of being locked on.

Wen Jiang himself was oblivious as always—likely just following logic to its conclusion. Xie Qi’s throat bobbed: “Anywhere.”

Wen Jiang’s gaze slid past his face, down to his neck.