Nice guy card?
[L]: Baby, what do you mean by that?
Liang Zhixia frowned, then smoothed out his brows. How could L possibly not understand what he was saying?
He could only assume L was doing it on purpose.
[Zhizhi]: It means exactly what I said.
Lu Quan stared at those lines of text, his heart sinking deeper and deeper. His throat felt parched, and his voice came out slightly hoarse.
“Baby, didn’t you say you liked me?”
Liang Zhixia listened to the voice message on his phone, blinking in surprise before pursing his lips.
He cradled the phone and typed out his response.
[Zhizhi]: But that was all fake.
Fake?
Lu Quan’s mouth tightened into a straight line. His icy gaze fixed on those two words, and an aura of unapproachability radiated from him.
[L]: All those words were fake?
[Zhizhi]: Yeah, didn’t you get too into the role? We agreed from the start that it was just pretend.
Lu Quan recognized every single word, but put together, they made no sense to him.
The only thing he understood was that Zhizhi had been lying to him all along.
No wonder Zhizhi had never mentioned video calls or phone chats.
And that damned… boyfriend.
His long, bony fingers gripped the phone tightly, veins bulging on the back of his hand. Suddenly, he let go, and the phone slammed onto the desk with a bang. The screen cracked from top to bottom.
Lu Quan’s dark eyes stared at the irreparable fissure, his heartbeat gradually calming. All their past chat logs flooded his mind.
How could those words possibly be fake?
Impossible.
He refused to believe it.
Zhizhi clearly liked him.
They were mutually in love.
He picked up the phone, ignoring the sharp edges of the broken glass, his gaze softening.
“Baby, why don’t you sleep on it? We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
The man’s voice sounded like that of a traveler parched in the desert, rough and hoarse, yet his tone remained gentle, his face even breaking into an indulgent smile.
Liang Zhixia listened to the voice message, a chill creeping down his spine. L’s tone didn’t sound right at all.
After careful thought, he typed: “Are you okay?”
[L]: I’m fine. You go to sleep first, Baby. Good night.
Liang Zhixia didn’t know what else to say. L obviously cared about him and wanted him to be happy, but something was off about L’s state right now—it was downright scary.
He sent back a good night and set the phone aside.
A good night’s sleep, and everything would go back to normal.
L had just gotten too immersed in the act.
Maybe he didn’t like that nice guy card.
He should’ve said L was the best chat companion instead…
A wild flight of fancy flashed through his mind, but exhaustion won out, and he slowly closed his eyes.
Meanwhile.
Lu Quan stared at the good night message and let out a soft chuckle in the dimly lit study, shrouded by the thick night.
See? Zhizhi clearly liked him.
Why else would he send a good night?
Zhizhi was so obedient—he must be testing him on purpose.
His fingertip gently caressed the photo in the album. Then he lifted his finger, frowning displeased at the bloodstain on the screen.
It was dirty.
Zhizhi’s photo was dirtied.
He gently wiped the blood from the screen with a tissue.
Then he roughly cleaned the cut on his finger from the shards, but more thick blood oozed from the wound.
He held his pale finger under the faucet. Cold water tinged with blood trickled from his fingertip, pooling into a small puddle at the bottom of the sink.
Outside the door, Lu Manman hadn’t even been able to get in tonight. He sprawled on the carpet in front of the study door, peeking inside with his big eyes, but he couldn’t see a thing.
Last night, after he’d given those things to Mom, she’d seemed really happy and talked with Dad for a long time.
Looks like he wouldn’t get his big brother’s secret tonight.
He was just a little kid who wanted praise from Mom and Dad.
His chubby body had just stood up, panting a bit, when the study door suddenly swung open from inside.
“B-big bro—” The words hadn’t even left his mouth before they were cut off.
“I don’t want to hear you talk right now.”
Though Lu Manman was young, he was experienced. He quickly clamped his small hand over his mouth.
Lu Quan leaned down slightly to look at him, his dark gaze sweeping over the boy’s soft, white cheeks. The corner of his mouth curved faintly.
“Good boy.”
Then he turned and walked away without another expression.
Soon after, Lu Manman heard the front door on the first floor slam shut.
His legs gave out, and he plopped down onto the floor. Big teardrops rolled down his cheeks to his chin.
Three minutes later.
He wiped away his tears with his sleeve, eyes still red-rimmed, and toddled off on his short legs to find Mom.
Big brother was so scary tonight, boo-hoo.
After days of packed classes, Liang Zhixia felt utterly drained.
The air conditioner blasted cold air relentlessly.
He slumped in his chair, his gaze drifting to the empty bed across from him.
His roommate had been gone for days.
The bed and desk showed no signs of being touched. It seemed Lu Quan hadn’t come back at all during that time.
Propping his chin on his hand, Liang Zhixia lazily watched the sky outside.
He couldn’t help but think back to that day.
When he woke up the next morning, he’d thought L would snap out of it.
But things stayed the same—or even got worse.
Almost as soon as he came online, messages poured in from the other side.
Dense walls of text.
Details of everywhere he’d gone those days, everyone he’d been with, every bite he’d eaten and sip he’d taken—down to the minutest specifics.
It made his scalp tingle and his whole body uncomfortable.
He felt like he’d stirred up major trouble.
The kind he couldn’t shake off.
This had to count as a work-related injury, right?
He opened Taobao and saw the shop had restocked.
He rushed to customer service and reported L’s situation.
[This can’t be my fault, right?]
…
[I already changed the bad review to a good one.]
[Thanks for the little gift.]
After sending a long explanation of the whole mess, he anxiously awaited a reply.
Finally, during afternoon class, customer service responded.
[Dear, we don’t have anyone like that in our shop.]
[Dear, we didn’t send you any little gift either.]
[Dear, thank you for your recognition and support of our shop.]
[Dear, if you need, you can order our Gold Medal Chat Companion. He can handle any type—just xxx per month.]
He widened his eyes, trying to parse what they meant.
But what did they mean, no one like that in their shop?
He’d bought it from them originally.
He dug up his previous order and sent it over, sneaking glances past the teacher on stage as he typed.
[Here’s my previous order. I bought it from your shop—how could there be no such person?]
Had L quit?
Or was the shop owner dodging responsibility?
What the hell did this customer service mean?
The reply took a while this time.
[Dear, we really don’t have this person in our shop.]
[Dear, your order shows you did buy three months of chat companion service from us. I just checked with our staff—he said you didn’t add him, and later when he added you, you didn’t accept.]
[Dear, it looks like you added the wrong person.]
[Dear, as thanks for your good review, I’ll have our staff add you again and give you a free month.]
[Dear, thank you for your purchase. Wishing you a happy life and family bliss!]
The words all twisted together into sentences that made no sense to him.
His dazed gaze snagged on one line from customer service.
He’d added the wrong person…?
The bell rang, signaling the end of class.
He stayed seated in his chair as a friend request notification popped up on his phone screen.
[Dear, I’m the chat companion you bought from xx shop.]
He pursed his lips and approved it.
The other side was enthusiastic.
[Chat Companion No.1]: Dear! Finally found you!
[Chat Companion No.1]: The world is so big, yet in this vast sea of people, fate brought us together—not a moment too soon or too late.
[Chat Companion No.1]: Fate works in mysterious ways!
What was this chat companion babbling about?
Frowning, he typed.
[Zhizhi]: Are you the Gold Medal Chat Companion I booked before?
[Chat Companion No.1]: Yes, dear.
[Zhizhi]: Has this account been yours the whole time?
[Chat Companion No.1]: Yes, dear.
[Zhizhi]: What proof do you have?
The other side seemed to pause, not replying instantly.
[Chat Companion No.1]: Dear, here’s my track record and customer reviews from my career. This account has always been mine. I added you once half a month ago, but you rejected me.
Liang Zhixia scrolled to the friend request page. He didn’t have many friends, so he spotted Chat Companion No.1’s profile picture right away.
He really had gotten a request from them before.
Why had he rejected it back then?
Oh, right—he’d thought it was some shady service.
His eyes fell on their username. He’d mistyped one letter.
Liang Zhixia suddenly covered his face, heat rushing to his ears.
He’d added the wrong person—and then what had he done?
He’d sexually harassed L for a whole month!!!
He’d shamelessly begged L to like him every day.
L could take those cringeworthy chat logs straight to the cops.
Only now did it click why L had been acting so strangely.
L had genuinely thought he liked him.
From L’s perspective, last night’s words were him breaking up with L.
The classroom was empty now. Liang Zhixia bit his lip, deciding he should clear things up with L first.
His slender fingers typed out the message hesitantly.
【Zhizhi】: L, sorry, I think I added the wrong person QAQ
His thoughts snapped back to the present.
He wasn’t sure how to face L anymore.
L must think he was a total scumbag—no, a slut.
That day, the other guy had accepted the truth with eerie calm, but he hadn’t sent a single message since.
Meanwhile, in some remote little town.
A tall young man stood silently in front of a rundown house. The delivery guy pointed to the small shack on the right. “All the stuff you sent is in there.”
Lu Quan pushed open the unlocked door. A cloud of dust billowed out, settling unabashedly on his face and clothes. With one glance around the room, he spotted the doll and flowers he’d sent to Zhizhi sitting on the table in the middle.
The beautiful, expensive blooms hadn’t received proper care in time. Their petals had withered away.
Just like his mood right now.
He lowered his gaze, the delivery guy’s words still echoing in his ears.
“You’re looking for Liang Zhixia?”
