Gu Yuan’s nape broke out in fine beads of sweat. Only when Zhou Chiyu gazed at him did he snap out of his daze and lower his eyes.
So, he really was Zhou Chiyu’s ideal type?
Or had he influenced Zhou Chiyu’s definition of an ideal type?
Yet despite that, Zhou Chiyu still didn’t love him.
That was fine, though. After all, this was just a “type,” and countless people fell under that category. Finding the one true partner in life didn’t rely solely on whether a “type” matched one’s preferences; it also depended on “feeling.”
He had always thought that “feeling” was a truly wondrous thing.
“Little Sweetheart didn’t lie.”
Archer found it odd. “Since Gu Yuan is your ideal type, why didn’t you accept his pursuit?”
Zhou Chiyu froze. Gu Yuan should have been many people’s ideal type, right?
“My Brother is not only gentle and considerate, great at taking care of people, and excelling in his studies—he’s got top-tier looks too. Who wouldn’t like him?”
Archer raised an eyebrow slightly. “Your Brother?”
Zhou Chiyu had just used “big brother” to describe Gu Yuan, which in casual English translated to blood brother.
Before Zhou Chiyu could react, the others exclaimed in surprise: “You two are into incest?”
“It’s complicated,” Gu Yuan explained. “We have no blood relation. Little Fish was fostered in my family from a young age.”
This time, everyone seemed to understand their somewhat intricate relationship.
Archer knew Gu Yuan came from a wealthy family, and in an instant, he imagined a slew of dramatic gossip plots. “Are you two being blocked by your elders and carrying on a secret affair?”
Zhou Chiyu laughed wryly. “No.”
He glanced at Gu Yuan’s stern expression, and his smile gradually froze.
Archer seemed to have a point.
If they really got together, would Grandpa agree?
“So what are you hung up on?” Archer asked, full of curiosity. “Or is it that I just don’t get your subtlety?”
Personal matters of the heart weren’t something Zhou Chiyu wanted to share too much with outsiders. He shook his head, indicating he didn’t want to answer.
Archer glanced at Gu Yuan and wisely didn’t press further.
At midnight, Gu Yuan and Zhou Chiyu left the hotel and strolled down the street, facing each other in silence.
Two hours earlier, he had received an email—an invitation from his professor to return to MIT for a competition.
“Little Fish, I have a competition coming up soon.”
Gu Yuan turned his head to look at him. “I might need to stay in the USA for a while.”
“Huh?” Zhou Chiyu frowned. “Can you make it back before my coming-of-age ceremony?”
“Should be able to.”
The wind outside was a bit chilly, and Zhou Chiyu had just eaten too much. Gu Yuan wanted to help him walk off the food, so he draped his jacket over the other. “I’ll see you off back home the day after tomorrow.”
“Alright.” Zhou Chiyu drooped his head dejectedly. “But you have to come back on time. I can’t have my birthday without you.”
Gu Yuan stared at him, and a soft chuckle escaped. “Really can’t have it without me? What if one day you meet someone you like—would you still invite me to your birthday then?”
Zhou Chiyu slowly came to a stop, his shoulders trembling faintly.
The hair falling over his forehead hid his eyes, so Gu Yuan couldn’t see his expression clearly, but he gently took hold of his hand. “What are you upset about? By then, the one who’d be most upset should be me.”
Zhou Chiyu suddenly wiped his eyes, his voice choked when he spoke. “You always say stuff like that. I don’t like hearing it.”
“Alright.” Gu Yuan smiled helplessly. “I won’t say it anymore.”
Zhou Chiyu hummed in satisfaction and hooked his pinky finger around Gu Yuan’s. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“Hm?” Gu Yuan leaned in close, the wind muffling his words; he didn’t quite catch them.
The faint scent of sandalwood enveloped Zhou Chiyu, his face flushing as he murmured extremely softly, “Only you.”
Gu Yuan only caught the word “you” and smiled thoughtfully.
Zhou Chiyu sneaked a glance at him and saw no special reaction, knowing the other still hadn’t heard clearly.
But that was okay. There was plenty of time ahead.
He secretly curved his lips and brushed them against Gu Yuan’s shoulder.
…
Two days later, Zhou Chiyu boarded the plane back home, accompanied this time by the Gu Cheng couple.
Bai Wenran suffered severe morning sickness on the flight and vomited up everything she’d eaten, leaning weakly against Gu Cheng without the strength to speak.
Fortunately, they flew on the Gu Family’s private jet, complete with accompanying medical staff who could help ease Bai Wenran’s discomfort.
Zhou Chiyu obediently held a cup of water, his eyes full of heartache.
Being a woman and going through pregnancy and childbirth was truly so hard.
“Uncle, how many more months until Auntie Bai has the baby?” Zhou Chiyu eagerly anticipated this little one’s arrival and had already thought of a welcome gift for his little brother.
Gu Cheng smiled gently. “Eight weeks left.”
“The little brother will surely be as handsome as Brother.” Zhou Chiyu’s mouth was sweet. “With Uncle Gu and Auntie Bai’s perfect genes, you should have a few more little babies. Then I’d have lots of little brothers and sisters.”
Bai Wenran laughed at his words. “Looks like Little Fish really wants to be a big brother.”
Zhou Chiyu nodded. “Yeah, my dream is to have a little brother or sister.”
At that, his eyes gradually dimmed.
He remembered his mother saying when he was very young that she only wanted him as her baby in this lifetime—no one else was allowed to take away his love.
But sometimes he wondered: if his mother had given him a little brother or sister back then, would he have had one more family member?
“Little Fish.” Bai Wenran noticed his melancholy and gently lifted her hand to stroke his cheek. “In the future, not only will you have a little brother, but you’ll get to be a little uncle too.”
Gu Cheng’s smile faded noticeably as he interrupted Bai Wenran. “I’ve got the coconut flesh you wanted all prepped.”
“Thanks, Husband.” Bai Wenran continued, “Little Fish will have lots of family in the future.”
Zhou Chiyu eyed the coconut flesh too, feeling a bit tempted. “Auntie, why would I be a little uncle?”
Bai Wenran smiled. “Won’t Little Yuan’s kids call you Uncle?”
An unexpected pang of heartache struck Zhou Chiyu without warning. He stared blankly at Bai Wenran, those words echoing in his ears.
“Little Fish?” Bai Wenran gently rubbed her belly, her lips curving curiously. “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m not thinking anything.” Zhou Chiyu’s chest felt as if it’d been smashed by a heavy weight, leaving him short of breath. “I just feel like I’m still too young for the uncle role.”
“Not now, of course.” Bai Wenran had someone bring another bowl of milk-infused coconut flesh and handed it gently to Zhou Chiyu. “After you both graduate, get married, and bring your kids home someday—it’ll be so lively.”
“Oh.” Zhou Chiyu shoveled in a big bite of coconut flesh and forced a smile. “It’s delicious.”
Bai Wenran’s eyes crinkled. “Eat slowly, don’t choke.”
A wave of sourness swirled in his chest. He frantically scooped up more coconut flesh, feeling as if his heart were a chain split into quarters, ready to shatter at the slightest breeze.
He didn’t know what was wrong with him or why he reacted so strongly to this.
But he knew he felt particularly awful.
“Thanks, Auntie.”
To avoid giving himself away, Zhou Chiyu deliberately turned his back to them and chewed vigorously with puffed cheeks.
He just couldn’t picture Gu Yuan getting married and having kids someday. The mere thought of Gu Yuan leaving him made his heart ache like it was pricked by needles.
Silent tears fell into the bowl. He abruptly stood and trotted to the bathroom. Staring at his reddened eyes in the mirror, he covered his mouth, desperately wanting to call Gu Yuan.
“You rest for a bit first.”
Gu Cheng soothed Bai Wenran and headed toward the bathroom.
He stood outside the door and knocked lightly. “Little Fish.”
Zhou Chiyu frantically wiped away his tears. Even with his restrained tone, the choke in his throat was unmistakable. “Uncle, I’m in here.”
“I know.” Gu Cheng’s brow furrowed in thought. “Are you feeling unwell? Want to come out for some air?”
“I’m not unwell.” Zhou Chiyu smoothed his messy hair, plastered on a cheerful smile, and opened the door. “Uncle, come in.”
Gu Cheng stared at the tear tracks on Zhou Chiyu’s face, his voice laced with concern. “Little Fish, do you have something on your mind?”
Zhou Chiyu’s throat went dry. After a long pause, he said, “No.”
“If there’s anything, don’t keep it bottled up.” Gu Cheng patted his shoulder gently. “If you don’t want to tell me, talk to Little Yuan about it.”
“Mm.” A faint tremor lingered in Zhou Chiyu’s voice. “Uncle, what kind of person do you hope Brother marries in the future? After hearing Auntie say that, I just can’t picture it.”
Gu Cheng smiled at him and, supporting his shoulder, leaned down to say, “Why should it be up to what I hope? It’s his choice who he marries—as long as he’s happy.”
