Chapter 65: Side Story

“520 side story. Timeline: after they got together.”

Ring ring ring ring ring—

The cheerful chime from the calendar reminder on Sun Jiayang’s phone burst insistently from his pocket, instantly filling the entire office with its merry jingle. The special doomsday alert tone he had so carefully selected echoed brazenly in the ears of his colleagues at the studio, causing everyone to stop in their tracks and shoot him glares of annoyance.

Sun Jiayang fumbled to pull out his phone and hit pause. He shrank back at his workstation under the barrage of withering stares, flashing a timid smile before nodding and bowing as he replied to messages from his demanding clients. “Sorry about that. Brother Fu’s schedule is really full on the 20th… It’s not about the money… Yeah, yeah, personal plans. Can’t disclose details…”

After turning down who knew how many brands trying to book in advance, Sun Jiayang finally let out a long breath. He sat up straight, opened his computer, and racked his brains to draft a rejection email.

Every mid-May, industries across the board kicked into high gear without fail. “520 limited edition,” “Beloved series,” “Heart-fluttering specials”—all sorts of gimmicks rolled out in waves, lest anyone miss the annual peak of love-fueled economics.

Nearly every top brand launched their new season of haute couture jewelry at this juncture, especially rings—limited numbers, custom engravings, celebrity endorsements. Layer upon layer of romantic hype wrapped around gleaming metals and gems, all designed to shear the leeks from young couples’ wallets.

This year’s buzz was no less intense than ever, with the biggest splash coming from Alderra’s collaboration with three A-list celebrities for their 520 limited series launch.

Alderra, the century-old Italian family jewelry dynasty, was renowned for its intricate designs weaving emeralds, yellow diamonds, and colored gems. To tap into the Chinese market this year, they unveiled a pair of emerald couple rings called Aquaria. Inspired by the legend of a bird and a fish falling in love—where sky met sea, two worlds that should never intersect chased each other for the sake of romance.

The rings’ design was exquisitely detailed: the band etched with overlapping fish scales, faint silhouettes of delicate wing feathers woven in to form a flowing tableau. Emeralds and yellow diamonds were set with masterful precision, evoking a bird poised to take flight amid rippling waves—a promise of love transcending time and boundaries.

The brand spared no expense on their guest list. Whether by popularity, looks, brand fit, or long-term partnerships, Film Emperor Fu Yanzong was Alderra’s top pick. And with his recent official announcement of his relationship, wasn’t he the perfect poster boy?

Even the Alderra team couldn’t fathom why Fu Yanzong would turn them down.

…Sun Jiayang couldn’t either.

From Ji Cheng’s perspective or his own, Alderra’s invitation brimmed with sincerity. It was a textbook case of high pay, low effort, and massive exposure—not to mention their solid history of collaboration. Excuses wouldn’t hold water; one wrong move, and they’d offend someone powerful.

So, the truth it was.

Sun Jiayang irritably hammered out on the keyboard: “The boss says he’s going on a date with his boyfriend on the 20th, so no work at all. If we bug him, we’re dead meat—”

Then he sheepishly mashed the backspace key to delete it all.

After agonizing over it, he decided a mere assistant like him couldn’t outright reject something this big. Steeling his nerves, he pulled a flanking maneuver and dialed Song Linyu’s number with trembling fingers.

…

It was a workday, so even Song Linyu couldn’t skip out entirely without good reason. But he always orchestrated his life with effortless poise, having long since relocated his office to home. Unless it demanded in-person handling, he rarely showed up at Dongyu Headquarters.

Right now, Song Linyu sat on the living room sofa, laptop balanced on his lap. The screen glowed with an ongoing video conference, where he appeared utterly composed and aloof before the camera. Even with a soft lumbar pillow at his back, his posture remained ramrod straight…

The reason he wasn’t working in the study was simple: Fu Yanzong was leaning against his shoulder, playing a game.

No one else appeared on camera, but the participants could all see Film Emperor Fu’s tousled hair spilling lazily over Song Linyu’s shoulder in the most casual fashion.

It was an excellent sign, meaning President Song would be exceptionally lenient and mild-mannered today—no icy takedowns to leave anyone squirming.

The impromptu meeting wrapped up quickly, in about thirty minutes. With a snap, Song Linyu closed his laptop and turned to nestle silently into Fu Yanzong’s embrace.

Over the years, Song Linyu’s craving for Fu Yanzong’s arms had spiked even higher. But it wasn’t the clingy, constant-demand type. He would carefully gauge Fu Yanzong’s mood first, then sidle up with the smallest fuss.

They had wandered through countless cities, soaking in the shifting seasons. Fu Yanzong’s habit was to slowly patrol his new territory before claiming his favorite spot to lounge. Song Linyu’s was far simpler—his territory had always been Fu Yanzong’s embrace.

No matter how stealthily he approached, though, he always caught Fu Yanzong’s notice. Every hug between them was thus a quiet, mutual consent.

Sometimes, though, other things happened. Like now: Fu Yanzong turned the peaceful cuddle into a mischievous tease. The instant Song Linyu leaned in, he clenched his hand and firmly pressed down on the lingering fingerprints still marking the man’s waist.

Song Linyu arched his back with a soft hiss of breath, hooking his arms around Fu Yanzong’s neck and murmuring thickly, “Bro.”

Fu Yanzong chuckled and pressed harder.

As the two horsed around, Song Linyu’s phone rang. He finally wriggled free from the wicked cat’s clutches to answer, only to hear Sun Jiayang ask tentatively, “Um, President Song, do you think Brother Fu has time on the 20th?”

Song Linyu’s tone turned cool and decisive in an instant. “No.”

“…”

Sun Jiayang’s budding plan collapsed midway. He glanced pitifully at the still-connected call and hurriedly spilled the whole backstory to Song Linyu, subtly probing: Could they really not spare three hours for Fu Yanzong to make a quick appearance?

If you asked Song Linyu, his heart screamed no, no, a thousand times no. But he would never meddle in Fu Yanzong’s work. The moment he picked up Sun Jiayang’s call, he’d switched on speakerphone. Apart from that one slightly biased “no,” he hadn’t opined further.

Fu Yanzong on the sofa, surprisingly, didn’t brush it off like he might have days ago. Instead, he seemed mildly interested and opened Song Linyu’s closed laptop. He skimmed the email Sun Jiayang had forwarded, pondered for a moment, then looked up. “Sure.”

Sun Jiayang whooped with joy, lavishing praise on Fu Yanzong before sincerely thanking Song Linyu. He hung up in high spirits to craft his reply.

Song Linyu silently powered off his phone.

As he leaned back against Fu Yanzong, he said nothing, his mind already recalibrating the evening plans he’d prepared for the 20th to daytime instead. In his daze, a chill from an iced fruit drink splashed across his cheek, leaving it damp.

The frigid fizz snapped him out of it. He blinked up at Fu Yanzong in bewilderment, who was leisurely pulling away the can. With a flick, Fu Yanzong hooked his finger into the tab and popped it open, lowering his gaze to ask languidly, “Are you mad?”

Song Linyu hesitated, about to say it wasn’t a big deal—if it was work, of course he wouldn’t stand in the way.

It wasn’t empty words. Song Linyu wasn’t so unreasonable as that.

He loved watching Fu Yanzong shine in his passion more than anyone.

But Fu Yanzong had told him many times: he could be selfish, throw a tantrum, voice even the tiniest whim.

So Song Linyu stared at him a beat, then looked away awkwardly. In a small voice laced with a hint of grievance, he murmured, “A little.”

“I thought it’d be like before. Together the whole time.”

Song Linyu unconsciously stressed “whole time,” pursing his lips solemnly. But right after, he wrapped his arms around Fu Yanzong’s waist, rested quietly for a moment, then lifted his head—having coaxed himself out of it.

“Fine,” he said, arbitrarily dictating the compensation. “Give me this peach soda, and I’ll forgive you, brother.”

Fu Yanzong couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

…Song Linyu was just too adorably obedient.

Fu Yanzong leaned down, pressing a kiss to Song Linyu’s pale eyes, and negotiated tenderly, “How about a different kind of compensation?”

His face was so close that Song Linyu predictably fell under the spell, mumbling a vague assent.

The next instant, Fu Yanzong captured his lips.

Bubbles of peachy sweetness burst lightly on their tongues, silken strands and slickness entwining in a sticky, honeyed dance. The soda was every bit as cloying and sweet as promised—Song Linyu tasted half in the kiss, while the other half spilled languidly over the fabric pooling at their feet, drenching them both.

…

In short, on the night of May 20th, Radiant River was still ablaze with lights, celebrities gathering amidst glittering reflections and fleeting shadows. Alderra’s launch event was laid out in extravagant splendor, like a banquet tailored for the elite. Yet no amount of elaborate staging could hide its true nature: the jewelry adorning the guests was all up for sale, seeking the highest bidder amid the clinking glasses.

As for the Aquaria Emerald Matching Ring on Fu Yanzong’s finger, it was undoubtedly the most dazzling item of the evening. If everyone else in this field of fame and fortune was merely striking more sophisticated poses to mask their sales pitch, then Fu Yanzong needed only to stand there to drive the bids sky-high.

Of course, beyond the reasons Sun Jiayang had mentioned, he had a simple one for attending this launch.

The Aquaria brand had crafted only two pairs of these emerald rings. One would hit the auction block tonight, while the other came without a price tag or public sale—it was a private gift for Fu Yanzong alone, in exchange for his presence.

The event had no formal auction segment; guests simply quoted prices to the attendants nearby, who tracked every bid.

In theory, the jewelry wouldn’t be claimed until the launch ended. But in practice, someone always splashed out a fortune on their favorite star, paying far more than necessary.

…Like right now.

Ye Hubai learned from a nearby attendant that the matching ring on Fu Yanzong’s finger had already fetched a sky-high price, and the bidding was still going strong. Standing outside the crowd with a wine glass in hand, Ye Hubai let out a sigh, scratched his head, and said helplessly, “But my mom is a huge Fu Yanzong fan. She’ll chew me out if I don’t bring it home. Add another two million for me.”

The attendant agreed, tapped his earpiece to relay the new bid, and Ye Hubai turned away in melancholy, looking for someone to share his woes with. That’s when he spotted a young man standing nearby, completely out of place at the gala.

The guy wasn’t dressed in formal wear at all. He was neat from head to toe, looking more like a college student in a simple black hoodie, quietly waiting at the edge of the room for someone. Ye Hubai figured he was probably some celebrity’s assistant or little brother and sidled over with easy familiarity to strike up a conversation.

The young man didn’t seem eager to chat, but Ye Hubai opened with, “I had no idea Fu Yanzong was this popular back home.” That seemed to catch his interest.

A moment later, the young man nodded slightly and said to Ye Hubai, “Of course. Fu Yanzong is exceptional.”

“Isn’t he just? I got sent away for five years of ‘exile’ studying abroad, and the moment I come back, my mom ships me off to chase stars… Wouldn’t it be even better if she spent this money on me? Honestly, I’d say I’m about an even match for Fu Yanzong…”

Ye Hubai rambled on, unsure if the guy was even listening. But it felt good to vent, so after downing another sip of wine to wet his throat, he asked the attendant, “How high’s the bid on the ring now?”

The attendant smiled at him and politely gestured with his forearm toward the young man, who looked a bit bored from waiting. “President Song has lit the sky lantern,” he said mildly. “Are you sure you want to raise it?”

Ye Hubai blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

Song Linyu glanced at him, tutted softly, and furrowed his brow just a touch.

Then he lowered his head to tap out a message on his phone, sending an adorable puppy-rub emoji and eagerly asking if his brother was done with work yet.

Logically, once the ring sold, Fu Yanzong’s job here was finished. But with so many people competing against Song Linyu inside the venue, they wouldn’t back down until pushed to the limit. It was getting annoying.

With that in mind, he looked back up at Ye Hubai and said bluntly, “Give up. I don’t have the patience, and you can’t outbid me anyway.”

Ye Hubai hadn’t yet connected the dots between this guy and the Song Linyu his parents had warned him about—the one tied to Dongyu. He replied on instinct, “Oh… okay, sure.”

Song Linyu nodded in satisfaction and walked off, leaving Ye Hubai standing there in disarray.

…

By the time Song Linyu claimed the ring and hurried to Radiant River Rear Island, Fu Yanzong had been waiting for quite a while.

Many media outlets raved about the nighttime view from this man-made islet, worth millions alone. From the open-air platform, Clear Lake Bay’s endless lights stretched to the horizon, the entire island submerged in a dream of golden splendor. Tonight, it lay obediently at Fu Yanzong’s side.

He leaned against the Koenigsegg that had pulled up quietly, his suit jacket casually draped over the hood. Wearing only a light-colored shirt, he idly toyed with the ring box in his hand.

Song Linyu’s steps slowed involuntarily.

Fu Yanzong looked up, sighing helplessly in the night breeze. “President Song,” he said softly with a complaint, “I knew it had to be you throwing money around like a spendthrift. Oh well, I was prepared to buy both pairs myself anyway. That way, they’d truly be one of a kind.”

Song Linyu’s heart pounded wildly, thumping out of control, nearly leaping from his chest.

Fu Yanzong had prepared a ring for him once before, but that one had come too early. It held a past that was both feather-light and unbearably heavy, sealed in ashes for years by the time Song Linyu received it. Just seeing it had brought tears he couldn’t hold back.

So tonight, Fu Yanzong had given him a second one.

—Birds and fish can never meet, yet through eternal pursuit, they finally reunite.

A sudden gust swept through, and the distant lights of Clear Lake Bay flickered dim for an instant, as if the whole city held its breath.

The ring box pressed against Song Linyu’s palm was gently clasped. Then, the cool band of the ring slid slowly onto his finger.

In the hush of the night, they kissed, affirming the ancient vows that should accompany an exchange of rings.