YMW CH 25
by LinnaceIt’s also a kiss
Xie Guilan remained silent for a few minutes. The dim lighting in the room cast his deep, dark eyes into shadow, and his cold voice finally broke the stillness. “Sorry, but the manager has a rule—no drinking.”
“A rule?” Wang Yue scoffed coldly.
He wasn’t planning to back down. While his tone was polite and almost conciliatory, the insincerity behind it only made it more unpleasant. Squinting slightly, he added, “The mess last time was my fault. I didn’t know when to stop, and you already taught me a lesson. Truly, I realize my mistake now. Tonight, I just wanted to take this chance to apologize. So, how about giving me some face and playing one round?”
Xie Guilan’s deep-set eyes and sharply defined brows gave him an intimidating air, especially when he tilted his head down to look at someone. It was the kind of gaze that could make anyone believe he was capable of anything—even murder.
A chill ran down Wang Yue’s back. He instinctively leaned into the couch for support, but when he realized what he was doing, rage flared in his chest. What the hell? Why was he afraid of this guy?
The room had gone dead silent. Everyone held their breath, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. But inside, they were quietly enjoying the drama.
“Passing cards” was a disgusting game. You had to hold a card to your lips and pass it mouth-to-mouth to the next person. Everyone knew how much Cen Wu despised Xie Guilan. If the two of them had to play this game together, Cen Wu would probably gag for half an hour after.
That was exactly what Wang Yue was counting on.
Cen Wu wasn’t very old and didn’t have much experience, while Wang Yue had been frequenting places like Blue Night for years. He even knew how to rig the spinning wheel to land wherever he wanted—this time, intentionally stopping it on “pass the card.”
Cen Wu was the pampered young master of the Cen family, so precious he was practically wrapped in silk. He was also extremely prideful. If Xie Guilan refused, Cen Wu would no doubt lash out. On the other hand, if Xie Guilan actually went along with it, Cen Wu’s temper would definitely flare, and he’d take it all out on Xie Guilan.
For Wang Yue, it was a win-win.
Even if Cen Wu refused to play, the rules of the game dictated a penalty: ten shots of whiskey. At 53% alcohol, the whiskey was no joke, and the glasses were deep. If Xie Guilan had to drink all ten, there was no way he’d leave Blue Night standing.
Wang Yue’s plan was foolproof.
Cen Wu frowned, seeing through Wang Yue’s not-so-subtle scheme. It wasn’t a particularly clever trick, and he’d seen worse in the entertainment industry. Still, he wasn’t interested in playing along. He considered just dumping the whiskey over Wang Yue’s head and walking out with Xie Guilan.
But then, Xie Guilan moved.
Dressed in a waiter’s uniform—a crisp white shirt and black slacks—Xie Guilan wore a pair of black leather gloves that matched his sharp, lean figure. His tall frame was striking, somewhere between a boy’s lanky build and a man’s solid physique.
With cold, pale skin and jet-black eyes that seemed to shimmer like liquid, his face was both detached and arrestingly handsome. His thin lips, a stark crimson against his pale complexion, only added to the intensity of his appearance.
Under the room’s dim blue lighting, Xie Guilan’s face betrayed no emotion. His deep eyes were unreadable as he calmly opened a fresh deck of cards. Then, without a word, he walked toward Cen Wu.
The sharp click of his leather shoes echoed in the room, each step building an inexplicable tension. When he stopped, his tall figure loomed over Cen Wu, casting a shadow over him.
Xie Guilan picked up a card, pressed it to his lips, and leaned in. One hand rested on the back of the couch behind Cen Wu, bringing his face unbearably close.
Cen Wu froze. His heart raced, and he instinctively shrank back into the sofa, his ears beginning to flush a bright red.
Xie Guilan paused, his brows knitting slightly when he realized Cen Wu wasn’t moving. With a gloved hand, he gently gripped Cen Wu’s delicate jaw, tilting his head up. Then, he pressed the card—and his lips—against Cen Wu’s.
A buzzing filled Cen Wu’s head. The thin card was barely a barrier; he could feel the softness of Xie Guilan’s lips and the warm, humid breath that passed between them.
Cen Wu’s eyelashes fluttered. His eyes, already misty, quickly brimmed with moisture. His pale cheeks turned a brilliant crimson, and the tips of his ears looked ready to burst into flames.
The small red mole on the back of his ear was even more vivid against the heat. It wasn’t visible from the front, but now, it seemed even redder.
Xie Guilan’s dark eyes lingered on the mole for a moment before finally moving away.
He didn’t even move his lips—downright gentlemanly—just held the card against them, waiting for Cen Wu to take it.
Cen Wu’s lips trembled slightly. For someone so cold and distant, Xie Guilan’s breath felt uncomfortably warm. His sharp nose was so close that it almost brushed Cen Wu’s cheek. Instinctively, Cen Wu wanted to pull away, but Xie Guilan’s gloved hand tightened around his delicate, snow-white chin, keeping him in place.
Standing nearly 190 centimeters tall, Xie Guilan towered over him. That overwhelming height and strength carried an undeniable air of control.
Cen Wu felt his entire body weaken, unable to muster any resistance. Sinking deeper into the dark green leather sofa, his fair skin appeared almost luminescent against the deep shade. But now, his face burned so hot he couldn’t lift his head. His body slid downward, almost instinctively seeking an escape, and he ended up clutching at Xie Guilan’s shirt in desperation. His trembling fingers wrinkled the once-pristine fabric, clinging to it as if it were a lifeline, leaving Xie Guilan’s sleeve crumpled in his grip.
Ji Changyu’s jaw practically hit the floor, while everyone else in the room wished they could disappear. The tension was suffocating.
Xie Guilan already had the silhouette of a grown man—broad shoulders and a commanding presence that practically swallowed Cen Wu whole. From behind, the angle completely obscured the card. To anyone watching, it looked exactly like a kiss.
Xie Guilan’s grip tightened slightly, leaving faint red marks on Cen Wu’s pale, delicate cheeks.
A soft, shaky gasp escaped Cen Wu as the realization of their closeness turned his face an even deeper shade of red. He trembled, trying to take the card with his lips, but the more he panicked, the harder it became. His vision blurred, filled with the warmth of tears, as he clung helplessly to Xie Guilan’s shoulder. His tilted head and the way he leaned forward—it was a clear, vulnerable gesture, almost like asking for a kiss.
Embarrassment washed over him, making him want to push Xie Guilan away. But the thought of Xie Guilan being mocked and humiliated by these people stopped him. It twisted something deep inside, making him feel even worse.
What did it matter anyway? It wasn’t like they were actually kissing. There was a card between them. It wasn’t a big deal.
But it still felt like the end of the world.
Even Wang Yue shivered.
If Xie Shangjing found out, they were all dead.
Wang Yue never imagined Xie Guilan would actually dare to get this close to Cen Wu, let alone that Cen Wu wouldn’t reject him.
Everyone assumed Cen Wu belonged to Xie Shangjing. Whether that assumption was true or not didn’t matter; it was treated as fact. And this? This was as good as throwing Xie Shangjing under the bus. At least, that’s how he’d see it.
Ah Ling, who had also been dragged along tonight, had been the calmest person in the room. Having spent a lot of time with Cen Wu recently, he wasn’t afraid of him anymore—Cen Wu wasn’t someone who lashed out indiscriminately, especially not at people who worked for him.
Still, even Ah Ling hadn’t expected Xie Guilan to actually go for it. The sheer audacity sent a chill through him. Xie Guilan’s cold demeanor, his complete indifference, it had a magnetism that drew people in without them even realizing it.
And everyone’s pride whispered the same thing: Maybe I’ll be the one to melt that icy exterior.
Cen Wu was growing desperate, fumbling clumsily to grab the card. There was no way he’d pass it to someone else—that would be far too gross. With Xie Guilan, he could manage, but anyone else? Absolutely not. He planned to pretend to accidentally drop it, sparing himself from actually playing the game.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t manage it. His awkward attempts left him practically grinding the card against Xie Guilan’s lips, clumsily brushing against them in the process.
Xie Guilan’s gloved fingers held Cen Wu’s face firmly in place, forcing his cheek to puff out slightly under the pressure. For a moment, Cen Wu thought he heard a low chuckle, but when he met Xie Guilan’s gaze, all he saw was that same cold, detached expression.
It felt like ice water had been poured over him, smothering the heat on his face and leaving him cold and disoriented.
There was nothing between them—this was just about dealing with Wang Yue. And yet, his mind couldn’t help but replay the descriptions of Xie Guilan he’d heard before: So cold, so distant, that no matter how vulnerable you are, he’ll remain perfectly composed, his deep eyes staring at you with unrelenting indifference. Even if you’re consumed by anger or infatuation, it won’t touch him at all.
Cen Wu’s long lashes fluttered as he closed his eyes, finally giving in. Just as he was about to grab the card, Xie Guilan moved slightly. The card slipped, falling between them, and Cen Wu froze, lips pressed tightly together.
Had they just brushed lips? He wasn’t sure, but he stopped breathing altogether.
“Sorry,” Xie Guilan’s voice was low and cold. “I dropped it.”
Knowing the rules, Xie Guilan reached for a glass of whiskey, downed it in one smooth motion, and turned to leave. His red lips glistened slightly, wet from the drink, a stark contrast to his sharp, indifferent demeanor.
“I have work to do,” he said flatly. “I’ll excuse myself.” Without sparing Wang Yue a glance, he left the room.
Ji Changyu quickly snapped out of his shock and hurried after him, gesturing for the other staff to follow. The corridor outside was quiet, the soundproofed doors muffling the chaos within. They rode the elevator in silence, none daring to say a word.
When they finally reached the dance floor at the bar downstairs, the energy was electric, and the crowd was wild. The music’s pulse seemed to jolt Ji Changyu back to life. He nudged Xie Guilan with his elbow, a look of disbelief on his face.
“Are you out of your mind? Do you even realize what you just did? Aren’t you afraid of that walking nightmare coming after you?”
The more Ji Changyu thought about it, the more his concern grew. Even if it was just a card-passing game, what Xie Guilan did was almost indistinguishable from a kiss. Staring at Xie Guilan’s cold, unbothered expression, he felt even more frustrated. How could he act so indifferent when they were basically screwed?
Xie Guilan said nothing, his expression unreadable as he drank from a glass of cold water.
Back in the private room, an awkward silence hung in the air, stifling and heavy. Minutes had passed, but no one dared to speak.
Cen Wu’s flushed cheeks hadn’t completely cooled down, and the heat seemed to have spread to the tips of his ears. His lips, still slightly red and shiny from earlier, were a glaring reminder of what had just happened.
Just moments ago, when he had refused to lift his head, Xie Guilan had even lightly tugged at his hair from behind.
Wang Yue looked pale, trembling with fear, but no one else dared breathe a word about the incident either—so long as Cen Wu didn’t tattle to Xie Shangjing.
Cen Wu lowered his gaze, annoyed by the memory of Xie Guilan’s cold, emotionless eyes. The irritation simmered as he turned his attention to Wang Yue. Without a word, he picked up a glass of wine and threw it in his face.
Wiping the dripping liquid from his face, Wang Yue tried to keep calm. “Second Young Master, I was just trying to apologize. If this is how it’s going to be, then fine, I won’t say another word. But don’t expect me to explain myself later either.”
Cen Wu’s voice was cold and impatient. “If you don’t want to say anything, then don’t. Nothing you say interests me anyway.”
Wang Yue’s face turned an angry, embarrassed shade of red. He was seething as the wine soaked through his clothes, dripping down his neck. Unable to hold back, he sneered.
“He’s nothing but the illegitimate son of a prostitute. Just like Song Lingwei, working in this kind of place—what’s there to be so high and mighty about?”
“I’m giving him the honor of drinking a few glasses. What’s the big deal? Second Young Master, why are you making such a fuss? What does he even have to his name? He doesn’t even deserve a drink with me!”
Wang Yue thought of himself as someone well within the upper echelons of society and naturally looked down on people like Xie Guilan.
Cen Wu didn’t waste time arguing. He picked up the last glass of wine and tossed it in Wang Yue’s face, his voice cold and cutting.
“You do realize my last name is Cen, don’t you?”
People like Wang Yue could only be dealt with through the very privilege they feared. Cen Wu knew exactly where to strike to make it hurt.
Wang Yue’s face darkened, but he stayed silent.
“I recall your company has a movie being funded by Cen Corporation,” Cen Wu said, his fingers idly tapping the rim of his glass. His lips curved into a slight smile, but his eyes remained cold. “As of tonight, we’re pulling our investment.”
The film had been in the works for nearly three years, and the three billion yuan investment from Cen Corporation was crucial to its production. For the Cen family, it was pocket change, but for Wang Yue’s company, it was the cornerstone of the project.
Wang Yue’s stomach dropped. His parents had always turned a blind eye to his antics, dismissing them as trivial, but if he jeopardized the family’s business, they wouldn’t hesitate to make him pay.
Still, he couldn’t believe Cen Wu had the authority to make such a decision.
Cen Wu read the doubt on his face but didn’t bother to explain. Instead, he stood up and said, “You can wait for the news tonight.”
His words faltered slightly, but Wang Yue was too shaken to notice.
Without another glance, Cen Wu turned and left the room.
Zhu Zijian hurried to catch up, not wanting to stay behind in the awkward atmosphere.
At the bar, Xie Guilan was serving drinks to a customer when Cen Wu walked past, nearly making eye contact. Cen Wu quickly averted his gaze, his ears still faintly red.
Zhu Zijian, noticing this, wanted to kick Xie Guilan out of spite but held back. Cen Wu had made it clear he was protecting him. Instead, he settled for a heavy shoulder bump.
To his surprise, Cen Wu turned around immediately, displeased. “Why… why did you bump into him?”
Zhu Zijian was baffled. “Second Young Master, I just bumped into him a little. Besides, I think my shoulder took more damage.”
Cen Wu didn’t look at Xie Guilan or acknowledge Zhu Zijian further. He walked ahead a few steps before adding, “Don’t… don’t mess with him again.”
Zhu Zijian had known Cen Wu for years but never fully understood why he seemed to harbor such animosity toward Xie Guilan. He had assumed it was because of Cen Wu’s ambiguous relationship with Xie Shangjing and the tension stemming from Song Lingwei’s interference in Xie Shangjing’s family.
But now, it seemed like something else entirely.
Whatever the reason, Zhu Zijian had always followed Cen Wu’s lead, targeting whoever he disliked. Yet now, Cen Wu seemed resolute about shielding Xie Guilan.
In hindsight, Zhu Zijian realized that even Cen Wu’s visits to the Xie family were probably related to Xie Guilan.
If it weren’t for Xie’s father going to the hospital to visit Song Lingwei, Xie Shangjing would have already taken the whip to Xie Guilan.
To Xie Shangjing, Xie Guilan’s life was worthless, and so were his knees—not even worth as much as his pride. Xie Guilan’s constant cold demeanor only seemed to irritate him further. He was already being trampled like mud on the ground; maybe if he just accepted his fate, he could live a bit more comfortably.
“Got it,” Zhu Zijian replied, clearly displeased.
Not that it mattered—Cen Wu never cared for anything he said anyway. It seemed the only voice Cen Wu liked to hear was Xie Guilan’s.
Grinding his teeth in frustration, Zhu Zijian cursed inwardly. Where the hell did this male vixen even come from?
Wang Yue was definitely too scared to pull any more stunts, and Cen Wu didn’t stay at the bar much longer. Later that night, as Cen Wu lay in bed, he couldn’t stop replaying that moment in his head. His lips still felt warm, tingling from the way Xie Guilan had pressed down against him. His lips had gone numb from the pressure. What kind of person does that?
Unable to sleep, he picked up the phone and called Cen Xiao.
Cen Wu was confident he could get Cen Xiao to pull the funding. It wasn’t just a bluff—the movie was destined to implode anyway. Later, the male lead would be caught in a scandal with Wang Yue, arrested for solicitation, and the assistant director would also be exposed for drug use.
A perfect storm of scandals. The film would never even make it to theaters, and the investment would go up in smoke.
“Did Wang Yue bully you?” Cen Xiao’s tone became sharp the moment he heard Cen Wu’s hesitant words. “What did he do? Tell me the truth.”
Cen Wu skipped over the card game incident but spilled everything else to Cen Xiao. Complaining might feel shameful, but it was undeniably effective.
The Cen family doted on Cen Wu to an extreme degree, unwilling to let him suffer any injustice. Even without Cen Wu hinting at the film’s potential issues, Cen Xiao wouldn’t hesitate to withdraw the funding. And with the added mention of the assistant director’s scandal, Cen Xiao’s decision was immediate.
“Alright, I understand,” Cen Xiao said. “Get some rest. I’ll take care of it.”
Cen Wu’s tone softened, obedient and sweet. “Thanks, brother.”
But Cen Xiao wasn’t done. His voice turned serious again. “By the way, why have you been spending so much time with Xie Guilan lately? I thought you hated him?”
Cen Wu froze, breaking into a cold sweat. After a moment of thought, he decided to spin things in Xie Guilan’s favor.
Ever since Xie Guilan was taken in by the Cen family, his relationship with them had been distant—mostly because Xie Guilan kept them at arm’s length. The family’s lack of effort to truly understand him only widened the gap over time.
Cen Wu didn’t want Xie Guilan to remain some aloof and untouchable figure. That might make him an appealing protagonist in a novel, but to Cen Wu, Xie Guilan was a real person.
A real person who cared deeply for Song Lingwei, to the point that his miserable situation at the Xie family was entirely for her sake.
He didn’t completely ignore his family.
At least, not anymore.
Cen Wu hoped Cen Xiao and the others would treat Xie Guilan better. After all, once the truth about the whole cuckoo-in-the-nest situation came out, Cen Wu would leave and never look back. He wouldn’t be staying here forever.
There was still a long road ahead. In the original story, high school only took up less than a tenth of the plot. It was too long and lonely a journey for one person. Cen Wu wished that Cen Xiao and the others could be there for Xie Guilan.
“He… his grades are excellent,” Cen Wu began cautiously, lying through his teeth as he tried to sing Xie Guilan’s praises. “At school, he’s always helping me with problems and even buys me breakfast sometimes. I… I misunderstood him before and even bullied him, but he didn’t get mad.”
Yeah, right.
Xie Guilan had probably already cursed him a thousand times in his head.
Cen Xiao looked skeptical but didn’t press further.
Still, the night he went to pick up Cen Wu and Xie Guilan from the police station, Xie Guilan really didn’t seem to hold any animosity toward Cen Wu. That put Cen Xiao’s mind at ease, and he relented, “Fine. Let’s invite him over for dinner one day.”
Cen Xiao was busy—he had an international meeting to attend—so he hung up after Cen Wu finished speaking.
Lately, Cen Wu had gotten into the habit of sending Xie Guilan a nightly “goodnight” message, mainly to check if he was okay. If Xie Guilan could still reply, it meant he wasn’t seriously hurt, at the very least.
But tonight, after staring at the screen for a long time, typing and deleting over and over, Cen Wu ultimately didn’t send anything.
He tossed his phone aside.
Whatever. Time to sleep.
Who cared about some cold and aloof guy like that anyway?
At the bar, Xie Guilan didn’t get off work until 1:30 a.m. He was using Song Lingwei’s old phone, its cracked screen lagging every time he tried to open something.
But tonight, when he unlocked it, there was no little “goodnight cat” tucking itself into bed. Cen Wu’s chat window remained frozen at last night’s conversation.
Xie Guilan didn’t linger on it. He pocketed the phone and left.
The provincial chemistry competition was the day after tomorrow. Since he had to prepare, he didn’t return to the Xie family home but instead went straight to his rented room.
Xie Guilan’s academic achievements came with hard work. He stayed up until past three in the morning reviewing for the competition.
The shared rental wasn’t exactly soundproof. At night, the faint sound of arguments from next door echoed through the thin walls. Under the dim glow of his desk lamp, the wooden stairs carried the damp scent of mildew. Occasionally, the faint cries of stray cats broke the silence outside.
On Saturday, Xie Guilan had to work at a café until 6 p.m., after which he visited Song Lingwei in the hospital before heading to his job at Blue Night.
By the time he left Blue Night, it was already past 1 a.m. again.
This routine had been his life for almost three years.
At fifteen, he had already grown to six feet tall. His perpetually cold demeanor made him seem older, convincing others to hire him even in places that didn’t ask for ID.
The pay in such places was meager, but he couldn’t complain. As long as they paid, he was willing to do anything, even handing out flyers.
He also took jobs unloading goods for stores, working until his shoulders bled, only to earn fifty yuan for half a day’s labor.
That wasn’t even enough to cover a single day of Song Lingwei’s IV treatment, let alone her medications. Even if he starved himself, he couldn’t make enough.
The hospital bills always came in thick stacks.
When he got home that night, he saw a message from Cen Wu: a pouty cat emoji.
Then came a question:
【Cen Wu: Did you make it home?】
Xie Guilan didn’t respond.
Ten minutes later, after finishing his shower, he saw another message.
【Cen Wu: If you don’t tell me, I really won’t be able to sleep.】
Xie Guilan: “…”
He didn’t understand what Cen Wu was so worried about. Maybe he wasn’t as fragile as Cen Wu imagined.
After sending that message, Cen Wu didn’t follow up but kept showing as “typing.” For no reason, it carried a strangely pitiful undertone.
After half an hour of studying, Xie Guilan noticed that Cen Wu was still “typing.” Finally, he picked up his phone.
【Xie Guilan: Sleep.】
Cen Wu replied almost instantly.
【Cen Wu: Goodnight!】
【Cen Wu: Cat tucked in bed.jpg】
After a rainstorm, the weather had cooled considerably. The night wind swayed the dim light of the shared rental’s lamp, its glow reflected faintly in Xie Guilan’s dark eyes like tiny flames.
That night, he managed to fall asleep a bit earlier than usual.
The preliminary round of the provincial chemistry competition was held at Experimental High School.
Huaijing No. 1 High School was in the south of the city, while Experimental High was in the east—a considerable distance apart. Xie Guilan left at 6:30 a.m. to get there on time.
The preliminary round consisted of a written test in the morning and a series of experiments in the afternoon.
After finishing the written test, Xie Guilan followed the crowd out of the exam hall. He planned to grab a quick lunch at one of the eateries near the school.
Opposite the school was a noodle shop, but it was packed with other students taking the exam. Most restaurants in the area were bursting with people at lunchtime.
Finding a spot to sit, Xie Guilan opened his chemistry notes, reviewing a few complex experimental procedures while waiting for his food.
Before the noodles arrived, he noticed someone in a Kumamon mascot costume wobbling in his direction.
The mascot carried a basket on its arm, filled with bottled water, milk cartons, and various soft drinks.
It extended its hand, offering the basket to Xie Guilan.
Xie Guilan didn’t plan to take anything at first—he assumed it would cost money. He glanced away and silently declined. However, the Kumamon mascot grabbed his school uniform and pointed insistently at the basket.
It was only then that Xie Guilan noticed a sticker on the basket saying: Free giveaway from this shop.
After hesitating for a moment, he reached out, initially going for a bottle of water but then changing his mind and grabbing a lychee soda instead.
The Kumamon mascot, satisfied, waddled away to approach other people. The person inside the oversized suit seemed too small to fill it out properly, constantly supporting the heavy head with their hands as they walked. They looked clumsy and awkward.
Nearby, a group of kids, likely from the neighborhood, began crowding around the mascot, clinging to its legs and refusing to let go. The mascot froze for a moment, unsure of what to do.
“You can’t hold onto it like that!” the shop owner shouted gruffly. “It’s dangerous!”
The kids scattered, though one little boy stayed behind, spraying the mascot with a water gun. The mascot, now visibly annoyed, raised a paw in mock menace, scaring the boy off with a wail.
When the mascot looked up, they locked eyes with Xie Guilan’s dark, inscrutable gaze. Startled, the mascot took a step back. Then, perhaps remembering their “role,” they raised a paw to their mouth and blew him a kiss.
Xie Guilan: “…”
The students sharing tables nearby burst into laughter. Xie Guilan remained stone-faced, but some of the boys and girls started blowing kisses back at the mascot. Embarrassed, the mascot retreated outside, hiding behind the door. They peeked around cautiously, only half of their bulky body visible, gripping the edge of the doorframe like a shy child.
One of the girls, familiar with the shop, asked the owner, “This mascot is so cute! Is it new?”
The owner chuckled but avoided giving a direct answer.
Hidden inside the Kumamon suit, Cen Wu was panicking. He’d been helping hand out flyers at the door, and when he glanced over again, Xie Guilan had already finished his bowl of noodles and was staring directly at him.
Cen Wu: !!!
For a second, he thought Xie Guilan had recognized him. Heart pounding, Cen Wu shuffled further into the doorway, ensuring he was mostly hidden from view. Only after convincing himself that there was no way Xie Guilan could see him clearly did he let out a sigh of relief.
Xie Guilan would never agree to having someone accompany him to an exam, so Cen Wu had gone behind his back. He’d arranged with the shop owner to work a half-day shift here, allowing him to keep an eye on Xie Guilan discreetly.
Hiding under the oversized mascot costume eased his social anxiety, though the large crowd still made his legs tremble. Thankfully, the owner was kind and didn’t rush the students out after they finished eating, letting them rest or review their notes while refilling hot water for them.
At one point, the owner brought out a raffle box. “We’ve got a free meal up for grabs today! Let’s see who’s lucky.”
The regulars burst into cheers. This shop was known for its delicious noodles, and its owner was notoriously stingy. Even getting extra chili oil required negotiation—free meals were unheard of.
Xie Guilan frowned slightly but reached into the box when prompted, pulling out a blackened slip of paper.
“Whoa!” The owner clicked his tongue in mock amazement. “First draw, and you’ve won! You don’t have to pay for your meal today, kid. Want another bowl while you’re at it?”
The other students groaned in disappointment but couldn’t help admiring his luck.
“Isn’t that Xie Guilan? The top student at Huaijing No. 1 High? First time I’ve seen him in person. He’s even better-looking than his photo on the school’s honor board.”
“Ugh, why does he have to be good at everything? What does that make the rest of us, filler characters?”
“You think if I shake his hand, I’ll absorb some of his luck?”
“Better not—he might punch you instead.”
“Yeah, he looks like he could fight.”
By 2:30, the students had left to check into their exam rooms. Some lingered, blowing playful kisses at the Kumamon mascot, who skittered away shyly.
When Xie Guilan finally walked out, the mascot cautiously peeked its head out. Under the afternoon sunlight, rare for early autumn, Xie Guilan glanced back toward the shop. The mascot, perhaps emboldened, blew him another exaggerated kiss and waved goodbye.
Xie Guilan: “…”
He gave the mascot a long, probing look. Cen Wu felt like shrinking into himself. If not for the impending exam, Xie Guilan might have come over and yanked the headpiece off.
Unlike most of his peers, Xie Guilan attended exams alone. No parents accompanied him—not for this chemistry competition or any other. Even during middle school exams, he’d been on his own.
His mother, Song Lingwei, wasn’t bedridden, but she never came to support him, not even for parent-teacher meetings. She preferred to avoid him, a remnant of her guilt and fear after swapping him as a baby.
Watching Xie Guilan enter the exam venue, Cen Wu slumped onto the steps outside the school gate. An elderly man, likely waiting for his own grandchild, had set up a small stand nearby. He noticed the mascot and struck up a conversation.
“You here to drop off your kid?” the man asked, assuming the mascot was another parent earning some side income.
Cen Wu: “…”
The mascot nodded solemnly. Why not? Xie Guilan was like his rebellious child, after all.
The man patted the mascot’s paw sympathetically. “Must be tough in there. Hot, huh?”
The mascot nodded again.
Cen Wu hadn’t planned to take off the headpiece—it provided a comforting layer of anonymity. But the suit was suffocatingly hot. He finally gave in, pulling it off to reveal a fresh, dewy face. His hair was damp with sweat, and his long lashes stuck together.
The old man blinked at him in surprise. “You look so young.”
Cen Wu: “…”
Cen Wu: “.”
Xie Guilan’s exam ended at 5:30 PM. It wasn’t completely dark yet, but the sky had dimmed considerably. The setting sun cast a golden glow as he checked his phone and saw a message from Cen Wu.
【Cen Wu: Finished your exam?】
【Cen Wu: Peeking head.jpg】
Cen Wu was sitting in a car parked across from the school. He had deliberately asked the family driver to switch cars to avoid being recognized by Xie Guilan. From his vantage point, he saw Xie Guilan replying to him at the school gate.
【Xie Guilan: Yes.】
Xie Guilan looked up briefly at the noodle shop he’d visited earlier that day, but by evening, the Kumamon mascot outside had disappeared.
With the exams finally over, Cen Wu let out a sigh of relief. That night, he had to attend a banquet celebrating the birthday of Mr. Lu, the patriarch of the Lu family. His parents and older brother, Cen Xiao, were also attending, and of course, he was expected to go as well.
After Xie Guilan left, the driver took Cen Wu to a hotel in downtown Huaijing City.
Under the night sky, the hotel lights shone brightly.
Lu Wang was dressed in a small suit. When he saw Cen Wu, he ran over excitedly to bring him to meet his grandfather.
The Lu and Cen families were close, and the old man wasn’t aware of the 600,000 yuan Cen Wu had conned out of Lu Wang. He genuinely liked Cen Wu, smiling warmly as he reached out to pat his head.
Then he said, “Go play with Wang Wang. Tonight, I’ve asked the chef to prepare many dishes you’ll both enjoy.”
“Thank… thank you, Grandpa.” Cen Wu pretended to be obedient.
After meeting the patriarch, Cen Xiao led him to greet other guests. The hall bustled with activity; fragrances mingled with elegant outfits. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the dazzling cityscape of Huaijing stretched out below.
To his surprise, Cen Wu spotted Xie Guilan. He froze momentarily, not expecting that Xie’s father would bring him to such an event.
Xie Shangjing wasn’t there, though. Cen Wu had seen on Xie’s social media that he was overseas for a competition and wouldn’t return until mid-September.
Xie Guilan wore a black suit that highlighted his tall, refined figure, exuding a noble charm that seemed to elevate even the inexpensive fabric of his attire.
However, few people approached him. If anyone did, it was likely only to mock him. Xie Guilan avoided eating anything, standing silently by the floor-to-ceiling windows as he gazed at the night view.
“Brother,” Cen Wu tugged on Cen Xiao’s sleeve and pointed in Xie Guilan’s direction, signaling his intent to go over.
Cen Xiao raised an eyebrow but didn’t object. “Go ahead.”
Cen Wu walked over and grabbed Xie Guilan by the wrist, pulling him along to get something to eat.
Xie Guilan avoided eating at these events because it always attracted troublemakers like Wang Yue, who would jeer at him and ruin his appetite.
The buffet area was a bit far from the windows, and on the way, they encountered many people who stopped Cen Wu to exchange pleasantries.
Without the original host’s memories, Cen Wu didn’t recognize anyone. He could only offer awkward but polite smiles.
A middle-aged man in a suit enthusiastically approached. “Wu Wu, you’ve grown taller! The last time I saw you was at your birthday party last year. Haha.”
Cen Wu: “Haha.”
The man: “…”
Cen Wu: “…”
The awkwardness made Cen Wu’s toes curl. Surely this banquet hall had been carved out by his embarrassment.
He never let go of Xie Guilan’s wrist. Xie Guilan glanced at the soft swirl of hair on Cen Wu’s head and thought he looked fragile—like a kitten trying to puff out its chest but still weak and pliant.
Several people approached, leaving Cen Wu’s fingertips pale and trembling. He took a deep breath, stubbornly shielding Xie Guilan as they finally made it to the buffet area.
“What would you like to eat?” Xie Guilan asked.
“I… I’ll get it myself. Don’t… don’t bother with me. You eat first,” Cen Wu stammered.
But Xie Guilan, who was essentially treated as a servant by both the Xie and Cen families, couldn’t just leave him alone. He began filling a plate for Cen Wu. Whenever he noticed something Cen Wu wanted, he saw the boy’s lashes flutter slightly faster.
Cen Wu was almost overwhelmed, surprised that Xie Guilan would bother to take care of him. It gave him the illusion that his rebellious “child” had grown up.
Carrying their plates, they retreated to a quieter corner to eat.
Xie Guilan went back several times to get more food for Cen Wu. Though he was already quite full, Cen Wu forced himself to take a few bites out of fear that rejecting the gesture would hurt Xie Guilan’s feelings. Resting his face in his hands, he chewed slowly.
It wasn’t until he noticed that Cen Wu’s plate was overloaded that Xie Guilan realized he had given him too much. Cen Wu was eating sluggishly, his eyes reddened with exhaustion. His pale cheeks puffed slightly as he held a piece of shrimp in his mouth for an eternity, unable to swallow.
Still, he ate obediently, as though he would never resist anything Xie Guilan did.
So easy to bully.
Xie Guilan: “…”
Lowering his gaze, he took away Cen Wu’s plate, his voice calm. “If you’re too full, don’t force yourself.”
Cen Wu: You do have a heart after all.
His eyes glistened with relief. He’d eaten to the point of discomfort, and now Xie Guilan finally showed some compassion.
The banquet ended late, but Cen Wu had school the next day. His mother asked Cen Xiao to drive him home.
This time, Cen Xiao brought Xie Guilan along without needing any coaxing from Cen Wu.
As they were leaving the hall, Wang Yue’s uncle, Wang Jianbin, hurried after them. “Mr. Cen! Mr. Cen!”
Cen Xiao stopped in his tracks.
Wang Jianbin, sweating profusely, had his tie askew and looked flustered. Though clearly agitated, he didn’t dare lose his temper, instead pleading obsequiously, “Mr. Cen, you can’t just pull funding for the movie project. We’re about to sign the contract!”
“Mr. Wang,” Cen Xiao said, patting him on the shoulder with a faint smile, “You know, I only have one younger brother, and my parents adore him. Maybe you should focus on managing your nephew instead. There’s always next time.”
Though his smile remained, Cen Xiao’s tone was icy.
Wang Jianbin’s legs nearly gave out. He knew the project was dead in the water. Not only that, but they had thoroughly offended the Cen family.
He was so angry he could have devoured Wang Yue alive. He had been in charge of this project the whole time. Wang Yue wasn’t even his son—what did it have to do with him? And yet, he’d gone and made such a huge mess of things!
Cen Xiao didn’t pay any more attention to Wang Jianbin. He drove Cen Wu home and dropped Xie Guilan off on the way.
The car’s interior lights were dim. Cen Wu had eaten too much and was feeling sleepy. Halfway through the ride, he couldn’t hold it any longer and leaned against Xie Guilan’s shoulder, falling asleep.
Xie Guilan paused for a moment before turning his head. Cen Wu was deeply asleep, his pale cheek resting softly against his shoulder, creating a gentle curve. His long, thick lashes cast a small shadow on his face.
Xie Guilan’s gaze lingered on Cen Wu’s face for a few seconds. Then, realizing someone was watching him, he looked up and met Cen Xiao’s cold stare in the rearview mirror.
Xie Guilan didn’t resemble the Cen family much, except for his eyes, which were eerily similar to Cen Xiao’s—cold, dark peach blossom eyes. But no one noticed this resemblance.
Cen Xiao trusted his instincts.
Though Xie Guilan was only a high school student, he felt an ominous presence about him. Even if he hid his claws, a vicious dog would still be a vicious dog.
Xie Guilan didn’t look away immediately when their eyes met. After a second of silent eye contact, he casually shifted his gaze.
His expression was so detached it would’ve left even a micro-expression expert frustrated.
Cen Xiao also looked away.
Cen Wu, unaware of anything, still slept deeply, even though the car was slightly shaking. In his sleep, he clung to Xie Guilan’s arm, his fingers lightly curling around Xie Guilan’s hand.
The two remained silent. As they passed a pharmacy, Xie Guilan spoke up. “Mr. Cen, the young master ate too much tonight. I’m worried he might have a stomachache. I’d like to get him some medicine.”
Cen Xiao glanced at him, then stopped the car. But since Cen Wu was still sleeping on Xie Guilan’s shoulder, Cen Xiao told him, “Don’t wake him up, I’ll go.”
He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out.
Once Cen Xiao was gone, the coldness in Xie Guilan’s eyes grew more pronounced. Cen Wu shifted uncomfortably in his sleep, so Xie Guilan gently pinched his cheek to adjust his position, making him more comfortable.
“Xie Guilan…” Cen Wu suddenly mumbled his name in his sleep.
Xie Guilan unconsciously curled his fingers and gripped Cen Wu’s delicate fingers.
Cen Wu’s long lashes fluttered as he murmured his name again, his eyes red at the corners. He curled up a little closer to Xie Guilan’s shoulder.
A few minutes later, after Cen Xiao returned with the medicine, Cen Wu finally fell into a deeper sleep.
Cen Wu had a strange, frightening dream. He dreamt that Xie Guilan kissed him again, wearing the same uniform from the Blue Night. As they kissed, something felt off. It didn’t seem right—Liu Bei and Guan Yu didn’t kiss like that, right? He groggily tried to push Xie Guilan away, only to feel a tail. Xie Guilan was actually a demon!
Cen Wu barely managed to push Xie Guilan away and escape.
As the car started again, Xie Guilan swallowed, feeling the slight dampness in his palms as he held Cen Wu’s hand.
Cen Wu had definitely developed feelings for him. It wasn’t just a crush on people like Ah Ling. It was… real affection. Was it possible he liked him this much?