Yin Chen was spacing out.
He was staring at the luxury car in front of him, dazed.
He was staring at row after row of luxury cars, dazed.
And he had been dazed for a full fifteen minutes, still unable to figure it out.
Was it that luxury cars weren’t “satisfying” enough?
Or that a whole row of them still wasn’t enough?
Why on earth had he gotten involved with a man who couldn’t even afford a single wheel?
And…
He lowered his head silently, glancing at his own—pants.
Pretty big.
Pretty good.
But…
He looked up at the sky, still puzzled.
He always felt he liked bigger.
So why had he been drawn to that one…
Lips like petals—soft, pouty lips, obviously not his preferred wild type;
Innocent doe-like eyes—tears falling at the slightest provocation, what was there to cry about?
A slim waist that could be grasped with one hand—wasn’t a hunky waist more fun? This one clearly wouldn’t be “rough enough”;
In short, he still couldn’t figure out why he had been attracted to that person in the first place.
Oh, right.
He thought for a moment, digging through his memory to find a small picture.
Yes, really small.
Which made him even more confused.
The more tangled his thoughts became, the more his phone suddenly buzzed.
Oh, it was that person’s message.
Yin Chen opened it expressionlessly.
“Sorry, are you busy? Can you come out to see me? I’m a little sad. I’m waiting at Central Bar.”
After sending the message, Lin Yuhan immediately ordered a “Depth Charge.”
The bartender looked at his delicate little face and couldn’t help but speak up.
“Are you sure? After this, you might collapse…”
Beautiful people always inspired a strange kind of concern.
“Maybe I should mix you something else? Drinking alone isn’t safe.”
“No, just this.”
Lin Yuhan smiled bitterly, murmuring,
“Even a bartender worries about my safety… why don’t you, Dongfang Wan, care at all?”
“Sigh… suit yourself.”
Seeing he couldn’t convince him, the bartender shook his head and prepared the drink—but couldn’t help keeping an eye on Lin Yuhan.
Sure enough, within five minutes of finishing the drink, Lin Yuhan’s face flushed, his eyes growing misty.
Predatory gazes in the bar began circling him.
Soon, a middle-aged man, looking somewhat respectable, made his move.
He sat down next to the petite beauty, voice tinged with eagerness.
“Isn’t it boring to drink alone, handsome? Let me buy you a drink?”
The word “together” was laced with ambiguity, his eyes scanning Lin Yuhan with ill intentions.
Lin Yuhan squinted at the thinning hair on the man’s temples, shaking his head sluggishly.
“No, I don’t drink with bald men…”
The bartender hesitated mid-step.
The man’s expression instantly changed to panic.
“Wha—what? I… I was just drunk, I didn’t mean it… You’re clearly the CEO’s lover, sir, please don’t take me seriously!”
Yin Chen arrived at just the right moment.
Drunk Lin Yuhan reached for the man instinctively, but Yin Chen caught him before the hand could make contact.
The middle-aged man immediately fled.
Yin Chen held Lin Yuhan and watched the man disappear, silent for two seconds.
Honestly, even he couldn’t “satisfy” him—Lin Yuhan’s heart was reserved for his true love alone.
And…
Yin Chen blinked slowly.
He wasn’t really into sports, either—so probably couldn’t “satisfy” him in that sense either.
“Is this handsome guy your friend, CEO?” the bartender asked, now used to the chaos.
Yin Chen glanced at the lightweight Lin Yuhan in his arms, considered for a few seconds, and shook his head.
“Not a friend, and likely never will be.”
Today, Yin Chen realized something: he actually didn’t like Lin Yuhan.
He spent money on him, guarded him, smiled for him—but it didn’t bring him happiness.
Liking someone was supposed to feel sweet—but he hadn’t felt that way.
He decided he would tell Lin Yuhan once he sobered up.
Effortlessly, he lifted the petite man onto his shoulder, nodded politely to the bartender, left some bills, and exited the bar.
Later, after Lin Yuhan awoke to the morning sun, singing at a pitch rivaling Pavarotti, Yin Chen was already up, watching him with calm detachment.
He explained over breakfast:
“I’ve decided to tell you clearly: I don’t like you anymore. From now on, I’ll do what I want, eat what I want.”
Lin Yuhan choked on his coffee, stunned.
“I… I don’t understand—why now?”
Yin Chen’s gaze was serious.
“I don’t know. Yesterday, I suddenly realized I don’t like you anymore. Liking you doesn’t make me happy, so I’ll stop pretending.”
Lin Yuhan’s eyes widened. Could someone really stop liking someone all at once?
Yin Chen continued:
“Previously, I thought liking you meant eating the same breakfast. But I realized I actually hate dry toast and bitter coffee. What I like is warm soy milk and freshly steamed buns. That’s real liking.”
Lin Yuhan looked at his untouched coffee. It was exactly how Dongfang Wan liked it—he’d grown used to foreign tastes during his time abroad.
Suddenly, Lin Yuhan felt confused. When had he started preferring toast and coffee over traditional Chinese breakfast?
Probably… after he liked Dongfang Wan.
Yin Chen finished his meal, stood, and said:
“Okay, that’s all. I’m leaving now.”
Before leaving, he turned slightly, smirked, and added:
“As a friend, I’ll tell you one more secret: the biggest reason I stopped liking you… is that I realized I don’t like anyone smaller than me.”
The door closed.
Lin Yuhan was left in stunned silence.
Outside, Yin Chen felt a lightness in his chest, a joy he hadn’t felt in ages. Doing what he truly wanted—being himself—felt wonderful.
Nearby, Zong Cheng, holding a room key, froze, his eyes inadvertently catching Yin Chen’s handsome profile.
In this world, even escaping the anime realm wasn’t enough—reality itself seemed overrun.