When Wen Yuan returned home, night had already fallen.
Zhou Man hadn’t gone to bed yet; she was on the phone with Ning Yuan. Upon seeing him, she hung up and came over.
“You’re back! How’s Xingchen?” she asked.
“Pretty good,” Wen Yuan said, taking off his coat.
Zhou Man smiled. “Did you meet his roommate?”
“No, his roommate went to work on a film,” he replied.
“That soon?” Zhou Man was surprised. “I told Xiao Rong before, since she’s an actress and Xiao Pei is too, maybe they’ll meet one day. If so, she should help and take care of Xiao Pei as much as possible.”
Wen Yuan nodded slightly. “Yes, she should take care of him.”
Zhou Man was about to respond when she noticed him looking at her with a faint smile in his eyes.
“Perhaps… she’ll be his future sister-in-law,” he said.
“Ah?” Zhou Man was surprised. “What do you mean by that?”
Wen Yuan smiled and led her to the sofa.
Since he had arrived early today, he had helped Lan Xingchen tidy up his room.
As he was tidying up, Wen Yuan noticed that the room held many things that clearly didn’t belong to Lan Xingchen.
Not only that—the master bathroom had two towels of different colors, two toothbrush holders, two toothbrushes. Everything plainly indicated that the bedroom was shared by two people.
Before coming over, Wen Yuan had heard Zhou Man mention that Lan Xingchen now had a roommate.
Zhou Man spoke highly of him: “Xiao Pei is good-looking, has a great temperament, can cook, very polite, and seems young—so refined, like a student.”
“Now that Xingchen lives with him, he doesn’t feel lonely. They take care of each other—it’s much better than him living alone.”
“Here, this is something he wanted me to bring back from his filming location, a local specialty. Try it.”
Hearing this, Wen Yuan thought it was indeed a good thing.
He was just a little curious—Lan Xingchen had lived alone after moving out, so how did he suddenly end up with a roommate?
But he didn’t think much of it.
Later, when Zhou Man went to deliver gifts from their recent overseas trip to Ning Yuan and Ning Rong, she also brought some of Xiao Pei’s specialty treats to share with them.
When she returned, she said to him, “I thought I was the first to meet Xiao Pei, but it turns out Xiao Yuan met him even earlier.”
“They know each other?” Wen Yuan asked.
Zhou Man shook her head. “No, they only met once. It was summer. Xingchen and Xiao Pei went out to eat and ran into Xiao Yuan.”
Wen Yuan nodded. “And what did Xiao Yuan say?”
“Nothing much—they didn’t really talk. He just assumed Xingchen must get along well with him.”
She laughed as she spoke. “When Xiao Rong heard that both of us had met Xiao Pei, she was a little upset—thought she hadn’t seen him yet. I quickly told her you hadn’t either, and that made her feel a bit better.”
Wen Yuan: …
He glanced at his wife with mock grievance. “Do you think I’m happy hearing this?”
Zhou Man immediately laughed, picked up a chicken wing for him, and gently soothed, “It’s fine. When you’re free, you can go see Xingchen—then you’ll get to meet Xiao Pei too.”
So, finally carving out some time, Wen Yuan immediately went straight to Lan Xingchen’s place.
But Xiao Pei wasn’t there—what Wen Yuan saw instead was a fact he probably shouldn’t have discovered so soon.
“I don’t want to jump to conclusions, so I checked the other rooms. As expected, they showed no signs of anyone living there. So, these days, Xiao Pei has indeed been sleeping in Xingchen’s room.”
Zhou Man: !!!
She stared at him, speechless.
Her mind drifted to that embrace—the tight, lingering hug Lan Xingchen had given Xiao Pei.
She hadn’t exactly doubted it before—she cared too much, and since she wasn’t as close to Lan Xingchen as Wen Yuan was, she instinctively didn’t want to speculate, feeling it would be disrespectful.
Now, it seemed that hug had indeed been overly intimate.
“It’s just sharing a room, right?” Zhou Man tried to defend Xingchen. “Young people these days are open-minded. It’s common to sleep in the same room when dating. Besides, Xingchen and Xiao Pei are both adults—the legal age for marriage is reached.”
Wen Yuan looked at her.
Her voice was gentle, but her tone firm: “I think whether same-sex or opposite-sex, it’s not a problem. The key is that Xingchen must like the person. If he doesn’t, whether boy or girl, we can’t force him. Marriage should be based on love and willingness—otherwise, it only brings pain.”
Listening, Wen Yuan thought perhaps she was recalling past experiences. He took her hand, smiling. “I never said I disagreed. Don’t worry so much.”
Zhou Man finally smiled, reassured. She had indeed worried that Wen Yuan might disapprove—after all, even though policies had become more open, same-sex marriages were still rare, especially in a family like Lan Xingchen’s.
Moreover, Xingchen was Lan He’s child. Wen Yuan cared deeply about his sister and his nephew—sometimes, his care made him stubborn in certain matters.
Fortunately, he hadn’t been.
Seeing that Zhou Man wasn’t overthinking, just discussing Xingchen’s situation, Wen Yuan relaxed.
Zhou Man’s past hadn’t been easy, but she was rare—a soft yet resilient person. Wen Yuan liked her and naturally felt protective, worried that her past might linger like stubborn weeds, choking her.
Thankfully, Zhou Man’s heart was stronger than he had imagined. She had long since burned those weeds, growing freely in the wind, a rose thriving above the wild grass.
“Xiao Pei has a good personality—he seems caring and cheerful. Once you meet him, you’ll see he’s a really good kid. No wonder Xingchen likes him.”
Wen Yuan chuckled lightly. “I’ll have to meet him first, then.”
“Your birthday is coming up in a few days,” Zhou Man suggested. “You can have Xingchen bring him over.”
“True,” Wen Yuan nodded.
He didn’t rush to message Lan Xingchen immediately—too late in the day, and he didn’t want to disturb him.
It wasn’t until the next day at noon, after finishing lunch, that Wen Yuan casually mentioned to Lan Xingchen: “My birthday is coming up in a few days. If your roommate is free, he can come too.”
Lan Xingchen: !!!
Reading the message, he jumped in alarm. What did “come too” mean?
Who was coming too?
Why was Xiao Pei coming along?!
They weren’t even a so-called boy-boy couple—why bring him over?!
Even if, hypothetically, they were a couple, they weren’t at the point of marriage talks yet. There was no rush to meet the family.
Lan Xingchen suddenly felt a headache coming on.
He quickly replied: “It might not be that convenient. His schedule is unpredictable, and he’s busy—it’s hard for him to take time off.”
Then, worried that his uncle might not believe him, he sheepishly added: “You don’t know—he’s that kind of actor without much recognition, just like a junior employee at your company. Normally, taking leave depends on the boss’s mood. Especially at the start of a project, when all the senior members are present, it’s really difficult for him to ask for time off.”
After hearing this, Wen Yuan didn’t push any further.
He wanted to meet Pei Qingjian just to see the person his nephew liked—not to make things difficult—so there was no need for him to cause unnecessary trouble. There would be plenty of time in the future; there was no rush.
Wen Yuan messaged: “Then let’s leave it for now. We can talk about it later.”
Lan Xingchen finally breathed a sigh of relief. Thank heavens—he didn’t have to roll that snowball any further.
“Okay.” He replied obediently.
Pei Qingjian had no idea that he had just unintentionally dodged a meeting. At that moment, he was busy filming with Ning Rong.
Filming modern-day scenes versus period dramas was different—the former felt closer to real life, which made it easier to immerse oneself. With Ning Rong’s constant guidance, Pei Qingjian’s acting improved significantly in just a few days.
Zhou Peng couldn’t help but remark: “Some people really need time to settle. The Pei Qingjian I see now is completely different from the one I first met.”
Those cold days on the bench hadn’t been wasted.
A few days later, Wen Yuan’s birthday arrived. Lan Xingchen left work early and headed to Wen Yuan’s villa.
When Wen Yuan was single, his birthdays were extravagant—mostly social events to meet business contacts while introducing Lan Xingchen to new people.
After marriage, his birthdays became more low-key. They were just family meals at home, chatting together—ordinary, like anyone else’s.
This year was no different.
Zhou Man had prepared a table full of dishes. Seeing Lan Xingchen arrive, she smiled and brought out some freshly washed fruit.
“Some dishes aren’t ready yet. Wait a moment,” she said gently.
Lan Xingchen nodded and set the cake on the coffee table.
Wen Yuan, unusually free that day, had only worked half a day. But even at home, his phone constantly rang with work matters. After finishing lunch, he retreated to his study, leaving the living room.
Lan Xingchen, familiar with the house, went upstairs and approached the study door. He knocked and peeked inside.
“Come in,” Wen Yuan said, smiling at him. Lan Xingchen’s curious, tiptoeing way reminded him of childhood.
Lan Xingchen walked in and stood behind his chair, looking at the documents on his computer.
Wen Yuan didn’t speak, quietly reviewing the files.
After a while, Lan Xingchen grew bored and decided to help him with a shoulder massage.
“How obedient,” Wen Yuan murmured softly.
Lan Xingchen looked down at him, catching sight of a few strands of gray hair.
His uncle wasn’t young anymore. Lan Xingchen thought about how he had devoted most of his life to him and was only now beginning to have a life of his own.
Often, when Lan Xingchen lived alone, he felt a subtle distance growing between him and Wen Yuan.
But returning home, seeing Wen Yuan appear before him, looking at him—the hours spent apart seemed to compress into a thin sheet of paper, with no thickness or gaps.
He instinctively leaned closer, stayed near him, spoke to him, watched him work. They remained as they had always been, as if time had never changed anything. Wen Yuan was still the elder he cherished, and he was still the child he loved deeply.
In Lan Xingchen’s memory, his father’s image was already vague. Lu Yinkong had left too long ago, too early. He only remembered him as tall, handsome, able to lift him effortlessly, carrying him on his shoulders and playing countless games with him.
Yet more often, he felt that Wen Yuan was more like a father figure—someone who had accompanied him through every stage of life, sharing in his joys and sorrows.
He knew Wen Yuan wasn’t his father, but it felt remarkably similar.
Now, seeing the gray hairs, he felt the passage of time. Though he had grown up, he still felt the same comfort and ease as in childhood.
Gently pressing on Wen Yuan’s shoulders, Lan Xingchen felt his uncle relax, and the worries buried in his heart gradually faded.
Wen Yuan, of course, knew a child was an independent being with his own thoughts, capable of conflicts during growth. He hadn’t expected Lan Xingchen’s stage of development to come so late—but it was normal. Having lived together so long, Lan Xingchen had needed time alone when his life was suddenly disrupted. Moving out and living independently was perfectly understandable.
Wen Yuan only worried that a long separation might create distance between them.
At first, he visited often, but as both became busier, sometimes Wen Yuan would wait late into the night at Lan Xingchen’s place to see him return from work.
Lan Xingchen didn’t want his uncle to wait hours for him and, seeing him back home, would only leave a few reminders before hurrying off.
“I can take care of myself. Don’t worry so much. You should rest and spend time with Zhou Man,” he advised.
Wen Yuan nodded, gradually visiting less frequently, understanding that Lan Xingchen could manage on his own.
Especially this year, everything seemed to come one after another for him. He even had a trip abroad, which meant that from summer to autumn, he had barely seen Lan Xingchen.
But now it seemed that while separation might create some distance, that distance would vanish once they were together again.
When apart, it felt like they had grown a bit distant; when together, he realized Lan Xingchen was still exactly the same as before. Nothing had really changed.
After saving his files, Wen Yuan stood up and left the study together with Lan Xingchen.
Soon, Zhou Man finished the last few dishes, and dinner officially began.
Lan Xingchen looked at the three of them at the table—Ning Yuan and Ning Rong were absent.
For three years in a row, they hadn’t come to celebrate Wen Yuan’s birthday.
If the first year was an accident, the second a coincidence, then what about the third?
Especially Ning Yuan—he and Wen Yuan were both at Anglai, seeing each other all the time. Was it really so difficult to show up for Wen Yuan’s birthday?
If he could always rush home for Zhou Man’s birthday to wish her, why couldn’t Ning Yuan and Ning Rong do the same?
Lan Xingchen felt a bit indignant on behalf of his uncle.
Petulantly, he thought that next year, for Zhou Man’s birthday, he wouldn’t go either—so Ning Yuan and Ning Rong could feel what it was like not to have their relatives care about them.
But he quickly dismissed the idea—it was childish. Besides, Zhou Man had done nothing wrong; she had always treated him well. He shouldn’t vent his frustration over Ning Yuan and Ning Rong on her.
Still, he couldn’t let go of it. The next day, after leaving Wen Yuan’s villa and returning to his company, he couldn’t help but vent to Shao Kang about it.
Shao Kang tried to comfort him: “Maybe they just happened to be busy.”
“How busy can they be? Busier than me and my uncle?”
“Hey, you don’t really care about them, so them not coming actually makes things easier for you.”
“That’s different,” Lan Xingchen said. “Whether I like them is one thing; whether they come is another. For my aunt’s birthday, I still go back and see them face to face.”
Shao Kang made him a cup of tea to calm him down, but the more Lan Xingchen drank, the more irritated he felt.
“No, I need a few days off.”
“Eh?” Shao Kang looked puzzled.
Lan Xingchen fixed him with a look: “I’m taking leave, starting today.”
Shao Kang: ???
“Until when?”
“Depends on my mood.”
“No—” Shao Kang pointed at the stack of files on his desk, “there’s still so much work here. You’re taking leave?”
“Yes,” Lan Xingchen said with confidence. “When you and Xiao Yi went on your domestic and overseas trips, I handled even more than you did alone. Now it’s your turn.”
Shao Kang: ……
Lan Xingchen stood up, patted his shoulder, and said, “Work well; I’m off.”
Shao Kang: ……
Shao Kang picked up the tea he had just made for him and gulped it down to calm himself.
Having officially approved his own leave, Lan Xingchen casually drove away from the company.
In a bad mood, he decided to see someone who could cheer him up—Pei Qingjian.
But when he arrived at Pei Qingjian’s filming location, Zhou Pengyue led him inside. Seeing the people around Pei Qingjian, Lan Xingchen’s mood worsened immediately.
Ning Rong was here too?
Wasn’t she supposed to only act in movies? Why was she appearing on a TV drama set now?!
Author’s note:
At this moment, Shao Kang: “He’s not human! He told me to take leave right in front of me! He’s too much!”
Xiao Yi: “…So, you finished your work?”
Shao Kang: ???
Shao Kang: “You’re colder than he is!”
Xiao Yi: “Then go back to work.”
Shao Kang: …QAQ