Two days later, when Qiao Jin went back to the gym, he ran into Sui Ran.
Fu Linxiao was off to the side doing stretches. Watching Sui Ran talking to Dada at the front desk, signing up for a membership, he nudged Qiao Jin with a smirk.
“I had no way to turn him down this time. Honestly, I think the books were just an excuse. He’s here for you.”
Qiao Jin was next to him, both of them stretching their legs in sync.
“Buzz off.”
After signing up, Dada brought Sui Ran over with a cheerful grin that made his eyes crinkle.
“You guys always come together—I’m afraid I haven’t been giving you the most focused attention.”
“Is that messing with your work?” Fu Linxiao asked.
Dada laughed and kept calling them “bro” sweetly and often.
“Of course not! I just deduct sessions per visit. Might not be the most cost-effective deal for you guys though.”
“We don’t mind.” Fu Linxiao tilted his chin toward Qiao Jin. “Right, Qiao Jin?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m good with it too.” Sui Ran walked over and stood next to Qiao Jin. “I’m really just tagging along with President Fu.”
“Oh?” Fu Linxiao teased, “Then what were you doing over on that side?”
Both of them laughed. Qiao Jin let out a soft chuckle as well.
Sui Ran rubbed his nose, then finally greeted him.
“Good evening, President Qiao Jin.”
“Good evening,” Qiao Jin replied. “Next you’re going to ask if I’ve eaten yet, and what I ate?”
“I almost did,” Sui Ran laughed. He found Qiao Jin easier to get along with than he’d expected. “No wonder you’re in such good shape—you live at the gym, huh?”
Qiao Jin responded politely. “You’re not doing too bad yourself.”
“You didn’t even look before saying that.” Sui Ran stretched his leg alongside him, his athletic pants pulled taut at the bend of his knee. He wasn’t wearing a jacket—just a short-sleeved shirt, and the muscle on his arms didn’t match his otherwise scholarly vibe. He didn’t look like a typical white-collar guy.
Qiao Jin actually turned his head this time and gave him a genuine compliment.
“Not bad at all.”
“Wanna feel?” Sui Ran asked offhandedly.
Qiao Jin chuckled, still playing along.
“I’ve got my own. No need.”
Then he stood up, walked to a bench opposite them, and grabbed the lat pulldown bar.
Fu Linxiao shifted over a bit and, watching Qiao Jin from the corner of his eye, quietly said to Sui Ran,
“Dude, Qiao Jin’s not a chick. That flirting stuff doesn’t work on him. When he looks at your muscles, it’s the same look he gives our trainer—pure observation. So, what are you actually here for?”
Sui Ran raised an eyebrow. His smile was mild, almost gentle.
“I figured if I warmed him up a bit, maybe he’d be willing to sell me the book.”
“You think that’s gonna work?” Fu glanced at Qiao Jin, who was focused on his workout, then added,
“Don’t mess around. Flirt all you want with other people, but not him.”
“Why not?” Sui Ran asked. “What’s your relationship with him?”
“Childhood friends. Grew up together.” Fu Linxiao answered smoothly.
Sui Ran paused. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. But it’s pure brotherhood. If you mess with him, you mess with me—and then we’re not cool anymore.”
Sui Ran stared at him for a few seconds, then switched legs and sighed.
“Alright, got it.”
Qiao Jin finished two sets on the lat pulldown. Dada came over to adjust his form.
“Try not to hold your breath when you’re pulling, bro. Inhale slowly, then exhale on the release.”
Dada placed his hand on Qiao Jin’s abdomen and guided him through the motion.
Sui Ran watched from across the gym, confused again.
“…Is he straight?”
Fu Linxiao thought about it and finally answered honestly.
“I don’t know.”
Sui Ran looked like he didn’t quite know what to say. Fu Linxiao just shrugged.
“Really—I don’t.”
“He doesn’t have a partner? No guy, no girl?”
Fu Linxiao hesitated. He wasn’t sure if Lu Pingzhang counted or not. The question clearly left him conflicted.
“…Man, stop prying.”
Sui Ran shot him an apologetic look and, true to his word, dropped the subject.
Nearby, Dada stood off to the side now that Qiao Jin had gotten the hang of the movement and just quietly watched over him.
Once Fu Linxiao and the others were done stretching, they sat down next to Qiao Jin. Just as Dada opened his mouth to speak, Sui Ran preemptively did a couple of reps.
“Like this, right?”
His form was precise—clearly, he’d practiced ahead of time. Dada didn’t find anything to critique, so he just nodded and turned his attention to Fu Linxiao instead.
Qiao Jin stayed focused on his own routine, his eyes fixed straight ahead. A light sheen of sweat clung to his temple, making him look flushed from the exertion.
But he didn’t wipe it away—just let the beads of sweat trail down.
“Mind if I call you Xiao Qiao Jin?” Sui Ran matched his pace and asked casually. “Feels more familiar that way.”
“Sure.” Qiao Jin had long trained himself not to hold his breath while lifting, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly at the question, a faint smile threatening to appear.
Sui Ran was about to fish for another topic when Qiao Jin unexpectedly spoke first.
“By the way, about that book… I don’t think I can give it to you after all. Sorry.”
Sui Ran paused.
“Would it be okay if I ask why?”
If it hadn’t been for that offhand “wanna feel” comment earlier, their conversation probably would’ve been going better right now. Qiao Jin naturally gravitated toward people who were polite and humble.
“That book wasn’t my purchase—I was just the lucky one who got to benefit from it,” Qiao Jin said tactfully. “We talked it over and decided to keep it as a memento.”
When he said “we”, his tone softened noticeably. It was like the distance in his eyes blurred, almost disappeared. Even the sharp edge of his gaze dulled a little.
Sui Ran wanted to know who that “we” included, but he’d already asked enough questions today—too many to still come off as a gentleman.
After a brief silence, he accepted it with grace.
“Got it. Thanks anyway.”
About ten minutes later, Qiao Jin’s phone rang.
He glanced at the screen, immediately stood up, wiped the sweat from his brow, and reached for the phone.
“Hello?”
Even to someone like Sui Ran—practically a stranger—the trace of anticipation in that single word was unmistakable.
On the other end, Lu Pingzhang seemed taken aback by the rare hint of emotion in Qiao Jin’s voice. He paused for a few seconds before finally asking,
“Where are you?”
“At the gym,” Qiao Jin answered quickly.
“Have you eaten yet?” Lu Pingzhang asked.
Qiao Jin hesitated—worried that if he said yes, the man wouldn’t come home.
“Not yet.”
“I’ve got a meeting. I’ll be home around nine,” Lu Pingzhang said. Then he paused, adding, “Were you planning to cook? Will there be enough time? I have a flight at ten-thirty, so I’ll need to leave soon after eating.”
Qiao Jin held the phone slightly away and checked the time.
“Yeah, there’s time.”
Lu Pingzhang’s voice gentled.
“I’m heading into my meeting. Don’t wait on me to eat—go ahead and have some first if you’re hungry. Don’t starve yourself.”
Qiao Jin wasn’t hungry at all, but he still agreed obediently, “Okay. It’s fine if you’re late—just be safe.”
Whatever was said on the other end, Qiao Jin was already heading toward the locker room.
A minute later—or maybe not even a full minute—he came out changed. His face was calm and composed as usual, but his hurried steps gave away his impatience.
Sui Ran and Fu Linxiao both looked at him. Qiao Jin said,
“Something came up. I’m heading home. You guys keep training.”
“It’s Lu Pingzhang?” Fu Linxiao asked quietly.
Qiao Jin nodded. “He said he’s coming home tonight. If he does, we’re having dinner together.”
Even though he’d already eaten.
Fu Linxiao clicked his tongue in amusement.
Qiao Jin raised a fist for a quick bump with him, gave Sui Ran a polite nod, and turned to leave—clean and decisive.
Sui Ran had deliberately kept his distance from their conversation, not wanting to intrude. But once Qiao Jin was gone, he couldn’t help asking,
“He really doesn’t have a partner?”
At this point, he no longer felt the need to keep up the polished, gentlemanly act. Even his posture had relaxed.
“Because that looked exactly like a guy rushing off to pick up his girlfriend from work.”
Fu Linxiao let out a long sigh.
“Not interested.”
“What, I’m not interesting?” Sui Ran looked at him. “If I wasn’t, would I be skipping the bars, karaoke, basketball, massages—driving an hour across the city just to work out?”
“All of those sound very interesting,” Fu Linxiao shot back, meeting his eyes.
They stared each other down for a few seconds, then stood up at the same time and headed for the locker room.
“Let’s bounce.”
On the way home, Qiao Jin kept checking the time.
He’d bought shrimp and pork ribs—both already cleaned and prepped by the butcher. All he needed to do was get home and cook them.
Lu Pingzhang wouldn’t be home for another hour. Technically, that was more than enough time. Still, Qiao Jin felt anxious. He wanted to apologize to Lu Pingzhang properly—face to face.
As soon as he got home, he didn’t even bother changing out of his clothes. He tore off his coat, washed his hands, and headed straight into the kitchen. He fried the shrimp, put the ribs on to stew, then finally took off his apron and stepped into the shower.
He’d come straight from the gym, still covered in sweat. The cold winter air had clung to him like ice.
After the shower, there were still thirty minutes until nine. He was worried that if he finished cooking too early, the food would get cold and lose its flavor. So he turned off the stove and settled onto the couch to read.
Twenty minutes passed. He closed the book and went back into the kitchen, carefully scooping out the ribs. He heated oil in the pan and followed the steps he remembered—recreating the dish from memory.
Once the food was plated, he went to the wine rack and picked out a bottle of red, setting it on the dining table with two glasses.
It was exactly 9:00 p.m.
Qiao Jin let out a breath of relief. After a moment’s hesitation, he darted back into the bathroom for a quick rinse—to wash off the scent of cooking oil.
9:30 p.m. came and went. Lu Pingzhang was now thirty minutes late.
Qiao Jin picked up his phone, then put it down. He sat back on the couch and resumed reading.
At 10:00 p.m., he turned on the TV—but left the volume muted.
He didn’t need the noise to feel less alone. He liked solitude. He liked having the space to himself.
Lu Pingzhang’s delay didn’t make him feel lonely—just quietly unsettled.
Some motion on the screen helped keep him from dozing off.
At 10:30 p.m.—the exact time of Lu Pingzhang’s scheduled departure—Qiao Jin finally picked up his phone and sent a message:
“Still busy?”
There was no reply. If everything had gone as planned, Lu Pingzhang should already be on the plane by now.
Qiao Jin reheated the dishes on the table, then sat down and took a few bites by himself.
In the quiet room, the muted film continued to play. The night grew darker, until the only sound left was the faint noise of chewing.
He didn’t have much of an appetite. After two bites, he put the rest into the fridge, turned off the TV, brushed his teeth, and went to bed alone.
He didn’t see Lu Pingzhang’s message until the next morning.
The tone made it obvious it was typed up by Secretary Yin:
“Meeting ran long. Got on the flight right after. Just landed.”
The timestamp read 11:08 p.m.
By then, Qiao Jin had already fallen asleep.
Lu Pingzhang must’ve guessed as much—there was no further explanation, no extra message.
Qiao Jin thought for a moment, then replied:
“Got it.”
As soon as he set his phone down, a call came in—from Lu Pingzhang.
“You’re up?” Lu Pingzhang asked.
Qiao Jin gave a soft “Mm.” He wasn’t much of a talker in the mornings.
There was some background noise—wherever Lu Pingzhang was, it wasn’t quiet. His voice, however, was steady as ever.
“Didn’t make it back last night. Meeting ended after ten. Figured you’d be asleep, so I didn’t call.”
“Mm,” Qiao Jin answered again.
Something about his tone made Lu Pingzhang tread more carefully, though he cleared his throat like he was brushing off the hesitation. His voice stayed flat and calm.
“You texted me at 10:30. Sounds like you were up pretty late.”
“A little,” Qiao Jin said.
Lu Pingzhang picked up on the faint hint of reproach in that answer.
“You were waiting for me?”
Qiao Jin paused. He didn’t want Lu Pingzhang to think he had nothing better to do than sit around like some pampered pet, waiting for its owner to come home.
That would be too clingy.
Lu Pingzhang had said it before—if he ever came home late or had a last-minute change of plans, Qiao Jin shouldn’t wait. Just eat when he’s hungry. Sleep when he’s tired.
So Qiao Jin said,
“I didn’t wait. I ate.”
“Good boy,” Lu Pingzhang said with a soft laugh. “Didn’t sleep that late either. I messaged you around 11, and you didn’t reply. You must’ve really been out.”
“Mm.”
“Another ‘mm.’ You’re still in bed?”
“About to get up and wash.”
“No rush. It’s fine if you’re late,” Lu Pingzhang said. “When I’m back, I’ll have dinner with you.”
Qiao Jin stayed silent.
Lu Pingzhang waited. This time, not even a “mm.”
He said,
“No need to make it up to me. We don’t need to do that with each other. If there’s anything you’re craving, I’ll bring it home.”
Qiao Jin felt a shift in his chest, and naturally replied, “When you have time, cook for me yourself.”
Honestly, Lu Pingzhang was so busy he took video calls while on the road. Even if he weren’t that busy, he was hardly the type to step into a kitchen—much less in the mood for it.
But this time, Lu just gave a soft laugh and said, “Alright.”
