Chapter 36

 When picking him up at the airport, Xia Xiqing clearly sensed Zhou Ziheng’s soaring popularity. Originally, his extremely high national popularity was already a powerful weapon in the entertainment industry, but now, with the added boost of reality shows and CP popularity, his popularity has almost leaped to the top of the entertainment industry’s 20-something male actors.

　 Xiao Luo and several bodyguards surrounded Zhou Ziheng, stretching out their arms to form a human wall to block the fans, keeping Zhou Ziheng, who was taller than them, inside.

　 If it were just Zhou Ziheng, the situation would be easier to control, but the other half of the CP, Xia Xiqing, was also there, along with Shang Siyi, the top-ranked member of a male group. Together, these three had doubled the number of fans. Shang Siyi, however, was a gentleman, always having his bodyguards protect Ruan Xiao while he followed behind her.

　 Xia Xiqing was walking behind Zhou Ziheng when a fan suddenly grabbed his sleeve, pulling on his loose white knit sweater and exposing half of his shoulder. The screams in his ears made Xia Xiqing dizzy, and he reached out to pull the fabric off his shoulder.

　 “Don’t pull Xiqing’s clothes!”

“Xiqing, Xiqing’s clothes!”

“Who’s pulling there? Let go!”

Xia Xiqing couldn’t help but frown. Being a celebrity really wasn’t something ordinary people could do. Under normal circumstances, he would have lost his temper long ago, but now he could only endure it.

　 Turning around, he couldn’t see who was pulling his clothes. There were simply too many people. Xia Xiqing frowned, gripping his collar, and spoke helplessly, “Don’t get excited. You’ll tear the clothes.”

　 The scene was chaotic for a moment. Zhou Ziheng, who was walking in front, suddenly stopped, turned around, and grabbed the girl’s wrist. “Let go.”

The girl who was clinging tightly to Xia Xiqing looked up. Zhou Ziheng stared down at her expressionlessly. She was suddenly intimidated by his aura and let go of his hand in a daze.

　 “Don’t do that again. It’s dangerous.” Zhou Ziheng turned his head, casually adjusting his torn clothes, then wrapped his arm around Xia Xiqing’s shoulder and pulled him to his side, using his own body to separate Xia Xiqing from the fans.

　 They moved forward with difficulty as the fans grew increasingly excited. A few bodyguards, annoyed by the fans’ persistence, reached out to push them away, but Zhou Ziheng stopped them. “Don’t push them.”

　 His tone was stern. “It’s dangerous; a stampede could happen.” He raised his voice, as if addressing everyone, “Everyone, stop pushing. You’ll see him again later. Watch your step and be careful.”

　 Xia Xiqing, who had been feeling annoyed, couldn’t help but laugh. This man truly radiated the noble aura of a sage at all times.

For an ordinary celebrity, they would have already cursed him in their hearts hundreds of times by now.

　 He tilted his head, looking at the slender hand gripping his shoulder. He suddenly envied Zhou Ziheng—no, it was more jealousy than envy. Because no matter what happened, he could always face it with the brightest attitude.

A natural-born optimist.

　 Even though Zhou Ziheng had repeatedly tempted and pressured him, he would still extend a helping hand out of moral duty, trying to protect him, just as he would protect anyone in need, even if he was so despicable.

Xia Xiqing hated such people, hated those who lived like light, whose existence made him feel even more despicable.

　 The production team’s vehicle took them to the recording location for this episode. Time was tight, so dinner had to be hurriedly eaten during the makeup process. Zhou Ziheng, Xia Xiqing, and Shang Sirui shared a large makeup room. Just as they had finished changing clothes, Xiao Luo and Shang Sirui’s assistant entered with food.

　 “Xiqing,” Xiao Luo called out to Xia Xiqing specifically, “You should eat some too. This place is quite famous locally; it should suit your taste.”

Xia Xiqing smiled in response but didn’t hold out much hope. Whether it was the previous hot pot dinner with everyone or the meal with Zhou Ziheng at the P University canteen, Zhou Ziheng’s taste had always been light, barely touching the chili peppers.

But when he walked over to the sofa and saw Xiao Luo opening the packaging one by one, he noticed that half of the dishes were bright red, including spicy chicken and mao xue wang. The other half were some light dishes, clearly suited to Zhou Ziheng’s taste.

“These are all dishes that Ziheng ordered himself,” Xiao Luo covered her mouth with her hand and whispered to Xia Xiqing as if she were tattling, “I didn’t order them. If you don’t like them, blame Ziheng, haha.”

　 Zhou Ziheng, who had just changed into his outfit, walked in through the door. Unlike his previous casual attire, the outfit arranged by the production team looked much simpler—a dark blue long-sleeve hoodie paired with light blue jeans. Strangely, this outfit bore an uncanny resemblance to Xia Xiqing’s.

　 Xia Xiqing looked down at himself. He was also wearing a dark blue top and light blue jeans, though the style was slightly different.

The production team was trying to promote a couple, but they didn’t have to make the outfits so similar. Xia Xiqing smiled helplessly. He could almost imagine the frenzy of the couple’s fans online when the behind-the-scenes footage was released.

　 “Zi Heng, you’re back. Hey, your clothes look just like Xiqing’s.” Xiao Luo scratched the back of his head, “Could it be that the production team deliberately made them matching outfits?”

Zhou Zi Heng’s expression immediately became unnatural. He lowered his head and kicked Xiao Luo with his long leg, “What matching outfits… Shut up.”

　 Xia Xiqing chuckled and plopped down on the sofa. “Did you order all this?”

“Who ordered it?” Zhou Ziheng sat down too, looking innocent as he pointed at Xiao Luo. “You ordered it, right? You ordered so much spicy stuff, you must want to kill me with spice.”

　 Xiao Luo and Xia Xiqing exchanged glances, both of them almost unable to hold back their laughter.

Zhou Ziheng scratched his unstyled hair, looking like a big boy, cleared his throat, and awkwardly said, “Well, this is too spicy for me to eat. You eat it, I’ll just have this.”

　 “Oh, I see…” Xia Xiqing looked at him with a half-smile, his tone once again light and airy.

Zhou Ziheng was afraid of him speaking like this, but he was also a little happy, feeling that Xia Xiqing had returned to his old self. The Xia Xiqing who had fallen asleep on the plane felt unfamiliar to him, yet it also made him feel a pang of sorrow.

　 He nodded silently, took a pair of chopsticks from the packaging, and opened them. “You’re getting off easy.”

“Thanks.” Xia Xiqing took the chopsticks from his hand without hesitation. “These are all my favorites. What a coincidence!”

　 Hearing this, Zhou Ziheng felt a little happy, but to maintain his poor lie, he could only remain silent, lowering his head to eat his own portion of food. Just then, Shang Sui also arrived, humming a song. Xia Xiqing glanced at him, “So happy, huh?”

“Our main song for this comeback—how about it, is it good?”

　 The male assistant beside him sighed and shook his head, “Enough with you, you song-leaking maniac.”

Shang Sui didn’t care. He hopped over to the sofa and said, “It smells so good. Hey, your clothes look alike.” He tugged at his dark red coat and walked over to sit next to Xia Xiqing, “Red and blue have always been a perfect match!” After saying that, he rested his chin on Xia Xiqing’s shoulder, “I want to eat too. I want to eat spicy chicken.”

　 “Alright.” Xia Xiqing picked up a piece of chicken and held it to Shang Sirui’s mouth, “Open your mouth.”

　 He ate a few mouthfuls of rice in silence, not even bothering to lift his chopsticks. His chest felt like it had a lemon stuffed inside, being repeatedly squeezed by an invisible hand, releasing a sour, bitter juice.

He hadn’t eaten much at all when Zhou Ziheng got up to do his hair. Shang Sirui was a bit surprised, “Ziheng, you only ate that little?”

“I might have an audition next week, so I’ve been managing my weight.”

Half-true, half-false, but not entirely a lie, Zhou Ziheng comforted himself.

Shang Sirui’s assistant opened the fried chicken he had ordered and placed it in front of him. Shang Siru stuffed a large piece of fried chicken into his mouth and mumbled, “It’s probably another one of those depressing movies. When are you going to take on a TV series? I’ll play a supporting role for you.”

Zhou Ziheng, who had started getting ready, sat in front of the mirror with his eyes closed and said, “Wait until I get a role in a pet-themed show.”

　 Shang Siru could only channel his frustration into appetite, forcing himself to eat the fried chicken despite his urge to punch Zhou Ziheng.

　 Xia Xiqing noticed at that moment that Ruan Xiao was wearing the same color as Shang Sirui—a red denim jacket paired with black jeans.

　 Could it be that this episode has a tendency toward grouping? The aftermath of the previous episode made him unconsciously focus on the outfits the production team had arranged for everyone. Zhou Ziheng’s outfit was almost identical to his own, while Shang Siru and Ruan Xiao’s outfits were also very similar.

However, the production team wouldn’t make it this obvious if there were indeed any grouping.

　 If the screenwriter hasn’t changed, following the pattern from last time, we’ll only find out the true plot once we enter the secret room.

Lost in thought, Xia Xiqing looked up and saw Zhou Ziheng staring at him, his eyes seeming to hold a hint of concern. Before he could figure out why Zhou Ziheng was wearing that expression, his eyes were covered by a black-clad figure.

　 Damn it. He almost forgot about that.

In the darkness, his arms were grabbed by someone, guiding him step by step forward. Suddenly, they stopped and signaled for him to sit down.

Sitting on the chair, Xia Xiqing heard the footsteps growing farther and farther away. The temporary darkness inevitably caused him physical discomfort. Fortunately, it didn’t last long. Just as he sat down, he heard the familiar voice of the program host.

“Hello everyone, welcome back to ‘Escape to Heaven.’ First, please remove your blindfolds.”

Could he remove the blindfold directly this time? It was so easy that Xia Xiqing felt a little unaccustomed to it.

　 Regardless, wearing it was simply too uncomfortable, so Xia Xiqing removed the blindfold without hesitation. The escape room finally came into view before him. This time, the room looked like an ordinary bedroom, with dark blue wallpaper, gray bedding, and some game figurines—it seemed like a boy’s bedroom.

　 The biggest difference from last time was that this bedroom truly only had Xia Xiqing alone. For some reason, he felt a bit empty inside. Probably just not used to it yet.

　 “First, I need to go over the rules for this game. Players, please note that you are each trapped in different rooms. To win, you must first escape from your own room, collect clues to the outer door’s password along the way, and unlock the final door. Of course, like last time, there is a killer among you who has the right to kill any of you. If the killer emerges as the ultimate winner, all players’ scores will be reset to zero. The smartphones in your hands can be used to anonymously vote for the killer you suspect. Those eliminated will no longer be able to continue the game.”

　 “Note that each of your rooms has a radio. Even when you’re stuck in your room, you can use the radio to communicate with people in other rooms.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”  

“The game begins.”

A radio? Xia Xiqing stood up and, following his usual habit, walked around the room as directed by the program crew’s cameras. The room wasn’t very large, but it was filled to the brim with furnishings: a bed that looked reasonably comfortable, a wardrobe packed to the brim, a small square rug on the floor, and a tiny table on the rug, with the radio the production team had mentioned placed on it.

　 The overall layout looked very lived-in, as if it were a bedroom that someone had actually lived in. The chair he had been sitting on was in front of the desk, which was next to the bedhead. On the desk was a laptop, a few stacked books, and a desk lamp with a lampshade that was not turned on.

　 There was something odd about the room: many of the items were placed in specific spots, such as the cup on the desk, which had a shallow indentation where it sat, as if carved into the wooden surface. Xia Xiqing picked up the cup, felt the indentation, and tapped it with his fingers.

It sounded hollow.

　 Not just the cup—many items in this room were placed within specific circles. Xia Xiqing found this odd, but the evidence at hand couldn’t provide a reasonable explanation.

　 “Right, the radio…” Remembering that he was recording the program, Xia Xiqing deliberately began to “talk to himself.” He walked over to the square rug. The shadow that had been cast earlier made him lift the rug, but there was nothing underneath. However, like the cup, there was a circle of indentations the same size as the rug.

　 He tried to turn on the radio, but all that came out was static. This thing was simply too old for him. The small radio had three knobs: one blue and two red. The red knobs were slightly different—one had a number 0 marked below it, while the other had nothing.

Blue?

　 He recalled the garment worn by Zhou Ziheng and surmised that this knob was likely similar, so he attempted to turn it, only to find that it still emitted static. Whether he turned it from the far left to the far right or back again, there was no sound.

　 Xia Xiqing was well aware of the program team’s eccentricity and knew that there was no such thing as an easy solution. He simply left the radio there, not turning it off, and the faint static became the background noise as he searched for other clues.

He returned to his desk, opened one of the books, and unexpectedly found a bookmark inside.

　 To be precise, it was a butterfly specimen.

Xia Xiqing picked up the butterfly preserved in the transparent specimen slide, studied it carefully, and recalled his elementary school days.

In science class, the teacher had asked everyone to go home with their parents and catch an insect, then bring it back to class the following week to observe with their classmates.

　 He didn’t like insects with hard shells that hid in soil and fallen leaves; he preferred butterflies with beautiful wings.

However, no one was willing to accompany him.

“Butterflies can fly. Do you think it’s that easy to catch them?”

　 “I don’t have the time to accompany you on an insect hunt; I have work to do.”

　 But Xia Xiqing had always been stubborn. On the afternoon he was refused by his parents, he sulked his way to the garden.

By chance, he caught a glimpse of a butterfly with blue patterns, fluttering its wings lightly, occasionally landing on the roses at the back of the yard.

　 His little heart skipped a beat.

To catch it, third-grade Xia Xiqing spent the entire night making tools, then sat on the steps with his small net, staying there for the entire afternoon.

　 In the end, after persevering, he sprained his ankle, scratched his calf and arms on the roses, and limped excitedly while holding the net, finally trapping the beautiful butterfly in a delicate little cage.

　 With four days left until the next science class, Xia Xiqing’s first task each morning was to check on his little butterfly, give it water, place fresh roses in its cage, and gaze intently at it as it fluttered its beautiful wings.

Immersed in this fascination each day, he even forgot the pain he had endured to obtain it.

　 Finally, the day came when he could bring the little butterfly to class and introduce it to everyone. Xia Xiqing stood on a stool, searching everywhere, and after a long time, he found a piece of blue velvet that matched his little butterfly. He carefully draped the velvet over the cage and took it to the classroom.

　 Some brought ladybugs, others brought beetles, and some brought golden beetles, but none could compare to his little butterfly.

“Look at mine,” he said proudly, lifting the velvet.

　 Contrary to expectations, the blue butterfly that should have been gracefully dancing lay silently in the cage, motionless. No matter how much Xia Xiqing cried or shook the cage with his scratched hands, it never flew again, fluttering its beautiful wings toward him.

If only I hadn’t caught that butterfly.

　 If I hadn’t seen him in the rosebush that afternoon, if I hadn’t tried to keep him by my side, if I hadn’t tried to possess him at all costs.

I wouldn’t have lost him.

“Xia Xiqing.”

“Xiqing.”

　 His thoughts suddenly snapped out of the memory, and Xia Xiqing stared blankly at the butterfly specimen in his hand before turning around.

The radio, which had been emitting only static, suddenly spoke.

“Can you hear me? It’s Zhou Ziheng.”