Sitting in the bathtub, Fang Juexia hesitated—should he tell Pei Tingsong, who was still downstairs, about this news first, or sneak a peek at his secret account himself?
Since Ling Yi had followed it, there probably wasn’t anything in the secret account he couldn’t see.
The group chat continued, and Lu Yuan and Jiang Miao seemed to have noticed the conversation too.
[Sexy Round Teacher Online: Holy crap, thank goodness I double-blocked Ling Yi the day before yesterday when he stole my spicy sticks! I was so wise—call me the prophet! Little Pei probably never dreamed the slip-up came from Ling Yi, hahaha! We’re both screwing each other over, two peas in a pod.]
[WaterWaterWater: YiYi, honestly, if you hadn’t unfollowed him, no one would’ve known that was Xiao Pei’s alt account.]
[DashOriginalAccount: I just panicked and forgot, waaah.]
[Sexy Round Teacher Online: I bought you a Japanese samurai sword on Taobao. You’re welcome.]
[Dash Account: I won’t even have time for seppuku. When I die, don’t miss me. Waaah, I just got him to follow me back last week… because I heard he has more fans than me.]
[Your Fire Bro: Only clothes sellers follow my alt account. Is that why you won’t follow me back?? We’re done, Lingyi.]
[Dash Account: No, Fire Bro! That’s not me at all! You guys gotta stop Xiao Pei, or our group’ll be all over the tabloids.]
[Shui Shui Shui: Why isn’t the youngest saying anything? Could he already be driving over to find you?]
[Dash Account: [tears streaming·jpg][tears streaming·jpg][tears streaming·jpg]]
Fang Juexia couldn’t stop laughing in the bathtub, but he still deliberately searched for Ling Yi’s secondary account. Sure enough, he found a Weibo post by a fan attached with a screenshot—it was the blogger Ling Yi had unfollowed. Following this lead, Fang Juexia finally tracked down Pei Tingsong’s secondary account.
“This ID…”
[Yinde Laixi’s Moon]
It felt strangely mystical. Fang Juexia knew this was beyond his understanding, yet just seeing the character “月” (moon) at the end stirred an odd flutter in his heart.
Being with someone who loved wordplay made every day feel like deciphering secret codes.
Pei Tingsong’s bio was even more intriguing—a book blogger without a marketing agency.
Reading this, Fang Juexia couldn’t help but laugh. He could guess what had happened to Pei Tingsong’s secondary account. The account actually had hundreds of followers. Fang Juexia selected the very first post in its history—and it was a video of their group performing “The Moon Over the Sea.”
Reading this, Fang Juexia couldn’t help but chuckle. He could probably guess what had happened to Pei Tingsong’s secondary account. Surprisingly, this account still had several hundred followers. Fang selected the very first post in history—it was from when their group had just debuted. Scrolling further back, most of the earlier content was in English: book excerpts and some of his own writings. The volume wasn’t large, with posts appearing roughly two or three times a week.
[@Yinde Laixi’s Moon: The image of humanity’s fragility evokes fantasies of immortality, while the solid beauty of the Golden Pavilion reveals the possibility of destruction. — Yukio Mishima
#Only_beautiful_things_inspire_a_desire_to_destroy]
[@隱德來希之月: Fundamentally, aesthetic phenomena are simple; whoever possesses the ability to continuously witness a living game, perpetually surrounded by spirits, is a poet; whoever feels the impulse to transform themselves and speak through another’s body and mind is a dramatist. — Nietzsche]
These excerpted lines and the #afterthoughts that followed felt particularly authentic to Fang Juexia. This was indeed Pei Tingsong—just like how he would underline passages while reading, adding his own little annotations, earnestly to the point of being endearing.
[@Yinde Laixi Zhi Yue: I’m changing the bio to “No entry for those who don’t understand geometry.”]
Surprisingly, someone commented below.
[@FlyingLittleWings: Why can’t those who don’t understand geometry enter?]
To his surprise, Pei Tingsong actually replied.
[@HiddenVirtueHopesMoon replies to @FlyingLittleWings: It’s a phrase Plato inscribed on the gates of his academy. Just playing with a reference.]
This was Pei Tingsong before he’d broken the ice with Fang Juexia. Back then, they hadn’t even exchanged a single word. But looking at these now, Fang Juexia’s heart was filled with affection. He didn’t know exactly what he liked about him, but even seeing just one of his replies made it feel like this person had come vividly to life before him.
Early snippets of book excerpts seemed to garner him a small following, with fans even commenting below. But Pei Tingsong was a child with a strong urge to express himself, so gradually he began voicing his own opinions—especially when social news broke.
[@Yinde Laixi’s Moon: Constructing a “person” based on non-human logic to oppose gender—such an entity deserves neither to be called a man nor a woman. For it, gender opposition is merely a means to urgently choose sides and infiltrate a camp.
#Human affairs need no interference from other species]
[@Sophy: Are you male? No offense intended—just genuinely curious. From earlier posts, I assumed you were a boy, but it seems rare for boys to voice opinions from this perspective.]
[@Yinde Laixi Zhi Yue replies to @Sophy: I am human.]
Reading this, Fang Juexia burst out laughing. He’d never cared about anyone’s social media accounts, yet here he was, engrossed in someone else’s Weibo posts—so absorbed he hadn’t even noticed the bathwater had gone cold.
[@Yinde Laixi Zhi Yue: I’ve actually gotten several DMs asking me to sign with agencies as a book marketing influencer. Sorry, I’m not short on cash. And I’m changing my bio: a book blogger without a marketing agency. [Image][Image]]
So this was the time. Fang Juexia glanced at the date—it was the summer after their debut, a year later, when work was scarce. Back then, Pei Tingsong should have been…
He couldn’t even recall what Pei Tingsong had been doing at that time.
A pang of ache surfaced in his heart. Fang Juexia unconsciously pressed his lips together and scrolled up.
[@Yinde Laixi Zhi Yue: Symbolization was originally a great invention of logic, yet today it’s indiscriminately generalized by thoughtless people everywhere, severing channels for deep contemplation.
People habitually use narrow experiences to make empiricist judgments, assuming philosophers must be reserved and reclusive, while engineers are unkempt and socially inept. In truth, philosophers can be aristocrats, exiles, teachers, sex worshippers, madmen, homosexuals, women—anyone.
People can inherently be anyone.]
[@Yinde Laixi Zhi Yue: Happiness can sometimes ennoble human nature. More often, suffering only breeds narrow-mindedness and a desire for revenge. — Somerset Maugham
#After being hounded by a fool, silently reciting this line works wonders
#I am happy, I am noble, you are miserable, you are unworthy]
Reading this, Fang Juexia couldn’t help but smile again.
Despite Pei Tingsong’s brilliant intellect and quick wit, he stubbornly clung to a childish, mischievous spirit.
He was truly adorable.
Scrolling further, he found more of his complaints about studying.
[@Yinde Laixi Zhi Yue: I’d rather read a hundred books than one literature review…]
[@Yinde Laixi Zhi Yue: I must be the most studious international student in the class.]
Exactly.
[@Yinde Laixi Zhi Yue: In this day and age, those who cringe at the mention of sex are either old fogies or sexually dysfunctional. The former are hard to change, the latter even harder (let’s hope for medical solutions).]
That’s so typical of Pei Tingsong. Fang Juexia thought it was exactly his style, yet worried that if it surfaced, haters might twist it into something negative.
But then he realized—when has Pei Tingsong ever given haters the time of day?
Scrolling casually, he stumbled upon several Weibo posts that seemed tailor-made for him.
[@Yinde Laixi’s Moon: I just don’t get people who never express themselves. Do they think bearing insults is some kind of virtue? Or do they simply not care about this world? People who are so calm they’re indifferent are definitely my least favorite type.]
Fang Juexia heard an arrow pierce his heart.
So he hadn’t lied after all. The dislike wasn’t about the scandals or public opinion, but his indifferent attitude.
[@Yinde Laixi’s Moon: The best thing about hating someone is when they have a face you hate. It makes hating them effortless. The other two scenarios just leave you feeling awkward.]
Was that supposed to be a compliment on his looks?
[@Yinde Laixi’s Moon: The ancient Greeks’ obsession with beautiful youths really…
#fine, who doesn’t love a gorgeous body? It’d just be better if it came with a passionate soul too.
#LateNightRamblings]
Passion. Fang Juexia rolled his eyes, recalling his icy demeanor toward him back then. The word “passion” probably couldn’t be more distant from him.
[@Yinde Laixi Zhi Yue: I actually finished watching a math documentary! And I see passion!]
Was it the Fermat’s Last Theorem documentary he recommended?
Watching Pei Tingsong’s gradual shift from slight dislike, Fang Juexia felt a strange and wonderful mix of emotions.
Continuing to scroll, he suddenly came across a specific date. Fang Juexia had a knack for remembering dates and numbers, so he quickly recalled it was the day they attended their senior’s concert as guests—the very night he got drunk at the hotel and bit Pei Tingsong.
Three in the morning.
Fang Juexia wondered if he’d already fallen asleep in Pei Tingsong’s arms by then. But Pei Tingsong hadn’t slept. He’d posted a photo of a book excerpt—a letter by Voltaire that read:
[I long to see you and speak with you. Whether you consider yourself a masterpiece created by God or merely an inevitable product, a particle of undeniable matter drawn from eternity—whatever you are, you are a precious part of a world unknown to me.]
Reading these words, Fang Juexia suddenly felt a stinging ache in his eyes. Back then, he had confessed his night blindness to Pei Tingsong, explaining that the birthmark was a mislabeling. But Pei Tingsong had dismissed it outright, declaring it beautiful.
At the time, he had even thought it was merely a moment of sympathy overflowing from Pei Tingsong, offered as comfort. But reading these words, he finally understood. Pei Tingsong had been sincere back then. Even though he didn’t understand Fang Juexia’s inner world, he regarded him as an incredibly precious part of it.
Later, as they grew busier, Pei Tingsong’s Weibo updates dwindled significantly. Sometimes weeks would pass without a single post.
[@Yinde Laixi’s Moon: How did I never notice before? Flowers are such a beautiful metaphor.]
Several comments below echoed sentiments like “Your style has changed so much,” but Pei Tingsong didn’t reply to any of them.
Then came the day of their return.
[@Yinde Laixi Zhi Yue: All poets become poets through the inspiration of Eros. Even the most uninitiated in verse, once seized by Eros, instantly becomes a poet. — Symposium
#AgathonYoureRight]
So that’s why you’re so good at writing poetry? You really can find quotes from ancient sages to back up any viewpoint you want.
[@Yinde Laixi’s Moon: !! I’m the happiest person on this planet today!! Even if I lost an arm!!!]
Heavens.
This was when he agreed to date him.
Where did he find the time to sneakily post on Weibo?
[@Yinde Laixi Zhi Yue: I’ve become a useless pastry who’s lost his way through indulgence. I’m sorry, Mr. Lermontov, I still couldn’t follow your teachings.]
Too adorable. Fang Juexia couldn’t even remember how many times she’d sighed inwardly.
Seeing the comments, he couldn’t resist clicking through.
[@3diny: Huh? Why did you change your name? Wasn’t it Yinde Laixi before? Now it’s Yinde Laixi Zhi Yue?]
So it wasn’t originally called that.
Unfortunately, Pei Tingsong hadn’t replied either.
[@Yinde Laishi Zhi Yue: Kiss = Killing me so softly.]
This line suddenly captured Fang Juexia’s heart.
“Hey, Fang Juexia, you didn’t fall asleep in there, did you?”
Pei Tingsong pushed open the door, startling Fang Juexia so badly he dropped his phone into the bathtub. He scrambled to retrieve it, then turned to face Pei Tingsong with the wet phone in hand, looking utterly aggrieved. Before he could control himself, a whimper escaped his lips, sounding like a small animal’s cry.
“What’s wrong with you? Are you three years old?” Pei Tingsong chuckled as he crouched down in front of him, snatching the phone from his hands and flicking it aside. “Good thing it’s waterproof.” “His hand dipped into the pool and felt the water had turned cold. Pei Tingsong’s expression immediately hardened. ”You’re freezing like this and still soaking? No more phone use during bath time next time.”
After scolding him, he looked at Fang Juexia. The boy was staring at him with a strange expression, trying to stifle a laugh, yet looking unusually well-behaved. “What’s wrong?” He gently pinched Fang Juexia’s nose. “Soaked your brain silly?”
The next second, Fang Juexia wrapped his pale arms around Pei Tingsong’s neck, kissed the tip of his ear, and whispered softly into his ear.
“Killing me so softly.”
Pei Tingsong didn’t register it at first, then suddenly tilted his head, nose to nose with Fang Juexia, eyes wide. “You… how did you…”
Fang Juexia tilted his head and kissed his lips, a rare hint of schadenfreude in his smile.
“You’ve been outed, Hidden Virtue.”
Pei Tingsong froze completely.
After a moment of stunned silence, his first reaction was disbelief. “Impossible. My alt account couldn’t have been exposed.” He looked at Fang Juexia. “What’s going on? How did you see it? Who exposed it? Some netizen?”
“Hmm…” Fang Juexia’s eyes drifted elsewhere. “To be precise, you were dragged into it.” He reached for his bathrobe, draping it over himself as he stepped out of the tub. “You can review the group chat to piece it together, but you have to promise me you won’t get angry.”
But that promise proved utterly useless.
Fang Juexia, seated at the dining table, was about to pick up his chopsticks when the poor utensils were sent flying by Pei Tingsong’s powerful punch on the table, clattering to the floor.
“He really is my teammate!”
“Doesn’t your hand hurt, hitting that hard?” Fang Juexia braced himself against the table to grab his wrist.
“Ling Yi…”
Pei Tingsong slammed his phone onto the table, practically fuming. “He insists on following me when I tell him not to, and then he unfollows me when he shouldn’t? Great. He was rubbing it in this afternoon, and now he’s been exposed tonight. Life sure has its ups and downs.”
“Oh well, it’s done now.” Fang Juexia walked around him, stroking his back like petting a dog. “Ling Yi knows he messed up. I bet Qiang Ge is yelling at him right now.”
“He deserves it. Going on a show and still logging into a fake account to spam Weibo.”
“Yeah, yeah, he deserves it.” Fang Juexia rubbed Pei Tingsong’s cheek, straddling his lap with his legs spread wide. “But you’re so adorable.”
Pei Tingsong had been furious moments ago, but Fang Juexia’s sweet compliment left him dazed and slightly embarrassed. “Wh-what? What the hell are you talking about?”
“I said you’re adorable.” “ Fang Juexia repeated earnestly. ”The stuff you write on your secret account is so interesting. Even if people found out, they’d just think, ‘Oh, so Pei Tingsong isn’t just a little firecracker—he’s actually got some real ideas. He’s so cute.’”
Fang Juexia turned his face back, asking with deliberate seriousness, “Why would only I think that?”
Why is he being so stubborn?
Fang Juexia pressed further, “Is it because I like you?”
That was way too direct. Pei Tingsong suddenly didn’t know how to respond. “You…”
“Logically, that makes sense, but no.” Fang Juexia pinched his cheek earnestly. “Even someone who doesn’t like you as much as I do would find you adorable seeing these.”
A barrage of direct questions came flying at him, like a pea shooter firing hearts nonstop. Pei Tingsong couldn’t defend against it and found himself losing his temper without even realizing it.
He was the cutest one here, wasn’t he?
“So how much do you like me?” Pei Tingsong asked, riding the momentum.
Fang Juexia pondered carefully. “Hmm… It’s like this: when I saw your Weibo saying you hated me, yet also saying you liked my looks, I didn’t get angry. Instead, I felt a little happy.”
Such frankness.
“That was ages ago,” Pei Tingsong’s first impulse was to apologize. “Looking back, it wasn’t even dislike—just awkwardness at most.”
“Your self-awareness is sharp, Mr. Pei,” Fang Juexia smiled at him. “I know that, so it didn’t bother me at all.”
“Thanks.” Pei Tingsong wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed his cheek again before remembering dinner. “Enough chatting. Eat your noodles before they get soggy.”
“So you’re not mad anymore?”
How could I ever be mad at you?
“Not mad.”
Smash Ling Yi to smithereens—it’s never too late.
Fang Juexia obediently returned to his seat to eat his noodles. No sooner had he sat down than he recalled Pei Tingsong’s remark about no one else feeling this way. But he disagreed, so he wanted to see what others would say once he dug it up.
“Where’s my phone?”
“Still thinking about playing with your phone?” Pei Tingsong replied to Cheng Qiang’s message. “I’ll dry it for you later.”
“Can I use yours then?” Fang Juexia gave him a wink.
Pei Tingsong was completely helpless.
“Then can you guarantee you’ll finish this bowl of noodles within ten minutes?”
Fang Juexia nodded rapidly twice.
“Here, here.” He pushed his phone over.
Satisfied with the phone in hand, Fang Juexia opened Weibo and carefully searched for related content. Sure enough, the comment on the post that exposed his ID already had thousands of replies.
[@SawasdeeKa: Honestly, if it weren’t for Ling Yi’s actions, I’d never suspect this account belonged to someone… I’d just assume it was some private book blogger.]
[@KakaKakaKaka: Who’d have thought one drop would bring two??? This group is seriously toxic, always showing their group spirit in the most unexpected places.]
[@BMA’s Best Group Fan: RIP Ling Yi, over.]
[@rapgodpts: He’s way more talented than I imagined, and his sharp tongue is hilarious. P.S. Some CP fans need to chill—when he broke his hand, “Break the Array” blew up. The lyricist deserves to celebrate his success without you forcing connections to your idol.]
Actually… there really is a connection. Fang Juexia silently replied to this friend in his heart.
[@Dash’s Little Sister Comma replies to @SawasdeeKa: nsdd, unfollowing this person is so epic, I’m starting to wonder if YiYi has a grudge against Grape lololol, or if he’s trying to tell us “This is our youngest’s alt account!”]
[@GrapeEaterNoSpit: True story—main account is a chaotic mess, alt account is pure bliss. But this snarky kid is absolutely killer! So sharp-tongued yet so morally upright—totally my type!]
[@EternalDaydreamRider: Seriously, Grape hasn’t admitted it yet, right? Are you all so sure?]
[@Six Account Cancellation Cards replies to @Eternal Daydream Rider: Ling Yi nailed that one. This is 80% definitely him. Plus, these book excerpts and stuff are pretty PTS-like, and he mentions being an overseas student—it all lines up.]
[@Deaf Fan: Has no one noticed? Besides the book excerpts and daily musings, there’s frequent mention of “him” here (Honestly, I’m kinda scared to dig deeper—I don’t think Grape would admit it).]
[@Eustoma Nightwalker replies to @Deaf Fan: Me too… I went deaf just reading this…]
What kind of description is that? Fang Juexia couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Mid-laugh, he glanced up to find Pei Tingsong glaring at him. He quickly took a bite of noodles, muttered “Delicious,” then continued reading.
[@Grapevine Scenery replies to @Night-Strolling Eustoma: Me too. Reading this made my ears buzz and my heart race. I might be sick.]
[@Kaledo’s Little Domino: With an ID like “Yue,” I really don’t want to think of it as “moonlight,” but I can’t help myself… So what is Yinde Laixi? Is it a person’s name?]
Reading this, Fang Juexia also grew curious. Eager for an answer, he obediently took a big bite, then looked up and asked with a mouthful, “Why did you choose the ID Yinde Laixi?”
Pei Tingsong stirred his chopsticks in the noodle bowl, hesitated for a few seconds, then answered.
“Yinde Laixi is a transliteration of the ancient Greek word ‘entelecheia,’ a philosophical term from Aristotle. Its original meaning is the fulfillment of a purpose or potential. In Aristotle’s understanding of biology, a crucial concept is ‘form’—unlike modern forms, this represents the essence of a thing.”
Realizing his explanation was complex, Pei Tingsong scratched his head. “Simply put, he believed the soul is the ‘form’ of a living being and named it entelecheia.”
Fang Juexia, a quick learner, chewed on the end of his chopstick, trying to grasp the complex idea. “So, he was referring to the soul as ‘Hidden Virtue’?”
“That’s how I’m using it—quite narrowly. But his meaning is incredibly rich.”
The soul…
“Then why did you start by calling it ‘Hidden Virtue’ and later add…”
Before he finished the question, Fang Juexia already sensed the answer. His inquiry now felt overly blunt, even tinged with an air of entitlement. He paused.
Yet to his surprise, Pei Tingsong took a bite of noodles, buried his head, and answered in a muffled tone.
“Isn’t it obvious enough?”
“Before, it was an empty soul. Later, it found a moon.”
