Gu Fei had always come across to Lin Hening as a tough guy—a no-nonsense, stone-faced military man.
So the first time he saw him blushing, wide-eyed and awkward, completely at a loss for words—it was just too vivid, too funny. Lin Hening couldn’t help but burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as she laughed for quite a while.
Gu Fei was clearly mortified. He took a gulp of plain water and said, “I’m really sorry.”
Lin Hening wanted to say it was fine—after all, his mom’s “passing” and the other kind of “passing” didn’t make much of a difference to him anymore.
But he and Gu Fei weren’t quite close enough yet to be swapping family stories over tea, so he held back.
He hadn’t expected Gu Fei to have a story of his own. Turned out, the “mom” he was rushing to pick up at the bus terminal that day was actually his adoptive mother.
She had trekked in from the suburbs through a heavy snowstorm on the winter solstice night, just to bring her son a bowl of handmade dumplings.
Clearly, this woman loved Gu Fei dearly. His childhood must’ve been filled with warmth.
Lin Hening was a private person, and he knew better than to pry into someone else’s life. Though, with how used he was to being a prosecutor, he almost “cross-examined” him out of habit.
After finishing the porridge, his stomach finally felt warm and at ease.
Lin Hening got into a cab with a bottle of antacids in hand. Halfway there, he got out, took off Gu Fei’s jacket, handed it back to him, and reminded him casually, “Put it on my tab. Cab fare too.”
Back home, Lin Hening took his meds and collapsed into bed.
Because his mom had been mentioned, he ended up dreaming about Ms. Wen Zhi.
In the dream, her face was blurry—which wasn’t surprising. It had been nearly twenty years since he’d last seen her. Other than a few fading photos struggling to hold up his crumbling memory, time had completely worn away his image of his mother.
Wen Zhi barely appeared in the dream. Then came Xia Zhile—his ex, who’d always been a bit of a handful—and he took up the rest of it.
Back then, they weren’t even dating yet. Xia Zhile liked him but didn’t have the guts to say it.
It was winter too. Heavy snow.
As a prosecutor’s assistant, Lin Hening was constantly on the move with his mentor. There were so many cases, he worked overtime every day, shuttling between the courthouse, the prosecutor’s office, and the detention center. He barely had time to breathe. After returning from a trip to another province, exhausted, starving, and freezing, he saw Xia Zhile waiting for him outside the gate. A colleague mentioned the guy had been showing up there every day, right on time, for over two weeks.
Lin Hening walked up to him, exasperated. “Didn’t I tell you to stop coming? I’m swamped. I don’t have time for this.”
Xia Zhile’s face and nose were bright red from the cold, but he just grinned like an idiot. “It’s fine. You do your thing, I’ll do mine. See? You’ve got time to talk to me now, don’t you?”
Then, with a look of mock secrecy, he pulled out a thermos from under his puffer jacket and told Lin Hening to drink up.
It was the first time Lin Hening tasted Xia Zhile’s soup. Honestly, it was mediocre—nothing close to what his refined palate was used to, having grown up on meals from top chefs around the world.
But somehow, he thought it tasted amazing. Warm. Comforting.
When he woke up, Lin Hening just stared at the ceiling.
—I’d make soup for him every day if he wanted. I just… like him.
Yeah, right.
His stomach lurched. He barely made it to the bathroom, dry-heaving for several minutes with nothing coming up.
His head throbbed.
First hangover—and definitely the last.
God, this is hell.
He checked his phone. Right at the top was a message from Gu Fei, sent the night before:
[Still owe 899,579.57 yuan]
Lin Hening replied with a sticker of a nodding head.
Then he walked out of the bedroom to scrounge for food in the kitchen.
His fridge was cleaner than his face—he always ate out and didn’t snack at home. Even the cockroaches had given up and moved out.
But now there were eggs, milk, cheese, butter, and the like.
He’d bought those to try baking a cheesecake.
Xia Zhile’s birthday was coming up. Lin Hening had been experimenting with cake recipes—he’d failed every time, but wasn’t discouraged. He even thought about asking Gu Fei for help.
He pulled the ingredients out and started eating.
That’s when he noticed a lunchbox sitting in the corner of the stove. For a moment, he froze, then quickly searched his memory—and it clicked.
It was from the time Gu Fei visited him in the hospital and brought breakfast. Lin Hening had taken the lunchbox home to wash it, planning to return it someday. But he’d completely forgotten until now.
He quickly snapped a photo of the lunchbox and sent it to Gu Fei, along with a voice message:
“Sorry I forgot to return this. I’ll bring it in a bit.”
Gu Fei replied almost instantly:
[What do you want for breakfast?]
[I’ve got wontons stuffed with pork and corn, and pan-fried buns with crayfish filling.]
Lin Hening typed:
[No appetite, but I’m so hungry I’m seeing stars. I’ll just eat whatever.]
Then he took a photo of his pitiful half-glass of milk on the table and sent it over.
His phone buzzed again—it was a reply from Gu Fei. But before Lin Hening could check it, a call came in. He answered.
Jian Xiaoxi’s chipper voice rang out, sounding way too energetic for this hour:
“Good morning, Prosecutor Lin! So, when’s the wedding banquet?”
Lin Hening blinked. “What?”
Jian Xiaoxi laughed slyly.
“Oh, don’t play dumb with me!”
There was the sound of fabric rustling—probably him crossing his legs in that fancy office chair of his.
Then it clicked for Lin Hening. He downed the last of his milk in one gulp, lips curling into a devilish smile.
“Soon. You’d better get your gift ready, Officer Jian. Nothing less than seven figures, or we’re done being friends.”
Jian Xiaoxi, voice full of dramatic sincerity, said,
“A million? That’s nothing! As long as my brother’s happy, I’ll throw in a Ferrari too.”
Before Lin Hening could even feel touched, Jian let out a cackling laugh:
“Oooh, Ferrari~”
A bad feeling crept over Lin Hening. “…”
Jian Xiaoxi slapped his thigh on the other end, clearly having too much fun.
“Man, I didn’t even realize until I started putting the pieces together—fate is something else! Xinghua Village—so romantic. Ping’an Road—sounds like a celebration. And then ‘Happiness Comes Knocking’—talk about destiny!”
Lin Hening: “…”
Jian Xiaoxi kept going.
“Hehe, Hening, if you and Gu Fei really end up together, then that guy Zhou Zhou totally counts as your matchmaker!”
Matchmaker, my ass.
Lin Hening’s head was still swimming from the hangover, and he didn’t have the strength to fight back, so he just let it slide.
Jian Xiaoxi, surprisingly disappointed by the lack of snark, said more seriously,
“All jokes aside, Hening, I really think Gu Fei’s a great guy. He’s handsome, built, has integrity, a solid career… and the man can cook. I mean, come on—boyfriend, bodyguard, chef, housekeeper—he’s the whole package!”
“It’s like buying a toaster and getting a house thrown in. If you miss this chance, you’ll be losing out on billions!”
Lin Hening could actually hear the heartbreak in his tone.
Honestly, Gu Fei really was great.
Loyal, responsible, respectful to his elders, accountable for his mistakes, hard-working and humble. A man of few words, but thoughtful. Everything he did, he did just right—never overstepping, never making you feel uncomfortable, but also never too distant.
And he could throw a punch that’d floor someone like Jian Xiaoxi. Calm, decisive, reliable—Gu Fei was basically husband material straight out of a dream.
Practically flawless.
Except… he just wasn’t Lin Hening’s type.
Lin Hening liked the refined, scholarly kind. Gentle, bookish, soft around the edges. Like Xia Zhile.
Gu Fei, with his rugged looks and tough-guy aura, was the complete opposite.
Kind of a shame.
But Lin Hening had just gotten out of a relationship with a jerk who’d chewed up years of genuine love and spit it out. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to start “raising another dog.”
Just then, a new call came in. He said to Jian Xiaoxi,
“Someone else is calling—I’ll talk to you later.”
Speak of the devil…
Xia Zhile:
“I packed up the stuff you left at my place. When do you want to come get it?”
Lin Hening:
“Toss it.”
Then he hung up.
The screen lit up again almost immediately. Lin Hening hesitated for a few seconds, then answered.
Xia Zhile’s voice came through, low and weighted:
“Then get my stuff ready. I’ll swing by when I have time—”
Lin Hening cut him off.
“Already tossed it.”
“…Especially that wool scarf. That was a gift from my first day at Rui— Wait, what did you say?”
Lin Hening hung up without a word.
The phone screen flipped back to WeChat, and only then did Lin Hening notice the message from Gu Fei pinned at the top:
[I’m almost at your place.]
Wait, what?!
Visitors had to go through security and sign in at his apartment complex—it was kind of a hassle. Lin Hening figured he might as well head down to meet him. But the moment he stepped out of the elevator on the first floor, he spotted Gu Fei dashing past like a gust of wind straight into the stairwell.
Lin Hening couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time.
He called out to him, but in the time it took to say just one word, Gu “Speed Demon” Fei had already bounded up to the second floor.
It felt like watching an action movie. Lin Hening was low-key impressed.
“You don’t know how to use an elevator?” Lin asked, deadpan.
Gu Fei replied without missing a beat, “Takes too long. I’m faster.”
“…Right.”
Lin Hening didn’t even try to argue.
Gu Fei handed over a takeout bag. “Eat it while it’s hot. Shouldn’t be all soggy yet.”
Even through the plastic container, the smell was mouthwatering—fresh pork and corn wontons. There was also a cup of soy milk, a banana, and an apple.
Lin Hening glanced at him, then pulled out the paper cup.
“After all that running, have a drink first. You’ve gotta be thirsty.”
He popped the lid—and blinked in surprise.
It wasn’t soy milk.
It was honey water.
Honey water, rich in fructose.
Banana and apple, packed with vitamin C.
Wontons, full of carbs and protein.
All perfect for easing a hangover—soothing headaches, calming the stomach, and rehydrating the body.
Gu Fei said, “I’m not thirsty. You drink it. If you’re not hungry, just eat a few wontons—but make sure you finish the fruit.”
Lin Hening replied instinctively, “I already had breakfast. You didn’t have to come all the way over.”
Gu Fei shot back, “Half a cup of almost-expired milk doesn’t count as breakfast.”
“…Touché.”
Honestly, there was no defending Mr. Milk, especially when he’d been nearing his expiration date.
“Thanks,” Lin Hening said, lifting the cup in a little toast before taking a sip. The warm honey water went down smooth. Then he reached into his bag and pulled out a lunchbox.
“By the way, here—this is yours.”
Just as Gu Fei reached out to take it, Lin Hening noticed a man pushing open the doors to the building’s main lobby.
For a second, he thought he was seeing things.
Was that… Xia Zhile?!
Lin Hening froze.
And Xia Zhile—who had clearly arrived with the noble air of “Sure, you threw out my stuff, but I’m not petty. I personally came to return yours”—also froze.
Xia Zhile looked at Lin Hening.
Then at Gu Fei.
Then at the lunchbox in Lin Hening’s hand.
Then at Gu Fei’s hand taking it.
His eyes went wide, round as saucers. He clutched his chest like he’d been personally betrayed by the universe.
“You two?!” Xia Zhile shouted, shaking with disbelief.
“Lin Hening! It’s been three days! You dumped me THREE DAYS AGO and you’ve already moved on?!”
