Xia Xiqing had a vague sense that Zhou Ziheng knew something.
How did he find out? Did Xu Qichen tell him? But they didn’t seem that close.
His mind was in turmoil, thoughts tumbling out one after another. He didn’t want to dwell on these trivial details anymore. Zhou Ziheng’s embrace held a strange healing power, capable of quickly soothing the cracks in his emotions—a power Xia Xiqing himself couldn’t explain.
He shifted the hand hanging limply at his side, moving slowly to wrap it around Zhou Ziheng. His cool palm pressed against the broad back, against the slightly protruding shoulder blades, drawing warmth from the contact.
Zhou Ziheng hadn’t expected Xia Xiqing to return his embrace now. A small piece of his heart sank, as if a tiny person had quietly sat upon it. He could feel Xia Xiqing’s fingers lightly gripping the edge of his shoulder blade, his forehead resting against his shoulder in a gesture of surrender.
Was this a kind of trust?
Unable to resist, he ran his hand slowly up the line of his spine from the nape of his neck.
“Are you petting a cat?” Xia Xiqing’s muffled voice came from his shoulder.
Zhou Ziheng chuckled. “So you’re saying you’re my pet cat?”
Xia Xiqing was stumped by this retort, his newly subdued anger flaring up again. He released his hands and lifted his head, but the moment his palms touched Zhou Ziheng’s chest, they were captured and clasped tightly between Zhou’s fingers.
“You’ve pushed me away too many times,” Zhou Ziheng said, meeting his gaze. “I have to be prepared for you to push me away at any moment.”
But I know you don’t truly need me, so even stopping you from pushing me away has become a reflex.
Hearing his words, Xia Xiqing felt his ears burn. He lowered his gaze, avoiding Zhou Ziheng’s eyes, and made no attempt to free his hands from the grip. Suddenly, he felt a warm, soft touch on his forehead—unbelievably tender.
When he finally looked up, his eyes were met with a gentle kiss. The moment his lips brushed against his lashes, the unfamiliar sensation made Xia Xiqing instinctively close his eyes. He felt Zhou Ziheng’s hands cradle his face, fingertips resting against the soft hollow behind his ear, his kiss landing on the tip of his nose.
Xia Xiqing’s heart pounded with a painful ache.
He suddenly felt profoundly miserable. Having never been treated gently since childhood, he’d grown convinced that such kindness wasn’t meant for him.
Even the slightest hint of it left him panicked.
His nose stung, but crying now would be utterly humiliating. Xia Xiqing fought back the tears, furrowing his brow and opening his eyes wide. Zhou Ziheng’s forehead pressed against his own, their noses brushing together. His voice was soft, muffled as if shrouded in sea mist.
“I know you think we’re not cut from the same cloth—that I’m idealistic, overflowing with goodwill,” he murmured, his fingers gently tracing Xia Xiqing’s jawline. “But let me make one thing clear: I don’t possess that much protective instinct.”
“Is that so… you don’t?” Somehow, Xia Xiqing’s counterquestion sounded weak and breathless.
“Well… occasionally I do. Like when I see a stray cat curled up on the street, I really want to take it home.”
Xia Xiqing snorted coldly through his nose. “You think you can just pick it up? It’ll scratch you bloody.”
“It’s fine. That’s a necessary price to pay.” Zhou Ziheng’s lips curved into a gentle smile. He gently bumped his forehead against Xia Xiqing’s before continuing his earlier thought. “Or like when I see a beautiful rose trapped in a thicket of thorns, I feel the urge to protect it, to rescue it.”
“Is leaving the thorns really good for the rose?” Xia Xiqing lifted his eyes to meet his, his irises veiled with moisture—tears he hadn’t fully shed yet.
“I only rescue it because it wants to leave.”
“How would you know?”
“Of course I know.” Zhou Ziheng’s eyes curved into a smile, revealing his most childlike side.
Zhou Ziheng’s logic was always peculiar, yet always persuasive. Xia Xiqing found himself unable to argue back. He pressed, “What about another example?”
“No more examples. As a science guy, my limited metaphor skills end here.” Zhou Ziheng tilted his head and gave Xia Xiqing’s tiny mole on his nose another quick peck.
His eyes sparkled, as if he suddenly felt his smile was too childish. He deliberately toned it down, appearing even more solemn and sincere.
“Only Xia Xiqing—and no one else—makes me feel this urge to protect.”
Such a light statement, so light Xia Xiqing couldn’t grasp it. Yet suddenly it grew heavy, crashing into his chest. He couldn’t dislodge it; it sank deep inside.
Stray cats fear humans; roses fear the hand that reaches for them.
Xia Xiqing feared tenderness.
Because tenderness was the only weapon in the world that could conquer all.
“May I kiss you? Now.”
Another question so earnest that Xia Xiqing felt defeated once more. He even let out an involuntary bitter smile. “So you still want to kiss?”
“Mm.” Zhou Ziheng shook his head rapidly. “No, not like that. I meant…”
A voice suddenly echoed from the restroom doorway. Before Zhou Ziheng could halt his explanation mid-sentence, Xia Xiqing silenced his flustered heart with a kiss.
“This hotel’s public restroom is surprisingly decent.”
A stranger’s voice.
“Why are you so concerned about the hotel restroom?” Men had a nasty habit of cracking dirty jokes in restrooms. “What, do you like playing with such thrills?”
The hand interlaced with his was clasped tighter by Xia Xiqing, their chests pressed together in a tug-of-war of strength. Yet his eyes were soft, brimming with bright tenderness.
It was precisely those eyes, laden with such potent implication, that made Zhou Ziheng unable to dismiss Xia Xiqing as just another deceiver, unable to deny the genuine affection he seemed to radiate. Even though he knew it wasn’t real.
“What’s so thrilling about a hotel bathroom? Nightclubs are way more exciting. Last time I was drunk and stumbled into the restroom, the noise from the next stall was so loud—holy shit, it was like a live broadcast, the moaning was absolutely wild.”
Perhaps overhearing their exchange, Xia Xiqing’s free hand began to wander restlessly, tracing the hem of Zhou Ziheng’s black shirt down to the texture of his skin. What should have been a light kiss grew sticky and lingering, lips parting only to press back together, daring to tease at the edge of audible smacking sounds.
“Hahaha, thrilling stuff. I’ll have to try that next time.”
Zhou Ziheng’s furrowed brow betrayed his arousal. Xia Xiqing reluctantly released his lips, staring into his eyes. As he raised an eyebrow, he silently mouthed the words.
[Try?]
“Try? Who are you going to try it with?”
Being teased like this was a world away from Zhou Ziheng’s original intention. He tightened his arms around Xia Xiqing in irritation, his shirt sleeves rolled up, the fabric rubbing against the waistband of Xia’s work uniform. The kiss came too fiercely, too abruptly. Xia Xiqing barely steadied his legs, but his upper body was pressed back so hard he nearly toppled backward.
“Oh, just pick any girl to bring in. These young things are so easy to hook these days…”
Mid-sentence, a thunderous crash erupted from the bathroom stall. Both men spun around in fright, the sound abruptly ceasing.
Xia Xiqing broke out in a cold sweat. His hand, which had reached out to steady the partition but misjudged the force, remained pressed against it.
“Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me.”
“Something must’ve fallen. With your nerves of steel, you think you can pick up girls? More like girls picking you up…”
The verbal sparring ended, but Zhou Ziheng, still unsatisfied, bit Xia Xiqing’s lower lip. He tugged it gently before releasing, mimicking Xia’s lip movements.
[Pick you up.]
Another thud echoed. Without another word, they pulled up their pants—zipper still undone—and bolted.
“Holy shit, what the hell was that?”
As the footsteps faded, Xia Xiqing, having finished hammering the partition, couldn’t contain his amusement. He leaned close to Zhou Ziheng’s ear, his laughter growing louder.
“You scared them so bad they’ll never hook up in a bathroom again.” Zhou Ziheng whispered.
Leaning against Zhou Ziheng’s shoulder, Xia Xiqing turned his face and blew warm breath into Zhou Ziheng’s ear. “Like you’d ever dare, big star.”
“What do you gain by provoking me?”
“Plenty.” Xia Xiqing reached out, carefully smoothing Zhou Ziheng’s rumpled shirt, tucking the hem into his pants before tugging at his belt buckle. “So I can take you when you can’t resist anymore.”
Zhou Ziheng chuckled helplessly. “Why not wait until I can’t resist and take you?”
Xia Xiqing pouted. Technically, he had a point. “Nope. I’m taking you.”
“When will you ever give up on this idea?” Zhou Ziheng found his stubborn persistence both adorable and amusing.
“A person must have dreams,” Xia Xiqing declared solemnly. “My dream this year is to fulfill the important mission of helping you open your business auspiciously.”
“Just don’t cry when you get disillusioned.”
“I’ll cry tears of joy when I achieve it.”
“You better be.” Zhou Ziheng leaned down and kissed his cheek. Xia Xiqing deliberately put on a disgusted expression, wiping his face with his hand. As he lowered his head, he noticed the injury on Zhou Ziheng’s arm. Grabbing his wrist, he saw the red marks hadn’t faded yet—probably turning bruised by tomorrow.
“It doesn’t hurt.” Zhou Ziheng spoke first.
Xia Xiqing shot him a glare. “Who cares if it hurts?” He released the wrist. “Serves you right. You practically threw yourself at me.”
“Yeah, serves me right.”
“Stop copying me.”
“I’m not copying you. I genuinely think I deserve it.” Zhou Ziheng wrapped his arms around Xia Xiqing like a large dog, then pulled back, grabbing his shoulders to stand a bit apart. He smiled. “You look really good in that outfit today.”
Xia Xiqing had received countless compliments about his appearance since childhood, but few were delivered with Zhou Ziheng’s straightforward sincerity.
Suddenly, a pang of comparison struck him, though it made him seem a bit petty.
“Am I better looking than Zi Xi?” Xia Xiqing tilted his face up, giving Zhou Ziheng’s ear a firm tug.
Zhou Ziheng immediately frowned in confusion. “Why would you compare yourself to him?” His genuine confusion was misinterpreted, earning him a sharp tug on his ear. “Hold on… I meant he can’t even be considered handsome, right? That kind of look is pretty common in this circle, isn’t it?”
Xia Xiqing tried to act cool, but his lips betrayed his thoughts.
“Oh? Then isn’t mine pretty common too?”
Zhou Ziheng frowned thoughtfully, reaching up to pinch Xia Xiqing’s chin. He tilted his face slightly to the left, then gently turned it to the right before centering it. Once more, those cold yet melodious words escaped his lips.
“There is only one.”
A tremor shot through Xia Xiqing’s heart. He lowered his head to lick his dry lips, then forced out three awkward words: “Science guy.”
“Too bad these hands of mine only know how to draw force diagrams. If I could paint, I’d sketch you every day.”
If he kept talking, Xia Xiqing felt his heart might leap out of his chest. He raised his hand to cover Zhou Ziheng’s mouth. “Shut up. Get out. You’re suffocating me.”
The stuffiness was driving him wild.
Zhou Ziheng smiled and kissed the back of his hand.
This guy… Xia Xiqing withdrew his hand. He recalled how fans in the fandom described Zhou Ziheng—heartbreaker, heart sniper—those clichéd labels he’d once scorned.
They actually fit him pretty well?
Pfft. He didn’t have any “hearts” to speak of.
To avoid suspicion, the two emerged from the restroom one after the other. Kun Cheng and the producer were still discussing things in the room. Zhou Ziheng went in first, and the assistant director called out, “Kun Ge, Ziheng’s back.”
“Where’d you go? Took forever.” Kun Cheng asked casually. Zhou Ziheng sat down beside him. “Answered a call.”
“Your hand’s okay now?” Kun Cheng glanced at his arm. Zhou Ziheng rubbed it uncomfortably. “Fine. It’ll heal in two days.”
Kun Cheng chuckled. “What were you thinking? You didn’t look like you were acting at all.” Zhou Ziheng knew he was teasing him, ruffled his hair, and didn’t respond.
“But the way you stepped in to block just now? That was pure Gao Kun.” Kun Cheng shook his head. “Pure Gao Kun.”
“Xu Zixi acted well too—solid technique, genuine spark,” Kun Cheng sighed. “But compared to Xia Xiqing, the acting traces just stood out.” He glanced at Zhou Ziheng. “You want to partner with Xia Xiqing too, right?”
Zhou Ziheng felt he’d been seen through and blurted out, “Of course I’d want to work with the better actor.”
“Come on,” Kuncheng patted his shoulder. “You go ahead. We’ll discuss it some more. We’ll decide in the next couple days. Oh, have you seen Xia Xiqing?”
“I think I just saw him near the restroom door.” Zhou Ziheng bluffed nonchalantly, just as Xia Xiqing walked in. “He’s coming over.”
Reporters swarmed downstairs. Zhou Ziheng had considered leaving with him, but then thought it might look suspicious if they were photographed together. He decided to have Xiao Luo drive him back first. Zhou Ziheng had turned down numerous events for this project, but with filming still on hold, he suddenly found himself with a lot of free time these past few days.
“Ziheng, you’re trending again today.”
Zhou Ziheng got into the car, removing his mask and sunglasses. “Did the company buy it?”
“Nope.” Xiao Luo laughed helplessly. “The trailer for the third episode of Escape from Heaven came out, and it shot straight to the top of the trending charts.”
Hearing this, Zhou Ziheng recalled the show’s director had indeed asked him via WeChat to help promote it on Weibo earlier. He’d been so busy he’d forgotten. He opened Weibo and refreshed the homepage, where he indeed found the trailer. Posted at 5 PM, it already had over 40,000 reposts. He clicked to watch the video.
The trailer opened with a close-up of a radio. After a burst of static, a human voice suddenly emerged.
It was Xia Xiqing’s voice, slow-paced and soft-toned.
[The moment I met you was the beginning of the Big Bang. Every particle left me and raced toward you. Only after that tiniest instant did the universe truly come into being.]
Suddenly, images of a nebula explosion filled the screen. It split into several identical nebulae, which then vibrated and merged back into one. Gradually shrinking, it transformed into an illustration in a book—a seamless montage.
Soon, several voices overlapped.
First, Shang Sirui’s question: [If both of us are ‘girlfriends,’ shouldn’t we share the same chain of events?]
Xia Xiqing’s voice emerged amid static: [What if you’re girlfriends from different timelines?]
Before the echo faded, Zhou Ziheng’s query cut in: “Why does your diary record the female lead’s death? Since you traveled back, shouldn’t she have been saved?”
Shang Sirui’s voice returned, agitated:
“In my storyline, I’m the one trying to save people. It’s the female lead who saves the male lead—the one who locked himself in and turned on the gas to kill himself. Do you understand?”
The sole female voice interjected, firm and resolute, [Xia Xiqing is the instigator of this tragedy. Without him, none of this would have happened.]
Finally, Xia Xiqing’s words came through, tinged with a smile.
[You know what? I could kill you right now to silence you.]
The screen instantly went pitch black, and the music, which had been accelerating, dissolved into static.
The editing team nailed it, Zhou Ziheng couldn’t help but laugh. This one teaser instantly drew everyone’s attention to Xia Xiqing.
His own voice came through the headphones.
[She thinks you’re the Killer.]
[Why should I believe you?]
In the darkness, a butterfly glowed blue, fluttering its tiny wings. Its faint blue light gradually illuminated the surrounding set. The silhouette of a boy in dark blue clothing appeared, the special-effect butterfly still beating its wings until it merged with the butterfly bookmark in his hand.
[Xi Qing?]
Xia Xiqing turned around.
The screen abruptly split in two, with him and Xia Xiqing occupying opposite sides. Though clearly not in the same room, the editing made it seem as if they could gaze directly at each other.
[If you’re willing to bet your life on my sincerity, I don’t mind.]
The screen split again into four vertical frames. Their faces flashed in succession before the screen went completely black once more. Uneasy breathing echoed in the darkness, making Zhou Ziheng’s heart clench. It was Xia Xiqing’s breath.
The room door suddenly swung open, flooding the scene with light.
A figure slowly emerged.
Ruan Xiao’s voice echoed.
[Has the male lead ever left the room?]
A pale face gradually materialized in the darkness—Xia Xiqing’s.
Shang Sirui’s voice overlapped: [If I leave this room, the door will close. I’ll never be able to get back in.]
A smile spreads across Xia Xiqing’s face.
[I’m getting ready to go out.]
The screen shrinks into a single electronic line, like turning off a television, before fading completely to black. As the sound effect plays, the words “Escape to Freedom” appear. A butterfly flutters by, leaving behind a blue subtitle—The Butterfly Effect.
I thought the trailer ended there, but there was an extra scene.
Four vertical frames appeared. First, Shang Sirui crouched before a radio, twisting each knob in turn—left to right, right to left. Suddenly, Ruan Xiao’s voice came through the radio: “Hello?” Shang Sirui jolted backward, landing on his backside. A black frame beside him showed Ruan Xiao’s room, his expression slightly puzzled. Then two frames simultaneously went dark, while the remaining two lit up: Xia Xiqing stood at the doorway, extending a finger, and in the adjacent frame, Zhou Ziheng also reached out a hand.
Apart from the white dividing line, the two seemed almost as if they were facing each other, their fingers touching.
[Don’t you think you’re being too biased?]
[I’m biased by nature.]
Video ends.
Zhou Ziheng was genuinely impressed. The production team had managed to edit the teaser for a mind-bending suspense show to look like a romantic drama—full of highlights and talking points, yet revealing not a single shred of actual plot.
“Finished watching?” Little Luo, waiting for the green light, grinned. “You know what your trending topics are?”
“What?”
“Check it yourself, haha.”
Confused, Zhou Ziheng opened the trending list. The top two entries were both related to him.
[Sweet Talker Zhou Ziheng]
[Gentle Alpha Zhou Ziheng]
Pfft.
He casually took a screenshot and sent it via WeChat.
[Moral Exemplar: If I let you choose, which one would you pick?]
Stepping out of the elevator with Xu Qichen, his phone buzzed. Xia Xiqing continued Xu Qichen’s conversation while glancing at his phone, unable to hold back a laugh.
For some reason, he could vividly picture Zhou Ziheng’s smug expression right now.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” Xia Xiqing quickly typed a few words and hit send.
It wasn’t until they got out of the car that Zhou Ziheng, who had been waiting for a reply, finally received Xia Xiqing’s message.
[Terrorist: Kids make choices, adults make love.]
Author’s Note:
Xia Xiqing: They’re all mine, so why should I choose? I just want to… [got his mouth covered]
Zhou Ziheng: No, you don’t.
