When Xia Xiqing stepped out of the elevator, he spotted five or six young women standing by the entrance. He immediately wondered if they were fans or something similar. Little did he expect that as soon as he approached the revolving door, the girls swarmed around him.
“Got any extra masks?” Xia Xiqing nudged Xu Qichen, who was already wearing one, with his elbow. Xu Qichen spread his hands helplessly. “Nope, just one left.”
Xia Xiqing clicked his tongue. “You sure are the one with baggage.” He blamed himself for being unprepared and had no choice but to face the situation head-on.
Each girl held up her phone, calling out Xia Xiqing’s name.
“Brother Xiqing, what are you doing here?”
Xia Xiqing mimicked his tone, “Hanging out.”
The girls giggled in unison, jostling to speak with him. Xia Xiqing found it odd—this was a private outing. How did they know?
“How did you find me?”
One of the girls replied, “Brother, you’re trending! We were just shopping nearby and came over.”
“Trending?” Xia Xiqing walked a few steps to the roadside and stopped. Xu Qichen went ahead to get the car, leaving him alone with the girls to wait.
“Yeah, someone spotted you! Plus, the new episode preview for Escape from Heaven just dropped!”
As soon as he finished, the others screamed in excitement. Xia Xiqing felt like he was surrounded by a pack of excited little marmots and couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s going on?”
“Brother, you gotta watch the preview! It’s so sweet!”
Sweet? Xia Xiqing was baffled. Wasn’t this a suspenseful, mind-bending reality show?
“Bro, did you win this episode? Can you spoil it for us?”
“Bro, who’s the killer?”
“Xiqing bro, when are you guys filming the next episode?”
“Can’t say! You’ll have to watch and find out~”
The questions came one after another, leaving Xia Xiqing overwhelmed. He looked up just as Xu Qichen’s car pulled up. Finally able to breathe, he said, “I gotta go. It’s getting late. You guys should head home soon too.”
“Xiqing Brother is so warm.”
“So gentle.”
The girls stuffed their bought bubble tea and desserts into Xia Xiqing’s hands, waving at him as he climbed into the car. Settling into the passenger seat, Xia Xiqing exhaled deeply and set the items down. Xu Qichen teased, “Pretty popular, huh?”
“You’ll see. They’ll dig up your stuff too, and you won’t be laughing then.”
“I don’t care.” Xu Qichen turned the steering wheel. “At worst, they’ll uncover my pen name for writing crispy duck stories. If they do, I’ll make you star in a BL adaptation.”
“Give it a rest. You two can act out all that sappy stuff yourselves.”
“Someone recently wanted to buy the play-within-a-play from one of my earlier books to adapt into a movie. I think I showed you that short story before—the one set in Nice.”
“The Dream of the Southern Branch. I know it.” Xia Xiqing leaned his head against the window. “Did you sell it?”
“Nope. I doubt anyone could pull off Yu Ning’s pretentious act.” Xu Qichen suddenly chuckled. “Come to think of it, you and Director Zhou Ziheng would be perfect—sunny, wholesome fake-jerk top paired with a brooding, debauched, broken bottom.” He couldn’t stop laughing.
“You’re the bottom, I’m the debauched top.”
Xu Qichen shot him a glance. “Fine, fine. Handsome top. Your face is too recognizable. You should wear a hat and mask when you go out from now on.”
Xia Xiqing sighed. “It’s precisely because I’m so easily recognized now that I haven’t dared go to nightclubs lately.”
“You should avoid those places anyway. Besides,” Xu Qichen changed the subject, “none of the guys at nightclubs are as good-looking as Zhou Ziheng.”
Hearing Zhou Ziheng’s name, Xia Xiqing instinctively snorted, not responding aloud, though his mind raced with thoughts.
How could nightclub types compare to a big star? And among stars, few could hold a candle to Zhou Ziheng.
Just then, Xia Xiqing happened to receive a WeChat message from Zhou Ziheng.
[Moral Champion: Are you done?]
Leaning his head against the car window, Xia Xiqing typed his reply.
[Terrorist: What’s up?]
“It’s already this late,” Xu Qichen glanced at his watch. “Come over for dinner tonight. I’ll cook something delicious for you.”
Xia Xiqing hummed in response. “I’m craving sweet and sour spare ribs.”
“I’ll have Zhixu bring some. Oh right, I still haven’t called him back.” Xu Qichen quickly dialed Xia Zhixu’s number. Xia Xiqing automatically activated the [Block Sappy Couple Chats] feature and lowered his head to send another message to Zhou Ziheng.
[Terrorist: Crashing dinner at Chenchen’s tonight. His sweet and sour ribs are insanely good.]
Zhou Ziheng had been composing a reply to the previous message, but upon seeing this line, he deleted everything. Calling him “Chenchen” sounded way too intimate. They were just high school classmates—did he really need to be that affectionate?
High school classmate…
Zhou Ziheng suddenly felt a pang of jealousy toward Xu Qichen. He too wanted to meet the teenage Xia Xiqing—wondered what he was like back then. Probably shorter than now, more delicate-looking. Did he sketch every day back then, or did he rush to the basketball court after class like other boys?
Would the fifteen-year-old Xia Xiqing be different from the one now? Might he have been more childish and adorable?
Speaking of childishness, he himself had only been ten back then, still an elementary school kid.
Thinking about it made Zhou Ziheng feel even more uneasy.
It felt like he’d missed out on so much, time that could never be reclaimed.
When Xu Qichen called Xia Zhixu, his voice sounded different from usual. Normally detached and emotionless, whenever he spoke to Xia Zhixu, his childish side surfaced completely. Xia Xiqing pretended not to hear anything nearby—after all, he’d grown accustomed to this kind of sweetness since high school. Just then, his phone buzzed again.
[Moral Exemplar: I can make sweet and sour pork ribs too. Come over to my place.]
The moment Xia Xiqing saw this message, he burst out laughing. His laughter was so sudden and loud that even Xu Qichen, who was on the phone, noticed and turned to look at him.
But Xia Xiqing himself was completely oblivious.
[Terrorist: How am I supposed to know if yours tastes good?]
[Moral Champion: Then you just have to try it to find out.]
That peculiar logic again, yet it always held a strange persuasiveness.
Xia Xiqing waited for Xu Qichen to end his call, hesitated, then spoke up, “Um… I might not be able to come over tonight.”
“What’s wrong? Something else?”
“Um…” Xia Xiqing realized this wasn’t the first time she’d stood Xu Qichen up, and felt a pang of guilt. “I’ll come over in a couple days. You two enjoy your alone time tonight.”
Xu Qichen didn’t press further. He wasn’t the gossipy type. He simply turned the car around and drove Xia Xiqing home.
“Director Kun should contact you directly about the casting.”
Xu Qichen didn’t press further—he wasn’t the gossipy type. He simply turned the car around and drove Xia Xiqing home.
“Director Kun will contact you directly about the casting,” Xu Qichen said, rolling down the window to look at Xia Xiqing standing outside. “If it feels like too much pressure, don’t force yourself.”
“I know.” Xia Xiqing reached out and touched Xu Qichen’s chin. “Go back now. Drive carefully.”
As Xia Xiqing climbed the stairs, he opened Weibo for a glance. Zhou Ziheng’s two trending topics were still up there. Fourth place was [Chance Encounter with Xia Xiqing], and fifth was [Escape from Heaven Trailer Easter Egg].
How come there’s an extra scene this time? The production team is getting more and more creative.
He clicked into the [Chance Encounter with Xia Xiqing] trending topic. The top Weibo post was a photo shared by an ordinary girl. It was a bit blurry, but Xia Xiqing instantly recognized it as the side profile shot taken by the young taxi driver he’d chatted with when heading to the hotel earlier.
[A Sweetie Who Loves Self-Study: My brother drove Xia Xiqing today! He even took a photo of him for me. Oh my god, I’m gonna cry! I should go work as a taxi conductor for my brother, waaah!]
The comments below were mostly from CP fans, with quite a few casual onlookers too.
[Self-Study Above All: Holy crap, Xiqing looks so sharp and cool in his everyday clothes! He’s the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen in workwear!]
[My Love Is a Little Artist: Oh my god, that little tuft of hair… I just want to touch it, waaah.]
[Cucumber Watermelon Honeydew: Xia Xiqing’s raw photos are this striking? He looks like he stepped out of a comic. @Certain so-called “beauty era” pretty boys, come get beaten up.]
[Sweety: Xia Xiqing’s legs are this long? Even a jumpsuit can’t hide those long legs. He looks so salty like this, totally unaffected. Gives off major boyfriend vibes.]
Who’s the sub? I’ve been the top for 25 years.
[Self-Study Girl Celebrates Every Day: Xiqing is over 180cm tall, but standing next to Ziheng makes him look shorter. Ziheng conquering the entertainment industry isn’t a joke—Bilibili’s editing community relies entirely on him.]
“Conquered the entertainment industry?”
“He’s just a pure, innocent virgin.”
Xia Xiqing stepped out of the elevator, walked to Zhou Ziheng’s door, and pressed the doorbell.
Before long, the door slid open from the inside. Zhou Ziheng, who had worn a black shirt during the audition, now sported a white hoodie. He must have just finished showering, his hair still damp, black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose—the very picture of a younger, wolfish charmer.
Before stepping inside, Zhou Ziheng leaned down and kissed Xia Xiqing’s lips with such effortless ease it seemed as though it had always been meant to be. Yet Xia Xiqing froze in place, his mind blank for a moment.
“Come in.”
Such intimacy exceeded his understanding of their relationship. Xia Xiqing felt bewildered, yet amidst the confusion, a flutter stirred within him.
This unfamiliar sensation made his heart race.
Slowly processing, he murmured an “Oh” before closing the door. Stepping inside, he noticed a pair of navy blue cotton slippers by the entryway.
Only when he slipped them on did Xia Xiqing realize these weren’t the same pair he’d worn during his previous visit.
These fit perfectly.
Zhou Ziheng’s thoughtfulness was like boiling a frog in warm water—before you could even register what was happening, you were already enveloped in his tenderness, leaving no room for resistance.
There was simply no opportunity to resist.
“Sit down for a moment. It’ll be ready soon.” His voice drifted from the kitchen. Following the scent, Xia Xiqing walked over and saw Zhou Ziheng’s back. His heart grew warm. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Even when he was at Xu Qichen’s house and saw him cooking for him, Xia Xiqing hadn’t felt this kind of feeling.
This man was here solely for him.
His heart began spinning with an uncontrollable illusion.
How could he entertain such a terrifying thought? This was Zhou Ziheng.
He could never become anyone’s possession.
Originally, he’d intended to tease this entertainment industry alpha after seeing the Weibo comments, but the moment he entered, Zhou Ziheng’s kiss had thrown him into disarray, erasing all previous thoughts.
Xia Xiqing stepped forward, seeing Zhou Ziheng slicing tomatoes. He leaned close to Zhou Ziheng’s profile, “Want me to help?”
“No need.” Zhou Ziheng’s lips curved upward without looking at him. “I have my doubts about your cooking skills.”
Hearing Zhou Ziheng’s teasing, Xia Xiqing promptly kicked him in the calf. Zhou Ziheng didn’t retaliate, just laughed and said, “Stop messing around,” before tossing the chopped tomatoes into the pot.
Xia Xiqing spotted a bowl of washed cherry tomatoes nearby, grabbed a handful, and popped them into his mouth. He wandered over to the bubbling soup pot, peered inside, and mumbled, “What’s cooking?”
“Tomato and yellow croaker soup.” Zhou Ziheng noticed the red tomato juice smeared on his lips and wiped it off with his finger. He lifted the lid of another pot, releasing a cloud of white steam mingled with the distinctive aroma of sweet and sour spare ribs.
“Smells amazing.” Xia Xiqing hadn’t felt particularly hungry before, but the scent instantly made him ravenous. “How much longer?”
“Just a bit longer.” Zhou Ziheng stirred the ribs with his spatula before replacing the lid. Xia Xiqing was curious—how did this child star, who’d been acting since childhood, become such a skilled cook?
“When did you find time to learn to cook?”
Zhou Ziheng tilted his head back and thought for a moment. “I learned when I was pretty young. I really enjoy cooking—it feels very therapeutic. Plus, later on, I played a chef in a drama. I specifically trained for a month for that role. All the cooking scenes were done by me; no stunt double was used.”
Impressive. Most actors wouldn’t bother putting in that kind of effort. Either way, Xia Xiqing felt like he’d hit the jackpot. Feeling increasingly pleased with himself, he tugged on the drawstring of Zhou Ziheng’s hoodie, pulling it out to its full length.
Zhou Ziheng, unaware of his intent, just laughed and said, “Stop messing around.” But Xia Xiqing was stubborn—the more Zhou told him to stop, the more he pulled.
Verbal warnings didn’t work, so Zhou Ziheng changed tactics. He wrapped his arms around Xia Xiqing’s waist and pulled him into his embrace. “Still pulling?”
Xia Xiqing leaned against the counter, eyes lowered, his index finger twisting the drawstring in circles—upward, until it reached the side of Zhou Ziheng’s neck. His fingertip repeatedly brushed against the small patch of skin between Zhou’s neck and ear, light and slow.
Such teasing felt like gentle torture to Zhou Ziheng. He seized Xia Xiqing’s fingers. “Do you particularly enjoy disrupting others when they’re working?”
Truly the epitome of a cat-like personality.
Xia Xiqing lifted his eyes, feigning innocence. “No, I wouldn’t disrupt anyone.”
“Not yet?” Zhou Ziheng raised an eyebrow.
He lifted his chin, grabbed Zhou Ziheng’s collar, and yanked him closer. His expression shifted from innocent to roguish in an instant. The distance between them suddenly closed, leaving only a tantalizingly close gap between their lips.
“I haven’t even kissed you yet. How could that be causing trouble?”
The tender atmosphere instantly escalated into a tension-filled collision. Zhou Ziheng was utterly defeated by him, wanting to think of nothing else but kissing him.
Just as Zhou Ziheng leaned in, Xia Xiqing released his grip and ducked back. Before Zhou could react, Xia pushed him away with a laugh, stepping back two paces from the counter. His voice carried a teasing amusement.
“Now that’s messing with me.”
There was simply no helping it. Zhou Ziheng chuckled softly, picking up a ladle to stir the bubbling thick soup. The swirling vortex stirred up refused to settle, much like his racing heartbeat.
Leaving the kitchen, Xia Xiqing skirted the living room pool and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The nightscape here differed from the view at his own home—more buildings, brighter lights.
Interestingly, a commercial building nearby featured a massive LED billboard advertising Zhou Ziheng’s phone endorsement. The sensation felt oddly surreal, though Xia Xiqing couldn’t quite pinpoint why. Turning his head, he noticed several photographs on the TV wall—many unfamiliar to him. Approaching for a closer look, he realized they were childhood photos of Zhou Ziheng taken on film sets.
Come to think of it, Xia Xiqing had originally become a fan solely because of that set of basketball game photos that went viral. On the court, Zhou Ziheng radiated confidence and fierce intensity, exuding powerful testosterone. Before Zhou Ziheng adopted his “walking testosterone” persona, Xia Xiqing couldn’t care less about the domestic entertainment industry.
Even after becoming a fan, Xia Xiqing couldn’t care less—or rather, couldn’t be bothered—about what shows Zhou Ziheng had acted in as a child. He was purely a physical fan, with zero interest in the kid himself.
But… Xia Xiqing leaned closer to the old photo on the wall.
Young Zhou Ziheng was actually quite adorable. He looked soft and cuddly, with the kind of innocent face that would get pinched and hugged by all sorts of strange uncles and aunts if taken out in public.
In the photo, Zhou Ziheng wore a tiny painter’s hat and overalls, seemingly playing a role in some Republican-era drama. He was the very picture of a little milk-fed young master. His face resembled a little girl’s—pale and delicate, with big eyes.
What kind of devilish force was time, transforming such an adorable little fellow into a six-foot-three alpha male? Yet Xia Xiqing felt a sense of familiarity, as if he’d seen him somewhere before.
Perhaps it was just that beautiful children all looked alike. The more Xia Xiqing looked at this child, the more adorable he seemed. He wondered if he should catch up on this child star’s dramas? He had nothing better to do anyway.
How could he be so incredibly cute?
He extended a finger and gently tapped the little face in the photo.
“What are you doing?”
Xia Xiqing nervously withdrew his hand, his shoulders jerking in fright. He turned to see Zhou Ziheng holding a bowl of soup.
“Nothing.”
He didn’t know why he felt guilty.
It was just a young Zhou Ziheng. Just a casual kiss from Zhou Ziheng. Perhaps he understood, or perhaps he wanted to pretend he didn’t.
All these restless feelings probably stemmed from the same root cause.
He refused to admit it under any circumstances—that what he liked was no longer just Zhou Ziheng’s persona.
