As night fell completely, Zhou Ziheng clasped his hand tightly as they stepped out of the mint-green aquarium that had once belonged only to them.
Outside the underpass, it was like a different world—people bustling by, shoulder to shoulder. Both of them put on masks and slipped into the busy crowd.
“Question time.” Zhou Ziheng raised his hand, grinning like a child. Xia Xiqing turned to look at him. “What is it?”
Zhou Ziheng’s eyes glinted in the streetlights, flickering like fireflies. “What can I do during my probation period?”
The sidewalk grew increasingly crowded. Xia Xiqing pulled his hand away, glancing down at his completely soaked shoes. “I haven’t decided yet.”
No sooner had he spoken than he was gently nudged. “Holding hands is okay, right?”
Xia Xiqing draped his left arm over his right wrist, rubbing the reddened palm where he’d gripped it. His tone was slow, hesitant, reluctant to speak yet unable to resist. “…Okay.”
Another gentle nudge followed his words.
Xia Xiqing frowned and lifted his head, meeting Zhou Ziheng’s deep eyes—eyes that curved into crescent moons when he smiled.
“What about kissing?”
His voice carried a hint of warm breath, soft as if tempting someone to step by step into his heart.
“Kissing is okay, right?”
Xia Xiqing took a step back, deliberately adopting a tone of disgust. “I think you really want to make the gossip headlines.”
“Exactly.” Zhou Ziheng quickened his pace to get in front of Xia Xiqing, then turned to face him, backing up step by step. His eyes never strayed, fixed solely on Xia Xiqing’s beautiful almond-shaped eyes. “Right now, I’d love for the whole world to know I’m finally dating…”
“Careful.”
A woman pushing a cart through the crowd, rushing to the night market, nearly collided with Zhou Ziheng’s back. Xia Xiqing reacted swiftly, grabbing Zhou Ziheng’s arm and pulling him toward himself.
Their chests pressed together. Xia Xiqing lifted his head, his nose grazing Zhou Ziheng’s jaw. Worried he might lose his balance, he reached around and wrapped an arm around his waist.
“…in love.” Zhou Ziheng murmured the last three words, his expression blank as he lowered his gaze to meet Xia Xiqing’s.
The surrounding lights gradually flickered on. In that instant of closeness, like a slow-motion frame-by-frame, their bodies traced the outline of an embrace.
“I want to kiss you,” Zhou Ziheng murmured softly before him. The older woman he’d nearly collided with earlier wasn’t about to let it go easily, relishing the chance to vent her frustration.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going! You’re a grown man walking backwards. What if you knock over my cart?”
The woman grumbled as she pushed her cart away. Xia Xiqing snapped back to his senses, released his grip, and pushed Zhou Ziheng away, pulling him to his left side. “Watch where you’re going.”
“I want to kiss you,” Zhou Ziheng leaned closer and repeated, his voice tinged with laughter.
Here we go again.
Getting a little sweetness and then flaunting it without restraint—that was Zhou Ziheng’s style through and through.
If he didn’t show him a thing or two, he’d really start thinking he was some innocent little angel.
Xia Xiqing lifted his gaze, tracing down from Zhou Ziheng’s pupils. His eyes lingered, fixated for a moment on the lips beneath the black mask. He looked up again, meeting Zhou Ziheng’s deep, piercing eyes. The tips of his fluttering eyelashes were brimming with allure.
Having finished his teasing, Xia Xiqing let out a soft laugh, shoved both hands into his pants pockets, and walked forward. Zhou Ziheng, left half his soul behind by that single glance, stood rooted to the spot.
Those eyes were too alluring.
Zhou Ziheng couldn’t sigh enough about it.
Snapping back to reality, Zhou Ziheng hurriedly took a few steps. “Hey, wait for me.”
“No way. What good are those long legs of yours?”
“To chase after you, of course.”
“You’re crazy.”
Zhou Ziheng sent a message to Xiao Luo, instructing him to handle Director Kun and Jiang Yin, then turned off his phone with a flourish.
The two dodged the wrap party, but dinner was inevitable. Xia Xiqing led Zhou Ziheng to a nearby restaurant specializing in raw beef noodle soup. Having grown up in Beijing, Zhou Ziheng rarely ate authentic rice noodles, let alone this regional specialty.
“Owner, two bowls of wide noodles—one without spice.” Xia Xiqing turned to Zhou Ziheng. “What’ll you have? Beef? Kidney?”
“Beef.” Zhou Ziheng eyed the beautifully sliced meat before nudging Xia Xiqing’s elbow and whispering, “What’s kidney?”
Xia Xiqing gave him a mischievous smirk. “You don’t even know that, Young Master Zhou?” He then jabbed Zhou Ziheng’s side with his finger, leaned close to his ear, and whispered in a sinister tone, “Kidneys.”
Zhou Ziheng immediately clutched his waist.
Xia Xiqing deliberately exaggerated his description: “Fresh kidneys are split in half lengthwise. The white tendon in the middle is removed. Using a sharp knife, they’re sliced into thin pieces one by one. Then they’re dipped into boiling broth.”
Zhou Ziheng couldn’t help but shudder. “I’ll have beef. Beef.”
“Sure.” The owner deftly scooped soft white rice noodles from the broth into a bowl, ladled in beef soup, braising sauce, chopped scallions, and diced radish. He then arranged freshly blanched beef slices over the noodles and handed the bowl to Zhou Ziheng. He prepared another bowl the same way, pouring a generous spoonful of spicy braising sauce over it for Xia Xiqing.
The shop’s air conditioning hummed softly as the two sat facing each other, each with a bowl of noodles, eating with utmost comfort.
“When I was in school, beef noodle soup was my favorite breakfast—either with blanched or braised beef.” Xia Xiqing found it not spicy enough, so he scooped another spoonful of chili oil into his bowl and stirred it in. The entire bowl turned bright red, making Zhou Ziheng wince.
“Doesn’t eating something this spicy first thing in the morning upset your stomach?” Zhou Ziheng picked up a pair of chopsticks, lifted a strand of noodles, and put it in his mouth. It was tender and smooth, incredibly delicious.
“It’s fine,” Xia Xiqing scooped a spoonful of pickled yardlong beans into Zhou Ziheng’s bowl. “We have tons of breakfast options here. Thirty days a month without repeating—hot dry noodles, three-flavor bean curd skin, braised meatballs, fried dough fritters, egg wine… too many to count.”
“Then you’ll have to treat me to every single one.” Zhou Ziheng lifted his bowl, sipped the broth, and flashed him a smile, looking just like a big dog—clingy yet well-behaved. “Otherwise, I’ll just stick around Wuhan and refuse to leave.”
“Then don’t leave. Just hang around here.”
After leaving the noodle shop, the two of them strolled through the night market, sampling street snacks along the way. Both had turned off their phones, ignoring any calls, simply walking side by side in quiet companionship.
Xia Xiqing had never truly been in love before. Though he couldn’t bring himself to say it…
He glanced at Zhou Ziheng beside him.
But he truly was his first love.
“I don’t want to go back to the hotel.” Zhou Ziheng held a string of water chestnuts, biting into one with a crisp snap.
Xia Xiqing recalled the earlier scandal. “The hotel entrance is probably swarming with reporters right now.”
Zhou Ziheng tilted his head in confusion. “Why?”
“You didn’t know?” Xia Xiqing shot him a look. “The rumors about you and Song Nian are all over the internet right now. How could you not know?”
“I was filming all afternoon. My phone wasn’t with me. After I got it back, I kept calling you, trying to reach you.” Zhou Ziheng finished the last water chestnut, his words muffled as he continued, “Then it went dead. How would I know about any rumors?”
Xia Xiqing shot him a disapproving look. “So you know about it now? Your first scandal since debuting, Zhou Ziheng.”
Zhou Ziheng tossed his chopstick into a nearby trash can, shamelessly draping his arm around Xia Xiqing’s. “Wasn’t my first scandal with you?”
“Get lost.”
“No way.” Zhou Ziheng wrapped an arm around Xia Xiqing’s shoulder. “Every self-study girl in the country can vouch for me—my only rumored love interest is Xia Xiqing.”
Sticky as glue. Xia Xiqing glared at him but said nothing. Zhou Ziheng’s hand brushed against Xia Xiqing’s cheek. He sighed. “I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to deal with those people.”
The alley was nearing its end.
Zhou Ziheng quietly took his hand. “I’ve been in this circle since childhood. All these years, I’ve acted in so many plays. People always say I rose to fame young, saving me so much time compared to others.”
“You’ve lost a lot of time too.” Xia Xiqing’s voice softened without him realizing it. His mind drifted to the projector in Zhou Ziheng’s bedroom, to that obedient, soft Zhou Ziheng, utterly adorable. Such a small child, playing all kinds of roles in the entertainment industry. Thankfully, he hadn’t lost himself.
And he remained purer, more beautiful than anyone else.
“Time is precious,” Zhou Ziheng interlaced his fingers with Xia Xiqing’s, gripping them tightly. “It’s one-dimensional, unidirectional—once it’s gone, it never comes back. But if you’re here…”
“…then I just want to waste time with you.”
Xia Xiqing’s heartbeat faltered.
“No.” Zhou Ziheng suddenly turned to face Xia Xiqing.
“I want to waste everything with you.”
The dim, aged streetlight cast long shadows on the ground, intertwining the two figures as they leaned against each other. Xia Xiqing looked down, silent for a long while, as if hesitating over something.
Zhou Ziheng spoke first, “Shall we go back? You must be tired.”
“I want to take you somewhere,” Xia Xiqing suddenly said, pulling him back.
Zhou Ziheng didn’t ask questions. He simply followed Xia Xiqing back to the deserted film set to retrieve the car. The crew was almost entirely absent, likely still eating. Xia Xiqing opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. “Get in.”
The black car slipped into the traffic like a fish, concealing their thoughts and secrets within the bustling city.
This was Zhou Ziheng’s car, and it was Xia Xiqing’s first time driving it. His palms were sweaty and sticky. While waiting at a red light, he reached into the storage compartment beside the steering wheel, hoping to find some wet wipes or something similar.
“Hey, don’t open it.”
It was too late. Xia Xiqing had already pulled back the lid. Inside spilled a mountain of adorably packaged candies, overflowing like freshly popped popcorn.
Candy scattered all over the car. Both of them froze for a moment, then exchanged a glance and burst out laughing.
This tiny storage compartment was exactly like their hearts. Fragments of sweetness overflowed at the slightest touch, too much to ever contain.
Outside the car window, the scenery shifted from secluded groves to towering skyscrapers, then transformed into a deep, tranquil lake. Starlight shattered and scattered across its surface, creating a shimmering, rippling effect. Exhausted from a day filled with both tears and laughter, Zhou Ziheng had fallen asleep.
This was a quiet cluster of lakeside villas. As Xia Xiqing drove through the gate, security stopped him. He removed his mask to look inside, where a security guard approaching forty emerged. The guard first squinted at Xia Xiqing in the driver’s seat, then noticed him leaning sideways against the window. With a smile, he called out, “Uncle Lin!” Only then did the guard recognize him.
“Why, isn’t this Xiqing? It’s been years since I last saw you.”
A smile played at Xia Xiqing’s lips. Seeing the guard waved him through, he exchanged only a few polite words before driving into the compound.
In his dream, he felt someone gently patting his cheek. Zhou Ziheng caught the hand, tracing the fingers to the calluses left from drawing on his palm. He could always recognize them instantly by those calluses.
Xia Xiqing watched him, eyes still closed, take his hand and press it to his lips for repeated kisses. He grabbed Zhou Ziheng’s chin fiercely, shaking him twice. “Still sleeping? Keep sleeping and I’ll rape you before I kill you.”
“Go ahead, I’d love that.” Zhou Ziheng spread his hands, eyes still shut. “It’ll fulfill my fantasy of having sex in a car.”
Xia Xiqing’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head. He shoved Zhou Ziheng’s face and unbuckled his own seatbelt. “I thought I was shameless enough, but you’ve truly surpassed me. Get out!”
Hearing this, Zhou Ziheng rubbed his eyes and followed his out. Standing beside the car, he stretched lazily. Glancing around, he saw a three-story detached villa before him.
“I thought you were taking me to elope,” Zhou Ziheng remarked, eyeing the villa. Its pale yellow walls didn’t look new. “Did you buy me a house? Are you planning to keep me as your kept man?”
“Nice try.” Xia Xiqing pulled a set of keys from his pocket, fumbled for the right one under the streetlight, and walked toward the villa’s entrance. Only then did Zhou Ziheng realize this villa truly belonged to him. “Where is this?”
Xia Xiqing lowered his head, inserted the key into the lock, turned it twice, and pushed open the door. Inside, darkness reigned—nothing could be seen. His footsteps halted at the threshold, motionless.
“What’s wrong?”
“This used to be my home,” Xia Xiqing murmured with a bitter smile, head bowed. “No, it’s where I lived as a child.” He drew a deep breath, unaware his fingers were trembling.
Zhou Ziheng froze.
So the “place” Xia Xiqing had casually mentioned was actually his former home. The place where he had once lived.
It was also the place where he had endured so much torment.
He couldn’t help but recall that night, when Xia Xiqing, drunk, had cried silently in his arms.
“You said you didn’t want to go to a hotel. This place is passable. We can make do for one night. No one’s here anyway. It’s been empty for over a decade. Not sure if the electricity even works.” Xia Xiqing acted as if nothing was wrong. He stepped inside, reached out to feel around, found the light switch, and with a click, the crystal chandelier in the foyer lit up.
“The lights still work. That’s good.” Xia Xiqing took two steps inside, then noticed Zhou Ziheng hadn’t followed. Turning back, he remembered he’d never told Zhou about his family background. Perhaps Zhou still thought he was just a small-time painter. Xia Xiqing smiled and explained, “I forgot to mention—my family’s in real estate. Huanya Group. You should know it. We started here, but as the business grew, we moved to Beijing…”
His lengthy explanation was abruptly interrupted when Zhou Ziheng grasped his hand. Xia Xiqing froze, lifting his eyes to meet Zhou’s gaze.
“Your hands are so cold.” Zhou Ziheng rubbed his stiff palms, his deep eyes brimming with tenderness. He stepped closer, drew his into his embrace, and kissed his ear.
“Thank you.”
Thank you for trusting me.
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