“I’ll have Xiao Luo pick you up tomorrow at noon. You don’t have class tomorrow, right?”
Zhou Ziheng unlocked his front door, slipped into his slippers, and walked inside. The living room was empty, but the lights were on, and a half-empty cup of coffee sat on the coffee table.
“Got it.”
“Do you have class tomorrow afternoon?” Jiang Yin asked casually while signing documents on the other end. “If so, take a leave of absence in advance. I told you ages ago to give me your class schedule, but you never did.”
“One class…” Zhou Ziheng pondered as he climbed the stairs. Hearing sounds from the bedroom, he pushed open the door to find the projector running, seemingly showing some art documentary.
“Italian? Or Spanish…” Zhou Ziheng murmured to himself, standing at the bedroom doorway and staring at the projector.
“You took an Italian class too?”
“Ah, no,” Zhou Ziheng snapped back to reality. “It’s a general elective. I’ll email the professor to request leave shortly.” The bed was piled high with a tangled heap of blankets, and a glass of clear green liquor sat on the nightstand.
Asleep?
Zhou Ziheng slipped on his headphones and tiptoed onto the bed, rummaging through the tangled mess of blankets to find Xia Xiqing. It felt a bit like searching for a kitten buried in cotton wool.
“Talk more during the recording. We don’t usually put you on these entertainment variety shows—this is your first time. Make the most of it.”
Zhou Ziheng mumbled a response. Pulling back the covers, he saw Xia Xiqing’s sleeping profile. He removed the microphone-equipped earpiece and held it in his hand, leaning in to kiss Xia Xiqing’s ear.
“Mmm…” Xia Xiqing murmured sleepily, about to speak, but Zhou Ziheng covered his mouth.
“Shhh…” Seeing his eyes flutter open, Zhou Ziheng made a silencing gesture. Jiang Yin was still discussing program details on the phone when Zhou Ziheng climbed into bed and embraced Xia Xiqing. The disturbance fully roused Xia Xiqing, who had only dozed off lightly. Frowning slightly, he pointed at Zhou Ziheng’s headset and mouthed the question: Who?
Zhou Ziheng kissed his freshly awakened, rosy lips and mouthed back—Sis-in-law.
Xia Xiqing nodded and began rubbing his eyes. Zhou Ziheng, however, was stubbornly disobedient, insisting on holding and kissing him while making the call. Xia Xiqing couldn’t push him away. Though he usually had a bad case of morning grouchiness, Zhou Ziheng had worn him down to the point of losing his temper.
“Got it. I’ll tell him.” Zhou Ziheng’s gaze settled on Xia Xiqing’s face. “No need for you to contact him. Is everyone from the crew going?” Xia Xiqing carried a scent of alcohol mixed with a rich herbal fragrance, like a subtle hint of bitterness stirred into warm, sweet syrup. It made Zhou Ziheng want nothing more than to kiss the side of his neck.
Xia Xiqing was fully awake now, though the alcohol lingered. Confronted with Zhou Ziheng’s irresponsibly provocative teasing, he chose to protest with action. He reached over and downed the half-empty glass of absinthe sitting on the bedside table in one gulp.
“Oh, that’s fine. Fans only want to see…” Xia Xiqing leaned against the headboard, grabbed Zhou Ziheng by the collar, and pulled him close until their faces were mere inches apart.
Xia Xiqing tilted his head, brushing his nose against Zhou Ziheng’s lip line before raising an eyebrow at him.
The movement was too swift, leaving Zhou Ziheng momentarily stunned as he finished the sentence he’d been midway through.
“I’m with Xia Xiqing…”
A double entendre. Xia Xiqing flashed him a mischievous grin before wrapping both arms around his neck. He pressed his lips to Zhou Ziheng’s, slowly licking, gently nibbling, kissing him shallowly and sensually, yet refusing to go deeper.
That crisp, herbal scent gradually fermented into an intensely suggestive fragrance, enveloping them both. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on Zhou Ziheng’s back. He reached up to cup Xia Xiqing’s face, ready to deepen the kiss, only to be dodged.
The phone call discussed birthday plans, but Zhou Ziheng couldn’t focus on the details. His mind was consumed by the person before him. He made up a flimsy excuse to end the call, tossing the earbuds aside.
Unfettered now, Zhou Ziheng pinned Xia Xiqing against the headboard, his forehead pressed against his, his voice low and husky. “You’re teasing me again.”
Xia Xiqing pushed his hands away, wanting to escape after playing enough. “Who started it? You were on the phone and insisted on waking me up.” Just as he was about to lie back down to continue watching the documentary, Zhou Ziheng suddenly tackled him onto the bed. “I did tease you on purpose.”
“You’re crushing me. How can you be so heavy?” Xia Xiqing frowned. Zhou Ziheng immediately realized his mistake. “Oh crap, I’m still wearing my backpack.” He quickly took it off and tossed it aside, then grinned up at Xia Xiqing from beneath him. Like a large dog, he nuzzled his neck and sniffed. “What kind of liquor did you drink? It smells so… cold and distant?”
Xia Xiqing chuckled softly. “Talking about aloofness at a time like this…” He captured his lips. “…isn’t exactly appropriate, is it?”
The autumn dusk was thick like an oil painting. The orange sunset, preserved like fruit in syrup, exchanged a tender kiss with the approaching edge of night beneath the heavy twilight haze.
The variety show arranged by Jiang Yin differed from Escape from Heaven. It was a long-running, high-rated program that had been on the air for over five years, thus reaching a broad audience. Four members of the Stalking crew attended: Zhou Ziheng, Xia Xiqing, Yang Bo, and Song Nian.
Xia Xiqing was quite surprised to see Song Nian backstage. She hadn’t participated in the promotional materials released by the official account earlier, leading him to assume something had gone wrong. Yet here she was now.
He probably overthought it.
The styling was provided by the production team. To fuel buzz around the Xia-Zi CP pairing, the stylist deliberately dressed Xia Xiqing and Zhou Ziheng in outfits resembling couple’s wear. Xia Xiqing wore a hazy blue knit sweater over dark gray pinstripe suit trousers, his hair combed back to reveal his forehead. Zhou Ziheng wore a white undershirt with gray cigarette pants, topped by a gray-blue trench coat.
After the hosts signaled the start, all four guests took the stage. The studio fans erupted in screams before they could even get a clear look. Xia Xiqing glanced down at the audience—the “ZiXi CP” banners and light boards outnumbered those for either individual star.
The MC held the microphone and smiled, “Let’s give a warmest welcome to the main creators of the drama ‘Tracking’. Come on, starting with Yang Bo, say hello to the audience.”
The positioning of the four was quite subtle. Yang Bo stood on the far left, next to Xia Xiqing. The “Zi-Xi CP” pairing that the audience had anticipated didn’t stand directly together; Song Nian was sandwiched between them. Besides the microphones held by the MCs, only two were available for the guests. After his opening remarks, Yang Bo passed his mic to Xia Xiqing. Before he could speak, deafening screams erupted from the audience.
He smiled and introduced himself briefly into the mic, “Hello everyone, I’m Xia Xiqing.”
Another wave of screams erupted. Xia Xiqing glanced sideways and saw Song Nian holding a microphone, so he didn’t pass his own. When Song Nian introduced herself, the screams noticeably subsided. She finished her introduction with a sweet smile and handed the microphone to Zhou Ziheng, standing farthest to the right.
The moment Zhou Ziheng took the microphone, screams drowned out the studio. He held it up and spoke a few words, only to realize no sound was coming through. Xia Xiqing quickly reacted, leaning forward slightly to offer his own microphone to Zhou Ziheng. But this simple gesture instantly reignited the fans who had just calmed down, triggering waves of screams.
Zhou Ziheng tapped his microphone, and sound returned. “Hello? Can you hear me?”
A girl in the audience shouted so loudly it echoed throughout the entire studio.
“Can’t hear you!! Use Mrs. Zhou’s mic!!!”
Xia Xiqing’s shoulders jerked. The guests on stage couldn’t hold back their laughter, Zhou Ziheng bent over trying to stifle his giggles, and the atmosphere below the stage grew even more electric.
“Hahahaha…”
“Holy crap, sis, you slayed! Self-study girl rocks!”
Another wave of laughter erupted from the audience.
Zhou Ziheng, who was often perceived as lacking variety show flair, joined in the banter, “My mic isn’t working well. Your voice is better than it.”
The microphone gag faded amid the audience’s laughter and teasing, and the show finally got back on track. This variety program primarily featured indoor games, dividing guests into teams for competition. The main MC picked up a lottery box and gave it a shake. “There are four balls in this box—two red and two blue. Let’s draw lots to form our teams!”
Yang Bo, ever impatient, reached in, grabbed a ball, and immediately held it up for all to see, practically wanting to parade it around the entire set.
“Alright, Yang Bo has a red ball,” the main MC said, shaking the box again. “Next, let’s have Zhou Ziheng draw.”
Zhou Ziheng reached in, and the crowd below chanted, “Blue ball! Blue ball! Blue ball!”
When he reached in again, Song Nian held the microphone and chuckled, “I have a feeling he’s really going to pick the blue ball.”
Yang Bo chimed in, mimicking her, “I have a feeling he’s got a soccer ball.”
The crowd erupted in laughter. Zhou Ziheng raised the ball in his hand—indeed, it was blue. The audience immediately burst into screams and cheers. Even the hosts couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s just a blue ball! You’d think Xi Qing had already drawn a blue one too.”
“Hahahaha… We’re almost there!”
“Xi Qing absolutely has to get blue!”
“Xi Qing blue ball! Xi Qing blue ball!”
Song Nian pulled out a ball first. Having appeared on variety shows often, she knew the drill well and immediately hid it behind her back.
“The last one is reserved for our Xi Qing.” The host handed the box to Xia Xiqing. She peered inside briefly, then pulled her sleeve over her hand to conceal it as she retrieved the ball and hid it in her palm. Yang Bo grew impatient. “You two, just take them out already!”
“Alright, the draw is complete,” the host pulled Yang Bo and Zhou Ziheng to opposite sides. “Those with red balls stand next to Yang Bo. Those with blue balls stand next to Ziheng.”
Song Nian glanced at Xia Xiqing, who hadn’t moved. Instead, Xia Xiqing walked straight toward Zhou Ziheng amid a wave of screams. Zhou Ziheng kept his eyes fixed on him, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, his microphone-holding hand resting under his chin. The screams from the audience didn’t stop until Xia Xiqing stood beside Zhou Ziheng.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Xia Xiqing exchanged a brief glance with Zhou Ziheng, thinking everything was settled. But the next second, without a microphone, he grabbed Zhou Ziheng’s wrist and used his hand to speak into the mic. “I just came over to tell you,” he said, looking at Zhou Ziheng and pulling out the red ball in his hand with a smile, “give me a break.”
“Ahhhhhhh!”
“Holy crap, Xia Xiqing is so smooth!”
After that, Xia Xiqing walked away from Zhou Ziheng and over to Yang Bo, bumping shoulders with him.
Song Nian shrugged and walked over to Zhou Ziheng.
“Alright, teams are set. Let’s begin the game.” A staff member brought a large prize wheel from backstage. The host explained, “This wheel features many classic games from our show. We’ll now invite a guest representative to spin it and see which game we land on.”
After a brief discussion, they decided to have male lead Zhou Ziheng spin the wheel. Zhou Ziheng didn’t hesitate, coolly stepping forward to give it a spin. The wheel spun for a long time before finally coming to a slow stop.
“Alright, everyone, the moment we’ve all been waiting for is finally here…” The host pointed at the pointer, watching the spinning wheel gradually come to a stop. “The game is…”
Finally, the pointer settled on an orange slip of paper bearing four characters.
“Pictionary!”
Zhou Ziheng instantly crouched down, burying his face in his hands.
“Hahaha, heaven is on my side!” Yang Bo roared with laughter, giving Xia Xiqing a hearty hug before dragging him around the stage to blow kisses. He even stepped into the host’s role for a quick interview. “Xiqing, as the winner, do you have any victory speech?”
Xia Xiqing replied with deadpan humor, “I’d like to know what the punishment is.”
The fans and audience below the stage doubled over laughing, making Zhou Ziheng look even more pitiful. Even the host couldn’t bear to watch this outcome. “How about giving Ziheng another chance?” he asked the crowd. “What do you think?”
Expecting fans to sympathize with Zhou Ziheng and urge a redo, the host was stunned when most fans instead shouted:
“No way!!”
“This is it!!”
“You win, you take it!”
Holding the microphone, Zhou Ziheng smiled helplessly. “You’re all fake fans.”
The so-called “You Draw, I Guess” game essentially involved one contestant wearing headphones and listening to a song while facing away, while the other sat on a rapidly spinning chair. They had to observe cue cards that might appear at any moment and, within a time limit, draw the content on the cards to convey it to their partner. The more correct guesses the partner made, the higher the chances of winning.
“This might be the least suspenseful game in our show’s history,” one female MC chuckled.
Another MC joined in the laughter, “Who would’ve thought an artist would participate in this kind of charades game?”
“Who would’ve thought Ziheng’s luck would be this terrible?”
“Hahahahaha…”
The game began. Team Blue took the stage first. Zhou Ziheng, convinced he had no artistic talent, walked over to the headphones and turned his back. Song Nian sat in the chair. The moment it started spinning, she began screaming. Yang Bo egged her on from the side, “Don’t just scream—look at the card!”
After a minute of spinning, Song Nian was completely dizzy. She nearly stumbled off the chair, but Xia Xiqing, standing nearby, quickly caught her. Only then did Song Nian make it safely to the drawing board, pick up her pen, and begin sketching.
Three minutes flew by. As soon as the music in Zhou Ziheng’s headphones ended, he turned around.
“Alright! Nian Nian, time’s up.” The host walked to the easel, glanced at the drawing, and doubled over laughing. “Nian Nian, this is… incredibly abstract. Ziheng, brace yourself.”
Zhou Ziheng flashed an OK sign, but the moment the easel swung around, he was utterly baffled. The canvas featured a series of irregular small circles, three wavy lines, and a pointed mouth at the top—utterly indecipherable.
“What is this…” Zhou Ziheng’s face crumpled into a frown. Yang Bo and Xia Xiqing were still messing around beside him.
“You can’t even tell?” Yang Bo laughed, microphone in hand. “Two orioles singing among the willows.”
Xia Xiqing added, “A line of egrets soaring into the blue sky.”
Zhou Ziheng shot them a glare and sighed helplessly.
“Birds?”
MC prompt: “Wrong!”
“Swallows?” Zhou Ziheng tried to decipher the drawing. “A river? A duck on the river? No, this wavy line is too short—it doesn’t look like a river…”
Yang Bo began humming a tune, “A flock of ducks swam by the bridge before my door, come quickly, come quickly, count them—two, four, six, seven, eight~” He passed the microphone to Xia Xiqing, who stifled a laugh and said, “Go for it, duck.”
The audience erupted in laughter.
“Time’s up!”
The host finally couldn’t hold back, snatching the board and flipping it over. “Ziheng, you take a look.”
The hint board displayed four large characters: Hen Laying Egg. Zhou Ziheng nearly fainted upon seeing it. “Goodness, couldn’t you have drawn the egg as an oval? I thought it was a pebble.”
“I’m dizzy as hell, can barely hold the pen,” Song Nian stood up, pouting reproachfully. “Then you draw it later.”
Zhou Ziheng glanced over at Xia Xiqing, who raised an eyebrow at him. “I won’t go easy on you, so give up that hope.”
“Alright, Team Red up next!” The host reset the drawing board. “Just a heads-up—this round’s punishment is brutal.”
The audience erupted in screams: “Go easy! Go easy! Go easy! Go easy…”
Xia Xiqing smiled indulgently. “You guys are so hard to please.” He then walked over to the spinning chair.
“Game on!”
The chair spun at a dizzying speed. Xia Xichong focused his attention on a single point, minimizing dizziness. A prompt board flashed before him, displaying four characters.
Xia Xichong suspected the production team was tailoring the difficulty to his skill level—this was on an entirely different level!
The chair gradually came to a stop. Xia Xiqing steadied himself against the railing before calmly walking over to the drawing board.
“He really didn’t hold back. Look how steady he walks.”
“Like he never spun at all, hahaha.”
“Viewers, let’s see what Ziheng’s expression is like.”
Zhou Ziheng squatted down again, unable to bear watching, and began drawing circles on the floor with his head bowed. Xia Xiqing’s hand trembled slightly from dizziness. He gripped his right wrist with his left hand and sketched rapidly on the drawing board.
“Five—four—three—two—one! Time’s up!”
The host called “Cut!” Xia Xiqing dropped his pen, collapsed into his chair, and burst into laughter. Turning his head, he caught Zhou Ziheng lifting his gaze from where he crouched. Their eyes met.
“Good heavens, Ziheng, you have to admit this time.” The host clutched the drawing board to his chest. “In all my years hosting, I’ve never seen a guest turn this game into such a spectacle in such a short time. No need to guess—even a child could figure it out.”
He flashed the drawing board, and Yang Bo bounced up and down three times with delight.
The audience erupted in screams.
“Oh my goodness, my little artist!”
“That’s absolutely brilliant!”
On the board, Xia Xiqing had sketched a dragon in a quick-sketch style—utterly adorable, except it had no eyes.
Yang Bo cleared his throat and spoke with solemnity. “Even though we’ve reached this point, out of respect for our opponent, we should still go through the motions.” He smiled and revealed the answer alongside the audience.
“The finishing touch!”
Zhou Ziheng snatched the drawing board from the host, feigning such fury he seemed ready to hurl it to the ground. Just as the audience began to cheer, he pulled his hand back, stroked the board, and slipped it into Xia Xiqing’s hands. Turning his back to the camera, he winked his left eye at him.
“I concede.” Zhou Ziheng returned to the Blue Team’s position, wearing a smile that was both indulgent and resigned.
“Who could possibly beat him?”
This remark nearly blew the roof off the studio.
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