Qin Sizheng had just woken, still unaware of which day in the timeline the author had pulled him back to, and why the author hadn’t deleted their memories of this part.
Through subtle inquiries to Anning, he gathered that neither of them had memories of his previous disappearance. Lu Xianqing’s forearm bore no knife scars, but somehow the tattoo remained.
The conflicting signs made Qin Sizheng hesitant to draw conclusions.
He wanted to ask further but feared raising Anning’s suspicions. After careful thought, he decided to discuss it with Lu Xianqing. Not finding him in the study, he went to his room.
Pushing the door open, he froze. The previously dark room was now bright and clear. The machine and projection screen were gone, replaced by a white porcelain vase holding a bundle of eucalyptus leaves.
A flicker of thought reminded him of a charity event, when someone had given him eucalyptus, and the host had explained its flower language.
A gift from heaven.
Qin Sizheng daringly guessed that the bouquet had come via He Xing—she generally didn’t accept fans’ gifts. Could it have been from Lu Xianqing?
Even in their cold war, he had called himself Qin Sizheng’s blessing.
Lu Xianqing was a fool.
Qin Sizheng pressed his lips into a smile. On the surface, Lu Xianqing seemed to be in control, but in truth, the decision was his.
“Thump, thump, thump.”
With acute hearing, Qin Sizheng faintly heard movement below and followed it to discover a basement entrance.
For the past few days, Lu Xianqing had stayed with him in the guest room, waking early and sleeping late. Previously, he had always tried to seize little advantages, but on the day Qin Sizheng woke, he had only kissed him, restraining himself like a disciplined scholar.
Even lying on the same bed, he had just held him, teasing gently with words, never touching him.
Qin Sizheng was slightly puzzled but didn’t ask.
Now, seeing the basement, he wondered if Lu Xianqing’s mental state was unstable again.
He froze. He remembered a cage here—the very cage he had once intended to imprison Lu Xianqing in, only to end up inside twice himself. Hesitant, he stopped.
“Who’s there?” Lu Xianqing’s voice was muffled.
“It’s me,” Qin Sizheng replied softly.
“Come down.”
Descending slowly, Qin Sizheng froze at the scene: no cage, but punching bags, gloves, reaction targets, and various fitness equipment—a miniature boxing gym!
Lu Xianqing’s homewear sleeves were rolled to his forearms, a small hammer in hand as he crouched, smashing something. Behind him, a massive screen glowed.
Qin Sizheng looked around. A full sofa set formed a semicircle, the floor covered in a plush lavender carpet. In the center sat a maple-colored low table, with several lavender cushions printed with a little kite wrapped in guitar strings—his fan color and fan symbol.
Lu Xianqing dropped the hammer, casually wiping his hands on his apron, completely abandoning even the slightest hint of his usual fastidiousness. He picked up the remote, and instantly the screen displayed an exhilarating boxing match, the surround sound broadcasting every breath and grunt of the fighters with vivid clarity.
Qin Sizheng’s eyes welled up.
“Like it?” Lu Xianqing set down the remote, draping a hand over his shoulder. “I looked up some info and bought this on a whim. If it doesn’t suit you, we can swap it out.”
He picked up a brand-new pair of gloves, removed the packaging, and slipped them onto Qin Sizheng’s hands, planting a kiss on the top. “My little champion.”
Qin Sizheng’s throat tightened. So this is what he had been busy with all these days—no wonder his hands bore fresh marks, and every detail in the room brought a lump to his throat.
“When did you start all this?”
For the first time, Lu Xianqing looked a little nervous, answering after a long pause: “The day before you came back. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable seeing it, so I had Anning discard the rest. Those things in the room were burned long ago.”
Qin Sizheng added, “The eucalyptus leaves.”
“Anning put them there—said it could purify the air, help respiratory and immune health, and even aid sleep. Just a casual gesture—I’m not really fond of them.”
Lu Xianqing studied his expression. Last time, he’d had He Xing wrap eucalyptus for him, which Qin Sizheng had tossed—he clearly didn’t like those leaves.
Qin Sizheng snickered, and Lu Xianqing hissed, “You’re teasing me, huh?”
“No.”
Lu Xianqing grabbed his hand and pressed him against the wall. “Where’s the ‘no’? Why are you smiling?”
Qin Sizheng looped his arm around Lu Xianqing’s neck, tilting his head. “Ah, last time at the charity event, someone gave me a bunch of eucalyptus, saying I was their blessing. I don’t know who it was… I really wanted to kiss them.”
Seeing the knowingly innocent expression, Lu Xianqing suppressed a laugh.
Qin Sizheng added, “Too afraid to say it directly… so timid.”
Tsk. This was getting worse—he was mocking by innuendo.
Lu Xianqing pinched his waist fiercely. “That was me!”
“Can’t be!” Qin Sizheng stifled a laugh, teasing, “Our Fourth Brother doesn’t even like eucalyptus. How could you send me something you don’t like? You’re lying just to get a kiss, aren’t you?”
Lu Xianqing had played enough; now he used a half-smile to call him by full name. “Qin Sizheng.”
“What?”
“Consider the kiss thing never happened. Otherwise…” he trailed off, leaving the rest for Qin Sizheng to infer, waiting calmly for him to submit.
“Alright then… I’ll only…” Qin Sizheng hesitated for a long moment, then, when Lu Xianqing wasn’t expecting it, slipped out from under his arm, kicked off his slippers, and nestled by the sofa to watch the match.
“…Gone!”
Lu Xianqing wasn’t really forcing the issue. Smiling helplessly, he squatted down, removed Qin Sizheng’s gloves, tossed them aside, and retrieved a small plate of cut fruit from the mini-fridge, placing it on the low table in front of him.
“Hurry, Fourth Brother! Sit down! This match is amazing! My idol’s god-tier fight—I didn’t even see it while filming! Ah, I love him!” Qin Sizheng narrated excitedly, mimicking punches in sync with the action.
Lu Xianqing held his hand down, tucking a cushion into his lap. “Be good. There’s no opponent here to fight you.”
Qin Sizheng leaned through the cushion toward Lu Xianqing. “Afraid I’ll hit you?”
Suddenly silent, Lu Xianqing’s mood shifted. Qin Sizheng understood instantly—he was still sensitive about past hits received during fights. His avoidance wasn’t annoyance, but concern.
“Fourth Brother, are you okay mentally? Can you control yourself? If I say no, would you force me or do something behind my back?”
Lu Xianqing patted his head. “Sorry.”
“I’m not asking for apologies—answer me.”
Without hesitation, Lu Xianqing shook his head negatively.
Qin Sizheng covered his hand with his own, looking into his eyes slowly and deliberately. “I’ve healed you, right?”
After a long pause—Qin Sizheng had returned to the match—Lu Xianqing softly murmured, “Mm.”
You’ve healed me.
Focused on the match, Qin Sizheng barely noticed Lu Xianqing, who only cast a quick glance before never leaving his side again.
When he first realized he was just a fictional character, a minor setting under someone else’s control, he had felt resistance. But now, seeing Qin Sizheng’s almost innocent sincerity, all shadows lifted.
He reached out, placing a hand on Qin Sizheng’s head. “Little one.”
“Speak.”
“Look at me… I have something important to tell you.”
Qin Sizheng kept his eyes glued to the two bruised fighters on screen, one with swollen brow and reddened nose and eye corners, breathing sharply. “Almost… almost done!”
“Qin Sizheng, I’m about to get jealous,” Lu Xianqing said.
Seeing the critical moment, Qin Sizheng grabbed a piece of fruit and shoved it into his mouth. “Save it for later—the match is almost over.”
Lu Xianqing didn’t understand boxing, didn’t see the appeal of the match, but the other man stealing the attention that should belong to him stung. He scooped Qin Sizheng into his lap, attempting a kiss.
Qin Sizheng, eyes glued to the screen like the separated lovers of legend, silently resisted, which frustrated Lu Xianqing enough to let him drop onto the thick carpet.
In the end, Qin Sizheng didn’t get upset at all. He got up, patted his cushion, and continued watching.
Lu Xianqing ground his teeth in frustration, stood up, and strode out. He shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble setting up this place, kicking over tables and chairs along the way. At the doorway, though, he couldn’t resist glancing back.
There sat the boy, legs crossed on the plush carpet, clutching a lavender cushion. He held a small plate on his lap, popped a strawberry into his mouth, his cheeks puffed like a hamster’s.
“Idiot,” Lu Xianqing muttered—half scolding, half to himself—then returned to sit beside him, grabbing some tissues to wipe his hands.
“Eat less, it’s cold.”
“Mm,” Qin Sizheng replied without looking up, handing him the plate while offering the other hand to have cleaned. Lu Xianqing dutifully wiped it, and the match finally came to an end.
“Won! My idol is amazing!” Qin Sizheng exclaimed, reaching out and nearly punching Lu Xianqing by accident, only then realizing what he’d just done.
“Uh… Fourth Brother, I should explain.”
“Explain what? Ignoring me’s enough, right?” Lu Xianqing shot back coolly, picking up the little kite from the cushion with a sly smile.
Qin Sizheng dodged, remembering Lu Xianqing had mentioned “something important.” He hurriedly asked, “What’s the important thing? I’m ready—go ahead.”
Lu Xianqing, exasperated by him, ruffled his hair hard before saying, “I heard you probing Anning and Shen Changfeng, but you didn’t dare ask directly. Why didn’t you come ask me?”
Qin Sizheng nodded. “I didn’t want them suspicious or things hard to explain, so I didn’t ask much. I wanted to ask you, but couldn’t find you.”
“We’re alike,” Lu Xianqing said with a faint smile. “But I helped you check. You started forgetting things before leaving, and the period after you came back was fixed, so that variety show no longer exists. Nothing else changed, so don’t worry.”
Qin Sizheng looked puzzled. “You asked Changfeng and Anning? How?”
Lu Xianqing shook his head. “I told them I wasn’t taking any work this year after filming, planning to spend a year traveling with you. After He Xing scolded them, they understood.”
“…That works?” Qin Sizheng asked.
Lu Xianqing grinned. “When I step in, what can’t I do?”
Qin Sizheng nodded, then noticed the fresh mark on his hand. “This wasn’t from the variety show?”
“Oh,” Lu Xianqing replied, “No, it was from cutting the cage that day. Not serious. Anyway, enough small talk—here’s the important thing: my grandfather’s birthday banquet is in a few days. Will you go?”
Qin Sizheng hesitated. Meeting his parents had always been under awkward circumstances, with a less-than-perfect impression. Would this banquet go smoothly?
Sensing his worry, Lu Xianqing softened. “If you don’t want to go, that’s fine. Just say you’re busy. Grandpa’s easygoing—go when you’re ready.”
After some thought, Qin Sizheng took his hand. “I’ll go with you.”