At seven that evening, at a restaurant.
Impeccably styled from head to toe, Shang Ge sat in front of a table full of food. Across from him sat Wen Ran—his pink hair completely flattened, his Thai-style freckle makeup scrubbed clean.
Wen Ran wasn’t eating. He was busy with something, head down.
He was borrowing pen and paper from the restaurant and sketching a portrait of the crush he’d seen earlier that day at the auto repair shop.
Shang Ge hadn’t expected that when he met up with Wen Ran, instead of discussing funeral arrangements, they’d end up talking about a “repair-shop encounter.”
Picking up food with his chopsticks, Shang Ge said, “Is he really that handsome? You also said you were Qin Shi Huang, remember?”
“With Qin Shi Huang around, how could there still be hot guys?”
Wen Ran kept drawing, utterly focused.
Shang Ge went on, eating as he talked. “Aren’t you into strong size contrast? How manly could he really be? Probably another gym-built type, right?”
“Aren’t you not into that kind of ‘dead’ muscle?”
Wen Ran didn’t even look up.
Shang Ge continued, “So what does a repair-shop hottie even look like? Like Stallone? Or Bruce Willis?”
Wen Ran kept drawing.
Seeing he wasn’t getting a response, Shang Ge changed the subject. “So for my funeral, which kind of wedding dress do you think works best?”
“I looked online this afternoon—there are actually a lot of styles…”
And so Shang Ge talked about his own thing while Wen Ran focused on his drawing. Shang Ge kept eating bite after bite, while Wen Ran never touched his chopsticks.
Finally, Wen Ran finished. He tossed the pen aside.
Suddenly Shang Ge said, “Wait—that’s not right. Didn’t you take photos? Why not just show me the photos?”
Wen Ran lifted the paper and flipped it around.
Shang Ge looked over, focused—and froze.
On the paper, with simple but precise lines, was a man’s face: strong features, deep-set eyes, undeniably handsome. Very manly.
Only then did Wen Ran pull out his phone and hand over the photos he’d secretly taken earlier.
Shang Ge took the sketch in one hand and the phone in the other, comparing them back and forth, then sucked in a sharp breath. “This is insanely accurate!”
“…?”
Wen Ran was speechless. “Who asked you to critique my drawing skills?”
Shang Ge studied it carefully, nodded, and said sincerely, “He really is manly.”
“Right?”
Wen Ran was delighted.
“So—you’re planning to chase him?”
As his close friend, Shang Ge knew Wen Ran too well.
Sure enough, Wen Ran asked, “Do you think we look good together?”
Shang Ge countered, “Do you believe you’re a perfect match, or do you believe I’m Qin Shi Huang?”
“Well, you’re definitely not Qin Shi Huang.”
Wen Ran grinned. “Right? I think we’re a great match too.”
Shang Ge handed back the sketch and the phone. “So? Did you get his WeChat today?”
Wen Ran took them back and finally started eating. “Tomorrow.”
“So you didn’t get it today.”
Shang Ge understood immediately.
“Don’t bring it up,” Wen Ran said. “My image today was terrible.”
“Tomorrow I’ll dress properly and make a dazzling entrance.”
Shang Ge rolled his eyes. “You? Bad image?”
Then he asked, “Is he straight?”
Wen Ran didn’t care. “Why should I care if he’s straight or gay?”
“Fair enough,” Shang Ge nodded approvingly. “With the way you move, even rebar would bend.”
…
That night, back at his place, lying in bed, Wen Ran held his phone and stared at the photos he’d taken that afternoon.
The more he looked, the more his heart fluttered. The more he liked him.
How could someone be this manly?
It hit his taste exactly, perfectly.
He liked him. He loved him.
Wen Ran finally, truly understood what “love at first sight” meant.
The next morning, Wen Ran woke up early. He didn’t do anything else—just rummaged through his walk-in closet, pulling out clothes that were good-looking but not “abstract.”
He skipped breakfast. At ten, he was already sitting in the hair salon he frequented, right after it opened.
His stylist was shocked, standing behind him and running fingers through his pink-and-gold hair. “You just bleached and dyed it last week. You already don’t like it?”
Wen Ran looked at himself in the mirror. “Mainly because my husband might not like it.”
“…?”
The stylist was confused. “What husband? Didn’t you say you were single last time you came?”
He shook out the cape and draped it over Wen Ran.
Wen Ran lifted his chin to cooperate. “Decided to get out of being single yesterday.”
The stylist didn’t question the word “decided,” only curious. “Where’s your husband from? Introduced by friends?”
“Met him at a repair shop.”
An hour and a half later, Wen Ran had his black hair back.
He looked at the reflection—jet black from crown to tips—and felt very satisfied.
Instead of going home, Wen Ran drove the BMW from the day before back to his mom’s place.
In the underground garage, he scanned a row of parked cars.
Which one hadn’t been serviced recently?
There were six cars in that row, including the BMW. After looking them over, Wen Ran chose the oldest one—the Mini.
He went upstairs, entered the apartment, stood in the entryway, opened the shoe cabinet drawer, and rummaged for the Mini’s keys.
Mrs. Wen Pingping was lying on the couch with a face mask on. Hearing movement, she got up and walked over, mask still stuck to her face, staring at Wen Ran in confusion and making muffled sounds.
“Mom, where are the Mini’s keys?” Wen Ran asked while digging through the drawer.
His mom made more muffled noises.
She peeled the mask halfway up and said, “Why are you looking for the Mini’s keys? You want to drive it? Didn’t you always say the steering wheel was too heavy and you hated driving it?”
“I like it now.”
Wen Ran found the keys, turned, and headed out.
Once seated in the Mini, hands on the steering wheel, he confirmed it—he still didn’t like it. Couldn’t like it.
What was with this steering wheel and these pedals? Why were they so stiff? Was this car designed for normal people? Or for a 300-kilogram bodybuilder? Exhausting.
But when Wen Ran drove up to “Bumblebee Auto Care” and caught sight—through the glass—of that manly-as-hell figure inside the shop, he patted the steering wheel.
“Be good, baby,” he murmured. “Whether your big brother gets to be happy in the future depends on you.”
He parked, got out of the car, and the same young guy from yesterday came over to greet him.
“What’s up? Repairs or maintenance?”
The man clearly had no idea that this black-haired, clean-looking guy was the pink-haired, lip-pierced one from yesterday.
“Maintenance,” Wen Ran said.
Then he added, “Help me take a look too. See if anything’s not working right.”
“If something’s off, fix it or replace it.”
“Scratches, chipped paint—touch everything up.”
“I’m not in a rush. Take your time.”
“Alright.” The man turned toward the car, preparing to circle it for an inspection.
Wen Ran suddenly called out, “Hey—handsome!”
“…?”
Wen Ran pointed into the shop. “Call him over. Have him look at it with you.”
The man followed his finger, spotted Luo Xiao, and called out, “Brother Xiao, come take a look.”
Xiao?
Wen Ran’s ears practically perked up.
Which xiao?
Then he watched as the man called “Brother Xiao” walked toward him. Wen Ran’s heart immediately started pounding again.
He’s coming. He’s coming.
Holy shit. So manly. So hot.
Wen Ran was drooling internally.
The two men exchanged a few words, then bent down together and walked around the old Mini, carefully checking the body for scratches.
“Here.”
“Over here too.”
They pointed out several spots.
“Oh, okay, okay.”
Wen Ran followed along, pretending to look seriously, while sneaking glances at his crush.
Today, his crush wasn’t wearing a tank top—just a regular short-sleeved work shirt. His full chest and muscular shoulders were mostly hidden, but the overwhelming manly aura still couldn’t be concealed.
Wen Ran’s internal saliva was basically flooding the place.
The man popped the hood and looked inside. “We should replace the cabin air filter too.”
“Sure.”
Standing close by, Wen Ran could clearly see the man’s features now. He also subconsciously compared their heights—his crush was at least half a head taller than him, with an obvious difference in build.
If this man hugged him, he could probably wrap him up completely in his arms…
Heh heh.
“The battery should be replaced too.”
Wen Ran officially entered dismantle-the-car mode.
“And the spark plugs, brake pads…”
“Just check everything. This car’s old—anything that can be replaced, replace it.”
He even said, “Can the engine be replaced? If it can, swap that out too.”
Luo Xiao: “……”
The man chuckled. “Let’s skip the engine. Even if you’ve got the money, we don’t have the ability to magically get you a brand-new engine.”
He closed the hood. “Go wait in the office. There’s a lot to change—we’ll call you when it’s done.”
“Oh, right,” Wen Ran asked casually. “What’s your name?”
Huh?
Luo Xiao looked at the black-haired young man standing beside him, clearly much smaller in frame.
The guy was staring up at him with bright, sparkling eyes, like a little deer. Luo Xiao didn’t think much of it.
“Luo Xiao.”
He got into the car and drove it into the workshop.
Wen Ran hurriedly asked, “Which luo and which xiao?”
Already bent down in the compact Mini, Luo Xiao replied, “Luo as in camel. Xiao as in desolate.”
Luo Xiao.
Wen Ran was thrilled. He finally knew his crush’s name.
As the Mini rolled inside, Wen Ran followed along.
Once the car was parked, Luo Xiao got out and started operating the lift.
Wen Ran stood nearby, like any overly attentive car owner, and struck up conversation as casually as possible.
“So what are you doing first?”
“Changing the oil.”
Luo Xiao raised the Mini with the lift.
Wen Ran glanced up at the elevated car, then asked offhandedly, “What brand of oil are you using?”
Luo Xiao answered—and Wen Ran felt like he’d been struck by lightning on the spot.
“Shell,” Luo Xiao said. “Same brand as the BMW you brought in yesterday.”
Wen Ran: “…………………”
He came yesterday?
No way, right?
He wanted to say that.
Wait—how did Luo Xiao recognize him?
Which version of him did he recognize?
The one with the mask on?
Was it still that pink hair, the ears full of piercings?
At this moment, Luo Xiao was reaching out to loosen the oil drain bolt under the chassis.
Seeing the young man standing there in silence, frozen in place with a blank stare, Luo Xiao casually added, “Yesterday you said you wanted to add me on WeChat to make an appointment. I thought you were booking for your BMW. Didn’t expect you to show up today.”
Then, in a perfectly routine, businesslike tone, he said, “You’re replacing quite a lot today. I’ll give you a discount later.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Wen Ran forced a dry smile, doing his best to keep his expression under control.
A moment passed—and then Wen Ran couldn’t hold back anymore. He pulled out his phone, looking completely natural.
“Hey, handsome, let’s add WeChat.”
“I’ve got other cars too. They all need maintenance.”
“If anything comes up later, it’ll be easier to ask.”
“Sure.”
This time, Luo Xiao didn’t refuse. He took off his gloves and pulled out his phone.
“I’ll scan you.”
Wen Ran’s heart started pounding wildly. On the surface, he stayed calm as he walked over.
Scan. Added.
Inside Wen Ran’s head: YES! YES!
Decision made. The kid’s last name will be Xiao.
Xiao Ai-Ran!