Upon hearing this, Pei Tingsong froze for a moment. By the time he snapped back to reality, Fang Juexia had already joined the others, leaving him behind.
What did that mean?
He felt like he’d been hit by a sugar rush, but before he could unwrap it and savor the taste, the candy vanished.
Rushing to catch up, Pei Tingsong kept asking Fang Juexia what he meant. But Fang Juexia seemed to be doing it on purpose—he only smiled, saying nothing.
Even after they returned to the hotel, Pei Tingsong wouldn’t let it go. One WeChat message after another flooded in, making Fang Juexia’s phone ring incessantly like a broken alarm clock.
Under the relentless bombardment, Fang Juexia finally surrendered and sent him a message.
[Moonlight: It means I like you.]
He said it again.
The reply came almost instantly.
[Hengzhen Style: Really?! [Covering Heart·jpg]]
[Heng Zhen Style: [Sending hearts·jpg][Sending hearts·jpg][Sending hearts·jpg]]
[Heng Zhen Style: So what did that ‘b’ sound mean at the start?]
[Heng Zhen Style: Please, bro, just tell me already]
Seeing him like this, Fang Juexia felt like laughing. The word “bb” carried such a high level of intimacy in Cantonese that he didn’t want to explain it casually. So he found a popular video online of a Cantonese girl cooing at her two-year-old little brother and forwarded it to Pei Tingsong.
After sending the video, Fang Juexia flopped onto the bed. Suddenly, he recalled a famous line from a poet Pei Tingsong had mentioned before—passion and happiness have made me lose my focus. He deeply understood the truth of those words. It wasn’t just losing focus; he felt like a completely different person.
The old him was emotionally parched like dehydrated vegetables. Even immersed in an environment brimming with friendship and affection, he couldn’t become vibrant and alive. He was merely damp, bloated, lifeless instant vegetables.
But Pei Tingsong had completely revived him. He made him willing to express himself, to express his love for someone.
In love, nothing was too embarrassing to say.
His phone buzzed again.
[Heng Zhen Style: Does “bb” mean baby?!]
[Heng Zhen Style: Baby? Babe??]
Seeing his question marks, Fang Juexia could almost picture Pei Tingsong’s expression. So he poured fuel on the fire and replied.
[Moonlight: You could interpret it that way.]
Then, surprisingly, there was no response. Fang Juexia didn’t think much of it at first, but while showering, the thought suddenly struck him: Would a guy feel defeated being called “bb”? Was he treating him too much like a child?
By the time he stepped out, his phone buzzed again.
[Hengzhen Style: Since you’re calling me baby now, big bro’s gotta spoil me more from now on.]
“Shame on you,” Fang Juexia muttered softly to the screen.
He’d only taken advantage once, yet Pei Tingsong had already reclaimed it.
Staring at those words, especially the latter half, Fang Juexia’s heartbeat quickened again. Pei Tingsong’s words were best not taken too literally—they were more than just suggestive, bordering on outright innuendo.
A tingling sensation spread through his chest, like tender shoots breaking through the soil.
Spring stirred restlessness.
Rain fell the day they flew back to Beijing. A damp Beijing was a rare sight; spring was nearly over before the rain finally came. Driving from the airport back to the Third Ring Road, they were again pursued by paparazzi. Heavy traffic and rain made the large van carrying eight people inherently dangerous. The paparazzi had even bribed scalpers to drive cars behind them, nearly colliding several times.
Finally, Cheng Qiang couldn’t take it anymore. After entering the city, he found a suitable spot and had the driver pull over. The stalker fans behind them also stopped their car.
He knew these fans weren’t easy to deal with—some were highly emotional, and any misstep could lead to distorted accounts being spread online. So he simply stood by the roadside, trying to reason with them.
“You’re all still so young, just girls. Don’t do dangerous things like this. You dared follow them on the airport expressway—aren’t you afraid of accidents?”
But the fans inside the car paid no heed to his words. “We just want to see them!”
“You’ve already seen them! They didn’t use the VIP exit. Didn’t you see them when they arrived at the airport? Let’s not even talk about the rest—chasing cars is extremely dangerous. We have a whole car full of people, and so do you. It’s raining too. Do you really want a traffic accident to happen?”
After speaking, Cheng Qiang stood up and tapped on the driver’s side window. “Could you please roll down the window?”
The scalpers inside remained motionless.
Cheng Qiang lowered his head to record information on his phone. “I’ve noted your license plate number. If you continue tailgating, we’ll have no choice but to call the police.”
Even after this warning, the moment Cheng Qiang turned away, he heard several girls in the car behind cursing loudly and viciously. He ignored them, returning to the passenger seat to instruct the driver to proceed.
Ling Yi glanced in the rearview mirror. The car was still parked in the same spot, growing farther and farther behind them. He felt a slight sense of relief, but then another thought crossed his mind. He couldn’t help but say, “Did you guys know? Recently, the third member of the Seven Stars discovered a tracking device planted on him.”
“Holy crap, really?” Lu Yuan felt a chill run down his spine.
Fang Juexia couldn’t help asking, “Where’s it hidden?” He considered what someone could carry on them. A phone seemed unlikely. “Could it be a watch?”
“You guessed right,” Ling Yi sighed. “It was a fan gift he received for his birthday. Inside was a luxury watch—one that had actually been modified.”
Cheng Qiang shook his head. “We can’t accept gifts anymore. No more fan gifts from the fan club. The company has discussed this several times these past few days. More and more people are staking out and chasing after the cars. If this keeps up, it’ll be impossible to control.”
“Sigh, what kind of mess is this?”
“That’s what happens when you become famous. There’s no way around it.”
Upon returning, the members immediately dove into their respective work. Fang Juexia and Pei Tingsong signed brand contracts, finalized schedules for commercials, then headed to film Escape from Heaven.
Excluding overlapping schedules, Kaleido’s promotional run lasted only two weeks. While music shows boost song popularity, they take a massive toll on artists’ energy. Waking up at 3 or 4 a.m. daily, lining up for makeup and styling, rushing to recording studios, waiting for shoots—the entire process consumed half the day. Add other commitments, and there was barely any time left for sleep.
Star Map isn’t a company that exploits its artists, so they didn’t extend the promotional period just because “Breakthrough” was trending. As CEO Chen Zhengyun said, every stage performance was brilliant enough—the number of appearances wasn’t that important.
Ending the promotional period was a huge relief for the six members of Kaleido. Their joy was evident during the final performance, even prompting fans in the audience to tease them: “You’re no good at anything, but you’re number one at clocking out.” Even better than wrapping up promotions was their unprecedented nine consecutive wins on MLH after “Breakthrough” claimed its first No. 1 spot. They shattered their own records—especially considering they achieved this after clashing with Seven Stars.
In this competition that was unfair from the start, Kaleido turned the tables with sheer talent, delivering a resounding slap to the mocking haters. The new album’s massive success not only transformed Kaleido from a minor group into a renowned boy band but also doubled the viewership of their group variety show. Each episode’s clicks kept climbing—the numbers speak for themselves.
Looks are just the door opener; true talent is what makes fans stick around.
On the day of Pei Tingsong’s follow-up appointment, Cheng Qiang arrived at the dorm early and bumped into Fang Juexia in the elevator after his morning run.
“No schedule today. What are you up to?”
Hearing Cheng Qiang’s question, Fang Juexia didn’t hesitate. “Heading to the company to practice. Haven’t danced in ages. Might squeeze in a vocal lesson too.”
“You’re too hard on yourself. Young man, you need to relax occasionally. Being an artist is so stressful—make time to hang out with friends, sing karaoke, go shopping. “ Cheng Qiang offered this advice, though he knew Fang Juexia wasn’t the type to blend into group activities. ”If that doesn’t work, just sleep at home, watch a movie. Don’t be so tense—it’s exhausting.”
Fang Juexia smiled. “It’s fine, Brother Qiang. I’ll practice for a bit then come back to rest.”
Cheng Qiang nodded. He couldn’t tell if it was his imagination, but Fang Juexia’s facial expressions seemed more animated lately. “Alright. Oh, right—is Xiao Pei still asleep?”
Fang Juexia shook his head. “Nope. He stayed up really late last night.”
At first, Cheng Qiang didn’t think much of it, but upon reflection, it struck him as odd. Wait, they weren’t even roommates.
“How do you know he stayed up late?”
Fang Juexia was caught off guard. He certainly couldn’t say Pei Tingsong had been texting him until 1 AM last night.
The elevator doors opened, and Fang Juexia made up an excuse. “I guessed. He said he was staying up late studying for midterms.”
Cheng Qiang finally murmured, “You know, despite Xiao Pei having a bad temper, a weird personality, tons of little quirks, always putting on airs, and never doing anything day in and day out, he’s actually pretty dedicated when it comes to studying.”
Fang Juexia thought to himself, “That ‘though’ is followed by way too much.”
Sure enough, when Cheng Qiang barged in, Pei Tingsong was still fast asleep, head buried under the covers. Fang Juexia made an excuse. “I guessed. He said he was staying up late studying for midterms.”
Cheng Qiang didn
Fang Juexia thought to himself, That “even though” sure came with a lot of qualifiers.
Sure enough, when Cheng Qiang barged in, Pei Tingsong was still sound asleep with his head buried under the covers. Fang Juexia made them each a cup of coffee, set them on the table, and listened to Cheng Qiang urging Pei Tingsong to get up from inside the room.
Pei Tingsong emerged with a look of resentment. After washing up, he sat down at the table like a zombie, ready to down the coffee Fang Juexia had poured for him. But Fang Juexia, standing beside the table, nudged his chair and gestured with his eyes for him to eat the bread first.
“Hurry up and eat. We’re heading to the hospital after this. We have an appointment with the doctor. If we’re late, they’ll say you’re acting like a diva.”
Pei Tingsong chewed his bread. “Let them say it. Once my cast comes off, I won’t just be acting like a diva—I’ll be wielding a big knife.”
Fang Juexia laughed out loud.
Just as Cheng Qiang finished packing and was about to leave, his phone rang. After listening for a while, he said, “Okay, fine. I’ll see if I can make it over.”
Seeing his grave expression, Fang Juexia asked what was wrong. Only then did Cheng Qiang explain, “Jiang Miao passed the audition. Now the producer wants to meet with him to discuss things.”
Pei Tingsong slammed the table. “He passed? Fantastic! He absolutely needs an agent now! My Miao Ge can’t get screwed over. Qiang, you go!” He then wrapped his arms around Fang Juexia’s waist. “Juexia Ge, come with me to my follow-up appointment.”
“Huh?” Fang Juexia tried to push him away but couldn’t budge him. Glancing up, he caught Cheng Qiang’s pleading eyes. “Juexia, are you okay? I’ll call Xiao Wen to drive you both there. Let him handle the errands.”
“…Fine.”
He actually wanted to go, though he had to put on a reluctant expression now.
Pei Tingsong had been stubbornly uncooperative moments ago, but his mood shifted completely when someone else offered to help. He beamed as he saw off the hurried Cheng Qiang. Fang Juexia changed into fresh clothes and helped Pei Tingsong zip up his coat. “Hope the bones inside have healed properly.”
But Pei Tingsong suddenly snapped, “Why? What are you up to?”
“I have no ulterior motives toward children.” Fang Juexia zipped up the coat and tapped his forehead.
Even with Xiao Wen acting as a third wheel, Pei Tingsong was still in high spirits. They went to the hospital for an X-ray and met with his previous attending physician, who conducted a thorough examination.
“The bones are healing nicely,” the doctor said, adjusting his glasses. “After the cast comes off, you might experience some mild soreness—that’s perfectly normal. Being immobilized for so long can cause symptoms similar to soft tissue contracture. You’ll need to be careful afterward: avoid overuse and lifting heavy objects.”
Fang Juexia still couldn’t shake his unease, asking countless questions and committing every precaution to memory. By the time they left the hospital, Xiao Wen couldn’t help but praise his, “Juexia, you’re so thorough! There’s nothing left for me to do—you’ve asked everything so clearly.”
“Of course.” Pei Tingsong wrapped his newly freed left arm around Fang Juexia’s shoulder. “You care so much about me.”
“Be careful.”
Xiao Wen took the driver’s seat. “Back to the dorm?”
Pei Tingsong immediately replied, “No, let’s go to campus first. I need to pick up some form for stamping—it requires my personal signature.”
“Alright.”
Driving to campus, they hit traffic for half an hour. Pei Tingsong, sleep-deprived, leaned against Fang Juexia’s shoulder and drifted off. Fang Juexia noticed Xiao Wen staring intently at the rearview mirror, which made him suspicious—after all, similar incidents had been happening far too often lately.
“Xiao Wen, what are you looking at?”
Xiao Wen frowned. “I don’t know if I’m just being paranoid, but I keep feeling like a car is following us.” Yet he found it odd. “It shouldn’t be possible, though. How would they even know about Xiao Pei’s follow-up appointment? And we came so early this morning—how did they find out?”
The honking outside nearly woke Pei Tingsong, who rubbed against Fang Juexia’s shoulder. While Xiao Wen was distracted by the rearview mirror, Fang Juexia gently squeezed his fingertips in a soothing gesture.
He was puzzled too. Could it be that the stalker was still lurking outside their dorm?
Traffic finally started moving. Xiao Wen drove onward. After passing an intersection, the suspicious vehicle behind them remained. “They’re definitely following us.”
“It could be paparazzi staking out the dorm. I heard Ling Yi mention some paparazzi can camp outside the complex all night. Others even install cameras at dorm entrances.”
“That’s terrifying,” Xiao Wen said, goosebumps rising on her skin. “When we get back, I’ll tell Brother Qiang to check the elevators outside the dorms and such. Even though they’re private elevators and the complex security is tight, it’s not completely airtight. You never know if some creep could sneak in and do something bad.”
The car finally pulled up at the school entrance. Fang Juexia woke Pei Tingsong, handing him his hat and mask. Just as he was ready to get out, a group of suspicious stalkers swarmed around him, repeatedly shouting “Pei Tingsong!” as if desperate for everyone nearby to recognize him.
Pei Tingsong frowned, too lazy to acknowledge them. He grabbed his bag from the car and started walking. Fang Juexia felt uneasy and peered out the window.
“These people are so annoying. Don’t they have anything better to do with their lives?” Xiao Wen complained. “I did suggest bringing bodyguards, but it seemed a bit over the top. I should’ve called a few people after all.”
“Bringing bodyguards to campus would get us in trouble,” Fang Juexia said, growing irritated as the crowd closed in. “They probably can’t get in anyway.”
“Not sure. Based on past incidents, they can get in. They somehow got their hands on some kind of pass and have snuck in several times already. Even Xiao Pei’s classmates have been harassed.”
Watching Pei Tingsong alone surrounded by them, Fang Juexia felt a pang of worry. Pei Tingsong had a fiery temper and found it hard to hold back. Fang Juexia couldn’t leave him alone.
He glanced at Xiao Wen, and that fleeting thought vanished. Even Qiang Ge couldn’t control Pei Tingsong—let alone Xiao Wen.
Without further thought, Fang Juexia opened the car door, pulled on his baseball cap, and stepped out.
“Hey! Juexia, you—”
“Wait for me in the car.”
Through the windshield, Xiao Wen stared in surprise at Fang Juexia’s retreating figure. He’d always avoided paparazzi whenever possible before—why was he being so bold now?
Pei Tingsong was nearly driven to cursing by this swarm of paparazzi. He hadn’t expected someone to grab his arm. Just as he turned to yell at them, he saw Fang Juexia’s face.
“I’m coming with you.”
Fang Juexia remained silent, his gaze icy cold. Pei Tingsong, furious, wanted to retort, but Fang Juexia silenced him.
“Don’t say anything.”
He pulled Pei Tingsong swiftly toward the school entrance. After presenting his ID to the security guard, Pei Tingsong addressed the guard directly, “Please detain the people behind us. They’re not students—they’re stalkers following me. You can check their credentials.”
The trailing paparazzi were promptly detained by security outside the gates, where they unleashed a torrent of profanity without a shred of restraint.
Pei Tingsong pulled Fang Juexia deeper into the campus while raising his right hand high, flipping the middle finger at the crazed mob behind them.
Fang Juexia pulled his hand down. “I just came along because I was worried you’d get too worked up facing them alone.”
Pei Tingsong kept his head down, unlocked his phone, and opened Weibo. He typed out a post while speaking, didn’t even proofread it, and hit send.
[@KaleidoPeiTingsong: Today’s Pei Tingsong is also cursing at stalkers. [Flipping the bird·jpg]]
After posting, he felt satisfied. He tossed his phone into his pocket. “Whatever. Every time I come to school, I trade insults with them. Let them follow me—I’m not scared.”
“Then why did you let the security guard block them so politely this time?”
Pei Tingsong led him down a less crowded path. “I don’t mind it myself. But hearing you get insulted… I just couldn’t stand it.”
Fang Juexia chuckled.
They really were alike.
“That’s nothing,” Fang Juexia shot him a glance, teasing him deliberately. “When I got cursed out the worst, you were still a virgin.”
“Fang Juexia, your mouth is getting sharper by the day.” Pei Tingsong clapped for him. “You’re a born debater.”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
After helping Pei Tingsong complete his paperwork, Fang Juexia felt a bit sluggish and regretted not brewing himself a cup of coffee that morning. He stopped at the coffee vending machine on the first floor of the office building and bought himself an Americano.
The girl behind him in line seemed to recognize him. Hesitating to speak up, she finally stepped forward when Fang Juexia couldn’t find the cup lid dispenser. She pointed to the side and said, “Brother Juexia, it’s over here.”
“Ah, thank you.” Fang Juexia realized he’d been recognized and felt a bit awkward, repeating his thanks.
“You’re welcome! I was so mad when I saw Pei Tingsong’s Weibo post earlier, but seeing you now instantly cheered me up!”
“Weibo?” Fang Juexia was confused, glancing up as Pei Tingsong, having finished his transaction, walked toward him.
“Yeah, he’s trending! He called out those stalker fans—so cool.”
Author’s Note: The Middle Finger of Humanity, Pei Tingsong
Pei Tingsong’s Badass Incident File just got another entry.
Next time I’ll write a full incident log.
