“What?”
Fang Juexia shot Pei Tingsong a look that screamed [What the hell are you doing?] as he approached. Pei Tingsong returned the stare with an expression that said [Did I do something wrong?].
A random P-sized fan whose eyes darted between the two immediately launched into full-on imagination mode.
Oh my god, how did I deserve to see Ting Song and Fang Juexia exchanging glances this close?
Too real. Way too real.
I’d sooner believe the Yellow River ran dry than think Ting Sheng and Ting Jue aren’t involved.
“What’s wrong?” Pei Tingsong hadn’t grasped the situation, assuming this seemingly innocent girl was another fan. He asked, “You’re… you’re not following my brother, are you?”
My brother!!!
The girl being questioned couldn’t process anything else. Only the words “my brother” registered. She instantly clutched her chest, her face flushing crimson.
Life had never felt this blissful.
“No,” Fang Juexia denied immediately. “She’s a student who was behind me in line for coffee.” He swiftly shifted the topic to Pei Tingsong. “Did you post on Weibo?” Thinking he might as well see for himself, he logged into his long-neglected Weibo account in the corner, scrolled through the homepage, and found Pei Tingsong’s latest post.
He was completely in the dark.
“This is way too direct.” “ Fang Juexia shook his head in disbelief. She’d actually used the word ”insult,” complete with a middle finger emoji. No wonder it was trending.
Pei Tingsong’s lips curled in a dismissive smirk. “That’s nothing. I might as well have posted a private message.”
The little girl began clapping her hands excitedly, like a playful seal pup.
Fang Juexia sighed. Fine, why did he ever expect to rein this guy in? Pei Tingsong couldn’t care less. He snatched the coffee from Fang Juexia’s hand, took a sip like some connoisseur, and wrinkled his nose. “This coffee tastes awful.”
The girl gasped again.
An indirect kiss?!
Fang Juexia’s phone buzzed repeatedly—all messages from Cheng Qiang. He didn’t even need to open them to know what they were about. He felt like he had two headaches.
“Let’s go, let’s go. I’m hungry. Let’s grab something to eat.” Pei Tingsong tugged at Fang Juexia, who was practically in a daze, pulling him away from the small coffee vending machine. They left behind that adorable little fan, radiating pink bubbles as she watched her favorite CP walk away.
Pei Tingsong’s height made him stand out on campus, but he didn’t mind. He just worried Fang Juexia might feel awkward, so he always took him down less crowded paths.
He actually cherished these moments—acting like an ordinary student, showing his crush around campus, taking him to the school cafeteria, meeting up at campus cafes to study and write papers together.
Just like a typical campus romance.
“I’ll take you to a simple eatery I frequent.” With that, Pei Tingsong led Fang Juexia to a modest café filled mostly with international students from various countries.
He chose a booth tucked in the corner, ordered sandwiches and pasta, then sat across from Fang Juexia to chat.
Here, Fang Juexia felt an inexplicable sense of security. Perhaps it was because the students were all focused on studying or chatting, with few eyes on them. Or maybe it was simply because Pei Tingsong was sitting right across from him, making him feel completely at ease.
“When I first arrived, I wasn’t quite used to the teaching style here. Sometimes I’d come to cafés alone to study—I came here quite often.” Pei Tingsong picked up a sandwich and offered it to Fang Juexia. “I usually order this one.”
“Mm.” Fang Juexia took a bite and found it quite good. “It’s pretty tasty.”
At the next table, two Korean girls reviewed math problems. They pinned their hair up with pens and scratched their heads when stumped, muttering in a mix of Chinese and Korean, “Aigoo, I messed up again.”
He found it adorable, recalling his own student days. Turning to Pei Tingsong, he said, “I actually attended classes at P University before. But back then, I never had time to eat. I’d rush off after lectures without exploring the campus.”
Pei Tingsong looked surprised. “Really?” He calculated, “Two or three years ago?”
Fang Juexia nodded, twirling his fork around the plate to gather a coil of pasta. “I was with classmates back then and even met some P University professors.”
Pei Tingsong suddenly felt a pang of regret. If only he’d returned to China then, he might have met Fang Juexia. They could have been like ordinary students, meeting in the library to study.
He wasn’t one to dwell on the past, always charging forward without pause. But now, memories surfaced unexpectedly.
Because he cared so deeply, the thought of missing out on certain chapters of Fang Juexia’s life filled him with regret.
Pretty silly, Pei Tingsong knew.
Fang Juexia chewed his pasta, then suddenly smiled as if something had occurred to him.
“What is it?” Pei Tingsong leaned on the table, watching him. “Why are you smiling so happily?”
Fang Juexia shook his head, seemingly reluctant to say.
“Tell me, let me be happy too.”
After a moment of prodding, Fang Juexia finally began, “Alright, I just suddenly thought… If I could go back to high school now, I might really buckle down. Join some math competitions or something, take a shot at P University. Even though my grandfather wanted me to go to the Normal University, if…”
His eyes darted away from Pei Tingsong, avoiding contact with an embarrassed flicker. “If I’d known back then that you’d end up here someday, I might have changed my mind.”
Pei Tingsong, who had just abandoned a hypothetical scenario, now felt Fang Juexia’s words strike his heart.
He knew that speculating about the past was the most futile thing in the world. Yet when two such speculations unexpectedly collided, they became a mutual longing.
Learning that the person he liked also wished they’d met sooner was already the happiest thing in the world.
Perhaps in some parallel universe, that’s exactly how they lived. Not as glittering idols on stage, but meeting in the most ordinary way. Maybe they started with arrogance and prejudice—after all, they were worlds apart. Yet in the end, through countless deep conversations, they’d still become the closest of souls.
No matter how many times they restarted, Pei Tingsong would always be moved by Fang Juexia’s resilience and clarity, while Fang Juexia couldn’t help but be captivated by the most passionate and romantic person in the world.
This was the one constant storyline across countless parallel universes.
Fang Juexia’s phone buzzed. He glanced down.
[Hengzhen Style: I love you so much, words fail me.]
A smile inevitably curved his lips. Fang Juexia deliberately avoided looking at him, instead focusing his gaze on the menu.
He’d hoped Pei Tingsong could accompany him back to the office, but unfortunately, a professor had suddenly called him away to discuss publishing a paper. Not wanting to keep Xiao Wen waiting too long, Pei Tingsong asked Fang Juexia to head back first, promising to join him at the office once he finished.
By the time Fang Juexia stepped outside, Pei Tingsong’s paparazzi had already dispersed.
“Juexia! Juexia!” As soon as Xiao Wen spotted him, he leaned out the car window, waving excitedly.
Fang Juexia slid into the passenger seat, handing Xiao Wen the sandwich and coffee he’d specially bought for him. “Have something to eat. I thought you’d catch a nap.”
“Perfect timing, I’m starving! Thanks, Juexia! I was planning to nap.” Xiao Wen took a bite of the sandwich. “But then… then Xiao Pei sent me a WeChat, asking me to snap a photo of those paparazzi outside and send it to him.”
Take pictures?
Fang Juexia sensed something was off. “What does he want with them?”
“No idea. I just sent them anyway.” Xiao Wen sounded annoyed. “Those women are still arguing with security outside. They scared me so much I almost called the cops. I really don’t get why they have to stalk people day after day.“ Then he remembered something. ”Oh, and Juexia, Brother Qiang said he’s had surveillance cameras installed—in the elevator, at the entrance elevator, and outside your dorm room door. The monitoring screen is in your living room so you can watch anytime.”
He took a sip of coffee. “Brother Qiang said if it gets too bad, we’ll just move dorms and find a new place.”
Fang Juexia sighed. “If we move, those stalkers will just get cockier, thinking we’re scared of them and hiding.”
“Exactly.” Xiao Wen rolled up her sleeves, revealing her slender arms. “Every time I see them, I just want to punch them.”
The more Fang Juexia thought about it, the more he felt he needed to discuss whatever Pei Tingsong was planning with him.
Xiao Wen drove him back to the company. On the way, Fang Juexia received a message from Ling Yi, who announced he had a new TV drama theme song—for a series starring his favorite actress. Fang Juexia was happy for him and replied with congratulations.
At the parking garage, Xiao Wen parked the car, and they walked up together. Their underground garage was fairly empty, requiring a short walk to reach the office building elevators. Xiao Wen had a lively personality and chatted nonstop with Fang Juexia about recent work matters—all trivial details he usually had no one to share with. But Fang Juexia was gentle and offered practical advice, so Xiao Wen enjoyed talking with him.
“So you’re still mentoring newcomers?”
Xiao Wen sighed. “No choice. Brother Qiang says we’ll be short-staffed from now on. Who’d have thought I’d become a senior myself?”
Fang Juexia smiled. “You’ve always been reliable.” After saying this, he suddenly sensed something off. He glanced sideways but saw nothing. Turning back, the space behind him remained empty.
Pleased by the compliment, Xiao Wen didn’t notice Fang Juexia’s glance and continued chatting about his daily routine. “It’s not too bad, really. There’s just this one new guy who can’t seem to remember anything I tell him. He keeps making these really basic mistakes. I know it’s not nice to say, but honestly, you know, Juexia? Last time he almost took the wrong documents off my desk. I told him not to touch anything on my desk.”
“Oh…” Fang Juexia felt an uneasy twinge in his chest, so he only gave a half-hearted response before turning back again.
“What’s wrong?” Xiao Wen finally noticed something was off.
Fang Juexia shook his head. They stepped into the elevator together. Only after the doors closed slowly did he speak. “I keep feeling like someone’s following me.”
“Really? Could it be paparazzi or stalkers?”
“I don’t know.” Fang Juexia frowned. “Maybe it’s just that recent stalker business making me a bit on edge.”
Hearing this, Xiao Wen felt a chill run down his spine too. “Hope it’s just paparazzi, not someone really dangerous. I worry about you guys every single day.”
Xiao Wen had been with them since their debut, fresh out of college back then. When Kaleido wasn’t popular, she endured hardships on the road and faced plenty of disdainful looks. To Fang Juexia, Xiao Wen and Cheng Qiang were practically family.
He squeezed Xiao Wen’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. We’ll figure something out.”
Upon returning to the company, he found Cheng Qiang in a fluster, juggling three phones as calls came in one after another. Fang Juexia felt a pang of sympathy, but knowing it was about Pei Tingsong’s Weibo post, he also found it somewhat amusing. He stood before him for a moment longer, watching.
After finishing the call, Cheng Qiang shook his head at Fang Juexia. “How can he be so bold? Tell me, how can he be so bold!”
“Maybe he was a little tiger in a past life,” Fang Juexia shrugged. “He’s used to being the king of the mountain. He doesn’t take anyone seriously.”
“The problem is those stalkers are so extreme.” Cheng Qiang remained worried.
Fang Juexia pondered for a moment. “Qiang Ge, maybe we’re approaching this wrong. I thought about it today—Xiao Pei’s actions might not be impulsive. He’s playing his own game. And you know, he doesn’t actually rely on fans for his livelihood, let alone stalkers who aren’t even real fans.”
Cheng Qiang suddenly grasped what he meant. “You’re saying Xiao Pei wants to teach them a lesson himself?”
“Maybe.” Fang Juexia was only speculating. “Fighting fire with fire can sometimes be a good strategy.”
“Whatever. I’m just exhausted today. I tried spending money to suppress the trending topic, but that little brat refused to budge—won’t delete his Weibo either. Now all the marketing accounts are reposting that thread about him from the old forum.”
“What thread?” Fang Juexia caught on instantly. “Oh, the Pei Tingsong Tiger-Bashing Incident File.”
“You know about it too!”
Fang Juexia chuckled. “Ling Yi showed it to me while we were gossiping.”
“I’m speechless. Now everyone online has nicknames for him—‘The Middle Finger of Humanity Pei Tingsong,’ ‘The Walking Mute,‘ ‘The Human Tiger Pei Tingsong.’”
Fang Juexia pondered for a moment. “They’re all spot-on.”
Cheng Qiang was utterly speechless. Just as expected—all that brotherly bond was just for show. He’d actually thought they’d become real friends.
“Fine. You two—one stubborn, one fierce. This is too much for me.” Cheng Qiang started to leave but turned back to remind him, “Oh, right. We’ve got a commercial shoot this weekend. Make sure you’re in top shape.”
“Got it.”
Practicing in the studio until evening, Ling Yi joined them to dance. As soon as he entered, he said, “Juexia, did you see Xiao Pei’s Weibo? It’s insane.”
Fang Juexia wiped his sweat and took a sip of water. “I saw it. He posted it right in front of me, and I didn’t even notice.”
“Huh?” Ling Yi looked puzzled at first, then quickly realized, “Oh, wait—he posted again. You definitely haven’t seen the new one.” He knew Fang Juexia never checked his phone during practice.
Really?
Fang Juexia walked to the wall, picked up his phone, sat down, and opened Weibo. He only refreshed the homepage once before spotting Pei Tingsong’s post.
[@Kaleido Pei Tingsong: Seriously, you guys can keep bashing my teammates and my agent online all day. I can pretend not to see it. Do whatever you want—you rant and rave, but we still live together and are even going to the Maldives together. How about that?
But when you chase our car like maniacs and show up right in front of me, yelling at my teammates to my face—what exactly are you trying to accomplish? Are you trying to tell me, “Hey Pei Tingsong, look how much I love you! I curse just like you do”? Learn some class, will you? I only curse those who deserve it—like all of you. I even love reading books. Why don’t I see you guys bringing me your theses to translate the English abstracts for you?]
Fang Juexia couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Ling Yi immediately chimed in, “Right? Right? Xiao Pei is seriously awesome. I’ve never seen such an amazing idol in my life. I’m tempted to sign up for a class just to learn how to curse like him.”
“Forget it,” Fang Juexia said, his smile still lingering. “Even if you learned, you wouldn’t have a chance to use it. He’s already fearless as hell.”
“True. With his family’s wealth and influence, no one dares touch him. He’s got all the confidence in the world. Hey,” Ling Yi tapped his screen, “look, he even replied to a toxic fan’s comment.”
“Really?”
Sure enough, the very first comment below was it.
[@Grapevine’s Official Girlfriend: Seriously, what the hell are you talking about? Aren’t we all fighting for you? Do you think we’re arguing for ourselves? You really know how to break fans’ hearts. Do you have any idea how many resources you’ll lose and how many fans will unfollow after saying this? The entertainment industry demands you watch your words, do you even understand? Just because you’re hot right now doesn’t mean you’re all that—don’t get too full of yourself!”]
[@Kaleido Pei Tingsong replies to @Grapevine’s Official Girlfriend: First, I speak Chinese. Second, you’re fighting for yourselves—stop shifting blame onto me. Watching you guys tear each other apart is annoying. Third, stop pretending to speak for all fans—do you even qualify? Fourth, what resources do I need? I am the resource. If you want to unfollow, go ahead—it’s healthier that way. By the way, you’re new here, huh? Didn’t know you were even meaner when I wasn’t famous. So what if I’m famous? Did you make me famous? This young master rose to fame through talent and brains. ]
He also replied to another comment.
[@Kaleido Pei Tingsong replies to @Grapevine’s Official Girlfriend: Change your ID. I don’t need girlfriend fans, just dream girlfriends.]
Too bold…
Fang Juexia couldn’t help but marvel. He knew fans would control comments below, so he deliberately checked the trending topics for real-time reactions. He expected a flood of insults, but the reality was nothing like he imagined.
[@Paperheart: Holy shit, PTS is so badass…]
[@Low-Level Face-Chaser: Holy shit, I’m switching fandoms. Never imagined a star as bold as PTS would exist. Taking down that stalker blogger was already badass enough, but this is hardcore trash-talking. He genuinely isn’t afraid of losing fans? As far as I know, he’s still one of the top members in the group? Respect, Brother PTS.]
[@LittleSevenReply @LowLevelFaceChaser: This guy genuinely doesn’t care. His past actions weren’t much better than this. He got his account confiscated by the company for going too hard on ncf, but after he went live to rant, the company couldn’t control him anymore and gave his account back.]
[@Low-Level Face-Chaser replies to @XiaoQiXiaoQi: What the hell??? He went live? How is he this strong?]
[@Low-Level Face-Chaser replies to @XiaoQiXiaoQi: Yeah, he doesn’t give a damn about those fanatics. He came to the Chinese entertainment industry just for fun anyway—he was originally focused on the underground hip-hop scene. Those fanatics just want to control him, so of course he’s pissed. Plus, he’s got watches worth millions, lives in Atherton, and his whole family is famous. Any posts digging into his background got wiped clean, accounts banned—you get the picture. What regular idol would dare do that?]
[@Low-Level Face-Chaser replies to @LittleSevenLittleSeven: I’m going after him! Chasing this kind of idol is pure fanfiction bliss!]
[@AstronautDetective: Truly the entertainment industry’s fiercest tiger (1). Every time I see PTS dissing people, it gives me such satisfaction. Being reincarnated must be amazing.]
[@WhoDoesntLikeLychees: Taking down Du Wei is so badass… This plot twist I’ve been dreaming of actually happened! New wall, here I come!]
[@bukubuku: No wonder he grew up abroad—this attitude is straight out of a Western celebrity playbook.]
[@SafeLandingForFans: Why is he so fiery today? Let me take a wild guess—could that teammate he mentioned getting bashed be fjx? (Just throwing ideas out there, fans—don’t come after me. If you want to bash me, go ahead and bash your idol too)]
[@YouAreTheAprilSky: PTS probably voiced what many stars dare not say. Some fans are truly insane. The recent Seven Stars Tracker incident was terrifying too, yet AS did absolutely nothing. Old Three posts on Weibo with extreme caution, afraid to utter a single harsh word. It’s so tough. Next time, should we install hidden cameras?]
[@EVA1234: Wait, how could he talk about fans like that?]
[@GrapevinesNeverRipen replies to @EVA1234: No, he just looks intimidating. He’s incredibly kind to real fans. There was a high school fan who was terrified after discovering a small tumor. She wrote a long message but was too scared to tag him. A fellow fan tagged him instead, and he not only reposted it but secretly went to see the girl. Learning she was from a single-parent family, he arranged for her to go to the best tumor hospital and covered all her medical expenses. He’s genuinely kind-hearted. It’s just that some fans are terrifying—using love as an excuse to stalk him. He’s been warning about this since his debut.
[@EVA1234: Oh, I see. My bad. I couldn’t handle being stalked either. ]
Fang Juexia still remembered hearing about it from He Ziyan—that Pei Tingsong had sponsored a high school student. At the time, he hadn’t thought much of it, assuming the young master just had money and energy to spare. Later, he realized his own prejudice had clouded his judgment. That student had fallen seriously ill without funds for treatment, and Pei stepped in to help without telling anyone. If the child hadn’t insisted on posting about it on Weibo later, no one would have known.
Pei Tingsong was a man of stark contrasts—no shades of gray existed for him.
Back then, Fang Juexia had actually begun to see him in a different light, realizing his core wasn’t inherently bad. Yet Fang Juexia also understood his own place in the world with brutal clarity: he belonged in the black zone, forever barred from even a shred of Pei’s favor.
Looking back now, life truly has its dramatic ups and downs—and then more dramatic ups.
Who could have predicted that someone on the blacklist would end up becoming a boyfriend?
The trending topics #PeiTingsongSlamsIllegitimateChild and #MiddleFingerToTheWorldPeiTingsong exploded instantly, becoming the talk of the entire internet.
Seeing this, Fang Juexia’s only thought was: We’re done for. The company doesn’t have enough money to suppress a trending topic like this. How expensive would that be?
Clicking into the trending topic, all kinds of comments flooded in. Most expressed shock, and many even became fans because of Pei Tingsong’s bluntness.
Of course, there’s always that segment of self-righteous keyboard warriors who felt compelled to lecture Pei Tingsong without restraint. They attempted to rein him in with traditional Chinese thinking, urging him to learn patience and caution in his words and actions.
These self-righteous individuals couldn’t care less about how they themselves are treated—they just want to lecture others on how to behave. They even swarmed under Pei Tingsong’s Weibo posts to deliver their online lectures, convinced they were offering bitter but necessary medicine, believing that if Pei Tingsong was criticized, he would listen and change. Some even mocked Pei Tingsong for his upbringing abroad, lecturing him that Chinese isn’t meant for cursing and that celebrities should learn to keep quiet—he deserved it.
“These comments are so confusing. Aren’t they pretty good at cursing in Chinese themselves?” Ling Yi scrolled through, growing more baffled by the moment. Finally, he stormed off to like that post forbidding insults against teammates.
“Juexia, you should like it too. I see Lu Yuan and Ziyan already did.”
Fang Juexia hummed in response, returning to the homepage. He accidentally refreshed the feed and unexpectedly landed on Pei Tingsong’s latest Weibo post. It contained no text, only an image featuring several lines of his handwritten English.
[@Kaleido裴听颂: Share Image]
[We live in a fucking insane time, man
When you’re stalked by some shit, you gotta shut the fuck up.
When you tryna say something real, people just blah-blah-blah.
They say you gotta watch what you’re saying, baby.
OMG, you’re in trouble!
Guess what?
I AM THE REAL TROUBLE ]
For some reason, just looking at this picture, Fang Jiexia felt voices in his head, like Pei Tingsong was freestyling right here.
Who knew the top comments would have translations in just a moment.
[@Learn English with Grapevine: This era we live in is f***ing insane. When you’re being stalked by some a**holes, you f***ing have to shut up and endure it. Try to speak your mind, and these idiots start nagging—one minute telling you to watch your words, next minute screaming “Oh my god, you’ll get in trouble!” Guess what? I am the real trouble.]
Fang Juexia laughed.
“That’s some soul-translation right there.”
Ling Yi looked at him in surprise. “Tian Juexia, I thought you were totally against him being so reckless.”
Fang Juexia glanced at him with a carefree expression. “I support him. Whatever he does, I support him.”
Author’s Note: It’s just a feel-good story at its core, don’t take it too seriously x
He won’t be forced to come out because of an illegitimate child, rest assured~
Yesterday I mentioned writing the Tiger-Boss Incident Files. I originally planned to jot down a few entries, but then I saw reader suggestions to make it more complete—like writing a forum-style side story or something. That seems more feasible, because after thinking about it, there really is quite a lot to cover, hahaha.
