“Nie Ge, you’re back…”
“Mm!”
Fan Qing barely got the words out before Nie Luo strode over and kissed him.
The kiss was urgent, even lightly clashing against Fan Qing’s teeth.
But Fan Qing didn’t notice the pain.
All his attention was on Nie Luo.
Nie Luo was always gentle with him… he meant, during ordinary kisses and foreplay.
But today?
His mind hesitated, yet his waist was suddenly pulled tight.
Fan Qing was completely enveloped in Nie Luo’s embrace.
The warm, fervent breath brushed against his ear. Nie Luo’s voice lost its usual purity, instead carrying a hoarse, low timbre.
“Ah Qing… did you have Yao Ge make this dress?”
Of course not.
Compared to a wedding dress, he preferred having Yao Ge make clothing for Nie Luo himself.
Fan Qing thought this, yet did not appear unromantic.
Nie Luo liked this, he assumed.
His gaze immediately shifted to a more alluring expression than usual. Fan Qing’s eyes gleamed with subtle charm, his voice thick with sweetness.
“Ge, do you like it?”
His fingers traced the wedding dress, pale tips brushing against the vibrant red fabric.
A small gesture—but Nie Luo instantly felt his heartbeat explode in his ears.
He could feel his blood rushing as if surging through his veins, his entire body demanding a single thought.
Fan Qing is his.
His kiss was urgent, passionate, leaving no room for misunderstanding—this silent answer spoke louder than words.
Obediently, he extended his tongue. Feeling Nie Luo’s impatient suckling, Fan Qing’s eyes narrowed slightly, a fox-like smile curling at the corners of his lips.
So… Nie Luo liked this.
“Ge, do you want me to wear it for you?”
The words, whispered near his ear like a siren’s lure, barely left his mouth when a tearing sound ripped through the air.
Fan Qing’s eyes curved further into a mischievous arc. Calmly, he spread his arms, letting Nie Luo dress him in the wedding gown.
The contrast of pale skin and vibrant red fabric created a dazzling vision. Nie Luo’s mind went blank; he couldn’t remember anything else that happened.
Fan Qing, too, was unusually dazed, yet amid the haze, he held firmly to one thought:
Yao Ge… well done.
Meanwhile, online debates continued to bubble but were gradually pushed down by other trending topics.
In just a few hours, the spotlight would be on the much-anticipated Lunar New Year Gala.
At that moment, Zhang Fu finally realized—this timing was too perfect.
He could no longer delay. If he waited any longer, celebrities and other trending topics would dominate the news, leaving no space for him.
Biting his lip, Zhang Fu decided: enough, act now.
He didn’t hesitate. Not only did he authorize an additional payment to the bots, but he also called his wife’s family.
Apologies, admissions of fault—but also a disclosure of the online situation.
As expected, he heard her hesitant voice.
“Are you serious? Yao Ge really… is like that?”
Zhang Fu feigned ease.
“Honestly, I don’t really know. But we’ve all seen how he was before, right? And now so many people online are talking—surely not everyone is lying? I’d say it’s just a rumor.”
He paused, as if thinking, then added:
“Either way, this kind of incident isn’t good for our circle or for the classmates at that gathering. I have an idea…”
The woman was silent for two seconds, then casually asked,
“What idea?”
This is promising.
Zhang Fu softened his voice immediately.
“See, after this thing went public, people have some serious misunderstandings about our class. I think if we keep letting them focus on Yao Ge, it won’t help. Why don’t we step forward, prove a point, and also announce our marriage? We can talk to a few classmates and help calm things down, reduce some pressure on Yao Ge. What do you think?”
He hesitated, fearing she might object, then feigned a low, husky tone.
“You know me—I’ve loved you for a long time. I know you still have a bit of fondness for Yao Ge, so I don’t want him to look too bad in front of others. Besides us, no one can handle this. What do you say?”
She thought for a few seconds, then sighed, agreeing.
“How… how did he become like this?”
Zhang Fu beamed with satisfaction, his face flushed with excitement, though he forced a calm tone.
“Yeah… maybe you just didn’t know him before. But still, at least you married me, my wife.”
She hummed in response and hung up.
Done.
Zhang Fu immediately messaged the bots, who began their work.
It was three in the afternoon; most netizens were idle.
Many were young people, either helping grandparents or parents with chores like washing vegetables… or lounging on the sofa, blissfully scrolling through their phones.
Since it was a holiday, games were laggy, teammates were toxic, so many chose to mindlessly watch videos or scroll Weibo.
The bots pushed the previous trending topic back to the top.
Meanwhile, the forum updated first.
The message was simple and blunt, yet worded politely.
It roughly stated that Zhang Fu appeared publicly to apologize for taking up public attention, admitting he hadn’t expected the situation to draw so many eyes.
He subtly flaunted the scale of the gathering, then clarified his intention was simply for classmates to meet, not to dictate strict dress codes—though most felt formal attire was appropriate.
“…As for Yao Ge, he’s certainly one of the most outstanding students of our class, our class representative—many should know this. But the details, I actually don’t know much. As class president, I was fairly familiar with most classmates; my spouse, for example, met him back then and liked him a bit. Yao Ge’s always been busy, so we didn’t get many chances to talk. I maintain a neutral stance.
Also, thanks for the compliments. My spouse and I are officially married and will soon hold our wedding banquet. She’s an excellent woman, and I love her dearly, so I’ve worked hard to become a man worthy of her.”
That alone wasn’t enough. The bots followed up with momentum.
“I know Zhang Fu; he’s sociable, so he became class president. Don’t underestimate him—even if professors weren’t fond of him, he’s capable! And his character is good; many liked him.”
“I also know Zhang Fu. While he wasn’t outstanding academically, his skills and methods are exceptional. Honestly, I’ve begun to question—does academic excellence really matter so much? More important are character and ability. Look at Yao Ge versus Zhang Fu; I’d rather be Zhang Fu myself.”
The trending topic even went so far as to launch a poll: would people choose someone who is academically excellent but with poor character, or someone who is less scholarly but has good character and strong abilities?
Fan Qing lazily clicked a vote with a side account to see how it was going. As expected, the latter option was overwhelmingly favored.
Not surprising.
On the surface, the choices seemed neutral, but in reality, they were already guiding public opinion. “Good grades but bad character” subtly suggested—Yao Ge was this type. The other option, “bad grades but good character and strong abilities,” pointed straight at Zhang Fu.
A vote almost forcing everyone toward the latter choice—pretty much meaningless.
Fan Qing stretched lazily, his blanket slipping slightly to reveal the mottled marks of kisses and bites across his skin. Despite the faint exhaustion in his eyes, his spirit was completely satisfied.
“Awake?”
Nie Luo’s hoarse voice came from the doorway.
Hadn’t he been buried in work? Why was he standing there quietly?
Fan Qing raised an eyebrow and reached out.
Nie Luo strode over, lifted him from the bed in one motion.
“Take me to wash up. My waist hurts; I can’t walk.”
Fan Qing draped an arm around him lazily.
“Alright.”
Nie Luo responded in a low tone, lifting Fan Qing’s legs to carry him.
Fan Qing froze.
Hmm? What’s going on?
He looked at Nie Luo in surprise.
“You… didn’t clean up after?”
Nie Luo’s gaze dropped immediately. He turned his face slightly, embarrassed, and said nothing.
Tsk tsk.
Fan Qing clicked his tongue in amusement. This was a first. Nie Luo had always been attentive to his body—sometimes more than he himself was—but this time, no umbrella was used, and he hadn’t cleaned up afterward?
Only when they reached the bathroom did Fan Qing notice Nie Luo carefully tending to him, and a realization dawned.
Leaning close, Fan Qing nibbled at Nie Luo’s ear, voice low and teasing.
“Ge, how do I look in the wedding gown?”
Nie Luo froze, his head dipping even lower. From Fan Qing’s view, his chest had flushed red.
Fan Qing couldn’t help but laugh inwardly.
Shy now? Isn’t that a little late?
And…
He nudged Nie Luo lightly with his toes, voice deliberately suggestive.
“Ge, I could have Yao Ge make one for you too. How about it?”
Make one for him?
Nie Luo’s scalp tingled from the teasing. Could Ah Qing really want to see him wear this?
It took him a moment to realize—ah, most of the clothes Yao Ge had made were for him to wear in front of Ah Qing. While Ah Qing wore some, it seemed more often the pieces were for him.
His ears burned crimson.
Ah Qing… likes this kind of style?
He instinctively touched his nose.
Though he didn’t know how it would look on him…
If it were on him…
Fan Qing’s breath grew hotter in an instant. He couldn’t resist glancing at Nie Luo.
Surely, Nie Luo wouldn’t still be shy, right?
Suddenly, Nie Luo looked up, eyes brimming with an intensity so restrained it could have been deadly.
Fan Qing froze—but before anything could happen, his phone rang.
Nie Luo’s ferocity instantly melted into obedience.
Ah Qing’s waist hurt! And he’d just finished cleaning up—he had been about to…
Nie Luo took a deep breath to steady himself. No, he couldn’t think about that now. Today, Ah Qing still had a lot to do. And he did too…
With that, his mind went calm as still water.
He gently set Fan Qing in the bathtub, then obediently fetched the phone—practically the perfect picture of compliant, thoughtful behavior.
Fan Qing stared, slightly speechless. Though he didn’t know who was calling, he made a mental note of this account.
He picked up the phone—and was met with the excited voice of Jin Er Shao.
“Fan Qing! I heard from Sheng-ge about your plan! Man, how could you do something so thrilling without telling me? Are we about to slap some faces?”
Excited! Anticipating! So exhilarating!
Fan Qing’s fingers gripped the phone tighter, a predatory smile spreading across his face.
“How old are you, Er Shao?”