FIG CHAPTER 23.2

At 2 AM, the members returned to the dorm.

Zhu Lianzhen didn’t even have time to change clothes; he was too busy on the phone with his mother in his room. She had stayed up to watch the awards ceremony live and had waited just to hear the good news from him directly.

No matter how busy he was with work, Zhu Lianzhen always made time each week to stay in touch with his family, making up for how rarely he could return to Shanghai.

He wasn’t exactly a homebody. Ever since he was young, he’d had a strong desire to break away from his parents. Their love was overwhelming, and their protectiveness bordered on overbearing, which only made him more rebellious. The distance between them now was what made things feel most comfortable for everyone.

Zhu Lianzhen asked, “Has Dad been busy lately? Is he sleeping enough?”

His mother replied, “Don’t worry, he even went horse racing with some friends two days ago. Remember when you told him to quit smoking? He actually listened. He hasn’t touched a cigarette since.”

“Pfft.” Zhu Lianzhen laughed. “Why does he always act like he’s ignoring us, but secretly does exactly what we say?”

The two chatted and laughed until their throats were dry. When Zhu Lianzhen noticed how late it was, he didn’t want to keep his mom up any longer and said they could talk again another day.

“It’s fine, I couldn’t sleep anyway,” she said. “Haven’t heard you this happy in so long—your voice even sounds lighter.”

“Mm.” Zhu Lianzhen patiently explained just how valuable the award he had received was, and that’s why he felt so excited.

After going through all the updates, the two fell into a comfortable silence. Zhu Lianzhen figured it was time to hang up.

Just as he was about to say goodnight, his mother suddenly asked, “Is he doing okay?”

Zhu Lianzhen: “Who?”

“Tan Qing.”

Hearing that name come from his mother made him inexplicably tense. “Why are you asking about him… Ah, he’s fine. The others are doing fine too. We just had dinner together.”

“Mm. You two should date properly and not argue so much,” his mother reminded him.

Zhu Lianzhen nearly fell off the bed. Clutching the phone, he explained, “No—what do you mean ‘date’? I already told you, we’re just teammates now… Stop making stuff up, okay?”

Back when he and Tan Qing had first gotten together, he’d told his parents right away. His father, predictably, flew into a rage, but stopped at harsh words and never tried to force him to change his decision. His mother, soft-hearted as always, had been uneasy with her son being gay, but she tried to be understanding for his sake.

And after the breakup, Zhu Lianzhen had also told them right away.

His mother said, “I saw online that…”

“Don’t believe anything online!” Zhu Lianzhen didn’t know how to explain the whole idol boy group “CP fanservice” thing to her. “Sigh… It’s just that a lot of fans like seeing us interact. You know, kind of like how you used to root for the second male lead and the female lead in those K-dramas. Weird, right?”

“Anyway, all that stuff in front of the camera was just acting. Don’t get the wrong idea.” He made sure to emphasize, “We’re just regular friends now.”

His mother seemed to half-understand.

“Alright, it’s late. Go to sleep.” Zhu Lianzhen let out a helpless sigh.

After hanging up, he lay in bed, surrounded by silence.

If his mother hadn’t brought up Tan Qing just now, Zhu Lianzhen wouldn’t have started thinking about it again: joy is something you want to share.

When he won the award, it felt only natural to share the achievement with his family.

But for Tan Qing, it was different.

He had no one to share his joy with. No one to confide his troubles to.

Zhu Lianzhen turned onto his side, resting his head on his arm.

Why was he suddenly worrying about him? Was it just the quiet of the night making his thoughts more sensitive?

—It was the place where we lived together. I just didn’t want it to become someone else’s home.

Was it because of that line Tan Qing had said earlier?

The word “home” was just too loaded—it gave that otherwise ordinary place a special meaning.

To Zhu Lianzhen, it had only been a secret hideout from the past. A place where they had been secretly photographed by a stalker fan, where they’d argued, and eventually broken up.

But what did that place mean to Tan Qing? Did it carry even the faintest sense of being a home?

Even just the possibility made Zhu Lianzhen falter. Or rather, soften.

The time quietly ticked past 3:00 AM.

He took a deep breath and decided to check if Tan Qing was asleep.

Tan Qing’s door was slightly ajar. Zhu Lianzhen silently pushed it open and saw that the room was dark.

It looked like he was already asleep.

Just as Zhu Lianzhen was about to retreat, he caught a faint scent of alcohol in the air.

He pushed the door open again. The hallway light spilled into the room, and only then did he see Tan Qing sitting at the table, a square glass in his hand.

“Close the door,” Tan Qing said lightly, glancing toward him.

Zhu Lianzhen stepped in. While reaching to close the door, he moved his other hand toward the ceiling light switch.

“Don’t turn on the light,” Tan Qing added.

Zhu Lianzhen withdrew his hand and left the door slightly ajar.

In the dim light, he could make out Tan Qing removing his contact lenses with practiced movements, then glancing over with half-lidded eyes.

“Uncomfortable?” Zhu Lianzhen asked. “Do you have eye drops?”

Tan Qing closed his eyes and rubbed the space between his brows. “It’s fine. Just dry from wearing them too long.”

His voice had gone hoarse, laced with a trace of alcohol.

“Wait.” Zhu Lianzhen returned to his room to grab some eye drops. He wasn’t nearsighted, but since he often wore colored lenses for performances, he always kept eye care products on hand. He shoved the bottle into Tan Qing’s hand. “Didn’t you already drink at dinner?”

“Mm. But I wasn’t satisfied, so I couldn’t help opening another bottle after we got back.” Tan Qing smiled. “It’s so late—what did you come here for?”

Zhu Lianzhen heard him set the glass down, the crisp clink of ice ringing pleasantly.

“There’s something I wanted to ask, though it’s not really that important.” He wasn’t used to talking in the dark; it felt weird, so he asked something else first. “Can I turn on the desk lamp? Lowest brightness?”

“Up to you.”

Zhu Lianzhen stepped forward. The scent of alcohol was stronger now, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It had a floral, fruity aroma, clearly something expensive.

He found the switch and turned on the desk lamp, adjusting it to a warm yellow. Beside the lamp sat a bouquet of white camellias, the water in the vase so clear it looked freshly changed.

His gaze shifted slightly, and he was immediately stunned. On the table were three bottles of high-proof cognac: one empty, one unopened, and the third with only a fifth remaining.

They’d only been back in the dorm for about an hour. Zhu Lianzhen muttered, “Are you drinking this like water? Aren’t you afraid of burning a hole in your stomach?”

He glanced at Tan Qing, who, like him, still hadn’t changed out of his clothes.

“I was happy about the award, so I felt like drinking a little more.” Tan Qing’s voice had grown slower and even hoarser, though his expression remained composed.

There was only one chair in the room, which Tan Qing was occupying, so Zhu Lianzhen sat on the edge of the bed and had Tan Qing turn toward him so they could talk properly.

“My assistant told me something.” Zhu Lianzhen had originally planned to bring it up subtly, but after thinking it over, decided there was no point beating around the bush. He took a breath and asked directly, “There was a time you came to my place in the middle of the night. And apparently, y-you went into my bedroom while I was sleeping and didn’t leave until the next morning… Did that really happen?”

He looked up, studying Tan Qing’s reaction.

Tan Qing leaned back in the chair and answered without hesitation, “It did.”

Zhu Lianzhen suspected Tan Qing was too drunk to understand the question properly. He asked again, “Are you sure? Think about it carefully.”

“I’m sure.”

More than the fact itself, what shocked Zhu Lianzhen was how easily he admitted it. “Then what were you doing in my room at the time?”

“You want the truth?” Tan Qing met his eyes. “I didn’t do anything.”

That answer, delivered in a slow voice, made it hard to believe. Zhu Lianzhen eyed him skeptically. “Then there must be something wrong with your head. Who just shows up in someone’s bedroom in the middle of the night to watch them sleep and actually does nothing? That’s way too…”

He suddenly stopped mid-sentence. His phrasing was too ambiguous, like he was implying that the other person should’ve done something.

Tan Qing looked thoughtful. “I should’ve harvested a kidney before I left.”

Zhu Lianzhen: “…That’s not what I meant.”

“Don’t worry, you can trust me on this,” Tan Qing explained, his head slightly bowed. “I admit, entering without permission was a bit much. But you’d just taken a fall and were still running a fever. I wanted to wait until you woke up to talk. But then…”

He paused, as if remembering something. “Before I knew it, I fell asleep in the chair.”

“My place has guest rooms, you know.” Zhu Lianzhen still sounded half-skeptical. “So what exactly did you want to talk to me about?”

“I just wanted to check in as a teammate. You got hurt during the tour and the news was all vague. I happened to be passing by that night, so I stopped by to see how you were doing,” Tan Qing said slowly. “I didn’t go there on purpose.”

As he spoke, Zhu Lianzhen studied every subtle shift in his expression. Calm, steady—not a single flaw.

Alright, then. Someone really drunk wouldn’t be this articulate.

For now, Zhu Lianzhen decided to believe him and said, “Alright. I’ll head back. You should sleep.”

But just as he was about to get up, Tan Qing braced his arms on either side of the bed, trapping Zhu Lianzhen between them.

“Leaving already?” Tan Qing’s voice was so soft it was almost a whisper, making Zhu Lianzhen’s heart skip a beat.

“What else do you want?” Zhu Lianzhen lowered his eyes, avoiding his gaze.

The two of them were wrapped in the half-light, half-shadow of the room. Tan Qing’s lips moved slightly.
“Xiao Zhu.”

Zhu Lianzhen kept his head down. “Hm?”

Tan Qing’s eyes were dry from wearing contacts for too long. The whites were slightly red, but he didn’t blink. He stared directly at Zhu Lianzhen and said, “I was really happy about winning the award today.”

What kind of nonsense was that—who wouldn’t be happy? Zhu Lianzhen grumbled inwardly, but still replied, “Me too.”

“This is a great start. Things should go more smoothly from now on.” Tan Qing looked focused, his words drifting out slowly. His arms seemed to relax, and although he sat in the chair, his center of gravity shifted as he leaned closer to Zhu Lianzhen.

They were so close that their noses nearly touched. Zhu Lianzhen held his breath. Then he heard Tan Qing speak in a solemn tone, “I hope all your old wishes come true.”

Zhu Lianzhen didn’t even register the words, too distracted by the way Tan Qing’s gaze had shifted from his eyes down to his lips. At this rate… it really looked like a kiss was about to happen.

His eyelashes trembled slightly. Rationally, he knew this was the moment to pull back. But before he could react, Tan Qing stopped on his own. He calmly withdrew, widening the space between them.

Guess I overthought it. Zhu Lianzhen quietly let out a breath and stood up along with the motion.

He left the room, but just before the door closed, he glanced back and saw Tan Qing casually pluck a petal from the bouquet of white camellias and pop it into his mouth to chew.

Is his brain really that muddled… Zhu Lianzhen immediately stopped closing the door, strode back in, smacked Tan Qing’s hand, and confiscated his drinks. “Go to sleep!”

With everything gathered in his arms, he barely made it a few steps before the bottles started to slip. He had to crouch down to keep them from falling.

The dim yellow light spilled over Tan Qing’s face, casting deep shadows across his features. He sat in silence, then suddenly lifted a leg and, without a word, kicked over the nearest bottle of liquor.

Caught off guard, Zhu Lianzhen got splashed with alcohol. “—What the hell!”

He sprang to his feet, furiously unbuttoning his soaked shirt while glaring daggers at Tan Qing. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? This shirt is haute couture!”

“Which one of yours isn’t haute couture?” Tan Qing asked back.

Zhu Lianzhen was at a loss for words.

Well, look at that. A bit of liquid courage, and now he’s talking back?

He yanked off the shirt and grabbed some tissues to wipe up the spilled liquor on the floor.

That’s when Tan Qing said, “I’ll wash it clean for you.”

Zhu Lianzhen was cursing him silently, and Tan Qing’s slightly slurred enunciation caused him to mishear—

“You’ll lick it clean?!” He shot up, fuming.

Tan Qing closed his eyes. After two seconds, he opened them again. “I said I’ll wash it clean for you.”

He tilted his head and let out a low chuckle. “Is something wrong with your hearing today?” Then, after a beat, added, “Want me to say it a few more times?”

“…Don’t get cocky!” Zhu Lianzhen was nearly speechless at his drunken antics.

In the end, he didn’t let Tan Qing touch the shirt. He’d only worn it today anyway and could just ask Ah-Xu to send it to the dry cleaners later.

“I’m leaving!” He slammed the door on his way out.

After watching Zhu Lianzhen walk off, Tan Qing moved to the window, letting the cold air pour in to clear his head.

He leaned against the frame, half of his body dissolving into the night. In his palm, he still held the bottle of eye drops, running his thumb over its surface again and again. After a while, he let out a soft sigh and instinctively raised his hand to touch the necklace at his collarbone, only to find nothing there.

There was supposed to be a ring hanging from it.

Then he remembered.

Right. The ring had long since lost its original form. Melted down, reshaped into earrings.