The assistant left after swiping the room card for him. Zhu Lianzhen stepped into the room, ready to flare up, only to see Tan Qing fast asleep on the bed.
He let out a quiet snort and walked over as silently as possible, settling onto the small sofa beside the bed. When he turned his head, he noticed the curtains weren’t fully drawn, allowing sunlight to stream into the room.
Summer arrived early in Ronggang, and the sun was harsh at this hour. The light slipping through the gap in the curtains landed directly on Tan Qing’s face. Zhu Lianzhen didn’t wake him. As he spaced out, his mind wandered: Did Tan Qing put on sunscreen before his nap?
In the still room, Tan Qing’s breathing seemed to deepen. Zhu Lianzhen guessed he was dreaming. Then his thoughts drifted again: If he’s been lying in the sun this long, would he dream of Hou Yi?[mfn]Hou Yi is a mythological archer who shot down nine of the ten suns, leaving only one sun. (In Chinese mythology, there were originally 10 suns)[/mfn]
Buzz—
The phone on the nightstand vibrated.
Zhu Lianzhen immediately glanced at Tan Qing. Seeing he was undisturbed, he relaxed and picked up the phone. It was just a “battery fully charged” notification.
He unplugged the charger, and the screen lit up automatically. The wallpaper showed a fennec fox with its head tilted up, eyes full of confusion.
Zhu Lianzhen frowned slightly, his finger hovering over the screen before he pressed the lock button and set the phone back down.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed a mosquito had landed on Tan Qing’s face.
This mortal enemy of humankind triggered an instinctive urge to kill. He resisted the temptation to smack it with his palm and instead picked up the script by the pillow, gently fanning it to blow the mosquito away from Tan Qing’s face to finish it off.
Cool air brushed over Tan Qing’s face again and again. His eyelashes fluttered slightly before he half-opened his eyes, squinting into the sunlight.
Zhu Lianzhen was still focused on the mosquito when Tan Qing suddenly spoke. “What are you doing?”
“Fuck!” Zhu Lianzhen jolted, shoulders twitching as he grumbled, “You scared the hell out of me!”
When he looked back for the mosquito, it had already vanished without a trace.
Zhu Lianzhen casually made up an excuse for the fanning. “…I was helping you memorize your lines through quantum speed reading.”[mfn]way of reading without looking at the pages 
[/mfn]
Tan Qing curved his lips into a smile and explained, “It’s easy to get sleepy when it’s hot. I only meant to lie down for a second, but I ended up falling asleep.”
“So you haven’t eaten either? I’m starving. Want to eat here at the hotel or go out to a restaurant?”
“Hotel. There are two universities nearby, so there are students all over the place right now. We’re more likely to get spotted if we go out.”
Tan Qing had been under the sun for quite a while, and his face was still a little warm. He cooled down by splashing cold water on it several times. As he wiped his face with tissues, he looked at Zhu Lianzhen and gave him a faint smile in the silence.
Zhu Lianzhen, unsure what it meant, instinctively assumed Tan Qing was up to no good. “What are you smiling at me for?”
“I wasn’t smiling at you.” Tan Qing tossed the crumpled tissue aside. “It’s just I haven’t seen you in days, and for some reason, I’m a little nervous right now.”
Zhu Lianzhen didn’t know how to respond. He had felt a bit flustered even while driving over, and now that he thought about it carefully—could it be guilt? After all, Pei Qiao hadn’t actually told him to visit the set.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, since you’re not filming today, I’ll just take a photo of you reading your script. Pei-jie asked me to.”
Tan Qing nodded, opened the script, and sat down at the desk. Zhu Lianzhen tried a few angles, but none looked right. “Ah, this looks way too staged and fake.”
“Aren’t we faking it?” Tan Qing said.
“But it can’t be so fake that the fans can tell right away.” Zhu Lianzhen thought for a moment. “Just look at the camera.”
Tan Qing did as instructed, but Zhu Lianzhen still wasn’t satisfied. “Now throw in a peace sign.”
Tan Qing raised two fingers and smiled at him. “Isn’t this even more obviously staged?”
Zhu Lianzhen pressed the shutter.
The hotel’s restaurant was downstairs. Tan Qing was going to take him to a VIP private room, but Zhu Lianzhen declined and chose to sit by the window instead. That was just an excuse; private rooms were too quiet, and being alone together in one would only make things feel overly uptight.
He wandered around with his plate and discovered that the hotel’s buffet was actually quite generous. He looked suspiciously at Tan Qing. “Didn’t the food in your post yesterday look pretty bad?”
Tan Qing remained calm. “Mm, because the character I’m playing doesn’t have good living conditions. Just being able to eat enough every day is already something. I thought I could eat less off-set too, to help get into character.”
Zhu Lianzhen looked like he wanted to say something. In the end, he grabbed a chicken leg and slammed it onto Tan Qing’s plate. “Eat it!”
From their seats by the window, they could see a long food street across from the hotel, bustling with people—mostly young faces.
Tan Qing turned his head to look and muttered, “If we hadn’t debuted, we’d probably be like that in university too.”
“Hm?” Zhu Lianzhen stuffed a piece of sushi into his mouth, cheeks puffed out as he glanced out the window. He mumbled, “I wouldn’t be eating street food, though.”
They were clearly on different wavelengths, but it didn’t get in the way of the conversation. Tan Qing looked down, smiling faintly. “After being in this industry for a while, it’s easy to forget the little details of ordinary life. I often wonder if I hadn’t entered this field, I wouldn’t even know what kind of job I’d be doing now.”
Zhu Lianzhen: “Even if you went begging, you’d cause competition in the beggar industry. Does it matter what job you’d be doing?”
After saying that, even he felt the words had come off too sarcastic, so he let out an awkward laugh and added, “I meant it as a compliment—you’d do well at anything. You got that, right?”
Tan Qing nodded and mimicked his tone. “Begging sounds fine too. At least it’s not selling myself.”
Zhu Lianzhen responded earnestly, “If you sold yourself, you’d definitely be the police’s number one target in anti-prostitution crackdowns.”
“Thank you for the compliment. I’m sure my success would have a lot to do with your generous support.”
“……”
After finishing their meal, Zhu Lianzhen followed Tan Qing back upstairs. After a brief rest, he asked, “Didn’t you say you wanted to go home? Do you want me to drive you?”
Tan Qing shook his head. “I’m too lazy to move. It’s not too hot outside now, so you should head back early; otherwise you might get stuck in traffic.”
Zhu Lianzhen agreed out loud, but his legs didn’t move. He didn’t want to just leave, yet couldn’t think of a good excuse to stay either. So he lowered his head and looked at his phone, pretending to reply to messages or look something up—using this facade of busyness as an excuse to linger a few minutes longer.
“I actually have something to say…” Zhu Lianzhen finally looked up.
Tan Qing was pouring water. When he heard the voice, he paused and turned to face him. “Hm?”
Zhu Lianzhen met his eyes in silence. His mind started to race: This is Tan Qing. He never gets angry. So why am I nervous? If I act timid, he’ll definitely take advantage of it. I can’t give him that chance!
As a result, his expression shifted. He raised his head, puffed out his chest, and spoke with newfound confidence. “You probably know what I want to ask, right?”
“…” Tan Qing held the ceramic cup in his hand, staying in that posture for a few seconds before replying softly, “No, I don’t.”
Zhu Lianzhen thought: Good. He’s on the defensive now. Whatever I ask, he’ll have to answer.
“You really don’t know? Didn’t you install dozens of cameras in the house? You should’ve seen what I did when I was there that day.”
Tan Qing put down the cup and said, “The surveillance software detected someone passing by and sent me a notification. That’s how I noticed you were there so quickly. As for what you did in the house, I didn’t pay attention. I was busy filming a scene at the time.”
After explaining, he even looked confused and asked, “Why?”
Zhu Lianzhen froze for a moment before saying, “I swept the floor for you.”
“Really? Thank you.”
Zhu Lianzhen’s voice suddenly rose. “I swept up broken glass.”
“You didn’t cut your hand, did you?”
Seeing that he was still acting like it had nothing to do with him, Zhu Lianzhen stood up and walked a bit closer. “Was that the cup I used before?”
Tan Qing seemed to think about it. “I don’t remember.”
Zhu Lianzhen’s lips twitched. Damn it. He’s not following my script. He’s not even hesitating.
Indirect probing clearly didn’t suit him, so Zhu Lianzhen had no choice but to be blunt. “When we broke up, did you hate me?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Zhu Lianzhen felt his face heat up. He instantly regretted asking—this kind of topic only made things awkward for both of them. He hadn’t even eased into it with a few opening lines.
“Was it because I said something harsh back then that made you uncomfortable?” Since he had already started, Zhu Lianzhen had no choice but to bite the bullet and keep going. “Honestly… I’ve forgotten most of what happened at the time. If there was really something that made you hate me, just say it.”
He tentatively met Tan Qing’s gaze and saw his brows furrowed—it was unclear whether from confusion or contemplation.
Soon, Tan Qing’s expression relaxed, and helplessness filled his eyes.
He looked straight at Zhu Lianzhen and gave a soft laugh. “It would’ve been nice if I could’ve hated you.”
Zhu Lianzhen’s ability to comprehend anything momentarily failed him. But of course, he played it cool and replied breezily, “It’s not too late to hate me now.”
The smile disappeared from Tan Qing’s face, though the natural curve of his lips still made him look gentle. “Xiao Zhu, even if I hated myself, I wouldn’t hate you.”
Zhu Lianzhen: “Now you’re just being polite. I’m being serious here.”
Tan Qing replied, “So I’m being fake, then?”
Before Zhu Lianzhen could respond, Tan Qing added meaningfully, “Forget it. You already know what kind of person I am.”
Zhu Lianzhen was speechless.
Still pretending not to care! He just threw my own words back at me!
“I just said that without thinking…” Zhu Lianzhen muttered. “Everyone’s got flaws, but we’re all constantly changing. You can’t judge someone’s whole character based on a few moments, right?”
Now even he was starting to sound polite.
Tan Qing didn’t respond. He just kept looking at him.
Zhu Lianzhen knew arguing just for the sake of winning wasn’t the point. He didn’t want Tan Qing holding onto grudges from the past, as it would always put distance between them. So after a moment of thought, he figured he might as well apologize sincerely and finally turn the page.
But before the words “I’m sorry” could make it from his brain to his mouth, Tan Qing, as if reading his mind, stopped him. “Xiao Zhu, don’t apologize to me.”
Zhu Lianzhen was genuinely startled. What the hell, can you read minds?
“I never thought there was anything wrong with what you said. Back then, you were in a tough spot, with a lot on your mind. Even if you said something rash in the moment, I understood,” Tan Qing continued. “And with the kind of relationship we had, even if you were harsh sometimes, I figured it was just your way of trying to deal with your feelings.”
He looked steadily at Zhu Lianzhen and added, “As for me, at most I’d feel down for a while, then I’d bounce back. I knew that wasn’t what you really meant.”
“Stop talking.” Zhu Lianzhen’s ears were burning. The more he listened, the more it felt like Tan Qing was trying to embarrass him on purpose with his choice of words.
He turned his head away to avoid eye contact, stood in silence for a moment, then looked back at Tan Qing with defiance. “I am going to apologize!”
This time, Zhu Lianzhen had made up his mind. He told Tan Qing, “When I say ‘I’m sorry,’ it’s because I know I didn’t handle things well before. Whether you hold it against me or not, that’s your business.”
Most people try to find a way out when apologizing, but Zhu Lianzhen just threw himself into the deep end. That was his personality: not good at backing down, and even worse when it came to Tan Qing.
“Just this once,” he continued, his tone softening as he looked Tan Qing straight in the eye, “I’m giving you one chance to complain about me. If you don’t say it today, I won’t bring it up again.”
Tan Qing still didn’t budge. He asked, “What’s the point of you caring about this?”
“No point. It’s just that leaving something unresolved makes me uncomfortable,” Zhu Lianzhen replied honestly. “And besides, only if we talk it out can we keep being…”
Keep being what? Friends? Zhu Lianzhen got stuck on the word. The days when they were just regular friends felt too far away now, and even “keep being” felt like the wrong phrase.
Tan Qing: “Teammates.”
Zhu Lianzhen: “Hm?”
“Only if we talk it out can we keep being teammates,” Tan Qing repeated.
Their relationship had dropped a level, and “teammates” sounded just a little more intimate than “coworkers.” The air seemed to freeze. Both of them fell silent at once.
Zhu Lianzhen pressed his lips together. After a long while, he mumbled, “Why not friends?”
“Do you think that’s possible?” Tan Qing asked with a smile.
Zhu Lianzhen asked back, “Is it hard?”
“Friends are supposed to be honest with each other. But we’re not.” The smile faded from Tan Qing’s face, though a trace of light still lingered in his eyes. “Like how you came here wanting to ask me something, but lied and said you were just visiting the set.”
His thoughts exposed, Zhu Lianzhen’s eyelid twitched involuntarily.
“Well, I’m already here—what’s the difference?” he said.
Tan Qing lowered his head, holding the cup with both hands, his gaze fixed on the reflection in the water. “I thought you really came because you wanted to see me.”
The undisguised loneliness in his voice genuinely shook Zhu Lianzhen.
“I did want to see you, because…”
—Because it’s Mother’s Day today, and I was afraid the day might stir up memories and make you feel sad.
“…Because Pei-jie said we needed to keep up appearances. Otherwise, I would’ve just messaged you on WeChat. Why would I bother coming all the way here?”
Tan Qing raised the cup and took a sip of water. “We already took the promo photos.”
“Oh.” Zhu Lianzhen instinctively checked his pocket, making sure he had his phone and keys.
Was that a hint for him to leave? Or a subtle way of asking him to stay? Zhu Lianzhen wasn’t sure. Trying to sound natural, he blurted out, “Then I’ll get going?”
“Drive safe,” Tan Qing said, offering no further reaction.
Sitting in the car, Zhu Lianzhen couldn’t help but think: Why did everything have to go so wrong?
The question he cared about remained unanswered; the person he cared about didn’t need his company. In the end, he really had just come here to visit the set.
When he was about to post a photo on Weibo, he started flipping through the pictures he had just taken of Tan Qing.
The contrast in the image was strong. Afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window, landing right on the right side of Tan Qing’s body. His gaze wasn’t focused on the camera but slightly shifted upward.
It was obvious he had been looking at the person taking the photo.
The car was parked casually by the roadside, getting a bit hot under the sun. Zhu Lianzhen turned down the air conditioning, hesitated with his phone in hand, and moved his finger from “Post” to “Cancel.”
He selfishly thought: This photo didn’t turn out that well. Better not post it for the fans to see.
–
Everyone had been living in the new dorm for a while now, and there was still a lot of equipment left unused, like a full barbecue setup. They all agreed to have a barbecue that evening on the second-floor terrace. Right next to it was the pool, already disinfected, perfect for an early summer night.
They split up the tasks of washing vegetables and cutting meat. While Zhu Lianzhen was preparing the sauces, he heard someone sigh, “It’d be great if Tan Qing was here.”
To his teammates, Tan Qing was basically the embodiment of reliability. Anything they were bad at or didn’t want to do could always be entrusted to him without worry.
Zhu Lianzhen stirred the sauce with his chopsticks and muttered, “He’s not our housekeeper. Why do you all expect him to do everything?”
Fu Rong replied lightly, “Weren’t you the one who bossed him around the most?”
Zhu Lianzhen: “When have I ever?”
Koty chimed in too. “I saw it with my own eyes—you even had him wipe your mouth.”
“That was only because there wasn’t a mirror!” Zhu Lianzhen flatly denied it. “You really remembered something that small?”
The sky gradually darkened, the grill filled the air with a rich aroma, and all the lights on the terrace lit up, casting overlapping shadows.
Zhu Lianzhen picked up a freshly grilled skewer, but as soon as he took a bite, he frowned. “What kind of mushroom is this? Weren’t you supposed to buy button mushrooms?”
Koty, who was in charge of buying ingredients, had brought back nearly every type of mushroom available at the market. “Button mushrooms are tiny and tasteless. If we’re eating mushrooms, we might as well go big.”
Zhu Lianzhen disliked how Koty always acted like he knew everything, but there wasn’t much he could do. Koty wasn’t a native-born Chinese, so he couldn’t even tell the difference between hot pot and skewers.
While they were gathered around enjoying the barbecue, Koty snapped a few photos and posted them on Weibo.
[Acemon Chen Maolin Koty: Feels like we could open a restaurant.][mfn]Chen Maolin is Koty’s Chinese name[/mfn]
Fans were thrilled, thinking the whole group was together, but a closer look revealed that one member was missing from the gathering.
So someone tagged Tan Qing: “Uh oh, looks like you got excluded.”
[You’re bold, aren’t you afraid solo stans will tear you apart?]
[It’s only when a group has good internal dynamics that fans dare to joke like this. Though A-Group’s relationships are terrible, so it’s even bolder.]
After posting on Weibo, Koty proudly showed off his new phone to the others. It was completely custom-made, with a design by a world-renowned designer. At a glance, it was clearly a tier above mass-produced phones.
Because of this, he had even learned the phrase “masterfully unique.”
“Let me see.” Fu Rong unceremoniously reached out his hand.
Koty was flattered. Normally, Fu Rong wouldn’t touch a faucet Koty had used without disinfecting it first. Yet now, he was actually willing to handle Koty’s personal belongings! What did that mean? It meant his standing in Fu Rong’s mind had clearly gone up.
“Is it waterproof?” Fu Rong asked.
“Of course,” Koty said smugly. “It’s even bulletproof.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before Fu Rong raised his arm without hesitation and tossed the phone into the pool—
With a soft plop, it splashed in the distance and vanished.
Koty let out a yell, dropped what he was holding, and sprinted toward the pool. “Turn on the lights! The lights!”
Unfortunately, no one paid him any mind. They were too busy enjoying the fresh barbecue.
Out of sympathy, Zhu Lianzhen recorded Koty’s frantic attempt to retrieve his phone from the water and added a suspenseful, eerie soundtrack with a clickbait-style caption: “BREAKING: A mysterious water monkey appears in a boy group’s dormitory pool!”
By the time the three of them had finished eating and drinking, Koty finally climbed out of the water clutching his soaked phone. Luckily, they lived in a lawful society; otherwise, when he claimed the phone was made with bulletproof glass, Fu Rong might’ve already loaded the gun.
Night had fully fallen.
Zhu Lianzhen walked to the window, just about to close it and draw the curtains, when he looked up and saw a huge object floating in midair.
It was a beautiful goldfish with a round head. Its delicate white scales were layered neatly, and its outline shimmered faintly in the breeze.
It swam and weaved between two buildings. Zhu Lianzhen stood at the window admiring it for a few seconds, then noticed that at some point, large seaweed-like plants had sprouted from the ground. They definitely hadn’t been there earlier in the day.
He pulled the curtains shut and was about to go downstairs to get some water. But as he turned around, he hesitated and stopped—the door had moved farther away.
Yet as he slowly walked toward it, everything else in the room remained exactly the same.
Zhu Lianzhen realized that the door hadn’t changed, but he had shrunk.
Why had his body become smaller?
He stared at the floor, deep in thought, but couldn’t come to a clear conclusion. He figured maybe it was just something that happened with age. Maybe people just shrank over time.
—He had no idea that the sensory signals his brain was receiving were already malfunctioning.
Oh no, must have been Koty’s mushrooms!
Looking forward to the next chap! Thank you for translating. 😀