FIG CHAPTER 30

“Sure.”

It wasn’t an unreasonable request, so of course Zhu Lianzhen could oblige. The only problem was that Tan Qing was taller than him, and giving a proper, straightforward hug wasn’t exactly easy—first of all, he had to discreetly stand on his tiptoes.

Ugh, seriously, why does he have to be so tall?

Zhu Lianzhen raised his hands, debating whether to wrap one arm around Tan Qing’s shoulder or both arms around his back. He wasn’t sure which would make him look more confident.

But before he could decide, Tan Qing had already taken the next step for him. Zhu Lianzhen suddenly realized Tan Qing’s arms were wrapped around his lower back. If Tan Qing so much as pulled him a little closer, he’d be pressed right up against his chest.

He hadn’t expected this kind of hug and immediately felt like he’d been tricked.

Still, Tan Qing didn’t do anything more, and the two of them maintained a somewhat appropriate distance. Zhu Lianzhen’s whole body tensed instinctively, and he subtly leaned his upper back away. “Is this how people in your family comfort others with a hug?”

Maybe the resistance in his tone was too obvious, because Tan Qing lowered his eyes and echoed what Zhu Lianzhen had said earlier, a hint of teasing in his voice, “‘There’s no need for us to keep such a deliberate distance’?”

Zhu Lianzhen let out a couple of dry laughs. “But that doesn’t mean we need to suddenly get this close.”

“Then you should’ve said no outright,” Tan Qing replied. “You should have refused me when I asked for a hug.”

He said it lightly, but Zhu Lianzhen couldn’t help thinking: With those gloomy eyes you gave me, how was I ever supposed to say no?

“I’m just a soft-hearted person by nature,” Zhu Lianzhen said. “Who knew you’d push your luck…”

He had barely finished the sentence when he felt Tan Qing’s arms tighten around his waist, pulling them even closer.

This was bad. It really seemed like Tan Qing was doing it on purpose now.

“It’s not too late. If you push me away now, I won’t come near you again.”

Tan Qing’s voice was soft, giving nothing away. Then he tilted his head slightly, bringing his gaze level with Zhu Lianzhen’s. Their hair brushed together, and Zhu Lianzhen could feel Tan Qing’s breath.

He looked into Tan Qing’s eyes. They were calmly fixed on him, as if watching and analyzing him. There was a quiet pressure in that gaze, like nothing he did could go unnoticed.

Zhu Lianzhen didn’t even realize his face was heating up, probably red all the way to his ears. Tan Qing was holding him so tightly now that there wasn’t even space to lean away. If he wanted to get out, he’d have to push.

—If you push me away now, I won’t come near you again.

The correct course of action was obvious, but Zhu Lianzhen didn’t act on it right away.

He didn’t even know what he was hesitating over. And in that hesitation, a strange thought crept in: Did he mean he wouldn’t get closer this time… or that he would never get closer again?

No, wait. Why was he even letting his thoughts follow Tan Qing’s lead? It felt like the moment he dropped his guard, Tan Qing had taken hold of all his attention without him even realizing it.

“You’re acting… a little strange today,” Zhu Lianzhen said tentatively.

He didn’t expect Tan Qing to immediately ask, “Am I the only one acting strange?”

Zhu Lianzhen had no reply.

Yes, judging by the current situation, both of them were acting strange.

Whether it was Tan Qing’s ambiguous advances or his own wavering, caused by Tan Qing… it was all a bit too obvious.

Logic told him to maintain a proper distance from Tan Qing, but the moment he looked into those eyes, Zhu Lianzhen knew there was no way their relationship could return to normal.

Reason could restrain every inappropriate action, but the desire to get closer always lurked quietly in the heart.

Zhu Lianzhen struggled to handle the dangerous atmosphere between them. He silently took a deep breath and grasped the arms Tan Qing had wrapped around his back.

Rather than using brute force to push him away, Zhu Lianzhen still preferred to maintain some composure.

The moment their fingertips touched, Tan Qing blinked, then let go of him cooperatively.

So, Zhu Lianzhen separated from the inappropriate hug with barely any effort, and then, as if under some strange compulsion, pinched Tan Qing’s knuckle.

Tan Qing withdrew his hand and lifted the corner of his mouth in a smile that looked a bit strained and helpless.

Zhu Lianzhen expected Tan Qing to say a few polite words of apology like before, and the two of them would tacitly dissolve the tension of the moment.

But Tan Qing didn’t. He lowered his head, adjusted his sleeve, and said calmly, “Try to eat easily digestible food during the recovery period. Take a few more days to rest.”

He changed the topic so naturally that Zhu Lianzhen almost didn’t realize he was giving post-food poisoning advice.

Tan Qing was so composed, it was as if nothing had happened just moments ago.

But Zhu Lianzhen had come precisely because he was worried about Tan Qing’s condition, and yet Tan Qing hadn’t said a word about himself. Not even a passing comment like, “I’m tired,” “I’m annoyed,” or “I’m fine.” Even one of those would have let Zhu Lianzhen know he wasn’t bottling everything up alone.

“Why do you never talk to me about your matters?”

Zhu Lianzhen blurted it out before he could stop himself.

He had noticed that Tan Qing always used distractions to blur out all his personal emotions.

Maybe it was just Tan Qing’s habit to conceal himself and not trouble others, but Zhu Lianzhen had thought… at the very least, he’d trust him a bit more.

Forget it.

Zhu Lianzhen didn’t want past conflicts to affect their current relationship. He let it go, shrugged his shoulders as if it were no big deal, and avoided looking at Tan Qing, keeping a smile on his face. “Oh, right. Thanks for the reminder—I still haven’t settled the score with Koty. He landed me in the hospital, so I’ll make him treat me for a whole month.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the room at a brisk pace.

“My matters have never been important,” came Tan Qing’s voice from behind.

Zhu Lianzhen turned to glance at him and saw that he was looking at him with a serious expression.

“Not even to myself,” Tan Qing added. “They’re not worth mentioning.”

But most of what people said to one another, if you really broke it down, was unnecessary, wasn’t it?

So even if it’s not important, you can still talk about it. And I can still listen.

Zhu Lianzhen thought this quietly to himself, then looked away. His face showed no further reaction as he left in silence.

–

After strictly following the doctor’s advice and resting for a few days, Zhu Lianzhen finally made a full recovery. To reassure the fans who had been worried about him, Pei Qiao temporarily started a livestream on the official website.

That day, Zhu Lianzhen wore a plain black shirt with the collar unbuttoned and a simple necklace, making him look a bit more mature than usual. As soon as he sat down in front of the camera, fans went wild, and the comment section exploded.

[Holy crap, so handsome. No more calling him mei—I’m calling him ge!][mfn]mei = little sister, ge = big brother[/mfn]

[Lianlian gege QAQ]

[Babe, are you feeling better?]

Zhu Lianzhen scanned ten lines of comments at a glance, yet still managed to pick out one and read it aloud: “‘You look like one of those dumb rich second-generation heirs who think they’re a total stud but end up getting scammed out of money and love’…”

“What kind of comment is that?!” Zhu Lianzhen slapped the table and stood up. “Why can’t I be a domineering CEO?”

[If a domineering CEO still gets scammed out of money and love, that’s just stupid]

[Baby, can you have some self-awareness? Who exactly are you bossing around?]

Zhu Lianzhen snorted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fu Rong walking by and called him over to join the stream. Fu Rong had nothing better to do anyway, so he came over and sat down to play on his phone. Every now and then, he would undercut Zhu Lianzhen with a deadpan comment, which livened up the stream’s atmosphere.

The viewer count kept climbing, including quite a few of Fu Rong’s fans. It was well known that his fanbase, much like Fu Rong himself, wasn’t afraid of offending anyone. Even when it came to Fu Rong, they didn’t hold back.

Most of the comment colors were either yellow or white, chosen to match each idol’s fan support color so they could read them more easily. But because of the color saturation, Zhu Lianzhen’s eyes were always drawn to Fu Rong’s fans’ comments first.

[I want to be Fu-laoshi’s dog.]

The comment was quite a shock. Zhu Lianzhen’s brain glitched for a moment, and he blurted it out, casually replying, “Then get in line behind Koty.”

Only after saying it did he realize that probably wasn’t appropriate, and he worried Koty’s fans might come for him in the chat. But the next second, Koty’s voice called out from the side room, “In your dreams! Only I’m allowed!”

The voice was full of energy and shameless confidence. Zhu Lianzhen couldn’t help but yell back, “You’re proud of that now? Have some shame!”

Fu Rong didn’t react at all, as if he was already used to it, calmly leaning against the sofa, playing on his phone.

[Fu-jie’s so focused on his phone. Is he gaming?]

[Judging by the finger movement, looks like he’s scrolling through short videos.]

[It’s hard to imagine Fu Rong getting into short videos. I always pictured him just browsing dark humor forums.]

[Exactly. He totally seems like the type who won’t even bother commenting “1” after laughing.]

Zhu Lianzhen was curious too, so he turned and asked, “What are you up to, all quiet over there?”

Fu Rong didn’t look up. “Booking a dentist appointment.”

Zhu Lianzhen: “That reminds me, I’ve been getting this sudden pain when I bite into something lately. I wonder if I’m growing a wisdom tooth.”

Fu Rong gave him a sidelong glance, then turned on the flashlight on his phone. Zhu Lianzhen obediently opened his mouth, pointed to the spot, and tilted his head back to let him take a look.

“No inflammation. Just get it pulled,” Fu Rong said bluntly.

The entire exchange lasted less than half a minute, but pink-colored comments started flooding the livestream chat almost immediately. Among the fanbase, there was always a subset who functioned like fully automated CP-shipping machines—give them even a sliver of interaction, and they’d spin it into fluff.

[? Totally caught off guard by this CP moment]

[An old ship I’d forgotten suddenly came back to attack me]

[That’s exactly how my mom checked my mouth when I had a toothache…]

[But like, is there even a 1 between the two of them?][mfn]1 = top, 0 = bottom[/mfn]

[Hot-tempered, homophobic rich second-gen top × cool, abstinent stepmom-beauty bottom. Seems like an obvious pairing to me.]

[Stfu if you don’t know how to ship. It’s clearly cold, sharp-tongued cool-jie top × tsundere, innocent spicy-meimei bottom]

[Wtf! How did this turn into yuri?]

[You guys need to stop. Both versions are so cringey they’re hard to stomach.]

[Ugh, here comes the QingZhen shippers again. As if your ship is the only valid one.]

[Beware of QingZhen stans pretending to be from other ships! I swear, I once clicked on a Fu Rong × Zhu Lianzhen stepmom fanfic expecting forbidden tension, but it turned out to be a parenting story. Literally just “Stepmother’s Heart in Spring.”[mfn]A TV drama about a stepmother’s resilience in the face of family hardships.[/mfn] Checked the author—yep, a QingZhen shipper trashing the tag again…]

…

By the time Zhu Lianzhen took a few sips of water and returned his attention to the chat, the comment section was already in full-blown argument mode. Half the fans were bickering; the other half were yelling “Stop spamming, keep it clean,” which only made the conflict more visible.

His own fans were still fairly restrained, not wanting him to see any vulgar messages. But Fu Rong’s fans were a different story. Just like their idol, they were headstrong—whenever there was a disagreement, they’d fight to the death, even within their own fan circle. Right now, they were arguing over Fu Rong’s gender: one group forbade fans from genderbending him, while the other insisted that following idols was for personal enjoyment and no one had the right to dictate how others engaged.

Zhu Lianzhen looked away from the barrage of comments, doing his best to ignore the strange remarks. Suddenly, Koty’s earlier comment about Fu Rong popped into his head: Angels are genderless.

Well, he’s definitely a guy in my head, but whether he has a nose or not, I’m not so sure. After all, Voldemort didn’t have one either. Zhu Lianzhen thought to himself.

The livestream didn’t last long. Its main purpose was just to let Zhu Lianzhen reassure everyone that he was okay. Since the chat had taken a turn, Pei Qiao had them wrap it up and go rest.

Fu Rong had a regular dental checkup scheduled, so Zhu Lianzhen tagged along. He’d had a tooth pulled as a kid and still harbored some fear of those buzzing dental tools. Fortunately, the dentist was skilled and finished the procedure in just a few minutes.

But once the anesthesia wore off, pain spread across half of Zhu Lianzhen’s face. He scooped some ice into a cup, pressed it against his cheek, slumped on the sofa groaning, and was in no mood to practice dancing.

Fu Rong was eating in the dining room, but every few seconds he’d hear a long, miserable wail from Zhu Lianzhen, which quickly made him lose his appetite. “If you’re gonna wail like a ghost, go do it somewhere else.”

Zhu Lianzhen pulled a pained face. “It really hurts! I’m dying here…”

Koty, who had never gotten wisdom teeth, strutted around proudly in front of Zhu Lianzhen, bragging about being a more evolved human. Nearly driven mad, Zhu Lianzhen mustered the strength to scold, “Your teeth probably knew you weren’t wise, that’s why they never came in! Hss—”

Laughing, Koty sat on the arm of the sofa and tossed him an ice cream. “Eat this, just bought it.”

Zhu Lianzhen threw it right back, still unopened. He didn’t dare eat anything from Koty anymore. He might be fine now, but who knew if he’d end up with an infection later.

“What’s the most painful thing in the world?” Zhu Lianzhen asked weakly.

Fu Rong thought for a moment. “Childbirth.”

Zhu Lianzhen: “Then I’m basically giving birth in my mouth right now.”

Koty immediately quipped, “Is the kid’s surname Tan?”

“Tch.” Zhu Lianzhen grabbed a few ice cubes and chucked them at Koty’s head. “Why wouldn’t my own kid have my surname?”

After goofing around for a while, Zhu Lianzhen started feeling hungry again, but unfortunately, he still couldn’t eat. He motioned for Koty to quiet down, then pointed at his stomach. “Can you hear it? My stomach’s growling.”

Fu Rong chimed in, “Fetal movement?”

“Can you two knock it off already?!” Zhu Lianzhen swiftly grabbed a pillow and chucked it at Fu Rong, who caught it one-handed.

The only time Fu Rong ever sided with Koty’s twisted sense of humor was when they were teasing Zhu Lianzhen.

Ji Yunting dragged his exhausted body back to the dorm from the company and listlessly informed the others that Acemon’s group variety show had been finalized and would start filming soon.

It was good news, yet no one could understand why their leader looked so dead inside. Ji Yunting clicked his tongue. “Do you guys know I was actually supposed to join a dating show around this time? The contract was finalized last year, but now Pei-jie terminated it on my behalf.”

Koty half-heartedly comforted him, “What’s the point of a dating show where you just get paired with one female guest? In the group variety show, you can pick from four.”

Ji Yunting raised his middle finger at him. “Get yourself castrated first, then I might consider you.”

After spending the whole afternoon icing his mouth, Zhu Lianzhen’s tooth finally stopped hurting enough for him to talk normally again. “Hold on. Why did they only call you to the meeting for the group variety show?”

That effectively reminded everyone.

Generally speaking, there were only two types of company meetings for Acemon. One was for core projects like new albums and concerts, where all members had to attend and give input. The other was when the company had already made the decision and didn’t need member feedback, so only the leader was summoned as a formality.

Based on their many years of battling wits and negotiating with the company, they all knew the second type usually meant the job wouldn’t be pleasant or easy.

Ji Yunting wasn’t the assertive type to begin with. Once he clocked in, all he thought about was when he could clock out. He just went along with whatever Pei Qiao said, and as a result, the entire team always had to share the consequences whenever things went sideways.

Ji Yunting said, “Relax, I specifically checked this time. A lot of the production crew are people we’ve worked with before.”

“What’s so reassuring about that?” Fu Rong said. “Is there anyone we’ve worked with who doesn’t hate us?”

Ji Yunting went silent.

Koty echoed, “Exactly. What if they already have a bad impression and deliberately edit us to look like we’re fighting?”

Zhu Lianzhen: “With the way our group dynamics are, do you really think there’s any editing needed to make it look worse?”

Koty shut up too.

A new season of their group variety show was definitely a good thing. Their promotional cycle had already passed, and appearing on screen together more often would help attract new fans.

On the evening of the first recording day, a light rain began to fall, and the sky was a little gloomy.

Several SUVs were parked outside the dorm, each marked with a sticker reading “Ace Park – Season 5.” Ji Yunting picked the largest one, and Zhu Lianzhen followed closely behind. When he opened the door, he found Tan Qing already seated inside.

The driver had picked him up straight from the film set. He had clearly just finished shooting—his hair looked freshly washed and blow-dried.

Zhu Lianzhen deliberately bent down to adjust his shoelaces, causing Ji Yunting to get into the car first and sit between him and Tan Qing.

They hadn’t spoken in the past few days. Partly because they hadn’t seen much of each other, and partly because when they did, the awkwardness from their last encounter still lingered.

It wasn’t just in Zhu Lianzhen’s head. Whenever he avoided Tan Qing, Tan Qing seemed to be avoiding him too.

Zhu Lianzhen figured that was probably for the best.

The two of them couldn’t go back to just being normal friends. Either they stepped forward again, which would only lead back into a secret relationship, or they each stepped back and gave their breakup from two years ago a proper ending.

Clearly, the second option was safer.

Not wanting the car ride to feel too quiet, Zhu Lianzhen asked Ji Yunting about the dating show he’d almost joined. Ji Yunting immediately launched into a long rant.

Zhu Lianzhen pretended to listen attentively, but his gaze drifted past him and landed on Tan Qing’s profile.

Tan Qing was staring out the window, not participating in the conversation.

What was there to look at outside, anyway? The car hadn’t even started moving.

When Ji Yunting finally finished complaining, Zhu Lianzhen nodded as if he’d been paying full attention and pulled his gaze back.

Several of the other cars had already departed. The crew hadn’t revealed the filming location, but judging by the route, Zhu Lianzhen guessed they were heading toward the outskirts of the city.

Tired of watching the scenery, he blinked and suddenly noticed that the car window was tinted and quite reflective. He hadn’t realized it earlier.

Zhu Lianzhen immediately saw Tan Qing’s silhouette reflected in the glass.

He didn’t know if the other side of the car had the same kind of window, so he turned his head to look.

As if sensing something, Tan Qing also turned at that exact moment. Their eyes met.

Zhu Lianzhen quickly looked away and lowered his head.

“Today’s Qingming Festival, isn’t it?”[mfn]During Qingming Festival, families visit the tombs of their ancestors to clean the gravesites and make offerings[/mfn]

The moment Ji Yunting spoke, whatever ambiguous tension had been building in the car vanished instantly.

Both people beside him stayed silent.

Ji Yunting went on, sighing, “Ugh, going to work feels like heading to a grave. Am I right or what?”

When it came to ruining a mood, he was a professional.

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