FIG CHAPTER 62.2

Once, Tan Qing was performing with the university theater troupe and accidentally missed a step on stage. The fall wasn’t serious, and a bit of anti-swelling cream was enough for him to continue performing. Still, the school insisted on taking him to the hospital for scans to confirm there was no internal injury.

Pei Qiao rushed over immediately. Tan Qing reassured her, “It’s just a little bruise.”

Not long after, Tan Qing saw a headline in the entertainment news about his hospital visit, with the article praising his professionalism for performing while injured.

It wasn’t hard to guess that the publicity was orchestrated by the company. Not only could it help further shape the idol’s image, but it could also elicit sympathy from fans.

In the industry, this tactic was commonly known as “playing the pity card.”

Pei Qiao had told them before that a fan’s loyalty deepened as their emotions went up and down. A competent idol’s greatest strength lay in mastering more of their fans’ emotions. Joy alone wasn’t enough; there also needed to be compassion, anger, regret, heartache… Once fans experienced every kind of feeling for you, your place in their hearts became unshakable. That kind of love would be hard to let go of.

Tan Qing understood the commercial strategy behind it. As a popular idol in the public eye, it was his responsibility to manage the “Tan Qing” persona seriously.

Still, he couldn’t help but question why people’s affection needed to be validated through tears? If it were up to him, surely those who smiled sincerely were more deserving of love.

Zhu Lianzhen had just wrapped up shooting a soda commercial. He hurried home, having arranged to meet Tan Qing for barbecue at his place. Tan Qing didn’t mind that he’d be a bit late and even asked curiously how the shoot went.

“Don’t even get me started, it was so awkward!” Zhu Lianzhen washed his hands, splashing some cold water on his cheeks. “I thought I just had to recite a few lines to the camera, fake-drink a few sips of soda, and that’d be it. But when I got the script, it turned out I had to act in a scene with other actors!”

There were two things Zhu Lianzhen was worst at: lying and acting. He was born with a kind of unpolished edge and a solid sense of self, never the type to easily mold himself into someone he’s not.

But when work demanded him to face a challenge, Zhu Lianzhen never backed down. He followed the director’s instructions, memorized the ad lines step by step, and confidently delivered his performance in front of the camera.

The original shoot had wrapped up, but the collaborators earnestly asked the artist’s team if they could film two additional versions as backups.

That wasn’t part of the signed contract, and they were already pushing past the scheduled time, so naturally the staff rejected the unreasonable request. Still, Zhu Lianzhen patiently listened to the director’s vision and ultimately decided to stay and finish the extra takes. He said he wouldn’t take additional pay for the overtime; the extra compensation should go to the crew as overtime wages. He just wanted the commercial to come out a bit more polished.

He texted Tan Qing to say he’d be home later. With his work efficiency, he knew Tan Qing wouldn’t be left waiting hungry anyway.

Unexpectedly, the next scene turned out to be particularly difficult. The director had arranged a moment where he had to sit on a bench and gaze into the eyes of an actress, slowly leaning in until they were just close enough for a bottle of soda to fit between their faces.

Making eye contact and getting close weren’t hard, but what really mattered was how to convey that sweet atmosphere between a man and a woman through subtle eye movements and facial expressions. His scene partner was a top actress in the industry and patiently worked through take after take with him. After every slip-up, Zhu Lianzhen’s face flushed red, and he didn’t dare to look her in the eye.

Even recalling the scene later made Zhu Lianzhen feel a surge of embarrassment. He vented to Tan Qing, “It was so hard! You know, when two people are that close, it’s actually impossible to focus on the other person’s eyes? My vision was just a blur, and I had no idea where I was supposed to be looking.”

Tan Qing asked, “How close?”

Zhu Lianzhen turned his face toward him and leaned in, “About this close, maybe even a bit closer.”

He was just casually demonstrating, but Tan Qing leaned in even closer, softly adding, “Like this? I can still see your eyes clearly.”

Zhu Lianzhen went momentarily blank and instinctively followed Tan Qing’s words, saying, “Maybe it still isn’t close enough.”

Tan Qing smiled faintly. “Any closer and we’d be kissing.”

That was when Zhu Lianzhen realized they were already about as close as the two characters had been in the commercial scene.

He gave a forced laugh, turned his face away, and changed the subject. “I’m starving. Let’s eat.”

Every time Zhu Lianzhen wrapped up a phase of work, he liked to call friends over for a meal. Originally, he had wanted to invite a few more people today, but considering Tan Qing wasn’t familiar with them and a short dinner wouldn’t be enough for everyone to get to know one another, he decided to skip it to avoid any awkward silences.

Zhu Lianzhen did intend to introduce Tan Qing to his other friends eventually. It all started because quite a few people around him thought Tan Qing seemed unapproachable. They said he appeared flawless in every aspect, and even as an idol, the lack of any ordinary human quirks made him feel intimidating. No one could guess what kind of person he was in private.

Every time Zhu Lianzhen heard people’s comments about Tan Qing, he couldn’t help but laugh. In his eyes, Tan Qing wasn’t nearly as mysterious or exaggerated as they made him out to be. He wouldn’t refute them on the spot, but just come back and tease the person in question, “What now? People say you’re pretty much perfect.”

Tan Qing would ask in return, “Do I have any flaws you can’t accept?”

“You’ve got plenty of flaws, but none I can’t deal with… wait, actually, there is one!” Zhu Lianzhen pointed at the dish of chili powder with the tip of his chopsticks. “You can’t eat spicy food.”

Tan Qing paused slightly with his chopsticks, lowered his gaze, and responded with an “Mm.”

A few seconds later, he suddenly asked, “How did you know that?”

Zhu Lianzhen raised his eyebrows at him, clearly pleased with himself, wearing an expression that said “Check out this superior memory of mine.”

He told Tan Qing, “A couple of times when we had hot pot, I saw you always had a bowl of water ready. And you hardly ever order dishes with chili.”

“Mm.” Tan Qing gave a faint smile.

He hadn’t expected Zhu Lianzhen to remember such a small detail, and he hadn’t even paid much attention to his own food preferences.

The reason he rarely ate spicy food was simply to protect his throat. It wasn’t that he disliked it or couldn’t handle it. He wasn’t particularly picky when it came to eating.

But since Zhu Lianzhen had taken the time to observe his tastes and was willing to accommodate him, Tan Qing didn’t feel the need to clarify. He simply accepted the label.

After dinner, the two of them cleaned up the tray and dishes together. Zhu Lianzhen wanted a cup of hot cocoa. Once the hot water was ready, he remembered he didn’t have any ceramic mugs. He had only moved in last week, and was still buying household items as he went.

There were two free glass cups he got with a drink purchase earlier, so he made do with those. While stirring in the cocoa powder, he chatted with Tan Qing about plans for their day off. He wanted to go camping, maybe even try diving, and wasn’t sure if Tan Qing would be interested.

“Sounds fun,” Tan Qing naturally agreed to go with him.

Zhu Lianzhen took a sip of the hot cocoa. Just then, his phone rang. He put the glass down and went to check. It was a friend he danced with, asking him for advice about an upcoming competition abroad. Zhu Lianzhen, being experienced, patiently answered all of the questions one by one.

As the conversation wrapped up, he realized it had been a while since they last saw each other, so he started chatting about everyday life. Then he casually asked, “Hey, do you want to go camping?”

He wasn’t far from Tan Qing while taking the call, so Tan Qing heard everything clearly—especially how the topic they had just been discussing was now being extended to include someone new.

Tan Qing understood. Zhu Lianzhen was probably trying to introduce him to new friends and to help him integrate into his circle. For someone as fond of lively atmospheres as Zhu Lianzhen, a trip with just the two of them might seem too dull.

The glass in Tan Qing’s hand was filled more than halfway with hot water. The scalding temperature pressed directly into his palm through the thin glass. He tightened his grip. The pain was still within tolerable limits. He didn’t know why, but every time his emotions were on the verge of fluctuation, he subconsciously relied on this method to keep himself calm. It had nearly become a habit.

He didn’t notice that this glass, just a promotional freebie, was poorly made. As the hot water expanded it and his hand applied inward pressure, the cup was already at the brink of cracking.

Bang—!

The next second, shards of glass burst from his palm and scattered across the floor.

The sudden sound caught not only Zhu Lianzhen’s attention, but even Tan Qing himself was startled. He looked down and saw that a few shallow cuts had been sliced into his palm by the shattered glass, with beads of blood already seeping out.

Zhu Lianzhen saw the red streaks clearly, frowned, and quickly said, “Something came up, so I’ll hang up,” then set his phone down and walked over to Tan Qing.

“I’ll go find the first aid kit. Press on it with a tissue for now.” He grabbed the first aid kit, took out a bandage, and wrapped it around Tan Qing’s wound.

Tan Qing was about to say, “I can do it myself,” but when he noticed the deep furrow between Zhu Lianzhen’s brows and the worried look in his eyes, he silently held back the words.

“Was the water too hot? These glasses are of terrible quality. I should’ve picked up new ones on the way back.” Zhu Lianzhen gently cleaned the wound with alcohol swabs and applied burn ointment. “Good thing the cuts aren’t deep. It doesn’t hurt, right?”

Zhu Lianzhen looked up at him. His eyes were always bright, especially when he was curious; he’d fix his gaze intently on the person he was talking to.

Tan Qing turned his face slightly to meet those eyes, gave a wry smile, and said, “It really hurts.”

“Hang in there, almost done.” Zhu Lianzhen lightened his touch even more, carefully applying the bandage and looking up again.

Because Tan Qing had tilted his head, the two of them were sitting closer than usual. Zhu Lianzhen suddenly recalled what Tan Qing had said earlier, “Any closer and we’d be kissing.”

He couldn’t focus on Tan Qing’s eyes anymore, but he could clearly see his lips. They were naturally curved, with a beautiful upward line.

Just then, Tan Qing slightly adjusted his posture. Zhu Lianzhen panicked for a split second, almost thinking he was about to lean in and kiss him.

The thought was absurd, and he couldn’t help but be impressed by where his brain went.

But what made him even more restless was that, in that moment, he hadn’t even thought about dodging.

Tan Qing gently curled his fingers and asked, “How many people are you planning to invite on the trip?”

“Depends who’s free.” Zhu Lianzhen mentally went through a list. “Not too many. You don’t know them, after all. But I think there are a few people you’d probably get along with.”

“You mean, personality-wise?”

“Not exactly. More like they get along with me, so by extension, they’ll definitely like you too.”

“Because you like me?”

Zhu Lianzhen faltered for a moment.

As a friend, of course he liked Tan Qing. But at that moment, he couldn’t help associating the word “like” with something beyond friendship, and that made him hesitate, which really shouldn’t have happened.

He deflected the question. “A lot of people think you’re hard to approach and come off as distant. But you’re not like that at all. I want everyone to know that, in private, you’re even more interesting than you are on TV. More—”

Zhu Lianzhen paused to find the right word, then added, “More real.”

It was the first time in Tan Qing’s life that someone had ever described him with that word.

Spoken so naturally and calmly from Zhu Lianzhen’s lips, Tan Qing’s emotions became complicated.

He should have realized it long ago. Zhu Lianzhen possessed a kind of pure and unblemished nature that no one could dull his innate spirit. He approached people without defense, always exchanging sincerity for sincerity.

It had to be because he had given so much of his genuine self that he believed others would be the same.

Meeting Zhu Lianzhen’s earnest gaze, Tan Qing realized that his own pretense had nowhere left to hide. But instead of panic, what came over him was an unexpected sense of relief.

But then a new worry crept in. He wasn’t sure just how much of his “real” self Zhu Lianzhen would be able to accept.

Is it really necessary to be this greedy?

He wondered in silence.

To want Zhu Lianzhen to accept his ordinariness, while also wanting to occupy that special place in his heart. It was both overreaching and self-indulgent.

And yet, staring into those eyes, he still wanted to try.

“I don’t want anyone else to come.”

Zhu Lianzhen heard Tan Qing say this.

“No matter where we go, I only want to go with you. Just the two of us.”

“Is that okay, Xiao Zhu?”