When the media announced that Fan Gerong had unilaterally breached his contract and left the group, Zhu Lianzhen was still napping. Once he woke up, it marked the beginning of several sleepless nights.
Pei Qiao told them all to keep calm and not make any statements. Zhu Lianzhen complied on social media, but privately, he was furious and had nowhere to vent his frustration.
Tan Qing asked him, “Do you want to go to Reykjavik now? The visa was finalized yesterday.”
“Now?” Zhu Lianzhen frowned, thinking he was joking. “Who’s in the mood for that right now?”
Tan Qing stayed by his side, listening to him complain about Fan Gerong.
Zhu Lianzhen received a call from Koty. The two of them shared the same opinion on Fan Gerong’s departure, and a stream of angry words came tumbling out. Just when Zhu Lianzhen started to feel a bit better, he suddenly heard Koty shouting in panic on the other end of the line.
He quickly asked, “What happened? Hello? Where are you?”
There were a few minutes of noise before Koty’s frustrated voice came through again, “I got rear-ended.”
Zhu Lianzhen: “You were driving just now?”
“Talk later.” Koty hung up.
“You—” Zhu Lianzhen was speechless. Yet another teammate who couldn’t be left alone. He tossed his phone aside, more irritated than before.
After a long silence, Zhu Lianzhen gave in to a reckless impulse and said to Tan Qing, “Let’s just go.”
Tan Qing: “Go where?”
“You said the visa’s done, didn’t you? Let’s go to Iceland now,” Zhu Lianzhen said. “Let’s stay away for as many days as we can. The new album is definitely getting shelved, so there’s no work coming up. Only news, endless news, annoying news… and interviews. I don’t want the media to get hold of me.”
Zhu Lianzhen muttered, sighing in frustration, “Let’s go.”
He made no effort to hide his desire to escape, nor did he realize just how much his eyes were leaning on Tan Qing for support.
“Alright, I’ll book the tickets and we’ll leave tomorrow,” Tan Qing said.
Zhu Lianzhen nodded, and for a moment, the restlessness in his chest eased miraculously. He felt deeply relieved that Tan Qing was always there with him.
Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned. Before tomorrow arrived, their impulsive trip had to be postponed.
That afternoon, Pei Qiao called Tan Qing and summoned him to the company. Zhu Lianzhen didn’t know what needed to be handled. As midnight approached, Tan Qing still hadn’t come back, and he hadn’t sent a single message.
Zhu Lianzhen began to worry. After thinking it over, he contacted Pei Qiao, who told him that they were currently in the company’s legal department. Trusting his instincts, he asked, “Is it because of Fan Gerong?”
Pei Qiao replied, “Yes. Before leaving, Fan Gerong tried to speak with Tan Qing. The lawyers are confirming the details with him.”
Zhu Lianzhen was stunned and only managed a hesitant “Ah” after a long pause. “That can’t be, right? Those two weren’t even that close.”
“We discovered it while checking the surveillance footage,” Pei Qiao said. “If you’re curious, you can come to the company too. After all, Fan Gerong’s situation is closely related to all of you. Has he done anything else that violated the contract? If you remember anything, let me know.”
Fan Gerong’s sudden departure affected the interests of the entire Acemon group, and Zhu Lianzhen had never imagined that Tan Qing would cover for a traitor.
Even if he hid it from everyone else, that was one thing. But why was he also kept in the dark?
After hanging up, Zhu Lianzhen was in disbelief. He barely gave himself time to think before driving straight to the company.
He hadn’t even made it to the legal department when he ran into Chu Yu’s secretary in the elevator. The secretary suddenly called out to him and said, “CEO Chu was thinking of asking you to come in tomorrow. He’s in his office right now. It’s best if you go see him.”
Zhu Lianzhen responded with a puzzled “Alright.” Normally, they only saw CEO Chu during the company’s annual meetings; he rarely interacted with the artists one-on-one.
Glancing at the time, Zhu Lianzhen decided to see the highest-ranking figure first.
It was ten o’clock at night, and the building of Zuige Entertainment was still brightly lit. Everyone working overtime was scrambling to deal with the fallout of Fan Gerong’s contract termination, contacting people across the industry to handle various matters.
Chu Yu finished responding to a subordinate, set down the landline receiver, looked at Zhu Lianzhen seated across from him, and asked, “Do you have any explanation for these photos?”
From the moment he sat down, Zhu Lianzhen felt like all the blood in his body was flowing in reverse. Photo after photo proving his romantic relationship with Tan Qing was spread across the desk, glaringly obvious.
He was drained of color and didn’t dare lift his head to meet Chu Yu’s gaze. But Chu Yu simply gave a faint smile. “Tan Qing is still stalling, isn’t he?”
Zhu Lianzhen froze. “What do you mean?”
“He promised me earlier that he’d handle this matter with you. But I had someone keep an eye on you both over the past few days, and I’m guessing he never brought it up.” Chu Yu’s eyes shifted to the photos on the desk. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be reacting like this.”
Upon hearing that, Zhu Lianzhen was in disbelief. Without warning, his trust in Tan Qing shattered once again.
He barely registered the rest of what Chu Yu said. All he could think about was how Tan Qing had kept him in the dark twice now, and neither time was anything minor.
Not long after, someone knocked on the office door twice. Zhu Lianzhen didn’t even need to look. Just from the pattern and force of the knocking, he could tell it was Tan Qing.
Tan Qing walked in and sat down beside him.
Zhu Lianzhen tried to find a look of surprise on his face, one that matched his own, anything to prove that Chu Yu’s words might not be entirely true. But he found nothing. From beginning to end, Tan Qing remained calm and composed, as if he had anticipated this moment all along.
Chu Yu laced his fingers together and said unhurriedly, “Fan Gerong’s situation had a huge impact. The new album will have to be postponed. It probably won’t be released this year. Get ready for that.”
Zhu Lianzhen’s Adam’s apple bobbed slowly. “Mm.”
“You’re both in the spotlight right now. Don’t make any more mistakes.” Chu Yu looked at the two of them. “Break up for now.”
In the end, Chu Yu still favored them. Even when separating a couple, he gave them enough buffer time. He hoped they would appreciate it; there was no need to resort to force in matters like this.
After leaving the office, Zhu Lianzhen didn’t spare Tan Qing a single glance, as if he didn’t exist. Not until they reached the ground floor did he turn and toss his car keys to Tan Qing. “You drive.”
The two of them remained silent the entire way.
When the car stopped outside the villa they shared, Zhu Lianzhen belatedly realized it was at this exact spot that they had been secretly photographed by the stalker fan. He then recalled that Tan Qing had seemed to have noticed something that day, but he himself had overlooked it.
Once they were back inside, the atmosphere hadn’t gotten too tense yet. Zhu Lianzhen stared intently at Tan Qing’s back as he opened the refrigerator door and even asked if he wanted pomegranate juice.
Zhu Lianzhen used to find the sound of ice clinking against glass quite pleasant, but now it grated on his nerves. He lost control of his tone and shouted, “So you’re just pretending like everything’s fine?”
Tan Qing turned to look at him and said, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” That apology only made Zhu Lianzhen angrier. “What I want is an explanation. What’s the use of saying sorry? What were you thinking?”
Tan Qing stepped closer, his expression calm and unshaken, and said, “Fan Gerong promised me to discuss countermeasures with us in advance. Maybe something happened on his end, which is why—”
“Who asked about him? I don’t care what happened to him! Just tell me why you hid it from me… the thing about being photographed.” Images taken by the stalker fan flashed through Zhu Lianzhen’s mind again, making him feel both terrified and ashamed. “You got tons of harassing messages too, right? Since when? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”
Tan Qing stared straight at him and said slowly, “Even if I told you, what would be different from now?”
Zhu Lianzhen said, “We could’ve figured something out together!”
“Other than breaking up, is there a safer, more effective solution for you?” Tan Qing countered. “If I had told you everything, would you really have dismissed the idea of a breakup completely? At most, you would’ve hesitated a bit before giving up anyway.”
Zhu Lianzhen’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
To his surprise, Tan Qing added, “Isn’t the correct answer already right in front of you?”
Zhu Lianzhen looked at him, his earlier anger replaced by astonishment. “What are you talking about, I…”
How was he supposed to argue with that? For a moment, Zhu Lianzhen was at a loss. He didn’t know what exactly would count as a breakup between them. Going back to being just friends? Or cutting each other off completely?
Neither seemed like anything that could be called the “correct answer,” and yet, that was exactly what Tan Qing believed.
“I’m sorry, Xiao Zhu,” Tan Qing apologized again. This time, he lowered his head and avoided Zhu Lianzhen’s gaze. “Presumptuously trying to think from your perspective must’ve made you hate me. I don’t have an excuse.”
Zhu Lianzhen wasn’t great at reading people, but in that moment, he clearly saw that Tan Qing wasn’t wavering at all.
“So your idea of considering my feelings was to keep everything from me and drag it out until I was the one who said we should break up?” Zhu Lianzhen’s expression was conflicted. “Do you not even believe I’d want to solve this with you?”
Tan Qing slowly closed his eyes and let out a short sigh before opening them again to look at Zhu Lianzhen. “What problem could we even solve with our abilities?”
Zhu Lianzhen felt his heart tighten.
“I know you don’t like hearing people say sorry,” Tan Qing said. “But aside from ‘I’m sorry,’ there’s really nothing else I can say. I can say it as many times as you want, Xiao Zhu.”
Zhu Lianzhen suddenly remembered why he used to dislike Tan Qing when they first met. He’d thought Tan Qing was fake, being overly kind to everyone without reason, surely just trying to win people over. But slowly, he realized Tan Qing treated him differently, and he naturally assumed it meant Tan Qing had opened up to him.
Turns out, he’d been too naive—too full of himself.
“Why did you call me that night? You asked me why I liked you. I thought it was a bit strange at the time.” Zhu Lianzhen frowned, staring at Tan Qing as his sharp instincts kicked in. “Were you… already thinking about breaking up that night?”
Tan Qing looked at him, and his lips twitched slightly. Zhu Lianzhen couldn’t tell whether that faint smile was self-deprecating or mocking, but he felt a chill rise from deep within him. He paused, then slowly opened his mouth. “Oh. I see.”
He hadn’t figured out how to make sense of everything, but his pride forced the words out ahead of reason. “Then let’s break up.”
As soon as he said it, even Zhu Lianzhen was surprised by how calm his voice sounded.
Tan Qing said nothing. He simply picked up that cup of chilled pomegranate juice again and handed it to Zhu Lianzhen.
Zhu Lianzhen glanced at it and remembered mentioning a few days ago that he’d been craving some. Tan Qing had gone and bought a whole case to stock the fridge. Tan Qing was always like that, remembering every passing comment he made with clarity, tending to every little detail without fail.
He raised his hand and, neither too gently nor too harshly, shook off the other’s wrist. The glass slipped from Tan Qing’s palm. The sound of it shattering was painfully sharp, and the crimson juice splattered across the floor along with the ice.
Zhu Lianzhen suddenly felt his throat go dry. “Have you not changed at all since the day we met?”
Good at admitting mistakes, even better at repeating them knowingly.
He let out a cold laugh. “I finally see you for what you really are.”
Once he understood the outcome, he never dragged things out during the process. Zhu Lianzhen left cleanly and decisively, just like he did with any other decision.
After an unknown amount of time, the ice on the floor had completely melted. In the vast house, only Tan Qing remained.
He crouched down and began cleaning the floor, wiping up the spilled juice and picking up the broken glass. It was a simple task, but he took an inordinately long time to finish it.
This was a scene he had imagined countless times, yet when it truly happened, the flood of emotions still hit with full force. Wasn’t this the ending he always knew was coming? After the collapse of a fragile dream, wasn’t it only natural to fall back into the bottomless pit of reality?
What was there left to regret?
The glass had been thin, and its shards were slender and sharp. Even after being cut, he felt no pain. The moment he curled his fingers slightly, blood welled up quickly. He lowered his eyes to watch it—his fingertips were still dusted with tiny shards, glinting under the light.
He released his hand and placed the pieces back onto the floor.
When he stood up, it felt like he had become a bystander to himself, just like long ago, when he silently observed the people coming and going around him. His thoughts slowly began to detach, turning sluggish.
And yet the turmoil in his chest reminded him that he was supposed to accept this sadness.
There was no time to overthink it. His body had already made the decision for him. Years of emotional self-defense had forced him back into that rational appearance. The version of “Tan Qing” the world expected to see.
He no longer needed to understand, no longer needed to sense, no longer needed to search. He was still that glass of colorless, tasteless water. A smooth, even block of wood. He didn’t feel pain, and he didn’t know joy.
There was no need to chase meaning anymore, or any kind of answer.
In the end, the only feeling he had left was one regret he’d always anticipated: as expected, he had failed to become the “more real” Tan Qing that person once believed he could be.
–
After a period of turmoil, Zuige Entertainment finally announced that Acemon would temporarily halt group activities. The comeback date was undecided, and the company would prioritize arranging individual development opportunities for the members in the meantime.
[Was that really necessary? The group wasn’t even centered around the lead vocalist. They could’ve just changed the songs and kept releasing stuff.]
[Is it that being short one person affects the contract? Could it be that the other members don’t want to sign… and are using this chance to go solo?]
[One member quitting isn’t a big deal. I think it’s because the rest of the group’s scandals are about to explode and the company’s trying to contain it. Hahaha]
[Yay! Disband on the spot! Popping the champagne now!]
[I looked up the names of the members, and it turns out every fanbase is happily reposting giveaway events… Just how bad were their relationships?]
[Holy crap, did no one notice? Zhu Lianzhen and Tan Qing don’t follow each other anymore!]
[? Who unfollowed who first? Wasn’t their CP really popular? They just announced solo activities and now they’re rushing to cut ties?]
[The two of them have always been faking it. It was obvious. If they were actually close, they wouldn’t be making such exaggerated eye contact all the time. Straight guys trying to do fanservice just never get the nuance.]
[What if they really were dating? Don’t couples usually block and delete each other after breaking up? Fu Rong and Koty’s relationship is way worse, and even they haven’t unfollowed each other.]
[Fun fact: Fu Rong never followed Koty in the first place]
[Damn. My bad for assuming.]
[They were always a mess anyway. It’s for the best that they disbanded like this. I’m tired of seeing news about their bad relationships.]
[Why this! I just binge-watched all of QingZhen’s sweet moments last night! Ahhhh why did it have to end today!!]
[Pain. Absolute pain]
…
The rain poured without end.
Zhu Lianzhen lay in bed, listening to the sound of it outside. Naisi jumped up, as if knowing exactly where to go, and nestled right into his arms.
His fingers gently kneaded the cat’s head, and Naisi purred contentedly. Luckily, at a time like this, having a cat with him made things feel a little less awful.
How many days had it been? More than a week, probably. Tan Qing still hadn’t sent him a single message.
Zhu Lianzhen had thought that as long as Tan Qing was willing to give him a proper explanation, even if it was just some complaints, he would patiently try to understand. But no message ever came. It was as if Tan Qing… had truly accepted the breakup.
So easily. So decisively.
How was that fair!
Zhu Lianzhen felt panicked inside, unable to accept it: if they were really going to break up, shouldn’t it at least come after a huge argument? He had never seen the other person angry, never seen him sad, didn’t even know what Tan Qing might say in a moment of emotional outburst… They hadn’t even had a proper fight yet, so how could this count as a breakup?
He didn’t want to admit that what he was feeling now was “heartbreak.” That word sounded a bit pitiful, and he hated that. He wasn’t going to be all sad and miserable. So what if they broke up? It wasn’t the end of the world… What was Tan Qing doing right now?
Zhu Lianzhen hugged the cat in his arms, closed his eyes, and buried half his face into the pillow. After calming down, regret inevitably crept in. He shouldn’t have let his pride take over and rushed to say they should break up. Now he had backed himself into a corner.
The remaining five members of Acemon returned to their usual work routines about a month later.
Of course, it was each to their own.
“Got the plane tickets booked?” Zhu Lianzhen asked.
Sitting next to him, Ah-Xu pulled out her phone and said, “Hold on, let me check.”
“Weren’t you the one who booked them?”
“Pei-jie’s assistant handled it. Since you and Tan Qing are both flying to Shenzhen tomorrow, they booked the same flight.” Ah-Xu checked the time. “It’s at ten in the morning.”
“Change it,” Zhu Lianzhen said.
“Why? Can’t wake up in time?”
Zhu Lianzhen looked out the car window, the emotion in his eyes completely hidden behind heavy sunglasses. He said, “I don’t want to be on the same flight as a teammate.”
“Oh, okay.” Ah-Xu didn’t ask further. She rescheduled the flight as requested. “You probably won’t run into each other at the airport lounge either. We’ll go a bit later.”
Zhu Lianzhen: “Mm.”
After a moment, he asked again, “What’s Tan Qing going to Shenzhen for? Filming a show?”
He hoped they wouldn’t run into each other in the same building.
“I think it’s to meet with a director and producer for an audition. Want me to check?”
“No, no, no. I don’t want to know.” Zhu Lianzhen turned back toward the window again.
If he wanted to move on from the past, he had to ignore everything related to Tan Qing. He was no longer sulking, but every time he thought of Tan Qing, he couldn’t help but get distracted.
Was Tan Qing going to keep filming from now on? If so, it wouldn’t be easy for someone like him, still in the performing arts on stage, to cross paths again.
That’s good. Less awkwardness that way.
After arriving at the sports center, Zhu Lianzhen walked around the venue himself, personally checking how the stage looked from various angles. Next month, he would celebrate his 20th birthday here, and it would also be the first solo concert of his career.
“Seats for 20,000 people. So spacious.” Ah-Xu, walking alongside, couldn’t help but marvel. “Once all the lightsticks light up, the crowd’s going to look amazing.”
“Mm.” Zhu Lianzhen slowly walked down the steps.
Ah-Xu noticed that his mood wasn’t particularly high. Thinking maybe he was still affected by Acemon’s temporary suspension of activities, she said, “I just spoke with the person in charge here. Since this venue was built, you’re the youngest artist ever to apply for a concert.”
Zhu Lianzhen had heard similar praise countless times growing up, so it no longer stirred much excitement in him. He nodded and told her, “The laptop’s fully charged, right? Go backstage and show them the plan.”
This birthday event had actually come together somewhat hastily. It was originally supposed to be the first stop of Acemon’s tour after the release of “Shake.” But too many events had been canceled one after another recently, so in order to keep fans engaged, the company decided to keep this in-person appearance on the schedule. Zhu Lianzhen’s singing and dancing skills were strong enough to carry a concert on his own, so they were letting him test the waters.
“Your ideas are great, but the timeline is a bit tight. I’m afraid there won’t be enough time to implement them,” the chief planner said truthfully after reviewing Zhu Lianzhen’s proposal. “The budget’s sufficient, but unfortunately, some of these details would take at least half a year to test.”
Zhu Lianzhen considered it and said, “Then let’s simplify everything. Just focus on the lighting rehearsals. Also, I want to add a pure dance segment.”
“No problem. How long would it be?”
“I don’t know yet,” Zhu Lianzhen replied. “I haven’t picked the music.”
“Then you’d better hurry. We’ll block out fifteen minutes for it for now.”
Before he realized it, the meeting with all the project coordinators had gone on until the evening. It wasn’t until Ah-Xu reminded him that he noticed he had kept everyone past working hours.
“Sorry, I wasn’t watching the time. I thought it wasn’t even seven yet.” Zhu Lianzhen gave an embarrassed smile. “I’ll cover the meal and transportation expenses. Get home safe, everyone.”
Ah-Xu said, “Boss, you should get some rest too. Didn’t you skip sleep last night? Don’t overthink things. Didn’t Pei-jie even get a fortune teller to do a reading for you?”
“I don’t believe in that stuff,” Zhu Lianzhen replied. “I didn’t sleep because I was gaming. Had nothing to do with work. Go get dinner, I’m heading back to the hotel to catch up on sleep.”
At 11:50 PM, Zhu Lianzhen lay in bed, quietly waiting for Valentine’s Day to arrive.
He’d spent last night tweaking the birthday message over and over, finally saving it in his Weibo drafts. He planned to check out what the other members posted first and then post his after them. That seemed like the safest approach.
As soon as the clock struck midnight, Zhu Lianzhen immediately saw a scheduled post from Acemon’s official account celebrating Tan Qing’s birthday.
Over the next few minutes, he kept refreshing his homepage. At this hour, the other members were probably still awake, but none of them had shared the post. It seemed that without the label of Acemon tying them together, no one even bothered to maintain the bare minimum act.
Maybe it was better not to post anything himself either. He had already unfollowed Tan Qing. If he sent birthday wishes right on the dot now, it would obviously look like a staff-arranged move and come off as insincere.
But he didn’t want to message Tan Qing privately either. Tan Qing hadn’t contacted him at all during this period and had even stopped liking his Moments posts. That clearly signaled a desire to cut ties. Zhu Lianzhen had no intention of making the first move.
Sleepiness overtook him, and his eyes could no longer stay open. He tossed his phone aside and fell into a deep sleep.
When he woke up the next day, the top trending topic was Tan Qing.
It was his first birthday since going solo, and fans had gone all out with extravagant displays. Support photos from all around the world were truly breathtaking.
Ah-Xu knocked on the door twice, coming to remind Zhu Lianzhen it was time to continue discussing the concert plans with the planning team.
On the way, Zhu Lianzhen saw several street vendors selling flowers. He suddenly thought: would anonymously sending Tan Qing a bouquet today count as a gift? Tan Qing was probably still in Shenzhen. It wouldn’t be hard for Ah-Xu to find out where he was staying.
But the thought only flickered through his mind, as it would be too easy to give himself away.
Breakups were such a hassle.
After a full day of work, Zhu Lianzhen finally opened Weibo that evening and saw his teammates’ posts. Tan Qing had posted a picture of a birthday cake at seven o’clock, and the others had left comments one after another, saying “Happy Birthday.”
“Half-hearted,” Zhu Lianzhen muttered.
And he didn’t even feel the urge to be that half-hearted.
Was it really necessary? He could have said “Happy Birthday” to Tan Qing openly, could have met up, given a gift, just like those Valentine’s Days before, when it was only him by Tan Qing’s side. But now, even one routine public message left him in turmoil.
So little time had passed, and their relationship had already turned into this.
So annoying. Zhu Lianzhen stared at the photo Tan Qing had posted today, with that flawless, textbook smile on his face, and a wave of irritation rose within him. There wasn’t even anyone there to spend the birthday with—what was the point of buying such a huge cake? Wasting food. Seriously annoying.
–
“Your concert program’s still not finalized?” Pei Qiao called and asked Zhu Lianzhen.
“The songs I’ll be singing are already chosen. Just missing one dance piece… Actually, I’ve already found the right track, but the rights are held overseas, and I haven’t been able to get in touch with that company yet,” Zhu Lianzhen replied.
“If time’s running out, just pick something usable from the company’s music library.”
That was the only option for now. The concert was put together in a rush, so it’s understandable that it couldn’t be perfect. Zhu Lianzhen logged into the company’s internal site, checked the licensing list, and filtered the most recently acquired songs.
He put on his headphones and listened to them one by one. Suddenly, the intro of a particular track made him sit up—wasn’t this the song he most wanted to dance to!
He checked the date the rights had been purchased, and it was just last week. The fact that the company had coincidentally acquired the exact song he had in mind felt almost too lucky.
Zhu Lianzhen quickly contacted Pei Qiao and confirmed that no other artist in the company had claimed the track. Relieved, he headed alone to the dance studio to begin choreographing his final performance segment.
Over the next month or so, Zhu Lianzhen’s schedule was completely packed with work. He was in the prime of his life, full of energy, and no matter how much he worked, he never seemed to tire. Thanks to that pace, he had no time left to dwell on anything related to Tan Qing.
But the night before his birthday, he still ended up unable to sleep.
He told himself it was nerves about tomorrow’s concert. But after midnight, there was still no message from Tan Qing.
He couldn’t deny that a certain unrealistic hope had shattered, leaving behind inevitable disappointment.
The birthday concert was a great success—at least that’s what the audience thought. Fans who’d been with Zhu Lianzhen since he was a teenager were especially emotional, tearing up at how much he’d grown.
Zhu Lianzhen took photos on stage and posted them on Weibo.
The comment section was filled with birthday wishes from fellow artists, and he liked and replied to each one. His teammates also left messages, except for Tan Qing.
The fans weren’t blind or clueless. The two of them had birthdays barely a month apart, yet they hadn’t interacted at all. Everyone knew what that meant. They believed Zhu Lianzhen and Tan Qing had truly gone their separate ways. The reasons varied depending on who you asked, but one thing was clear: the QingZhen CP had become a sensitive topic.
Every time Ah-Xu arranged travel plans for Zhu Lianzhen, she had to double-check to make sure there wouldn’t be any overlapping flights or hotel bookings with Tan Qing to avoid an encounter.
But unfortunately, they were public figures—high-profile ones at that. Even though they had cut off contact in private, as long as Zhu Lianzhen went online, he was still inevitably bombarded with news about Tan Qing.
What left him completely at a loss was that even the CP fans didn’t lose momentum despite the cold war between them. Many tried to analyze the reason behind their falling out, but instead, they kept digging up even more proof that the two had been in love.
Outsiders couldn’t tell what had been genuine and what had been staged, but Zhu Lianzhen knew all of it clearly. Feeling upset and frustrated, he uninstalled most of his social media apps and handed all his accounts over to the staff to manage.
For a long time afterward, he worked hard to get used to one thing—that Tan Qing no longer had anything to do with him. He was determined not to pay attention to what Tan Qing was up to, and not to recall anything from their past.
Ronggang had four distinct seasons. After dozing off and waking up from the cold in the car several times, Zhu Lianzhen finally, albeit a bit late, noticed that winter was on its way.
He worked nonstop until the end of the year, then flew back home to Shanghai. He had barely reunited with his parents when they asked when he would be leaving again. Zhu Lianzhen replied, “I don’t have any work scheduled over Spring Festival this year. I turned everything down. I wanted to spend more time with you.”
His parents were aware of the breakup with Tan Qing. Zhu Lianzhen hadn’t hidden it from them, though he hadn’t gone into detail over the phone. Now that the family finally had time to sit down and talk, he had no choice but to explain the whole situation clearly.
Tang Wen asked him if he felt heartbroken.
“I didn’t feel like I was heartbroken. We ended things on good terms,” Zhu Lianzhen said. “Besides, that was all at the beginning of the year. How would I even remember all the details?”
Zhu Kaiping interjected, with a slightly mocking tone, “You used to really like him, didn’t you? And now you’re acting like he’s a stranger. If you had just obediently dated a girl, maybe it wouldn’t have turned out like this. Now it’s all awkward and messy, and you’re the one feeling bad.”
“How am I feeling bad?” Zhu Lianzhen shot back. “If you hadn’t brought it up, I’d have already forgotten that person even existed.”
“Let’s eat.” Tang Wen helplessly cut off the conversation between father and son. They both had stubborn personalities, often ending up in arguments over the smallest things, and even casual chats could spiral into bickering.
“Is your, um, group disbanded now?” Zhu Kaiping asked.
“No,” Zhu Lianzhen answered instinctively. However, upon closer examination, the group was essentially nonexistent. The company hadn’t mentioned any future plans for Acemon, and there was no interaction among the members. Fans even joked that each of them was thriving on their own.
“We’ll probably make a comeback soon,” Zhu Lianzhen added, “I guess.”
Zhu Kaiping: “Then what are you going to do when you see him again?”
Zhu Lianzhen pressed his lips into a thin line, and it took a moment before they eased slightly. He replied coldly, “Then I’ll see him. Just like with any regular colleague.”
It’s not like they’d get back together, right?
![[Rebirth Rise] The Male God is Explosively Handsome](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/1751665213563.jpg "[Rebirth Rise] The Male God is Explosively Handsome")
