FIG CHAPTER 35.1

Half an hour later, Zhu Lianzhen stood outside Tan Qing’s apartment door.

He had received a temporary passcode from Tan Qing on his phone. Zhu Lianzhen entered the digits one by one, and a female electronic voice said, “Welcome home,” as sunlight flooded the entire house.

Tan Qing, wearing pajamas, was in the kitchen washing rice. Hearing the sound, he glanced toward the door.

“Go take your medicine. I’ll make the congee.” Zhu Lianzhen walked over and took the task upon himself.

Tan Qing accepted the medicine box from him, gave a word of thanks, and slowly walked away.

Zhu Lianzhen poured out the rice-washing water and quietly turned his face to glance at Tan Qing’s back. Every little movement, from pouring water to taking his medicine, looked slow and drained of energy.

After taking the medicine, Tan Qing also looked over in his direction. As soon as their eyes met, Zhu Lianzhen hurriedly lowered his head, avoiding the unintentional eye contact, and awkwardly urged, “Go lie down already.”

The white rice slowly cooked down to a thick consistency in the pot, filling the whole kitchen with the aroma of rice. Zhu Lianzhen was hungry too; he hadn’t even had a glass of water before leaving the house. Now he could only rummage through Tan Qing’s fridge and make himself an egg toast to fill up.

Once he finished eating, the congee was ready. Zhu Lianzhen scooped a bowl and brought it into the bedroom.

Tan Qing was leaning against the headboard, staring out the window in a daze. There was a bit of fatigue on his face, but when he saw Zhu Lianzhen, his eyes lit up, and he gave a faint smile. “Thank you.”

“Eat, and then go to sleep,” Zhu Lianzhen instructed. “There’s about two bowls left in the pot. I turned on the keep-warm mode.”

As for the property certificate… Zhu Lianzhen hadn’t taken it out. He planned to just leave it by the entryway later.

Zhu Lianzhen: “If there’s nothing else—”

“Are you leaving already?” Tan Qing asked, holding the steaming bowl, his tone unhurried.

Zhu Lianzhen felt a little embarrassed saying it outright. He hadn’t planned to leave. He only meant to say, “If there’s nothing else, you sleep, and I’ll play some games.” But the way Tan Qing asked made him hesitate, as if maybe he really should go.

“Do you need anything else?” Zhu Lianzhen asked. “Are your ears still ringing?”

Tan Qing shook his head and said slowly, “Sorry to trouble you for coming over today. I feel a lot better than when I first woke up.”

“It’s nothing.” Zhu Lianzhen left the bedroom absentmindedly, went to get his bag, and placed the contents in the most visible spot by the entryway.

Just as he was about to open the door and leave, a sharp crash came from the bedroom—the sound of a bowl shattering.

Zhu Lianzhen rushed back to check what had happened.

In the bedroom, shards of the porcelain bowl were scattered all over the floor. Tan Qing was about to get out of bed to clean up, but Zhu Lianzhen stepped forward to stop him. “I’ll do it. You lie down.”

Tan Qing looked apologetic. “I tried to grab the folding table, but I didn’t set it down properly.”

After cleaning up the mess, Zhu Lianzhen served a new bowl of congee. As he handed it over, he lowered his head to look at Tan Qing and noticed that the outermost part of the whites of his eyes was slightly red.

After a moment of hesitation, Zhu Lianzhen finally said, “I’ll stay and keep an eye on you. I’m free today anyway.”

“No need.” Tan Qing looked up at him. “It’s just a fever. I’ll be fine after some rest.”

“What if it mutates while you’re burning up?” Zhu Lianzhen had already made up his mind. There was no need to discuss it with Tan Qing any further. He unplugged the phone charger at the head of Tan Qing’s bed and took it out to use.

When he reached the doorway, he suddenly turned back and asked, “Do you have a mercury thermometer at home? The infrared one probably isn’t accurate enough.”

If the actual temperature was higher, they would definitely need to get to the hospital sooner rather than later.

Tan Qing thought seriously for a moment and said, “Maybe in the drawer in the storage room.”

Following his instructions, Zhu Lianzhen went to look.

Everything in Tan Qing’s home was neatly organized. Every drawer was orderly—just one glance was enough to tell what was inside. Zhu Lianzhen easily found the thermometer. Just as he was about to close the drawer, a small section inside caught his attention.

It was a few keys, and placing them in a drawer meant for medicine felt a bit out of place, especially considering how meticulous Tan Qing was.

Zhu Lianzhen hadn’t thought much of it at first, but something about the keys sparked a flicker of recognition. He picked them up to examine them and found that although the handles were different, the grooves were exactly the same.

They belonged to the same lock.

Standing there, Zhu Lianzhen tried to recall carefully. A moment later, it came back to him—these were the keys to the dorm they had lived in before their debut.

One of the key handles had a distinct cross-shaped scratch on it. If he remembered correctly, that one had been his.

The dorm the company gave them back then didn’t have a smart lock. Zhu Lianzhen often forgot his key when going out. Two members shared one room in a two-bedroom apartment; he and Tan Qing were roommates. Every time he forgot his key, even if it was the middle of the night, Tan Qing would have to get up to let him in.

So as not to disturb Tan Qing’s sleep, Zhu Lianzhen had made it a habit to always bring his key when leaving. Occasionally, though, he’d still slip up, like when he accidentally lost his key and had to get a new one made.

He stared at the lost key in the drawer, frowning a little. Picking them up, he went back to the bedroom to ask Tan Qing, “Are these the keys to our old dorm? This one’s mine, right? Why is it with you?”

His tone was firm, expecting at least a denial from Tan Qing. But Tan Qing calmly scooped a spoonful of congee and ignored him.

Maybe the way Zhu Lianzhen was just standing there made his reaction seem a little too abrupt, because after taking a sip of congee, Tan Qing gave him a puzzled smile. “What’s wrong?”

Zhu Lianzhen was thrown off by his nonchalant response. “If you found the key, why didn’t you return it to me… Wait. Did you hide it on purpose?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.” Tan Qing set the bowl aside and held out his hand. “Thermometer.”

Zhu Lianzhen gave the thermometer a firm shake, then handed it to him. Tan Qing silently held the end between his lips.

Zhu Lianzhen rubbed his thumb over the uneven ridges of the keys. The room was so quiet that the tiny motion was the only sound. He looked at Tan Qing, obediently holding the thermometer in his mouth, with none of his on-camera perfection, just the pale profile of someone unwell.

As if sensing Zhu Lianzhen’s gaze, Tan Qing looked at him calmly. This time, Zhu Lianzhen didn’t look away. They simply held eye contact, with no emotion exchanged between them.

“Every time I came back late at night without my key and saw you getting up to let me in, I felt really bad,” Zhu Lianzhen said softly. “You didn’t do that on purpose, right? Like, making sure I didn’t have my key just so I’d feel guilty and owe you one?”

“Why would I?”

“Isn’t that how we got close in the first place?”

Tan Qing’s eyes looked a little foggy. He thought briefly about what Zhu Lianzhen had said, then asked, “You mean, to get close to you, I would deliberately cause you trouble just to help you out afterward?”

Because of the thermometer in his mouth, each word came out slowly, pieced together one by one. It made him sound even sicker.

Before Zhu Lianzhen could reply, Tan Qing added, “So that’s how you see me.”

Zhu Lianzhen quickly said, “I was just guessing.”

Tan Qing’s lips moved slightly, and he frowned. “It tastes bitter.”

Zhu Lianzhen froze.

His hand moved faster than his brain. In a flash, he pulled the mercury thermometer from Tan Qing’s mouth.

Tan Qing smiled, his expression gentle.

Realizing Tan Qing was just messing with him, Zhu Lianzhen examined the mercury tip closely, checking that it was undamaged. Then, with his left hand, he reached out, grabbed Tan Qing’s cheeks, and squeezed his mouth open, grumbling, “What’s bitter? Huh? Let me see.”

Tan Qing obediently tilted his head back. When Zhu Lianzhen noticed the redness in his eyes, his hand softened, and he let go, stepping back to check the thermometer.

“38.1 degrees.” Zhu Lianzhen observed the thermometer carefully. “Weren’t you filming just yesterday? Were you already sick then? Does the crew know?”

Tan Qing lay down and pulled the blanket over himself, sighing. “There was a scene in the water yesterday. Maybe I stayed in too long and caught a cold. I didn’t pay attention to the temperature after I got home.”

So it was because of work, just as he thought. Zhu Lianzhen figured Tan Qing had been overworked these past two years, and the illness had only surfaced now after building up for too long.

Zhu Lianzhen tapped his phone helplessly and said, “Get some sleep. Message me when you wake up, take your temperature again, and if the fever hasn’t gone down, I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Zhu Lianzhen picked up the dishes and left the room.

They weren’t exactly at the stage where he could just make himself at home. Staying at Tan Qing’s place still made Zhu Lianzhen feel a bit self-conscious. He played on his phone until nightfall, then took a shower and lay down in the guest room.

Tan Qing woke up after only four hours. Zhu Lianzhen received a call from him.

“Awake already? Did you take your temperature?”

“Mm, I woke up from the fever. It’s already starting to go down.”

“That’s good. Remember to drink more water. I left two cups by the bed.” Zhu Lianzhen honestly didn’t know much about taking care of someone sick, but the fact that Tan Qing needed looking after was rare in itself, so of course he had to give a few more reminders.

It was tiring to hold the phone while lying in bed, so Zhu Lianzhen put it on speaker and placed it on his chest, talking to Tan Qing like that. “Now that filming’s done, are you going to take a break for a while?”

Tan Qing said, “There were supposed to be other jobs lined up, but this year I wanted to prioritize group activities, so I asked Pei-jie to cancel everything a few months ago.”

The group work wasn’t that intense, and with responsibilities spread evenly among the five of them, it wasn’t enough to wear anyone down. Zhu Lianzhen felt relieved. Thinking of something that had happened recently at the company, he told Tan Qing, “You know, a lot of the trainees look up to you as their goal.”

Tan Qing laughed. “Me? I’m hardly a good role model.”

“Don’t pretend to be modest. You know full well everyone sees you as the most perfect one.”

“And what about you?” Tan Qing asked. “In your eyes, what am I like?”

The sudden question threw Zhu Lianzhen off for a second. He stared blankly at the ceiling, not answering.

In front of the camera, they were supposed to be flawless. The public couldn’t see the cracks, but they could see right through each other.

But had he ever really seen through Tan Qing?

Zhu Lianzhen hesitated as the realization dawned on him.

When facing him, was Tan Qing showing his true self, or was it just another carefully crafted persona? What drove him forward, what made him afraid, what did he like or dislike, what were his principles and habits… how much did he really know?

As he laid these questions bare and picked them apart, Zhu Lianzhen suddenly realized: it was hard to describe what kind of person Tan Qing truly was.

Tan Qing always treated him differently, making it hard to tell if the kindness was a way to win him over, or simply part of who Tan Qing really was.

“In my eyes? You’re a total poser.” Zhu Lianzhen decided to brush off the topic with a joking tone.

“I remember once we went out for crayfish and ordered it mildly spicy. Only you and Fu Rong didn’t eat any. He thought it was too much hassle, but you? I thought you couldn’t handle even slightly spicy food, and yet you finished off a whole bowl of spicy crayfish noodles. So it turned out you just thought peeling crawfish looked uncivilized? You really know how to put on a show!”

After hearing that, Tan Qing chuckled softly over the phone.

“And you never drink much at those dinner parties. Is it because you’re afraid you’ll say the wrong thing if you get drunk? But look at Ting-ge, acting wild when he drinks, but he still drinks when he should. Unlike you, always so worried about keeping up your idol image.”

Zhu Lianzhen listed off all the evidence of Tan Qing’s pretentiousness and felt much more relaxed. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes, I am pretentious,” Tan Qing admitted with a soft laugh, confirming the label. “Since you know me so well, why don’t you guess how many times I faked it with you today?”

Zhu Lianzhen had been smiling just a moment ago, but now the smile on his lips suddenly froze.

He could tell Tan Qing wasn’t joking the way he was, even though his tone sounded relaxed.

The comfortable mood they had just built vanished instantly. Zhu Lianzhen was once again left speechless, caught off guard.

That was when Tan Qing said, “Heartbeat.”

“What?” Zhu Lianzhen touched the phone on his chest.

No way. This wasn’t a stethoscope, so how could it possibly pick up a heartbeat through his body? He asked Tan Qing, “Don’t tell me there’s a camera in your guest room too?”

“Do you really think you can’t hear it?” Tan Qing replied.

Zhu Lianzhen: “Probably not?”

The other side went quiet for a few seconds, then said, “How about now?”

Zhu Lianzhen immediately understood what he meant. Tan Qing must’ve done the same as he had, placing the phone on his own chest.

He turned off speaker mode, pressed the phone to his ear, and held his breath to listen. It really did seem like there was a faint rhythmic thump, like the beat of a low drum.

Zhu Lianzhen blankly realized that doing this… felt like being in his arms.

Wait, no—Zhu Lianzhen quickly recognized that it was actually the beating of his own heart!

The microphone on the phone couldn’t possibly pick up someone else’s heartbeat, but Tan Qing’s performance just now had been so natural, it had completely led his thoughts astray.

“Are you messing with me?” Zhu Lianzhen pretended to be angry.

Tan Qing’s smile deepened, the end of his sentence carrying a note of cheerfulness. “Good night, Xiao Zhu.”

The call ended.