FIG CHAPTER 4

#Zhu Lianzhen, the Man Who Goes Over Ten Rounds a Night#

There was no need for entertainment media coverage—any fan with a celebrity-tracking app knew this was a sleepless night full of emotions for Zhu Lianzhen.

His assistant proactively posted on Weibo to explain: “Looks like there was a software bug. I only followed once on his behalf, but somehow, it sent out so many notifications. 🤦 Hahaha, sorry for disturbing everyone!”

Zhu Lianzhen didn’t dare check Weibo. He knew the phrase “QingZhen: True Affection” would be trending again before long.

Even Pei Qiao reminded him, “Don’t go overboard with the fanservice. Being too enthusiastic can backfire.”

Zhu Lianzhen had no way to defend himself. Sure enough, he and Tan Qing were simply incompatible. It was Tan Qing’s birthday, yet somehow, Zhu Lianzhen ended up having the worst day.

The next day, it snowed heavily in Ronggang.

Zhu Lianzhen’s thesis progress was still stuck at the first 500 words. His thoughts weren’t flowing well. His phone buzzed twice, pulling his attention away.

It was a message from the leader, Ji Yunting: “Come over to my place for hotpot. I’m so done with everything lately.”

Zhu Lianzhen agreed without hesitation. He had been hoping someone would need him for something—this way, he could abandon his thesis with a clear conscience.

The snow on the road was thick, causing severe traffic jams. By the time he finally arrived at the leader’s place and the door opened, the first person he saw was Tan Qing. It seemed Tan Qing had known he would come, as he handed him a towel to wipe the snow off his clothes.

Without a word, Zhu Lianzhen stepped inside. Ji Yunting was preparing the hotpot dipping sauce, his handsome face visibly distracted. Seeing Zhu Lianzhen, he simply nodded in acknowledgment.

Ji Yunting didn’t have anything urgent going on. As he had said, he’d just been feeling irritable lately and needed an outlet. So, he invited Zhu Lianzhen and Tan Qing over to talk about work and relationship issues.

As the hotpot began to bubble, the three of them took their seats. Ji Yunting started venting about his ongoing drama with his situationship. When he got to the part where he said, “I know she’s a player, but when she gets drunk, she calls me ‘hubby’ on WeChat,” Zhu Lianzhen deeply regretted coming.

He glanced at Tan Qing and saw that he was still listening intently to this nonsense.

Then, as his gaze drifted again, Zhu Lianzhen noticed a bowl of clear water beside Tan Qing’s dish. Every time Tan Qing picked something from the pot, he would dip it in the water to wash off the red, oily residue.

“So, at the end of the day, you just don’t want the group to make a comeback, right?” Zhu Lianzhen, having lost his patience, finally summed up Ji Yunting’s rambling.

Ji Yunting: “That’s not exactly it. I just can’t make up my mind, so I wanted you guys to help me figure it out.”

Zhu Lianzhen wanted to say, “What’s the point of being in a relationship?” but before he could, Ji Yunting spoke again. “I know you’re about to say that dating hinders one’s career, but haven’t we already been through enough ups and downs? Aren’t you tired of always pushing forward?”

He took a sip of beer to moisten his throat and continued, “I can’t sacrifice the love right in front of me for some distant ideal.”

As soon as Ji Yunting finished speaking, a stiff silence settled over the dining table. Zhu Lianzhen wanted to respond but hesitated, a fleeting sense of panic passing through his mind.

Tan Qing had remained quiet, as if the conversation had nothing to do with him. Yet, at that moment, he finally cast his gaze toward Zhu Lianzhen’s profile.

Ji Yunting, completely unaware that his words had struck a nerve with the other two, downed the rest of his beer in one go. Then he turned to Zhu Lianzhen. “Have you ever liked someone? If not, then you probably wouldn’t understand. Forget it, I’ll just talk to Tan Qing instead.”

Zhu Lianzhen snapped back to attention, protesting indignantly, “What do you mean? He’s more understanding than I am?”

Ji Yunting gave him a look as if he were a child.

Tan Qing spoke leisurely. “I don’t know what happened between you and that girl, so I won’t make any judgments about your relationship. But I just feel that what you said earlier wasn’t very convincing.”

Ji Yunting was slightly muddled from the beer. “Why not?”

“Sacrificing a relationship for an uncertain future is indeed a tough decision,” Tan Qing said calmly. “But isn’t it just as much of a loss to give up the chance to achieve your dreams for the sake of an ambiguous relationship?”

As he spoke, he turned to Zhu Lianzhen with a faint smile. “What do you think, Xiao Zhu?”

Caught off guard by being suddenly addressed, Zhu Lianzhen looked up, momentarily at a loss, and hurriedly echoed, “Ah, yes, exactly.”

He had a feeling Tan Qing’s words weren’t just meant for Ji Yunting.

These days, most people put their careers before love—let alone in their profession, where a relationship being exposed was like stepping on a landmine.

Ji Yunting rubbed the corner of his eye and sighed. “Tan Qing… I thought that after two years of focusing on acting, you wouldn’t want to regroup anymore, just like me. But what you said makes sense. Sigh.”

After eating and drinking their fill, the three of them sat around chatting for a while. When it was finally time to head home, Zhu Lianzhen prepared to call a taxi.

Unexpectedly, Ji Yunting casually asked Tan Qing, “Did you drive here?”

Tan Qing nodded, then, as if reacting a beat too late, added, “Oh, I forgot—I accidentally had a drink.”

Zhu Lianzhen sensed something was off about that remark. Sure enough, Ji Yunting immediately acted generous at someone else’s expense. “Zhu Lianzhen didn’t drink, right? You two are heading in the same direction, aren’t you?”

“You didn’t drink on purpose just to make me your driver, did you?” Zhu Lianzhen’s tone was joking, but suspicion flickered in his eyes.

Tan Qing remained considerate and polite. “It’s late. You should go home and rest. I can just take a cab.”

With Ji Yunting present, Zhu Lianzhen had no way to deliberately avoid Tan Qing. He bit the bullet and said, “Cut the nonsense. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Thank you.”

The northern winter night was so cold that it made their faces stiff. As soon as Zhu Lianzhen got into the car, he eagerly turned on the heater. To ease the atmosphere, he wanted to play some music, but after pressing a few buttons with no response, he figured it was broken.

He glanced around the car’s interior. It was simple and clean, just like before, with no decorations.

“How many years have you been driving this car? Aren’t you sick of it?” Zhu Lianzhen suddenly remembered that he had the same Aston Martin Rapide, which had long been collecting dust in his garage.

Tan Qing replied, “I’m used to it. I’ve grown attached to it.”

Zhu Lianzhen had never liked this car. After all, it was here that a stalker fan had secretly taken photos of them. He teased, “Don’t tell me you’re just stingy and can’t bear to replace it? Isn’t your acting paycheck pretty high? Out with the old, in with the new.”

Tan Qing’s lips curved slightly. “I’m not the type to abandon something just because something new comes along. Especially things I use often. After a while, I develop a bit of attachment. Don’t you have anything you’ve used for years and can’t bear to replace?”

Zhu Lianzhen thought for a moment and suddenly remembered the earphones Tan Qing had found and posted as a lost-and-found item.

“Nope. I’m the type who always goes for something new. Once I get tired of something, I replace it.”

By now, the car was warm enough to start driving. Zhu Lianzhen opened his phone’s navigation app, hesitated for a moment while entering the address, then handed it to Tan Qing to type in himself.

As the car drove on, Zhu Lianzhen felt the atmosphere was a bit too stifling. He connected his phone to the car’s speakers and played a song he’d been into lately.

Every now and then, Tan Qing’s coughing drew his attention. The last time it happened, Zhu Lianzhen couldn’t hold back anymore and said, “If you can’t handle spicy food, why didn’t you just ask Ting-ge[mfn]ge/gege = big brother[/mfn] to make a clear broth hotpot?”

Tan Qing grabbed a bottle of water from the backseat and took a sip. “You actually remember something so trivial?”

“Do you even realize how many delicious meals I missed out on just to accommodate your taste?” Zhu Lianzhen blurted out.

The moment he finished speaking, he regretted it. He had meant to show that he was capable of being considerate, but he overlooked how mentioning the past carried an unspoken weight between them—something that shouldn’t have been brought up so casually.

Tan Qing responded naturally, “Good thing we don’t have to do that anymore. You can eat whatever you want now.”

“…Mm.”

For a long while, neither of them spoke again.

When the car stopped at their destination, the song was still playing. As Tan Qing unfastened his seatbelt, he asked, “This melody is pretty nice. What’s the song called?”

Before Zhu Lianzhen could answer, Tan Qing added, “Forget it if you mind.”

Zhu Lianzhen was puzzled. “What’s there to mind?”

Tan Qing: “I was afraid you’d think I was copying you.”

Zhu Lianzhen was stunned for a few seconds, his ears heating up as he realized Tan Qing was joking.

Back when Tan Qing had just joined the group as a new member, their relationship had been terrible—specifically, Zhu Lianzhen had one-sidedly disliked him. During breaks from training, the members often discussed music or movies. Zhu Lianzhen had casually shared some of his favorites, but he hadn’t meant them as recommendations.

Yet, Tan Qing took note of everything he mentioned and later told him, “I watched the movies you like, and I listened to all the songs too. I didn’t expect our tastes to match so well. I wish I had met you sooner.”

If Zhu Lianzhen had been more perceptive at the time, he would have realized Tan Qing was simply trying to be friendly. Unfortunately, he had already cemented his negative impression of Tan Qing, and his first instinct was: This guy’s acting way too chummy.

So, he had made his disapproval loud and clear: “Copycat!”

As their relationship improved over time, Tan Qing made a habit of teasing him whenever he asked for his playlist. “You don’t mind me copying you, right?”—deliberately making Zhu Lianzhen blush with embarrassment.

“I sent it to you,” Zhu Lianzhen muttered.

Just as he was about to get out of the car, he suddenly remembered something he had been curious about.

“Ting-ge was right. You’ve already transitioned into acting, so why do you still seem so willing to come back as an idol?” Zhu Lianzhen turned to ask, half-jokingly, “Not getting good box office numbers?”

The moment he asked, Tan Qing lifted his gaze and met his eyes directly.

In the dim light, they looked at each other. Tan Qing’s voice was soft as he said, “I just prefer working with you guys.”

Zhu Lianzhen couldn’t tell if he was being polite or sincere. “Just for that reason?”

Switching to acting meant a higher status in the industry and better income—life was much easier compared to being an idol.

At that moment, a passing car’s headlights swept through the vehicle, briefly illuminating Tan Qing’s face. Zhu Lianzhen clearly saw that Tan Qing was still looking straight at him.

When darkness returned, Tan Qing asked unhurriedly, “Then what do you wish the reason was?”

“I was just asking.” Zhu Lianzhen turned his face away, grabbed his phone, and pushed open the car door.

“You can drive my car home. I’ll pick it up another day,” Tan Qing said.

Zhu Lianzhen refused outright. “No, it’s a hassle.”

“It’s not a hassle for you.”

“I don’t like borrowing other people’s things.”

“Still avoiding me?”

Zhu Lianzhen was about to close the car door, but suddenly stopped upon hearing Tan Qing’s question.

Tan Qing sat calmly in the passenger seat, watching the figure outside the car, and continued, “If we work in the same city, you make sure to take a different flight. If we’re at the same event, you leave right after taking photos. Every time I open your Moments, all I see is a blank space.”

His voice grew softer, and by the end, it carried a distinct sense of disappointment. “Xiao Zhu, do you really hate me that much?”