Zhu Lianzhen defined the impulse as yielding to an irresistible urge.
As if bewitched by the ambiguous atmosphere, his body temperature had risen, and he instinctively wanted to draw closer to the other. He knew he wasn’t always rational, but that didn’t mean he never considered consequences—except this time.
When the impulse passed, he had no idea how to deal with the aftermath.
The illusion that “the whole world held only the two of them” had already faded. Now, they had to return to the “normal” world again.
Zhu Lianzhen followed behind Tan Qing as they walked back. Both remained silent, neither bringing up what had just happened. A noticeable distance of several steps separated them. Partway through, Zhu Lianzhen came to a stop, and Tan Qing turned around to look at him, halting as well.
“Let’s wait a bit. My face is too hot.” As he spoke, Zhu Lianzhen realized his voice had dropped several notches lower than usual.
Tan Qing’s hands weren’t particularly cold, but he still reached out and touched Zhu Lianzhen’s cheek with the back of his hand, just enough to cool him down a little.
“Xiao Zhu—”
“Don’t talk,” Zhu Lianzhen interrupted. “Don’t make my head even more confused…”
Tan Qing pressed his lips together and gently pulled him toward the light, brushing sand off both of them.
By the time they returned to the tent, their teammates were boiling water and asked if they wanted something to eat. Zhu Lianzhen shook his head but still said, “Sure.”
Ji Yunting noticed the contradiction between his words and actions, as well as the odd look on his face, and couldn’t help asking, “What happened?”
The question drew everyone’s attention. They all turned to look at him.
Tan Qing smiled and said, “He tripped, and I saw it.”
Zhu Lianzhen crouched down to tie his shoelaces, keeping his head low to hide his expression. “Today’s the last day, right?”
Ji Yunting: “Mm. Director Qiu and the others are coming tomorrow morning.”
To Zhu Lianzhen, the night felt especially long.
The others, taking advantage of the fact that filming would wrap up tomorrow, had no intention of sleeping early—especially Koty, who had somehow found a set of “Who’s the Spy” game cards that afternoon. Zhu Lianzhen had planned to mentally shut down for the night, but ended up being dragged into playing for nearly two hours.
The camera had been rolling the entire time. If any unusual expressions appeared on his face, they might end up in the final cut, endlessly analyzed by fans. Fortunately, being forced to think during the game was still easier than staying alert during casual conversation.
He barely made it through and rushed off to wash up and go to bed.
After lights out, they heard raindrops falling on the tent roof.
Koty, putting on a theatrical voice, said, “Is this island crying because it doesn’t want us to leave?”
Fu Rong: “Then why don’t you stay a few more days by yourself.”
Koty: “Zhu Lianzhen, I’ve got a question for you.”
Zhu Lianzhen frowned. “What?”
Koty asked, “When it starts raining, do you know to run home?”[mfn]This phrase is often used as a meme to describe someone with basic common sense. For example, when talking about an ideal partner, someone might say they want a person who knows to run home when it rains, meaning at the very least, they possess the most basic level of common sense and self-awareness.[/mfn]
The others burst into laughter, and Zhu Lianzhen immediately regretted responding. “You’re seriously messed up.”
At that moment, Tan Qing replied in a serious tone, “He does.”
Koty: “Wow!”
The moment he said that, the tent filled with enthusiastic applause directed at Zhu Lianzhen.
Zhu Lianzhen slapped Tan Qing’s arm. “That reminds me—back in middle school, once it rained and Ting-ge forgot his umbrella. I went all the way to his school to pick him up, and he said, ‘No need, I like getting wet in the rain,’ then walked off by himself!”
Ji Yunting: “Shut up.”
Koty: “Hahahahahahahahaha!”
Outside, the rain grew heavier, quickly drowning out their voices. Gradually, everyone fell quiet and began to settle down for the night.
Zhu Lianzhen turned over. Though he moved slowly, he did so two or three times. The rustling caught Tan Qing’s attention. He opened his eyes and whispered, “Can’t sleep?”
Zhu Lianzhen nodded. The sound of his hair brushing against the sleeping bag was almost imperceptible, but Tan Qing still noticed. He reached out, grasped Zhu Lianzhen’s wrist, and pulled him closer.
“Don’t think about anything tonight,” Tan Qing whispered into his ear. “Get some sleep. We’ll go home tomorrow and rest properly.”
Easier said than done.
Zhu Lianzhen thought: Isn’t the reason I can’t sleep because of you? But in the darkness, even the quietest grumble sounded like flirting.
“Regretting it?” Tan Qing asked.
As if saying “regret” could erase everything that happened. Avoidance didn’t work that way. Zhu Lianzhen shook his head and muttered, “So are you satisfied now?”
“Satisfied with what?”
Having been around Tan Qing for so long, Zhu Lianzhen had picked up his roundabout way of talking, and now returned it in kind. “Whatever you think I regret, that’s what I think you’re satisfied with.”
Tan Qing seemed to chuckle softly. Warm breath brushed against Zhu Lianzhen’s ear.
“Xiao Zhu, my head was a mess at the time too. I didn’t expect you to be so passionate—it made me lose control… I should’ve been more rational. Sorry for making you lose sleep.”
Zhu Lianzhen narrowed his eyes in the dark.
What a twist of the truth. How can someone be so good at putting on a show?
He clenched his teeth, and the words came out like they were forced through his throat. “You’re pushing your luck again, aren’t you?”
This time, Tan Qing truly laughed softly. Apparently done with the act, he leaned in close and gave the corner of Zhu Lianzhen’s lips a fleeting kiss, like a dragonfly skimming the water.
Zhu Lianzhen didn’t dodge, but his only thought was not to make a sound that might alert the others. Sensing his tension, Tan Qing didn’t press further.
He lightly patted Zhu Lianzhen’s back twice and said, “How many times has it been now? You forgot to reject me again.”
How many times had it been? Even Zhu Lianzhen couldn’t count. Every time, he told himself it was Tan Qing who had seduced him, that it was the atmosphere that swayed him; and if he crossed the line, it must have been beyond his control—something he couldn’t help.
But in the end, every excuse was just a way to cover up the truth at its core: that he couldn’t break free from his own position, nor could he stop his heart from fluttering for Tan Qing.
Reason and emotion twisted together, making it hard for him to face Tan Qing, or even himself. “I’m not that dense,” he said after a pause.
Tan Qing looked momentarily taken aback, then chuckled, as if he understood the unspoken meaning. “But you’ve never been quick on the uptake, either.”
After a moment of thought, he added, “You’ve always been like that.”
Zhu Lianzhen didn’t respond. Silence settled between them again, broken only by the patter of rain outside.
Then, after a beat, he lifted his head and gently pressed his lips to Tan Qing’s.
It was just a brief touch for a few seconds, hardly enough to be called a kiss. Then he pulled away.
“I’m going to sleep,” Zhu Lianzhen said, pushing Tan Qing’s arm aside and retreating quickly to his own space.
That rare moment of honesty was left behind on the solitary island. When the sun rose the next morning, they would once again have to remember who they were supposed to be.
–
The next day, the production crew arrived by boat to pick them up.
They went through another round of transfers between various vehicles. As more people began to appear through the windows, there was a distinct sense of returning to the real world.
This time, they each went back to their own homes for a few days of rest before returning to the dormitory. Zhu Lianzhen felt a bit airsick, and the moment he got home, he headed straight to the bathroom.
His phone, placed on a small table beside the bathtub, was vibrating nonstop. It was Ah-Xu, messaging to ask if he’d made it home.
“I’m taking a bath.” Zhu Lianzhen rested his arms on the edge of the tub and replied: “Has Pei-jie sent any new work?”
[Ah-Xu]: Not yet. Just rest up. Have you eaten? I’ll order you something.
“Too tired. No appetite.”
[Ah-Xu]: Don’t fall asleep in the tub.
Zhu Lianzhen quickly replied with a “Got it,” then switched his phone to silent and set it aside.
The water was at a steady temperature, and steam filled the entire bathroom. It felt incredibly relaxing. As expected, he hadn’t slept well the night before. His dreams had been chaotic, and he’d been jolted awake that morning by the production team’s loudspeaker. Now, he felt completely drained.
He lowered his arms into the water, turned on the Bluetooth speaker, and closed his eyes for a short nap.
He didn’t know how many songs had played when the bathroom door was suddenly pounded on. Ah-Xu’s voice rang out from the other side, “Boss! Are you still alive, boss!”
Zhu Lianzhen jolted awake. “Huh?”
“Fuck, you scared the hell out of me! I’ve been messaging you for three hours and you never replied!” Ah-Xu’s voice was frantic. “I thought you actually drowned in there!”
“You’re the one scaring me with all that yelling, okay?” Zhu Lianzhen frowned and picked up his phone to check the time. Turned out he had accidentally fallen asleep. “I’m fine—I forgot I had the phone on silent.”
Ah-Xu decided then and there that she needed to install a landline in his apartment.
Zhu Lianzhen quickly got up, rinsed off, and came out dressed. This time, he knew it was his fault. He obediently let Ah-Xu lecture him, too embarrassed to argue. In the end, he muttered, “Alright, alright, I’ll treat you to dinner.”
Ah-Xu took the opportunity to extort him. “And compensation for emotional damage.”
“My mental state isn’t great either,” Zhu Lianzhen replied. “I woke up three or four times, and I couldn’t even get a full eight hours.”
“What, was the environment on the island that bad?”
As they spoke, Ah-Xu’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and suddenly remembered, “Ah, I forgot about Tan Qing. He’s already on his way.”
Zhu Lianzhen looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“I was worried something really happened to you, so I called him while I was on the way over. If anything went wrong, I’d call 120, and he’d contact Pei-jie and your friends and family.” As she explained, she picked up the call and told Tan Qing it was a false alarm.
Zhu Lianzhen was speechless at her dramatic thinking. “Tell him not to come, I—”
“He’s already outside.” Ah-Xu hung up and went to open the door.
“…”
Five minutes later, Zhu Lianzhen had ordered takeout, and the three of them were sitting in the living room drinking black tea.
Tan Qing didn’t seem to have any intention of staying long, and Ah-Xu had no desire to be a third wheel. She said, “I’m too lazy to wait, and I’m not even hungry. I’m heading out.”
Zhu Lianzhen quickly freed a hand to stop her. “I ordered too much. Eat with us.” He discreetly pinched her arm to signal her.
With someone else present, he could stay calm while facing Tan Qing. Ah-Xu understood his intention but replied with a pained look: I’m just in the way.
The takeout arrived. It was from a Hunan restaurant that was very authentic, though they also had some non-spicy dishes that were surprisingly good. Zhu Lianzhen had ordered a bit of everything to suit everyone’s tastes.
“So what did you guys actually do on that island?” Ah-Xu asked casually.
Zhu Lianzhen paused mid-bite and replied coolly, “You’ll find out when the show airs.”
Ah-Xu was practically fuming inside. While Tan Qing wasn’t looking, she elbowed Zhu Lianzhen and tried to communicate with her eyes: I’m just trying to lighten the mood here. I can tell something’s off between you two!
Zhu Lianzhen pursed his lips and thought: You really know how to bring up the worst possible topic.
“Digging up oysters and sand crabs was pretty fun,” Tan Qing chimed in nonchalantly, giving Ah-Xu a brief rundown of the show’s filming.
She tried to look interested, occasionally turning to Zhu Lianzhen with a jab, “So basically, you didn’t do any work at all?”
“What do you mean I didn’t?” Zhu Lianzhen shot back. “I…”
The tent had been pitched by Tan Qing and Ji Yunting. The seafood had been found by Koty during low tide. And when it came to digging up sand crabs with Fu Rong, Fu Rong did the digging while Zhu Lianzhen chased after the crabs.
“I played an irreplaceable role,” Zhu Lianzhen said with conviction.
Tan Qing added, “He learned how to use an electronic shower.”
“Wow!” Ah-Xu put down her chopsticks and clapped.
The meal ended quickly. In truth, no one was really focused on the food. As soon as she was full, Ah-Xu wasted no time making up an excuse and slipped out.
Zhu Lianzhen really missed Naisi right now, but the cat was still at the dorm, being looked after by the staff these past few days.
Once Ah-Xu left, the room instantly fell quiet.
Tan Qing packed the leftovers into storage containers and put them in the fridge. Zhu Lianzhen wiped the table twice, then ran out of things to do. He was waiting for Tan Qing to say he was leaving, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted him to. Maybe he should ask him to stay a bit longer.
Tan Qing closed the fridge and glanced back at him. Zhu Lianzhen tried to make conversation. “Do you want some fruit?”
“You don’t have any in your fridge,” Tan Qing said. “Do you want me to play along with your awkwardness?”
Zhu Lianzhen noticed the softness in his gaze, touched with a hint of amusement.
“No need.” He sat down and poured himself a glass of water.
At that moment, both of their phones chimed with a WeChat notification. For Zhu Lianzhen, it felt like divine intervention.
Ji Yunting was yelling in the Acemon group chat: “Guys! Guys! Good news, good news! I’m going on a dating show! A dating show!”
Zhu Lianzhen instinctively looked up and met Tan Qing’s eyes.
He typed in the group: “HTV’s show?”
“Yeah.” Ji Yunting responded right after recognizing the sender. “Pei-jie said the show originally wanted you, but she told them you and Tan Qing are doing fanservice together, and the CP can’t be broken up. Thank you both! May you two be permanently bound as a couple!”
Zhu Lianzhen had a bad feeling and said to Tan Qing, “I think Ting-ge’s obviously going on this show just to get a free date. He’s definitely going to stir up some chaos.”
“It’s just a show. Have a little faith in him,” Tan Qing replied.
Zhu Lianzhen voiced his concerns, “This isn’t just any show. Dating shows are all about hyping up CPs, right? Even if they’re following a script, two people faking it long enough can start confusing what’s real and what’s not. Especially someone like Ting-ge. Do you think he’s the type to just play along? He always catches feelings for real.”
Tan Qing listened quietly, then gave a faint smile. “Sounds like you know exactly what that feels like.”
That one line snapped Zhu Lianzhen to attention.
Tan Qing went on, “Are you worried he’ll end up like us? Turning a fake act into something real?”
His tone was casual, but the words were blunt, like a perfectly timed joke that hit too close to home. It left Zhu Lianzhen short of breath. He looked at Tan Qing, unsure how to respond.
After a few seconds of stunned silence, he forced himself to speak lightly. “If he really ends up like us, then Fu Rong would be the most emotionally stable person in the group. That’d be a disaster.”
While he was still lost in thought, Tan Qing had walked up to him, leaned forward with both hands on the table, and looked down at him with a faint smile. “So, you hate being like this.”
“Like what?” Zhu Lianzhen looked up.
“Turning fake into real,” Tan Qing said. “To you, that feels like lying. And you’ve always hated that the most.”
“That was a long time ago.” Zhu Lianzhen frowned slightly without meaning to. “I don’t want to talk about it now.”
Tan Qing’s expression remained calm. His gaze lingered on Zhu Lianzhen’s face, as if he were deep in thought about something. Zhu Lianzhen hoped he wouldn’t throw out another impossible question, but thankfully, Tan Qing simply looked at him for a moment, then turned to find his car keys without saying anything else.
“You’re leaving?” Zhu Lianzhen asked.
Tan Qing nodded. Just before stepping out the door, he looked back. “You need to get some proper sleep. Your eyes are a little red.”
“I know,” Zhu Lianzhen replied.
As soon as the door shut, it felt as though a heavy burden had been lifted.
Thankfully, Tan Qing had been just as tactful and hadn’t brought up what had happened the night before. Neither of them tried to stir up the lingering emotions between them. It felt like the paper-thin barrier they shared had only torn a little—easy to patch, so everything could appear perfectly untouched again.
Even if that peace was an illusion, they had both chosen to hold on to it.
Zhu Lianzhen slept for a solid thirteen hours, and when he woke, it was still dark outside.
Still groggy, the first thing he did was reach for his phone to check for messages. He skimmed through them but didn’t see anything worth bothering with, so he tossed the phone aside and closed his eyes again.
Another half hour passed. He started to feel more awake and realized he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, so he got out of bed.
Today was a proper day off. After breakfast, Zhu Lianzhen still had the leisure to sit by the window, sipping coffee while watching the sunrise. He thought for a moment. Since he couldn’t stay cooped up at home all day, he might as well ask Ji Yunting to hang out.
The two of them went to a trendy trampoline park. The place was owned by a friend of Zhu Lianzhen’s and was about to have its trial opening. His friend had told him to try it out while it was still empty.
At first, Ji Yunting scoffed at the idea of this kind of entertainment venue, thinking it was childish. But less than ten minutes after walking in, he was already so excited that he broke the trampoline height record set by the owner.
Zhu Lianzhen, dressed in the venue’s special gear, gave a big jump and managed to stick himself onto the wall. He grinned. “Spider-Man!”
Once the novelty wore off, Zhu Lianzhen figured it was time to talk business. He asked Ji Yunting, “Do you already know who the other guests on the show are? Don’t get too happy too soon. What if they’re exactly the type you don’t like?”
Ji Yunting gave him a strange look. “So what? It’s not like I’m going on a real blind date. It’s just a show.”
“You make it sound like I’m worrying too much on your behalf,” Zhu Lianzhen said. “But if a girl so much as flirts with you, you can’t even resist. Can you promise that once the cameras stop rolling, you won’t start overthinking things?”
Ji Yunting replied, “What’s so hard about that? Do you really think so little of me? Even if you don’t trust me, you should at least trust Pei-jie, right? If she thinks I’m suitable for this, she must’ve considered the risks.”
That was true. Pei-jie’s judgment was usually solid. Zhu Lianzhen figured there was no point in arguing further. He bought two bottles of water and sat down to drink with him.
Ji Yunting twisted open his bottle cap and said, “Besides, you and Tan Qing have been doing that whole fake couple thing for years, and I haven’t seen your friendship go off course.”
Zhu Lianzhen had mixed feelings. He didn’t know whether to be grateful that Ji Yunting was so oblivious, or to feel sorry that he was truly clueless.
“We’re both guys. Even if we wanted to cross a line, it’d be hard,” Zhu Lianzhen said.
“True.” Ji Yunting paused, thinking. “But do you think Tan Qing might’ve secretly dated someone before? The way he looks at you doesn’t feel like acting at all. It seems way too natural.”
Zhu Lianzhen nearly choked on his water. He wiped his mouth and frowned. “What kind of look?”
“Like…” Ji Yunting searched for the right words, “like the way you look at a partner.”
Zhu Lianzhen started to panic a little. “There’s nothing like that going on. Don’t talk nonsense.”
Ji Yunting: “I was just complimenting his acting skills. Compared to him, you look like you’re faking it.”
Zhu Lianzhen pursed his lips. “Now you’re giving performance reviews?”
Later that evening, after dinner, Zhu Lianzhen drove Ji Yunting home. While waiting at a red light halfway there, he noticed a car following them. He deliberately circled around several blocks, but the SUV behind them kept tailing.
He couldn’t tell if it was paparazzi or a stalker fan. He had nothing to hide, so being photographed didn’t bother him much, but having his private life spied on would make anyone uncomfortable.
Since he didn’t have any plans that night, Zhu Lianzhen decided to kill some time and kept driving around aimlessly.
At the next red light, he spotted a car ahead that looked familiar.
When the light turned green, Zhu Lianzhen continued driving. At the next intersection, the two cars in front of him made U-turns at the same time, and he got a clear look at the license plate on the Aston Martin leading the way.
What a coincidence.
He honked the horn to get the driver’s attention.
Half a minute later, a voice message from Tan Qing popped up on his phone: “Watch out for that Volkswagen behind you.”
“I know. It’s been on my tail forever. Can’t shake it,” Zhu Lianzhen replied.
Tan Qing: “It looks familiar. Not sure which outlet they’re from. Come out through the underground garage in my complex.”
Zhu Lianzhen followed Tan Qing’s car toward his residential compound. Thanks to the security gate, the paparazzi’s car was quickly stopped outside, cutting off the pursuit entirely.
There were several exits from the underground garage to the main road. Tan Qing pointed him toward the one closest to his route home. Still in the car, Zhu Lianzhen sent him a voice message to say thanks, then casually asked, “What were you out doing?”
“Saw a movie,” Tan Qing replied.
“With whom?”
“Booked the whole theater for myself.”
Zhu Lianzhen mentally responded with an “Oh,” then immediately thought: Why am I asking him this? Feels like I’m checking up on him.
He quickly drove out of the garage.
Meanwhile, Tan Qing parked and opened his trunk.
Inside were dozens of surveillance cameras he’d dismantled from another residence. He’d spent over two hours removing them.
He stood at the back of the car for a while, silently staring off into space. Then he stuffed all the cameras into a bag and tossed them into a nearby trash bin.
