Sheng Min exited Weibo and sent Yang Xu a message. The other side quickly called back.
Through the receiver, Li Xuan couldn’t make out the words clearly, but it definitely wasn’t anything pleasant.
Sheng Min remained patient, occasionally smiling at Li Xuan.
“Don’t let Zhang Zhihua handle this… President Zhang? It’s fine, let them talk. No need to worry.” After a minute or two, Sheng Min interrupted Yang Xu’s rant, “You have today and tomorrow off… No, I’m not firing you. Didn’t I tell you last week to visit your mom? … I’m fine…”
Yang Xu’s emotions seemed to flare again, his voice rising in rapid protest.
“Yang Xu,” Sheng Min glanced at Li Xuan and softly said into the phone, “I know what I’m doing.”
After a few more soothing words, Sheng Min finally ended the call. Yang Xu’s frustration remained clear, his parting words a loud: “You’re hopeless Ge!”
This line was so loud that Sheng Min knew Li Xuan had heard it. They exchanged glances, and Li Xuan gave a self-deprecating smile. “Yang Xu thinks I’m a liar.”
Sheng Min instinctively wanted to deny it but instead asked, “Are you?”
“What do you think?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sheng Min shook his head, smiled, and leaned against the wall, his lowered hair hiding his expression. “I have plenty of good qualities. Just keep lying to me for a while longer… But if one day, you don’t want to lie to me anymore…”
“I’m not,” Li Xuan interrupted, hearing the growing seriousness in Sheng Min’s tone. “And I haven’t lied to you.”
Sheng Min didn’t press further. Instead, he reached out to smooth the furrow in Li Xuan’s brow. “I know.”
Li Xuan held his hand, wanting to say something but finding words insufficient. Sheng Min didn’t mind. Placing his other hand on Li Xuan’s shoulder, he leaned in to kiss Li Xuan’s eyes and changed the subject. Okay, I misspoke. Don’t you still have a meeting to attend?”
Li Xuan pressed his lips together without answering. Sheng Min shook his arm lightly and said, “Alright, don’t overthink it.”
“Do you have work later? Or are you heading straight home?”
“No work today,” Sheng Min replied. “But after recording the program tomorrow, I’ll have to leave in the evening.”
“Tomorrow? Doesn’t one episode take three days to record?”
“The film production team is rushing to finish shooting the mountain scenes before autumn. Rain will increase after the season starts, so the schedule doesn’t allow it. They’ve already coordinated with the ‘Pick Your Moon’ program team.”
Li Xuan responded with a hum and didn’t say much else. He continued to hold Sheng Min’s fingers, as if treasuring them like a cherished possession. Sheng Min glanced at their intertwined hands and thought for a moment before asking, “Should I go with you to the company?”
“Would that be convenient?” Li Xuan immediately looked at him, trying to suppress the curve of a smile, but his expression couldn’t hide his delight.
“It’s no problem.” Sheng Min shook his hand. “What about you? Will it be convenient?”
“It’s fine with me,” Li Xuan said, then quickly corrected himself after a pause. “It’s very convenient.”
He feigned composure and cleared his throat, as if worried Sheng Min might change his mind. “Let’s go, then.”
So they walked hand in hand through the emergency exit, like little children lining up to leave kindergarten. Near the exit, Li Xuan suddenly stopped. “I’ll call a car first.”
“What?” Sheng Min blinked in surprise.
“The traffic was terrible when I came, so I had to leave my car halfway,” Li Xuan explained, noticing Sheng Min’s slightly startled expression. He suddenly felt that his decision had been perfect.
He deserved a reward for this. Li Xuan decided.
He turned around and naturally placed his hands on Sheng Min’s shoulders. Moving closer, he could feel Sheng Min’s warm breath brushing against his cheek. “May I?”
“Why didn’t you ask earlier?”
Sheng Min laughed and wrapped his arms around Li Xuan’s neck, sharing with him the fourth sweet moment of the day in the dimly lit corner behind the door.
By the time they arrived at the company, the meeting had already started. The empty lobby was silent, except for faint voices coming from the meeting room at the end of the hallway.
“Go to your meeting. I’ll wait here.”
This was Sheng Min’s second visit to Li Xuan’s office. Aside from a larger pile of documents, it wasn’t much different from before. The lone pothos plant by the window had grown lush, likely thanks to the cleaning staff.
“Sit on the sofa for now,” Li Xuan said as he opened his computer at the desk. Sheng Min assumed he was dealing with work, but a quick glance revealed that the screen displayed gossip forums about their departure from the airport earlier.
Li Xuan’s fingers flew over the keyboard, lines of code compiling rapidly in the corner of the screen.
“It’s really fine,” Sheng Min said, watching his unusually focused and serious profile. “I skimmed the posts and comments earlier; no one is suspecting anything.”
Li Xuan’s fingers didn’t stop, but he glanced up with a raised brow. “Suspecting what?”
Sheng Min pursed his lips, unwilling to answer. Li Xuan smiled reassuringly. “Alright, it’s okay. I’ll be done soon. Sit tight.”
He quickly dealt with posts that hinted at the truth and planted some misinformation to shift attention elsewhere. Comments speculating he was a staff member were intentionally left intact, redirecting fan focus toward disorganized airport reception efforts. He also set up monitoring tools on major forums and apps to prevent future issues.
After half an hour, he finally finished. Sheng Min noticed his slightly reddened fingertips. “Does it hurt?”
Li Xuan froze for a moment, following Sheng Min’s gaze to his own hands. He smiled. “How could this hurt?”
“It’s really fine,” Sheng Min insisted, grabbing Li Xuan’s retreating hand and blowing on it gently. “I can handle it. I was ready to face all the consequences when I decided to run off with you.”
“But I have to take responsibility for my actions—and for you.”
Li Xuan’s words came out naturally, without hesitation. Sheng Min was momentarily stunned, unsure how to respond.
“I’m heading to the meeting now,” Li Xuan said, not waiting for an answer. He gently cupped Sheng Min’s face before leaving. “The computer password is the same as for the laptop. Feel free to also browse the books on the shelf.”
“I can’t make sense of your academic papers.”
“There are scripts for plays on the left.”
Sheng Min glanced over and indeed found a full set of scripts by Yin Qianping, along with several original novels of TV dramas he had acted in.
This reminded him of how Li Xuan had privately read ‘Wei Yang Willows’. It felt like it had happened just yesterday, though much time had passed. He couldn’t help but smile softly, casually picking up a book. “Are these all idle purchases too?”
“They were all bought because I thought of you.”
Li Xuan’s tone was open and honest. Despite scratching his head a little uncomfortably after speaking, he still looked at Sheng Min, waiting for his reaction.
Sheng Min, caught off guard, held the book and stayed silent.
“Really,” Li Xuan repeated.
“I heard you the first time.” Sheng Min glanced at him helplessly. “That’s not what you used to say.”
“But it’s what I’ve always thought.”
Finally, Sheng Min chuckled and urged him, “Go on already.”
Li Xuan checked his watch. “Alright, If you’re bored, read a book. If you’re tired, you can nap in the lounge. It won’t take long.”
“Okay, go. I’m not a child.”
Li Xuan picked up his laptop and walked to the door, but he couldn’t resist quickly returning to hug Sheng Min. “Wait for me.”
Sheng Min rested his chin on Li Xuan’s shoulder, gently stroking his back. “I will.”
They’re precious