PTBC chapter 54

When Xu Cong went to discuss this matter with Bai Yu, Bai Yu thought he was hallucinating from sleep deprivation.

He nearly spat out his tea, staring at Xu Cong in disbelief.

But he didn’t even have time to mourn his expensive pu-erh tea, which cost tens of thousands per kilogram. He quickly wiped his mouth and asked in a panic, “Why? What’s going on? You’re doing fine, why take a leave of absence? Is it work stress? But our schedule isn’t that packed, is it? Or did the haters piss you off too much? Ah—I’m planning to hire two more assistants next year just to handle public relations for you guys… Or is something wrong at home?”

The last question was asked with extra caution.

If Xu Cong weren’t in such a terrible mood, he might have laughed.

To be fair, Bai Yu was a great manager. Their group was immensely popular, and Bai Yu’s career had soared because of it, but his care for them wasn’t purely out of self-interest—it was genuine.

If possible, Xu Cong didn’t want to make things difficult for him.

“It’s none of those things,” Xu Cong said calmly, dropping a bomb in the office with an air of indifference. “It’s because I confessed to Xia Yan.”

Boom.

Bai Yu had been hit with his second shock of the day, even harder than the first. He was so stunned that he didn’t say a word for ten whole minutes, just staring at Xu Cong, eyes practically falling out of their sockets.

At the eleventh minute, he let out a miserable wail: “I KNEW a 100% compatibility rate was going to cause trouble! But none of you listened to me! And now look—it’s a disaster! I told you two not to keep marking each other!”

This time, Xu Cong actually chuckled a little.

He looked at his manager, who was now clutching his head in despair, with a mix of amusement and helplessness.

Bai Yu had already shattered more than just his tea—his entire soul seemed to have cracked. He even collapsed to his knees on the carpet, repenting like he had committed some grave sin.

Xu Cong idly twisted the ring on his finger, staring out the window absentmindedly. He rarely wavered once he made a decision, and no amount of Bai Yu’s panicked ranting would change that.

It wasn’t until Bai Yu calmed down a little—sniffling as he climbed back onto his chair, reaching for his ginseng supplements—that Xu Cong finally spoke again.

“This has nothing to do with the 100% compatibility rate. And it has nothing to do with you, either. This is my own issue, because…”

He paused for a moment, then said quietly,

“I’ve liked Xia Yan since before we even debuted.”

At that, Bai Yu’s last surviving tea cup lid met its demise, shattering into pieces on the floor.

….

Xu Cong spent over two hours in Bai Yu’s office.

After the initial chaos, Bai Yu managed to regain some of his professionalism, analyzing the situation logically and trying to persuade Xu Cong not to act impulsively.

But it was useless.

Xu Cong had always been known as a rich second-generation kid in the industry. When he signed with the company, his family had been strongly opposed, but ultimately, out of indulgence, they sent lawyers to negotiate a contract that granted him extensive personal freedom in exchange for certain resources.

From the very beginning, Xu Cong had far more autonomy than most artists.

In other words, if Xu Cong really wanted to do something, not even Bai Yu—let alone the company—could stop him.

“Bai Yu, this isn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision, nor is it some reckless action because Xia Yan rejected me. In fact, I’ve thought about this for a long time. Even before confessing to Xia Yan, I had already considered this outcome,” Xu Cong spoke calmly. Usually cold and aloof, he now sat by the sunlit window, looking uncharacteristically lonely. He turned to Bai Yu and said, “But people always harbor a little hope. Even I had a bit of wishful thinking—what if Xia Yan actually accepted me?”

Unfortunately, he failed.

Bai Yu was so dumbfounded that he couldn’t speak. He wanted to say that expecting Xia Yan to accept him was as ridiculous as expecting Mars to crash into Earth tomorrow. Maybe if the entire world was ending, Xia Yan would grant him that last dying wish.

But looking at Xu Cong’s familiar face, someone he had spent so much time with, he couldn’t bring himself to say such a cruel thing.

He could also see that Xu Cong had truly made up his mind.

This wasn’t some April Fool’s prank, nor was it a passing whim.

Xu Cong had come to discuss—no, to inform him of this decision.

Bai Yu clenched his heart pills in one hand, feeling like he had just grown a few white hairs.

Exhausted, he waved a hand at Xu Cong. “Just go. The sight of you is giving me a headache. I don’t even know which one of us is worse off.”

With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Taking a leave of absence abroad isn’t a small matter. I still have to discuss it with the company. But regardless of the outcome, don’t expect me to explain it to the team for you—especially not to Xia Yan. You’ll have to tell him yourself.”

With that, he waved his hand even more forcefully, making it clear that he wanted Xu Cong to leave immediately.

Xu Cong chuckled but didn’t linger. He had indeed just come to inform Bai Yu.

He stood up, but as he reached the door, he turned back and said sincerely, “Bai Yu, thank you for taking care of me all these years.”

Hearing that, Bai Yu’s stomach started hurting even more. He collapsed onto his desk with a groan.

This was a disaster.

The way Xu Cong said that—it felt like he was planning to leave the group. He couldn’t be serious, right? If D.A disbanded under his watch, the company executives would probably take turns coming after his life…

….

Xia Yan only found out about Xu Cong’s leave of absence several days later.

Bai Yu just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Watching the company try everything to make Xu Cong stay, only for him to remain unwavering, Bai Yu eventually caved and secretly called Xia Yan.

“That’s the situation. He insists on going abroad for at least six months. His excuse is some bullshit about further studies. Further studies? What, is his top-tier music academy diploma fake?” Bai Yu was squatting in the company’s back garden, cigarette butts piling up around him. The bitter taste of smoke filled his lungs. “I can’t do anything about him. Whatever’s between you two, you handle it yourselves.”

He couldn’t help but grumble, “Seriously, you two… Of all things, you had to mess with feelings. Is Xu Cong blind? Everyone in our team is gentler than you, yet he—”

Before Bai Yu could finish complaining, Xia Yan hung up with a sharp click.

….

Xia Yan had just finished his solo event and was waiting for his assistant to buy him a pain relief patch. He had hurt his arm during the event, and his usual medication had just run out.

But when his assistant returned, he didn’t even have time to use it.

Instead, he urged the assistant to drive him back to the dorm as fast as possible.

It was early evening, and the other team members hadn’t returned yet.

Xia Yan stormed upstairs and pushed open Xu Cong’s door without so much as a warning.

Xu Cong was listening to music with his headphones on when the door slammed against the wall with a thunderous bang. It was impossible to ignore.

He turned around and met Xia Yan’s gaze. Even though Xia Yan had only run from the parking lot to the room, his face was flushed, and his breath came in quick, heavy gasps.

Xu Cong took off his headphones, which had been playing D.A’s upcoming album. He had been listening to it over and over, checking for any final adjustments.

But now, with his headphones off, the room fell into complete silence, except for Xia Yan’s ragged breathing, which stood out starkly in the stillness.

Xia Yan walked over step by step, chest rising and falling with anger.

He had been furious the entire way here, itching to grab Xu Cong and beat some sense into him.

He wanted to pin him to the ground and punch him until he snapped out of this ridiculous, idiotic decision. Ideally, he’d also make him sign a contract swearing to never leave D.A, never betray the group.

But now that he was standing right in front of Xu Cong, with his rationality burning away like dry leaves in a fire, every breath he took seemed to stoke the flames in his chest.

Yet when he met Xu Cong’s calm, dark eyes, his throat felt scorched, like it had been burned by embers. All he could manage was a hoarse, “Why… are you taking a leave of absence?”

Xu Cong set his headphones down on the table, avoiding Xia Yan’s gaze. In a quiet voice, he said, “You already know the answer.”

That one sentence shattered what little restraint Xia Yan had left.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

With a loud bang, he kicked Xu Cong’s chair, sending it skidding across the floor.

But the next second, he grabbed Xu Cong and yanked him back.

“Just because I rejected your confession, you want to leave the group?” Xia Yan’s voice shook with anger, his face tense with barely contained rage. “Didn’t you swear when we debuted that we’d always be together? Didn’t we agree that no one in D.A would ever quit? What about Ye Zhaoyang, Lin Qixu, and Xiao Ning? What will they think? Are you really going to let our personal issues tear the group apart?”

The more he spoke, the more agitated he became. His grip tightened, fingers digging into Xu Cong’s shirt collar, constricting his throat just slightly—enough to make him feel a faint sense of suffocation.

But Xu Cong didn’t resist.

He just looked straight at Xia Yan.

“Say something!” Xia Yan’s grip remained firm, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and pain. “Are you really going to run away like a coward? Do you think hiding overseas will change anything?”

Xu Cong’s Adam’s apple moved up and down.

He noticed that Xia Yan’s eyes were red. Even though Xia Yan was the one furious, questioning him aggressively, forcing him into a corner with overwhelming intensity—he somehow looked pitiful, like he was putting on a brave front.

Xu Cong lifted his hand and grasped Xia Yan’s wrist.

Unlike Xia Yan, Xu Cong wasn’t flustered or angry. From beginning to end, he remained calm.

He told Xia Yan, “Everything you just said—I’ve thought about it before. That’s why I held back for so many years, never confessing, never even daring to let you realize what I was thinking.”

“I once thought I could endure it for a lifetime, that I could stay by your side as a dutiful friend, a brother. I believed I could always stand next to you—even if you met an omega you liked, fell in love, and got married. I thought I could attend your wedding, be your best man, and watch you walk down the aisle. Because I love you.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but every word was crystal clear, echoing through the spacious bedroom.

His words stabbed like daggers.

Xia Yan unconsciously loosened his grip on Xu Cong’s collar. He stared at him in disbelief, his lips trembling. “Then why are you…”

“Because I can’t do it anymore,” Xu Cong looked at him, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, as if trying to smile, but failing. “I overestimated my endurance. It’s too hard.”

Xu Cong stood up.

It was broad daylight. The room was bathed in sunlight, not yet evening. Every expression on their faces was illuminated in stark clarity.

Xu Cong was clearly composed, yet just looking at him, Xia Yan was reminded of that night after ‘The Moon By The Silent River’ wrapped filming.

Back then, Xu Cong had also approached him with this unsettling sense of calm.

Xia Yan instinctively took a step back.

Xu Cong continued closing in until Xia Yan’s back pressed against the cold, hard wall.

“Do you know what it feels like to have a secret crush on you since I was eighteen?” Xu Cong’s gaze roamed over Xia Yan’s face, finally landing on his lips. His hand hovered near Xia Yan’s waist, an almost imperceptible touch, completely trapping him between himself and the wall. Forced into a corner, Xia Yan had no choice but to turn his head, refusing to meet his eyes.

But Xu Cong grabbed his chin, forcing him to look directly at him.

He spoke slowly, each word sharp and deliberate. “Every single time. Every time I heard you talk about your ideal type, about wanting a mature, cool omega. Every time I watched you on dating shows, going on dates with other people. Every time you said you wanted to start a family one day. Do you know what I was thinking?”

“I wanted to do exactly this—corner you, pin you down, and fuck you so hard you’d beg for mercy, crying that you’d never leave me. I wanted to claim you, cover you in my scent, kiss you, make you cry, do every filthy thing to you.”

“And after you differentiated into an omega, these thoughts only got stronger. Because you are my fated omega. We have a 100% compatibility rate. We are supposed to be the perfect match.”

Xu Cong let out a low, self-mocking laugh.

So what if it was 100%?

So what if Xia Yan became an omega while he was an alpha?

Xia Yan still didn’t love him.

Fate handed him the ultimate cheat code, but it was useless. He still couldn’t shake Xia Yan’s unwavering heart.

Xu Cong’s fingers brushed against the back of Xia Yan’s neck. The temporary mark he’d left there was already fading. It wasn’t a permanent mark, just a fleeting shadow—destined to disappear from Xia Yan’s body.

“So now—do you still want to keep me by your side?” he asked.

Then he released his pheromones.

They were standing so close, and Xia Yan had been receiving his temporary marks frequently.

As the pheromone concentration increased, Xia Yan’s breathing grew ragged, his cheeks flushed with an unnatural redness.

He stared at Xu Cong, completely speechless.

It felt like that night again—when Xu Cong had looked at him just like this.

But it was different. At least that night, Xu Cong hadn’t been planning to leave him.

Xu Cong gently touched Xia Yan’s face. “See? Because our compatibility is 100%, if I wanted, I could induce your heat right now. I could take you during your heat, leave a lifelong mark on you, and you’d never escape me.”

“If that happened, would you forgive me—or would you want to kill me?”

Xu Cong whispered the words directly into Xia Yan’s ear, as if engraving them into his memory.

Then, he slowly straightened up.

He suppressed his pheromones, stopping the overwhelming surge in the room. But even so, the lingering scent was thick enough to make one feel dizzy.

His face was completely emotionless now. Without the usual gentle facade he showed Xia Yan, he looked ruthlessly cold—like a predator watching its prey.

Xia Yan couldn’t say anything.

Because if that day ever came, it would mean complete destruction between them.

And just the thought of that shattered something deep in Xia Yan’s chest.

“You wouldn’t…” he whispered weakly.

“I would.” Xu Cong shattered his last illusion without hesitation.

He grabbed Xia Yan’s wrist tightly, his grip so strong that it left deep red marks. His gaze burned with a terrifying contradiction—he wanted to consume this person entirely, yet at the same time, he wanted to protect him from ever shedding a single tear.

This madness tangled inside him, pushing him to the brink of insanity.

He said, “I would. You have no idea what kind of dirty thoughts run through the mind of someone who’s secretly loved you for five years. You have no idea how painful it is to fight against these instincts every single day while staying by your side.”

Xia Yan couldn’t respond.

His wrist trembled slightly in Xu Cong’s grasp.

When he came looking for Xu Cong, he was clearly filled with rage. As the captain, he had a thousand reasons to condemn Xu Cong for acting like a deserter.

But now, as he looked at Xu Cong, he couldn’t say a single word.

Xu Cong said that every day by his side had been painful.

That sentence lodged itself in Xia Yan’s throat, choking back all the words he had prepared.

He gazed at Xu Cong, overwhelmed with sadness—more than he had been on the night of the wrap party.

Xu Cong wanted to cover Xia Yan’s eyes again, because no matter how many times they met each other’s gaze, he could never escape the devastating power of those eyes. He saw Xia Yan’s eyes turning red, tinged with pink at the corners, glistening with a thin layer of moisture—truly as beautiful as peach blossoms.

Xu Cong lifted a hand and brushed Xia Yan’s cheek. Xia Yan’s lips remained pressed tightly together as he stared at him, his jaw clenched so hard that the tension ran down to his defined jawline. But then, a single tear slipped from the corner of his eye, rolling down onto Xu Cong’s hand.

Scalding hot.

Then, cold.

One after another, without end.

The room remained silent for a long time, only the ticking of time the only sound.

Winter nights came early, and the sunlight indoors gradually cooled as dusk took over.

Xu Cong closed his eyes for a moment.

He still couldn’t bear to see Xia Yan like this. Raising his hand, he wiped away Xia Yan’s tears. “I never meant to quit the group. I really just wanted to leave for a while. Maybe, when I’ve adjusted and I’m not so extreme anymore, I can come back. I can stand on stage with you again. Right?”

But Xia Yan’s tears only fell harder, soaking Xu Cong’s hand.

He could tell—Xu Cong was lying.

Even now, Xu Cong was still trying his best to comfort him.

That only made him even sadder.

Xu Cong rarely saw Xia Yan cry. When he broke his hand on stage during their debut, Xia Yan didn’t make a sound. When he fell from a high place while filming an outdoor variety show, even though his face was deathly pale, he still forced a smile at the camera and said he was fine.

Xia Yan had always been strong, steady at his core, shining like the sun, as if nothing could ever break him.

But now, he was silently shedding tears, looking at Xu Cong as if all the strength had been drained from his body.

….

Xia Yan didn’t even know how he left Xu Cong’s room.

He had stormed in, head full of rehearsed arguments, determined to make Xu Cong take back his words.

What vacation abroad?

What temporary break?

As long as he was D.A’s captain, Xu Cong could never abandon this team.

But in the end, as he walked down the stairs from Xu Cong’s room, it took only a few steps for his mind to go blank, his body weak and unsteady, nearly tumbling down the stairs.

His instincts saved him—his arm caught onto the railing just in time to stop his body from falling forward. But the price was that the carved patterns on the railing scraped against the back of his hand, leaving several scratches that slowly seeped blood.

And then, he simply collapsed onto the steps, unable to get up for a long time.

Xia Yan lifted a hand to cover his face.

Tear tracks still streaked his cheeks, and his eyelids were puffy.

If his haters or industry rivals saw him like this, they’d probably laugh about it until next year.

DA’s captain had always been an unbreakable force in the public eye. Who would have thought he could be this pathetic in private?

But right now, Xia Yan’s mind was blank, his heart just as empty.

Xu Cong’s words, his expression, the memories of the past—all of it looped in his head. The way Xu Cong used to gaze at his back, eyes filled with a tenderness and longing he had never noticed before.

Each replay was like a punch to his heart, leaving him breathless from the pain.

Xia Yan stared blankly at the empty living room before him.

So I made Xu Cong this miserable.

All this time, I thought I was Xu Cong’s best friend, his closest brother, that we were twin stars destined to walk this road together. No matter what happened in the industry, we would always stand side by side. I truly, truly believed that.

But in the end, I was the source of Xu Cong’s suffering.

I’m the worst captain in the world.

Xia Yan wiped his face, unsteadily getting to his feet. He walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed every beer his eyes landed on.

Then, he went back to his room and drank himself into oblivion.

He didn’t even notice when his other teammates came home.

His last memory was stumbling into the bathroom, vomiting until he was utterly drained, fumbling to pull off his clothes but failing, and then collapsing under the showerhead.

Steam filled the space, warm water drenching him from head to toe.

…..

In the days that followed, Xia Yan and Xu Cong’s relationship returned to a freezing point.

But “freezing” wasn’t quite the right word.

They were polite to each other, still spoke normally, still worked together on album promotions, still filmed vlogs cooperatively.

But the natural closeness they once shared was gone.

Xu Cong had officially informed everyone that once the album promotions were over, he would be taking an extended break abroad—for at least six months.

Though it wasn’t public yet, he was already making arrangements with the company.

For this sudden and abrupt decision, he felt sorry for his group members.

“I’m really sorry,” Xu Cong said sincerely. “I’ve been too self-centered and have caused you trouble. I apologize.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Their faces were full of grief, as if they were attending a funeral.

Under normal circumstances, they would’ve already raised hell—grabbing weapons, staging protests, doing whatever it took to stop anyone from leaving.

But now, they simply exchanged glances, first at their manager, who looked like he had already reached enlightenment—one step away from chanting Buddhist sutras—then at their captain, who stood with his arms crossed, silent, his expression cold and unreadable.

No one dared to speak up.

Of course, they had already learned the true reason behind Xu Cong’s decision to go abroad, thanks to Bai Yu’s leak.

It really left them dazed.

Who would have thought Xu Cong actually liked Xia Yan, and that he had been secretly in love for so many years?

Who wouldn’t joke and call him a “Ninja Turtle” upon hearing that?

Now, seeing Xu Cong with a look of utter despair, and having witnessed Xia Yan’s rare drunkenness just a few days ago, everyone clearly had a lot they wanted to say, but no one had the heart to argue anymore.

Everyone fell into silence.

Finally, Xiao Ning asked softly, “So, Xu-ge, you’ll be back in six months, right?”

He asked while gazing at Xu Cong with a hopeful expression.

Xu Cong had never found it so hard to answer a question, especially with so many pairs of eyes on him.

But still, he nodded, maintaining his usual calm demeanor. “Mm.”

And no one else asked any more questions. The news, which should have caused a huge uproar, was quietly resolved.

No one blamed Xu Cong.

And no one foolishly tried to stop him.

It was as if they all believed that, in six months, he would really come back.

The group continued preparing for the new album’s promotions, interacting with fans, rehearsing in the dance studio over and over, and appearing on shows to hype up the new songs.

Before the New Year arrived, they crowded in front of the camera, each holding heart-shaped candles, their handsome faces glowing, sending New Year wishes to their fans.

However recently, Lin Qixu had become obsessed with fortune-telling.

No one knew how he managed to gather a bunch of random things—from turtle shells to tarot cards, and would mumble every day, seeking guidance from the gods.

Then, one morning in winter, after staying up all night, he crawled out of bed, looking like a zombie, stuffing breakfast into his mouth like a starving ghost, and announced to Ye Zhaoyang and Xiao Ning.

“According to my divination, I think there’s still a chance for Xu-ge and the Captain,” he said, his mouth full of bread, almost choking as he tried to talk but stubbornly continued, “My divination shows that Xu-ge won’t actually go abroad. There will be a huge change that affects all of us, and this is what will keep him here.”

A silence fell over the long table.

Ye Zhaoyang’s expression was hard to read as he looked at Lin Qixu. His eyes seemed to say, “Why didn’t the government wipe out superstitions like you along with it?” mixed with “This poor little guy really seems to be out of his mind now, I guess I better not provoke him.”

Xiao Ning still wore his innocent, sweet smile, but even he couldn’t agree. He quietly pushed a glass of milk toward Lin Qixu. “Ge, stop staying up so late, you’re talking nonsense.”

Lin Qixu was about to explode from frustration, rolling his eyes at the two of them.

“I really saw it! Why don’t you believe me?” He yelled at the two of them. “My ancestors were experts! I learned this from my grandma!”

Ye Zhaoyang snickered, “Oh, your grandma taught you tarot?”

Lin Qixu was left speechless.

But he quickly perked up again and rolled his eyes at Ye Zhaoyang. “You shallow mortals don’t understand. Anyway, what I saw is that Xu Cong will stay. He promised to come support my new play…”

He scratched his face, hesitating, unsure whether he should say the next part.

“I also saw that the Captain might have some bad luck…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Ye Zhaoyang slapped him on the back of the head.

“Don’t be a prophet of doom,” Ye Zhaoyang frowned, almost about to kick Lin Qixu. “Do you wish for the captain to have bad luck?”

Didn’t he see how dejected Xia Yan had been these past few days? As soon as the cameras were off, Xia Yan would become as silent as a green plant in the corner, like he was slowly wilting in the winter. He had also been smoking even more than usual, with smoke always wafting around the balcony.

Lin Qixu thought for a moment, muttered a few curses, and decided to admit that he wasn’t very skilled in divination.

“Yeah, maybe I misread the Captain’s situation,” he muttered. “But I still believe Xu-ge will stay. He promised to support my new play…”

Ye Zhaoyang sighed and didn’t respond this time.

He looked at his phone.

February 17th.

Only three days until the New Year. After they finished work the day after tomorrow, everyone would go back to their homes to celebrate.

No one took Lin Qixu’s words seriously, not even himself. Everyone continued to work as usual.

The day before the New Year, they went to a TV station to record a variety show.

At the end, the host gave each of them two red envelopes and asked them to write something they wanted to say to the team member they cared about the most.

As they joked about who would get more or less, everyone still obediently took their envelopes.

Xia Yan held his red envelope, one hand gripping a pen, but he didn’t know what to write.

He looked across the table at Xu Cong, who also hadn’t written anything yet. But slowly, he uncapped the pen and began to write.

A few minutes later, the host asked everyone to exchange their envelopes.

Xia Yan received the most, with almost everyone writing to him.

As for his two envelopes, one was for the entire D.A group, and the other was for Xu Cong.

If it were any other time, the others would have already started teasing, saying the Captain was showing favoritism.

But today, some just scratched their noses, some clapped, but no one dared to speak.

Xu Cong slowly opened the envelope, and when he saw Xia Yan’s flamboyant handwriting, he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat.

There weren’t many words.

Just a simple phrase—“Wishing you all the best.”

Xu Cong’s fingers subconsciously tightened around the envelope, and it felt as if someone had struck him in the chest.

He turned his head to look at Xia Yan, who was opening the envelope he had written for him.

“Eat on time, don’t push yourself too hard, if you have any problems, complain to Bai Yu more.”

Xia Yan saw this line and couldn’t help but smile, but the next second, he inexplicably felt a bit teary.

The host was still livening up the atmosphere, reading everyone’s messages from their red envelopes one by one.

A golden balloon exploded above everyone’s heads, and in the brilliant golden confetti, Xia Yan quietly looked towards Xu Cong’s direction.

The new year was almost here.

It seemed like nothing had changed.

Except for Xu Cong leaving, so even the farewell red envelopes had turned into parting advice.

Just now, the host had mentioned that they could make a wish at the moment the golden balloon burst.

Xia Yan thought, he didn’t actually have any particular wish.

But if he and Xu Cong could break the ice, end this awkward situation, and end their absurd separation, he seemed willing to pay any price.

…

A few hours later, D.A finished all the recordings and left the TV station.

When getting into the van, Xu Cong sat in the second row, and Xia Yan hesitated before sitting in the third row.

Even though nothing had really happened that day, he felt inexplicably tired and slowly closed his eyes.

When he woke up again, the van suddenly braked hard, almost throwing him out of his seat.

Xia Yan covered his head, feeling dizzy and confused. “What happened?”

Ye Zhaoyang answered with a stern face, “We’re being followed by paparazzi.”

And almost as soon as he spoke, their van was hit again.

Two vans were closely tailing them, and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t shake them off. From time to time, the paparazzi would slam into their van, trying to force them to stop.

Xia Yan felt nauseous.

He had been in the industry long enough to experience the terror of paparazzi, but this was the first time he encountered such lunatics.

His temper was about to explode: “Are they chasing the car or trying to kill someone? Seems like they want to spend the New Year in jail. Bai Yu, let me out, I’ll go see who it is! I’ll make sure to give them trending topics tomorrow!”

“Stop making things worse!”

Bai Yu yelled from the front row, “We’re about to shake them off!”

But that’s when things took a turn.

Just as Bai Yu thought they were close to victory, one of the vans slammed straight into them, metal colliding with metal, producing a sharp, ear-piercing sound. The tires screeched against the ground.

They were in the outskirts, and several street lights were broken, so visibility wasn’t great.

The driver didn’t notice a pit on the side of the road that hadn’t been repaired. As he swerved to avoid it, the van crashed into them, and the entire car flipped over.

The inside of the car shook violently.

Everyone was thrown from their seats but was yanked back by the seatbelts.

The airbags deployed, and shards of glass fell all over the car.

The front of the vehicle was almost completely deformed.

Bai Yu, himself shaken, was dizzy and had glass shards all over his face, which cut open the corner of his mouth, and blood dripped down, giving a horrifying yet somewhat comical appearance.

But after regaining his senses, he immediately looked at the team members in the back row. When he saw them, his heart nearly stopped.