47: Hide you away.

Was Zhou Shurong really not harboring any ulterior motives?

Qin Yan quietly looked at him.

The topic had drifted far away by now—Zhou Shurong was recounting how, after regaining consciousness, he realized he had become a ghost, how shocked he was. He talked about accidentally breaking a lightbulb, trying to fix it while Qin Yan wasn’t paying attention, only to make it worse. He described the first time Qin Yan went out without an umbrella—he could only shrink back behind the door and watch him walk into the sunlight, and ever since then, he made sure to always stay under the umbrella.

Qin Yan was a good listener. Smiling, as if immersed in a story adapted from a real-life case. He nodded from time to time, played along with small responses, which made Zhou Shurong more and more enthusiastic.

That one sentence, though, passed by like a side note.

Qin Yan didn’t seem to take it seriously.

Then he asked, “How did you become like this? Letting everyone see you?”

Zhou Shurong: “…”

His hands, crossed and resting on his knees, suddenly clenched. Qin Yan noticed the muscles from his jaw down to his throat tensed and shifted as his Adam’s apple moved.

Then Zhou Shurong reined in his smile, bitterness creeping in. His lashes trembled like butterfly wings—Qin Yan could feel the unease in him.

He even pinched himself, as though enduring some kind of pain.

Qin Yan instantly regretted asking.

He didn’t know if Zhou Shurong was in pain. He took that hand and held it in his palm, gently rubbing at the fingernail marks.

“If you don’t want to say, then don’t!”

Zhou Shurong lifted his lashes, his gaze flowing like water.

Qin Yan said gently, “Are you hungry? I—”

He stopped himself. How would a ghost eat?

That touch was just too real—it made him blur the truth, like Zhou Shurong was just sick: a little cold, a little pale, that’s all.

He was always trying not to think about the fact that Zhou Shurong was a ghost.

Clearly, he knew it too—how hard it was for people and ghosts to truly be together.

Just like those old TV dramas. In the end, the scholar and the ghost girl always parted. The ghost reincarnated, the scholar passed the imperial exams, and only eighteen years later did he marry the reincarnated her.

—Ah, he found a topic to shift to.

“Shurong, what’s the underworld like? Are there Black and White Wuchang? The Ten Yama Kings?”

“I haven’t been there.”

“Oh, right. You said after regaining consciousness, you were already in the human world.”

He muttered, “If ghosts are real, then what about reincarnation?”

Zhou Shurong’s voice held a trace of grievance: “Ah Yan, do you want me to reincarnate?”

“No—” he hesitated and changed course, “I mean, maybe. I’m afraid if you stay here, some Daoist priest or monk might come ‘enforce justice on Heaven’s behalf.’”

“They don’t have that kind of ability,” Zhou Shurong said calmly. “So many strange incidents have happened recently—have you seen any of them show up?”

Zhou Langxing said something similar too.

“Then… who took care of Uncle Wei?”

Zhou Shurong went silent for a moment. “There are some gifted individuals. The authorities gathered them together to form a special department, specifically to handle such events.”

Qin Yan immediately looked around in alarm, afraid someone from that department might pop out at any moment.

“Will they try to catch you?”

“Doesn’t seem like catching. They just destroy ghosts completely—make their souls scatter.”

Qin Yan’s face turned even paler. In a panic, he grabbed Zhou Shurong and pulled him, “Let’s go back! We’re never coming out again!”

Zhou Shurong let himself be pushed along, “But I still wanted to go shopping with you…”

“Shop for what! I won’t allow it!”

“Aren’t you curious how you can see me now?”

“I care more about the result than the process. I just know that I can see you now, standing under the sun, and that makes me happy!”

Then he suddenly paused.

“Wait!” Qin Yan grabbed his shoulders, stood on tiptoe, trying to see every expression on his face. He lowered his voice and asked, “To become like this… did you have to do something wicked and unforgivable?”

Zhou Shurong glanced at him. “And if I did?”

Qin Yan wrestled with it for a moment, then waved his hand grandly as if it were nothing, but whispered nervously, “If you did… then don’t let anyone know. Don’t even tell me. What if I can’t keep the secret?”

Zhou Shurong couldn’t help but smile.

“You really think that?”

“I do!”

Zhou Shurong frowned slightly, “If I don’t tell you, then I’ll have to bear the guilt all by myself.”

He cradled his chest like a delicate heroine, sighing pitifully, “But it’s fine. My heart doesn’t beat anymore anyway. If my conscience rots, maybe it’s already pitch black.”

Qin Yan froze.

His boyfriend playing the pitiful card like that—it felt familiar. As if Zhou Langxing had possessed him. He swore, Zhou Shurong used to be so dignified in front of him. He was never this cheeky.

Probably, taking advantage of being a ghost, he had openly observed Zhou Langxing’s daily dramatics.

Thinking about it that way, Qin Yan suddenly felt a wave of guilt float his way.

But Zhou Shurong’s ability to act pitiful wasn’t very developed. It wasn’t subtle either. Qin Yan could see right through him.

Maybe… he was doing it on purpose, to give in to Qin Yan?

Qin Yan thought a bit more. If this was his way of “slacking off,” then what if he wasn’t slacking off?

Earlier, he’d looked so uneasy, even pinched himself… ah, men are so full of tricks!

These thoughts flashed by in just a moment.

Qin Yan decided to go along with the act. His face suddenly shifted into shock, pupils trembling, hands clutching Zhou Shurong’s shoulders as he shook him hard:

“No! That’s absolutely not what I meant! What do you want me to do? Tell me, will you? Let’s bear this pain together—stop saying there’s a you and a me!”

Zhou Shurong looked at him, deeply moved. “Ziwei—”

TN:  “Ziwei” is a reference to the character Xia Ziwei (夏紫薇) from the popular Chinese drama 《還珠格格》 (My Fair Princess). Zhou Shurong dramatically calls out “Ziwei—” mimicking a famous emotional scene from My Fair Princess. He is mocking Qin Yan’s dramatic line.

Qin Yan: “……”

“Ah, thank goodness I’m not wearing glasses—if they fell just now, they’d have had to yell ‘Cut!’”

Qin Yan let go of his hand. “You’re mixing up the lines. The director already yelled ‘Cut.’”

“How could that be? Wasn’t this My Fair Princess?”

“It’s Ripples of Desire!”

“Huh?”

“You couldn’t tell who that brain-jiggling gesture was imitating?”

Zhou Shurong scratched his nose. “Well, My Fair Princess was more widely known, after all.”

After this ridiculous back-and-forth, the fear Qin Yan had toward the Observation Society had mostly dissipated.

“Hurry up and tell me!”

Qin Yan placed one hand on his waist and pointed to the sky with the other, pressing his three longest fingers tightly together as he vowed, “From this day forward, I swear I’ll never touch alcohol again—just in case I blabber when I’m drunk. Otherwise—”

Just as he was about to say what would happen otherwise, Zhou Shurong reached out and pulled him into an embrace, gently pressing his raised fingers down with a hint of helplessness. “There’s no need to make an oath out of this.”

“No need to swear like that.”

“I’m just putting pressure on myself.”

“Your pressure’s contagious. You’re passing it on to me. Aren’t you going to do something about that?”

How to manage it?

Qin Yan looked at Zhou Shurong, thought for a moment, then reached out and grabbed a handful of air from his shoulder, saying seriously, “I’ve got it back.”

Zhou Shurong covered his mouth and chuckled softly.

“Don’t laugh, I’m being serious. By the way, do I talk in my sleep?”

“You’re still planning to sleep with others and worry about talking in your sleep?”

Qin Yan puffed up his cheeks and gave him a light push. The force wasn’t strong—just pretending.

“Alright, now I’m serious. I’m going to tell you. Listen carefully, I’ll only say it once. There won’t be a second time.”

“Stop nagging!”

Zhou Shurong slowly walked with Qin Yan. The sunlight shone on their hair, casting a soft glow around them. He lowered his head slightly and whispered in Qin Yan’s ear:

“It’s not evil, I just had an emperor’s dream, spreading the rain and dew equally to all the helpless and lost ghosts.”

Qin Yan was sure he didn’t understand.

It wasn’t his problem, it was Zhou Shurong’s.

“How else should I describe it?” Zhou Shurong clicked his tongue, a bit troubled.

“Let me put it this way. I attended a buffet-style dinner, with plenty of snacks for everyone to take. I just took a little from here, a little from there, and ended up full.”

Qin Yan seemed to understand, “You eat ghosts?”

Zhou Shurong nodded, “Mhm.”

“Stop acting cute!” Qin Yan was a little distressed.

“You can’t accept it?”

“Although you put it simply, isn’t that just survival of the fittest, big fish eat small fish? If you can eat them, someone will come to eat you!”

“So you’re worried about me…”

“Ah!” Qin Yan almost screamed, “The outside world is too terrifying! People want to deal with you, and ghosts want to deal with you too!”

“You’re making me sound tragic, like a villain being hunted down.”

“No difference!!”

Zhou Shurong patted his head, “What are you afraid of? Didn’t you say you’d hide me?”

Qin Yan grabbed his hand and glared at him, “Don’t twist my words, I mean—let’s go back quickly and never come out again!”

Zhou Shurong pondered, “No difference.”

Qin Yan: “…”

Qin Yan really wanted to hide Zhou Shurong. He decided to endure and wait for the outside world to calm down before coming out. As for supplies, he could just buy them online. Delivery to the doorstep, very convenient.

When they got home, before he could settle down, the principal called again. Qin Yan had been irresponsible with his previous words, and now he was avoiding her. He didn’t answer the phone and instead checked the group chat where the principal had subtly criticized him. Since Qin Yan hadn’t been responding in the group, the principal mentioned his name directly.

As he read through the fiery words, Qin Yan’s anger was ignited.

He quickly turned to Zhou Shurong, seeking his help to calm the fire within him.

He calmed down.

No need to overthink it. It was sudden to say he didn’t want to work tomorrow. Indeed, it was his fault. After the principal reasoned with him, it was even worse to make things worse by offering to resign.

The principal was right. Such behavior was irresponsible.

The industry hated sudden changes of heart, especially when someone left without even a short handover.

But life is full of big decisions.

The phone kept ringing, relentlessly, and Zhou Shurong turned to Qin Yan, “Hesitating? Don’t want to resign anymore?”

Qin Yan looked at him, “I’m afraid when I go to work, you’ll secretly slip out.”

Zhou Shurong smiled, “So stay and keep me company. Right? You don’t want to see me rot alone at home.”

“I don’t want to.”

Qin Yan honestly said, “But I also feel bad for the principal. I don’t have the courage to answer her call.”

At this moment, someone sent him a private message. It was Teacher Mi Zhou, eating melon seeds while gathering gossip. She also said if the Sunflower class was left with just her managing it, she wasn’t sure if she could handle it.

Zhou Shurong stretched out his hand, “Then I’ll take care of it.”

Qin Yan shook his head. If he could solve it, he wouldn’t push it onto Zhou Shurong. Besides, if the principal scolded someone, the innocent Zhou Shurong would become the target.

He placed his hand in Zhou Shurong’s palm and squeezed it, smiling, “My courage is back.”

Then, he stood up and walked to the window to answer the phone.

Zhou Shurong didn’t purposely listen. He opened the TV cabinet, took out incense and other items, and lit incense for himself.

When the incense burned halfway, Qin Yan walked over holding his phone.

“Wow, self-sufficient.”

“Aren’t you? You cook for yourself too. It’s a pity I can’t taste your cooking anymore. I miss it.”

Qin Yan sat down, “You say it so calmly, it’s hard for me to feel sad.”

“Oh? If I describe myself as tragic, what would you do?”

Zhou Shurong held the incense stick like a cookie stick covered in chocolate, as if it were a snack. He glanced at Qin Yan.

“Find a rope and hang myself.” He said lightly.

Zhou Shurong’s gaze returned to Qin Yan, studying him carefully, as if inspecting some unfamiliar human material.

“Really?”

“Haha, just kidding!”

Qin Yan had a “you’ve been fooled” look on his face.

Zhou Shurong’s expression was intriguing. The TV was playing a DVD, and he deliberately put on his glasses. The cold light from the screen reflected on the lenses. Qin Yan could barely make out his eyes behind them.

He lowered his head again, took a deep breath, and the smoke entered his nose, turning into a pleasant smell, soothing his restless heart.

But it was only a temporary effect.

Who knows when he’ll be immune to it, and then…

Zhou Shurong stopped thinking about those troublesome things and closed his eyes. Qin Yan quietly moved closer to him, resting his head on his shoulder.

Zhou Shurong opened his eyes slightly.

Qin Yan softly said, “It’s nice, no need to turn on the air conditioning, saving on electricity.”

Zhou Shurong gazed at the TV screen, where the two main characters were acting out a tear-jerking tragic romance. His face had no expression, but the air around his brows and eyes still exuded a gentle vibe.

“Did you reach an agreement?”

“She wants me to wait a few days while she interviews a new teacher.”

“You didn’t agree.”

“Right. I decisively said: tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that… I won’t be going to work there anymore. I’m even planning to quit this job altogether.”

“Why?”

“Taking care of such young children is tiring, and I can’t split myself. Right now, I just want to take care of you.”

Zhou Shurong slightly tilted his head, noticing Qin Yan’s delicate nose, pale and fine. His hand itched, and without hesitation, he pinched it.