ABOES 107: Call Me Qing Gege

Hearing that oddly specific nickname, Chi Yunxing couldn’t help but smile.

He looked up at Duan Zhiyan’s jaw and asked softly, “Why did you call me ‘little boyfriend’?”

Duan Zhiyan lowered his head, pressing a kiss to the corner of Chi Yunxing’s still-reddened eyes before replying gently, “You’re so much younger than me—what else would you be if not my little boyfriend?”

Chi Yunxing thought about it and, surprisingly, found it made sense. He chuckled softly to himself.

Seeing him finally smile, Duan Zhiyan let out a quiet sigh of relief. He reached out and brushed his thumb against the corner of Yunxing’s eye. “They’re all puffy from crying.”

Chi Yunxing felt a little embarrassed but didn’t avoid his touch. Then he asked, “So what should I call you?”

Duan Zhiyan looked at him.

Chi Yunxing suggested, “Big boyfriend?”

Duan Zhiyan laughed. “What kind of weird nickname is that?”

Chi Yunxing clicked his tongue. “Well, we should match, right? You call me something, I call you something back.”

Duan Zhiyan gave it a bit more thought and ended up agreeing. “Hmm but ‘big boyfriend’ doesn’t work.”

Chi Yunxing widened his red-rimmed eyes. “Why not?!”

“Sounds ugly.” Duan Zhiyan spit out the two words flatly.

Chi Yunxing: “……”

“Then you come up with one?”

Duan Zhiyan actually started thinking seriously.

Watching him be so focused made Chi Yunxing want to laugh, but he didn’t interrupt. He just let him think.

After a long pause, Duan Zhiyan finally said, “I’ve thought of a good one.”

“What is it?”

As Chi Yunxing met Duan Zhiyan’s gaze, he suddenly had a bad feeling that letting Duan Zhiyan choose had been a mistake.

Sure enough—

Duan Zhiyan’s lips moved, and he uttered three words that made Chi Yunxing’s heart race and face flush. “Qing gege.”¹a romantic and flirtatious nickname or like a call sign, calling someone “Qing Gege” implies romantic fondness with a slightly bashful or suggestive tone—like calling someone “darling” or “lover boy,” but with a uniquely Chinese cultural flavor.

Then, as if nothing happened, Duan Zhiyan asked, “Yunxing, what do you think of that one?”

“Not good at all!” Chi Yunxing practically ground out through his teeth. “You—how could you… how could you…” He stammered but couldn’t get the rest of the sentence out. Instead, he let out a low huff. “Either way, I’m not saying it!”

Duan Zhiyan pressed, “Really not going to say it?”

“No!” Chi Yunxing’s reply was extremely firm.

Duan Zhiyan sighed, disappointed but not pushing. “Alright. If you don’t want to, I won’t make you.”

Chi Yunxing turned away, refusing to look at Duan Zhiyan’s pitiful act.

So he didn’t notice the smile quietly rising in Duan Zhiyan’s eyes.

It didn’t matter. Even if he wouldn’t say it now, one day he would.

Duan Zhiyan seemed awfully confident about that.

…

Scapegoat’s opening ceremony was scheduled for the day after they arrived on set. After the ceremony, there was a small press event.

During the press conference, Chi Yunxing spotted a familiar face among the reporters.

He thought for a moment and quickly realized that it was the same reporter who’d asked him questions at Chi Xiwen’s birthday banquet.

Their eyes met, and when Chi Yunxing gave her a little smile, she almost jumped in excitement.

Chi Yunxing remembered her and he smiled at her!

The reporter nearly fainted from happiness.

Beside him, Duan Zhiyan saw the entire exchange and suddenly reached under the table to grab Chi Yunxing’s hand.

Chi Yunxing looked at him in confusion. Duan Zhiyan’s eyes were a bit dark, completely unbothered about showing his jealousy.

Chi Yunxing widened his eyes—he’d only smiled at the reporter! That was just being polite!

Was this man seriously being like this?!

As it turned out, Duan Zhiyan could be even more shameless.

During the next round of questions, that same reporter finally got her chance to speak. She addressed Duan Zhiyan with two questions.

“Hello, Teacher Duan. I’ve already gotten a general idea of the kind of story Scapegoat is telling. From what I understand, the character you’re playing is a full-on villain. This isn’t your first time playing a villain, so I’m curious—how do you feel this character differs from your previous antagonist roles? What’s your personal take on him?”

Duan Zhiyan picked up the mic but instead of answering right away, he smiled and said to her, “I remember seeing you before.”

His tone was confident.

The reporter quickly nodded, smiling. “Yes! Half a year ago, when you attended an awards ceremony—I was there too.”

Duan Zhiyan nodded with a small smile, then began answering her question. “For me, Yu Nian is a new challenge. He’s quite different from any role I’ve taken on before, and some of the emotional aspects are a bit tricky for me to get a handle on.”

Everyone was caught off guard by that answer.

They hadn’t expected that there were still roles Duan Zhiyan would find difficult to grasp.

The reporter was stunned for a second before following up. “Can you share why? Is it because you’ve never played a character like this before?”

Duan Zhiyan replied, “No, it’s because I’m working with Yunxing.”

The reporter asked, “It’s because of Yunxing?”

Chi Yunxing was dumbfounded too. He turned his head to stare at Duan Zhiyan.

Why was this related to him now?

Duan Zhiyan went on, “Yes. A lot of viewers still associate me and Yunxing with the LiChu CP. I’m worried I won’t be able to break that image. So the character Yu Nian is quite a challenge for me.”

Reporter: “……”

Chi Yunxing: “……”

As if that wasn’t enough, Duan Zhiyan turned to Chi Yunxing and added, “Right, Yunxing?”

If not for the setting, Chi Yunxing would’ve snapped back, Right your face!

But with all the cameras pointed at him, he could only smile stiffly. “It definitely is a challenge.”

Duan Zhiyan added one more line, “But we can’t help it—our CP fans are too strong.”

Chi Yunxing: “……”

If you didn’t say that last sentence, no one would’ve thought you were mute!

Since Duan Zhiyan had already brought up their CP, the reporters naturally wouldn’t let go of the opportunity.

As a result, Chi Yunxing had to answer a string of CP-related questions like:
“What do you think about your CP fans?”
“Have you considered giving them fanservice?”
“Do you think Scapegoat will grow or shrink your CP base?”

While answering, Chi Yunxing mentally cried, This is it. We’re definitely trending again after this.

He was right. They didn’t even need to wait for the press event to end—before it was over, his and Duan Zhiyan’s names were already trending under the headline.

#DuanZhiyanChiYunxingTalkCPFansForTheFirstTime

CP fans on Weibo basically exploded.

【Waaahhh they’re so sweet! I knew this CP was god-tier!】
【LiChu forever!】
【Screw it, from today I’m not just a LiChu fan—I ship Zhixing now too!】
【Come on girls, invest in Zhixing—it’s 100% worth it!】
【Sweetest CP alive strikes again today!】

…

When it came to comments like these, Chi Yunxing and Duan Zhiyan’s solo stans had long stopped being surprised. Compared to how they used to rush to clarify and shut down rumors, they were now gradually taking a more hands-off, “whatever happens, happens” approach.

Why?

Because every time they’d go out of their way to “debunk” a rumor, a day later, Duan Zhiyan and Chi Yunxing would be flirting on Weibo.

Eventually, the solo stans realized all their denials were pointless and only got them slapped in the face by the very idols they were defending.

Not that the fans were mad at the two of them.

After all, their relationship was clearly genuine. You couldn’t exactly demand they stop interacting online.

It was precisely because they interacted so often that CP fans became more and more obsessed—convinced their ship was real and unshakable.

Seeing the latest trending topic, the solo stans rushed to watch the livestream but before doing so, they quietly adjusted their comment filters.

They added words like, “LiChu CP”, “Zhixing, and “CP”.

Some longtime Duan Zhiyan fans even added “Chi Yunxing” and “Yunxing”.

Chi Yunxing’s fans did the same thing, adding “Duan Zhiyan”, “Teacher Duan” and “Duan Ge”.

Only after these filters were set did the solo fans rewatch the livestream—much more at ease now.

…

Neither Chi Yunxing nor Duan Zhiyan knew what their fans were doing.

Right now, Chi Yunxing had Duan Zhiyan by the collar, demanding answers.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?!” he glared, eyes wide, watching Duan Zhiyan’s face for any reaction.

Duan Zhiyan was completely honest, no attempt to hide. “Yes, I did it on purpose,” Then he smirked. “What, is my little boyfriend mad again?”

Just as he leaned in to kiss him, Chi Yunxing pushed him away. “Who said I’m mad? I’m not mad!”

“Then why are you glaring like that?” Duan Zhiyan leaned in and nuzzled his neck, pretending to be pitiful.

His breath was hot against Chi Yunxing’s pale skin, leaving a rosy trail in its wake.

Chi Yunxing twitched—ticklish—and shrank back, trying to push his head away. “Don’t think you can distract me…”

“I’m not distracting you,” Duan Zhiyan murmured against his collarbone, leaving a kiss there.

A shiver ran through Chi Yunxing’s whole body. His ears turned red. “What are you doing…”

“It’s been a while for us,” Duan Zhiyan’s voice was husky. “Filming starts tomorrow…”

If you listened closely, there was even a hint of grievance in his tone.

Chi Yunxing looked up into his dark, smoldering eyes.

The kisses came down one after another.

His long lashes cast shadows beneath his eyes. Whatever he was going through, his lashes trembled—sometimes lightly, sometimes intensely—until tears welled up and blurred them.

His breath quickened. He pressed against Duan Zhiyan’s chest, unable to resist anymore, and whispered, “I—I haven’t showered yet…”

Duan Zhiyan smiled and kissed him again. “Want me to carry you?”

Chi Yunxing buried his face in Duan Zhiyan’s chest.

That shower took nearly an hour.

When it was finally over, Chi Yunxing was placed—still damp—on the giant round bed in the center of their hotel suite.

He rolled over and suddenly realized why Duan Zhiyan had insisted on sharing a room.

…

Slender fingers gripped the bedsheet tightly. A drop of sweat trailed down the back of his hand and soaked into the fabric below.

Soft gasps and low moans echoed throughout the room—mixed in with a few clear, a few slurred repetitions of “Qing gege.”

As he drifted off, Chi Yunxing thought to himself, Duan Zhiyan still managed to get what he wanted.

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  a romantic and flirtatious nickname or like a call sign, calling someone “Qing Gege” implies romantic fondness with a slightly bashful or suggestive tone—like calling someone “darling” or “lover boy,” but with a uniquely Chinese cultural flavor.