Chapter 24 – Good News

Gu Yiming only had five days off. Fang Xiao didn’t know what time the shooting team required him to report back, so after their morning run on the fourth day of the Lunar New Year, he asked Gu Yiming if he could drive him there. Gu Yiming had been in good spirits, but the question suddenly dampened his mood. Even though he remained curled up on the sofa in the same position, his entire aura grew heavy, like the oppressive humidity before a summer rain.

Fang Xiao didn’t hear a response and peeked out from the kitchen. He saw Gu Yiming sit up and slump unhappily against the back of the sofa, watching him. Fang Xiao couldn’t help but laugh. “What? Don’t want to leave?”

He reached out with damp fingers and poked Gu Yiming’s cheek. Gu Yiming didn’t dodge, burying his chin in his folded arms as he gazed up at Fang Xiao. A drop of water slid down his cheek and landed in the crook of his arm. Fang Xiao actually felt a pang of tenderness. He sighed. “Xiao Gu, you like me so much, but I don’t like you back. Doesn’t it hurt to see me all the time these past few days?”

“A little,” Gu Yiming admitted. “But I’ll get used to it. It’s not unbearable. Compared to not seeing you at all, I’d rather see you every day.”

…And you might not dislike me as much as you think. Gu Yiming might not have any romantic experience, but that didn’t mean he was clueless—he was practically an armchair love expert after scrolling through endless social media posts.

As an instinct-driven competitor, Gu Yiming remained optimistic and at peace today.

Fang Xiao felt a bittersweet ache in his chest. He wanted to push Gu Yiming away, but it seemed there was nowhere left to retreat. So he pretended nothing had happened and went back to cooking. Gu Yiming, however, refused to let him off the hook and followed him into the kitchen. His cooking skills weren’t bad—apparently, he’d taught himself out of necessity when no one was home. This pitiful backstory made Fang Xiao’s heart swell with affection. On one hand, he proudly thought, My little idol is so independent and resilient! On the other, he belatedly realized he was becoming increasingly unable to resist him.

This was truly strange. Fang Xiao wondered where his much-vaunted self-control had gone. When he first returned to Beijing, he could still firmly maintain his stance as a rational fan, like a concerned father planning a psychological recovery plan for his idol. But now, he found himself softening constantly, his mind frequently flooded with thoughts like *He’s so sweet, so adorable*. There was no earth-shattering external conflict—his defenses were simply melting away as his heart warmed.

No.

Expressionless, Fang Xiao gripped the kitchen knife and chopped the lettuce on the cutting board. He had standards.

In the afternoon, with nothing else to do, Fang Xiao continued working on his remix. Since childhood, he’d been told he lacked talent. Later, out of sheer defiance, he threw himself into studying harmony and music theory. Combined with his mathematical background, his interests quickly led him to the cutting edge of experimental music. Still, he mostly made a living composing dance tracks and ballads. The original demo of this song was an EDM track that hadn’t sold, but over the past few days, he’d rearranged it into a slow-tempo love song, planning to pitch it again.

Independent creators like him usually sold their songs directly to producers at record labels, bypassing studios. Unknown composers could only cold-email their demos, but after a few collaborations, they could send tracks directly to assistants or even the producers themselves. Fang Xiao had many such contacts and sent the remixed demo to a few suitable ones. Soon, he received a reply.

The joke about the music industry being full of gay men wasn’t unfounded—the producer who replied was openly gay and had once tried to hit on Fang Xiao, who’d brushed him off with an excuse. The producer accepted the file titled “Love Song Demo” and messaged back: “Oh? Wrote me a love song?”

Fang Xiao instinctively glanced at Gu Yiming, who looked up just as quickly, blinking in confusion. It was just harmless flirting, so Fang Xiao shook his head slightly and turned back to reply with a cold-faced emoji.

Gu Yiming, sitting cross-legged on the floor, had been fiddling with his phone earlier. After catching Fang Xiao’s glance, he scooted over to watch him work. Seeing the exchange, Gu Yiming frowned, hesitating to speak. Fang Xiao found it amusing. “Just ask if you want to.”

Gu Yiming obliged. “You wrote him a love song?”

“I’m trying to sell him a love song,” Fang Xiao corrected.

Gu Yiming nodded solemnly.

Fang Xiao expected him to press further, but Gu Yiming seemed to drop the subject easily, as if it no longer bothered him.

…Such complete trust—he really was still a kid.

Fang Xiao sighed inwardly. Logically, he knew he should stick to his standards, but deep down, he felt inexplicably lighter, as if he’d built a Maginot Line atop a foundation of melting spring ice.

Once Gu Yiming finished whatever secret task he’d been doing on his phone and noticed Fang Xiao wasn’t busy anymore, he announced it was time to head back to the Shooting Sports Center. Fang Xiao drove him there effortlessly, heading toward Shijingshan. But when they were about to exit the main road, Gu Yiming directed him to keep driving south. “Take the second exit ahead… turn left… ah, we’re here!”

Fang Xiao pulled over as instructed, stopping in front of an ordinary shopping center. Before he could ask, Gu Yiming pushed the car door open, jogged a few steps, and disappeared through the glass doors. Fang Xiao was surprised and a little hurt—after clinging to him all day, Gu Yiming hadn’t even said goodbye before leaving.

But Gu Yiming didn’t let Fang Xiao stew for long. He soon returned, opening the car door with a bouquet of dew-kissed roses in his arms.

Fang Xiao was stunned.

Gu Yiming held the flowers out to him. “These… thank you for hosting me.”

Fang Xiao didn’t take them. “Xiao Gu, you know roses aren’t a ‘thank you’ gesture, right?”

“I know. I just… wanted to give you roses.” Gu Yiming pursed his lips. “It’s not Valentine’s Day roses. I’ll give you those separately.”

When Fang Xiao still didn’t take them, Gu Yiming placed the bouquet on his own lap, sitting stiffly, visibly nervous. “If you don’t want them, I’ll take them back. But I’ll keep giving them to you. I’m pursuing you.”

He looked at Fang Xiao, but Fang Xiao was staring at the roses on his lap. It was an exquisite bouquet, still glistening with dew, staining Gu Yiming’s black coat with damp patches, as if sulking. The vibrant red petals trembled slightly with Gu Yiming’s breathing, like a young, beating heart.

You’ll ruin him.

Fang Xiao warned himself. He looked away, meeting Gu Yiming’s eyes, and tried to reason with him. “I’m not right for you. Friendship and romance are different—right now, you’re just—”

He suddenly couldn’t finish. Those arguments made no sense—Gu Yiming was healthy and whole now. Fang Xiao looked at him and saw only his clumsy, earnest love. He had no right to judge him based on his own past.

“It’s not your fault—it’s mine,” Fang Xiao said after a pause. “Xiao Gu, I’m terrible at handling intimacy. My boundaries are messed up, and I break down easily. Dating me is exhausting. You don’t even have experience—you wouldn’t know how to deal with it. You’ve never seen me fall apart… Xiao Gu, as a fan, I’m confident I’ll always like you. But romance… I can’t do it right now.”

“…You always try to show me the worst parts, hoping to scare me off,” Gu Yiming muttered, sounding aggrieved.

Fang Xiao said, “They’re all possibilities.”

He restarted the car and turned toward the Shooting Sports Center.

There were countless possibilities in life, and not every one had to be planned for the worst-case scenario. Even the bad situations Fang Xiao described might not be so bad for Gu Yiming.

Gu Yiming stared down at the roses in his lap, lost in thought, then suddenly felt conflicted. Was Fang Xiao really rejecting him? He knew what Fang Xiao’s genuine rejection looked like—like that mistaken confession, when Fang Xiao had said “no” with gentle cruelty, leaving no room for negotiation.

He lifted his gaze to Fang Xiao’s profile and had an epiphany. “Fang Xiao, do you like domineering CEOs because you want someone to call you out when you say one thing but mean another?”

Fang Xiao didn’t answer.

Not only did he stay silent, but the tips of his ears, exposed by his now short haircut, flushed faintly pink—whether from anger or embarrassment at being seen through, it was hard to say.

Gu Yiming thought it over and decided to pretend he hadn’t noticed. Holding the roses upright in his lap, he stared straight ahead. “I’m not as fragile as you think. I don’t mind working hard. If there are things you can’t handle, I’ll learn to handle them. And… you say you’re bad at intimacy, but I think we’re already very close.”

At this, he couldn’t resist stealing a glance at Fang Xiao.

“I cherish you… We’ll both be fine. If bad things happen, we’ll face them together. I can take care of myself, and if you’re willing, I’d like to take care of you too in the future.”

His entire focus was on Fang Xiao, but not in a controlling way. Whether he performed well in competitions, whether he could reach an understanding with his coach and roommate about his sexuality—these weren’t Fang Xiao’s concerns but matters of personal ability. Having rebuilt himself from fragile sand, he wouldn’t crumble again easily. He didn’t want Fang Xiao to be so afraid.

They were just going to date, not destroy the world.

“Don’t be scared,” Gu Yiming boldly declared. “If we fail, I’ll take responsibility.”

The trip from the Shooting Sports Center to the flower shop had taken mere minutes, but the return journey was plagued by red lights, as if fate wanted to give Fang Xiao more time to think. He pondered for as long as the lights delayed them, and Gu Yiming waited patiently. He was young—he had all the time in the world to wait.

When they reached the Shooting Sports Center, Fang Xiao parked under a tree near the training base entrance—the same spot where, months ago, he’d picked up Gu Yiming for their miraculous journey. Gu Yiming took it as a good omen, his lips quirking slightly.

Then Fang Xiao said, “Xiao Gu, remember our agreement?”

Gu Yiming’s smile vanished instantly. He mumbled, “I remember.”

“I keep my promises. Xiao Gu, you’ve done well—now it’s my turn. I need to prepare properly.” Fang Xiao turned to look at him, offering a gentle, harmless smile. “Be good and wait a few more months, okay?”

Gu Yiming was silent for a moment before grumbling, “You’re brushing me off.”

“I’m not.” Fang Xiao hesitated, then reached out and took the roses, cradling them in his arms. To his surprise, they felt warm—Gu Yiming had been clutching them so tightly the cellophane had heated up.

“I’ve accepted the flowers,” Fang Xiao said softly, as if making a huge concession. “Can’t I be a little coy?”

“Really?” Gu Yiming was skeptical. He remembered Fang Xiao’s deceitfulness and cunning—in his eyes, Fang Xiao’s credibility wasn’t great.

“Really,” Fang Xiao assured him. “I’ll pay a deposit. Train hard, and… after the selection trials, I’ll sing for you.”

“…Something you wrote?”

“Something I wrote.”

“For me?”

“…For you.”

“A love song?”

“…”

So much for unconditional trust—he’d been waiting for this. Fang Xiao hugged the roses, laughing at his childishness yet finding it endearing. He sighed. “It’s yours. All of it.”

Gu Yiming floated out of the car on cloud nine, only realizing after walking a while that Fang Xiao had outmaneuvered him again—this negotiation had yielded no further promises. But for some reason, his heart remained buoyant, filled with candy-colored balloons soaring high and happy.

As he passed through the main gate, he noticed the supermarket outside had reopened. The “Welcome the Spring Festival” banner was still up, and the loudspeaker blared a festive tune:

“Winter has reached its end—what good news. Slowly, the flowers stir, hearing the rooster’s crow. Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations to you. Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations to you.”