WP 12

Jiang Yibai sprawled lazily on the sofa, his long legs stretched out straight. Smiling, he looked at Si Shaorong. “Ge, you’ve never been in a relationship before, have you?”

Si Shaorong let out a soft sound of surprise, tilting his head slightly to look at him.

The lazy sofa sat much lower, so Jiang Yibai had to tilt his head back as well. Across the coffee table, the two of them looked at each other from a distance. Jiang Yibai licked his lips and said, “Liking someone doesn’t need any special reason. You like them, and suddenly everything about them is a strength, every part of them becomes a reason.”

Si Shaorong frowned slightly, looking like he didn’t quite agree.

Jiang Yibai was secretly thrilled, and a little moved too. The Great Master was unexpectedly pure.

He was itching now, couldn’t stop himself from wanting to tease him.

He sat up a little and leaned forward. “Sometimes even a sexual impulse can be a reason to feel attracted. Ge, have you ever had a sexual impulse toward anyone? You must have back in puberty, right?”

Si Shaorong went quiet. He actually took a moment to think it over, then slowly shook his head. “No.”

Jiang Yibai’s eyes widened. Something started to feel off in his gut. “No? Didn’t you have any cute girls in your class? Or a beautiful teacher or something?”

The tips of Si Shaorong’s ears turned red. He looked like he thought Jiang Yibai had just said something blasphemous. “Why would I ever… toward a teacher… cough.”

Jiang Yibai clicked his tongue. “Then it doesn’t even matter who it was. Back then, my friend…”

He caught himself just in time. No way he could talk about his own experiences—what was he going to say, that he used to get hard watching sweaty shirtless guys play soccer during PE? Si Shaorong would probably look at him like he was some kind of pervert.

So he made a sharp pivot. “My friend used to get hard just from seeing a girl’s legs under her skirt.”

Si Shaorong: “…”

Jiang Yibai realized a beat too late that maybe this example wasn’t any better than the shirtless soccer one.

Si Shaorong looked away. His throat bobbed slightly, and a tendon stood out taut on his neck. “I’ve never had that kind of experience.”

Jiang Yibai lowered his voice, cautiously testing the waters. “What about with guys?”

Si Shaorong: “?”

Jiang Yibai gave an awkward laugh and shrugged. “You’ve never, like… gone to the hospital to get it checked?”

Si Shaorong: “…”

The conversation had gone completely off track. Si Shaorong wasn’t even sure how they’d derailed so badly from a proper discussion about writing to this. They weren’t even that close. Talking about something like this felt weird, no matter how you looked at it.

He stood up, trying his best to stay composed. “I… I’m going back to my room.”

Jiang Yibai cursed himself for being a dumbass and quickly got up to fix it. “Great Master, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just running my mouth. I’m sorry.”

Si Shaorong waved it off. “I know. It’s fine.”

He walked to the guest room door in a few quick steps. Just as he opened it, he paused and said, “You don’t have to call me Great Master. I’m just a regular person.”

Jiang Yibai froze for a second, then grinned. “Got it, ge.”

After the door closed, Jiang Yibai stood there smiling stupidly at it for a long while.

Si Shaorong’s personality didn’t match his appearance at all. Jiang Yibai finally understood. He wasn’t cold, just shy. He wasn’t aloof, just slow to warm up. His personality was overly serious, always dissecting things in detail, patient to a fault but prone to overthinking. He cared what others thought, which was probably why…

Jiang Yibai thought back to all the filth and chaos that used to flood the comments under Si Shaorong’s old Weibo posts. Even now, he still hadn’t resumed managing his own page. He never checked what others said about him either. And it finally hit Jiang Yibai: no one is completely immune to harsh words. Some people just don’t show the pain.

Even Jiang Yibai himself liked to pretend he didn’t care. But deep down, of course he cared.

He just understood that some things weren’t worth forcing. Mouths belonged to other people. Instead of wasting time trying to win arguments, better to use that time on something that actually mattered.

He figured maybe Si Shaorong thought the same way. That’s why he always seemed so meticulous and driven.

And now Jiang Yibai felt even more regretful. Why the hell did he have to open his big mouth just to mess around? The guy had honestly wanted to talk about writing, and he had dragged it somewhere completely unrelated.

Jiang Yibai wandered the room with his hands behind his back, circling twice before deciding to make it up to him. He went straight to his bedroom and started digging through his collection of manga.

“If he’s okay with danmei,” Jiang Yibai thought, “then this stuff should be fine too. I’ll start him off with the simple ones.”

He carried out a full set of his own favorites, walked over to Si Shaorong’s door, and knocked.

“What’s this?” Si Shaorong looked a little dazed as Jiang Yibai shoved a pile of manga into his hands.

“This is one of my favorite manga series. I really like this author too.” The cover looked dated, printed in traditional Chinese with Japanese notes alongside. On the back, the publication date read 1997. Jiang Yibai explained, “You wanted to know how attraction can be written naturally and with depth. I think this series is a perfect reference.”

Si Shaorong raised an eyebrow slightly and took the stack from him. It was heavier than he’d expected.

“You can’t buy it anymore,” Jiang Yibai warned. “So be careful when you read it.”

“Oh… alright.” Si Shaorong still looked a little surprised. He hadn’t expected Jiang Yibai to actually go out of his way to find reference material for him, even if it was manga. Was that short one a girl or something? Kind of cute.

Twenty minutes later, Si Shaorong sat in his room looking completely bewildered.

Both protagonists were guys. But it didn’t quite read like the danmei stories he’d seen before. Then again, it was also hard to claim that there was nothing going on between them.

He gradually realized this might be one of those borderline, slow-burn, ambiguous romance stories. As he kept reading, he found that the author’s emotional portrayals were surprisingly nuanced. There were plenty of side plots that could be expanded, and the characters’ backgrounds and conflicts were all quite compelling.

When he finally closed the book, a flood of new ideas came to him. He ended up rewriting his previous background setting, still keeping the fantasy adventure theme, but now the female lead had a special ability. She could hear other people’s thoughts, but for some reason, she couldn’t hear the male lead’s.

After adding suspense and mystery elements, the overall tone of the story shifted slightly. Si Shaorong had always preferred writing gentle, understanding heroines, but this time, the female lead was straightforward and clever, with an especially beautiful pair of striking eyes.

When he started writing about her eyes, Si Shaorong paused. Somehow, they were ending up too much like Jiang Yibai’s.

He stopped typing and suddenly felt a bit uneasy. After hesitating for a long while, he went back and revised the eye description, almost like he was afraid someone might notice something.

After lunch, Zhen Zhen called to say she had arrived. The building numbers in the old neighborhood were notoriously hard to read, so Si Shaorong told Jiang Yibai he was heading down to get her. When he led her into the courtyard, Zhen Zhen was still scanning her surroundings.

“There’s not even a security camera here. Is this place safe?” she asked frowned. She was already tall, and with her heels on, she was nearly eye level with Si Shaorong. The light-colored, strappy dress she wore elongated the lines of her legs even more. Her long black hair flowed down her back like silk, ending in a soft curl that fanned out beautifully at the ends.

“No idea,” Si Shaorong replied, hands in his pockets as he walked beside her. To outsiders, he probably looked like one of those cool, aloof types. His nose was high, his eyelids thin, and his thick brows had a natural lift. His brow ridge was prominent, giving his eyes a striking depth. His features were more defined than average, with strong bone structure and striking contours that gave him a sharp, commanding look.

He didn’t care much about appearances. He had come out still wearing pajamas, a simple lounge pants and a loose-sleeved top, along with a pair of flip-flops. But nothing about him looked sloppy.

His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, the pants cuffed at the ankles, revealing slim ankles and a casual vibe that looked like something out of a candid street style photo.

“He’s very hospitable. Rent’s a little high, but he’s a great cook, and I don’t have to clean anything,” Si Shaorong said as he led Zhen Zhen up the stairwell. The sunlight was quickly cut off once they entered the building, and a cool draft passed through the dim first-floor hallway.

“He even helped me find some reference material.”

Zhen Zhen looked skeptical. “You sure he’s not just trying to get into your pants?”

Si Shaorong sounded helpless. “Just because someone likes men doesn’t mean they’re into every man. That logic doesn’t hold up.”

Zhen Zhen: “…”

Zhen Zhen was well aware that the Great Master was slow and completely clueless when it came to relationships. There was a reason he had stayed single for so many years.

So she tried probing from another angle. “I heard he’s not a full-time writer?”

“No. His actual job is teaching.”

“Teaching?” Zhen Zhen was stunned. She couldn’t quite connect the chaotic, blacklisted Jiang Luanyu with the image of a noble profession like teaching. “What does he… teach?”

“Music,” Si Shaorong said. “He plays beautifully. Piano, guitar, bass, violin… he even knows a little harmonica. And he sings really well too.”

He had only heard a few hummed notes that morning, but the mellow, magnetic tone of it still lingered in his ears.

Zhen Zhen gave a vague “oh” and glanced sideways at Si Shaorong. “You… seem pretty impressed with him.”

Si Shaorong wasn’t someone who easily evaluated others. He didn’t like being judged himself, and he didn’t like judging other people either. Even when it came to He Jia, the roommate he’d lived with for two years, all he had ever said was, “He’s a good guy.” But when it came to Jiang Yibai, he found himself saying much more than that.

Wasn’t he the one who had just started introducing Jiang Yibai on his own?

“Impressed?” Si Shaorong seemed caught off guard. He paused for a second before replying, “He’s not some product or service. What’s there to be impressed by? I just think he’s…”

Zhen Zhen was ready for the usual line. Oh, here it comes. He’s a good guy.

But what came out of Si Shaorong’s mouth, crisp and clear, was: “He’s really cute.”

He thought of Jiang Yibai that morning, standing in the kitchen with an apron on, making breakfast. For just a moment, his expression softened.

Zhen Zhen genuinely started to wonder if her eyes were playing tricks on her. “What?”

The old building was shaded from sunlight, and the stairwell was even darker.

Zhen Zhen felt a chill run down her spine. Completely unguarded, she turned into a human echo.

“Really cute?”

Si Shaorong didn’t see anything wrong with it at all. He nodded. “Yeah.”

He was so completely serious about it that Zhen Zhen started wondering if she was the one with the dirty mind.

“…You think a man is cute?” she asked.

Si Shaorong thought she was questioning his word choice, so he answered solemnly, “What’s wrong with that word? Even in The Seven Heroes and Five Gallants, that’s how they described Zhan Zhao.”

He actually quoted it aloud on the spot. “Lord Bao saw that the man looked to be in his early twenties, with an impressive bearing, and was quite… adorable.” He gave particular emphasis to the last word.

Zhen Zhen raised a hand and made a stop gesture. “Alright. You win.”