WP 26

“This recent stretch has been amazing,” the editor said gleefully from the other end of the call. “I swear, once this story goes live, readers won’t believe it’s from you. You’ve improved so much.”

Si Shaorong still wasn’t satisfied. “I think the details could be refined further. Once they move past the ambiguous stage and officially get together, the emotions should be even more intense. What do you think about adding a misunderstanding to accelerate their connection?”

“That might be too sweet,” the editor laughed. “Have you been in love lately?”

“…Yeah,” Si Shaorong admitted with a mix of embarrassment and joy. He was practically bubbling with the urge to share it with someone. “Was it that obvious?”

“Way too obvious,” the editor replied. “So who is it? Can you tell me?”

“It’s not the right time yet,” Si Shaorong said, remembering the editor was a huge fangirl for Jiang Yibai. He found it amusing. “I’ll tell you when the time’s right. He’s kind of half in the industry.”

“He’s an author too?” the editor gasped. “I thought…”

Halfway through the sentence, she stopped herself with a cough and quickly brushed it off. “I mean, I’m just surprised you’re both authors.”

Si Shaorong didn’t mind at all and laughed. “You were about to say you didn’t think anyone in the circle would want to date me, weren’t you? I’m not an idiot. I know what people think.”

The editor laughed awkwardly. “No way. You’ve got a career, money, and you’re a decent person. You’re both authors so you understand each other’s habits. You have so much to talk about. It’s great.”

“You don’t need to sugarcoat it. I know everything already,” Si Shaorong said. “But don’t worry. I’m not upset.”

The editor was nervous at first, but hearing the relaxed tone in his voice, she let out a breath of relief. “I really didn’t mean anything bad. You’re a good person, truly.”

“It’s rare enough to even meet the right person,” Si Shaorong said. He had gained a lot of insight lately and for once found someone he could open up to, so the words came easily. “It’s fate, really. I never felt anything for anyone all these years. Maybe this is what destiny feels like. When someone truly suits you, you don’t want to wait another second.”

The editor felt like she’d just been force-fed a mouthful of sugar and was nearly overwhelmed. “No wonder the main couple in your story has been so sweet lately. You’ve been using yourself as a reference.”

Si Shaorong chuckled.

The editor had worked with him for years and knew he was always serious, cautious, and never showy. He could be a little rigid, even. So it was rare to hear him open up like this, talking about his feelings and even laughing. As sugary as it all was, she couldn’t help feeling happy for him.

“Hope you two get married soon,” she said, playing along.

Si Shaorong laughed more sincerely and they chatted for a bit longer before ending the call.

Zhen Zhen had also heard from Si Shaorong recently. She had been swamped with film rights work and hadn’t had the time to talk with him properly. Today she finally cleared her schedule to visit. At that time, Jiang Yibai was teaching his students. The piano notes inside the room echoed like soft bells. With orchids and monstera plants by the windowsill, it felt like a scene of vibrant calm, fresh and green, a world apart from the hot weather outside.

The new glass fish tank sat on the coffee table. Two goldfish inside darted around, startled by Zhen Zhen’s arrival, swishing their broad tails. Si Shaorong came out with a plate of sliced fruit and placed it in front of Jiang Yibai, then carried another plate into the guest room. When he saw Zhen Zhen staring wide-eyed, he pressed a finger to his lips and motioned for her to come inside quietly.

She glanced one more time at Jiang Yibai teaching, then tiptoed in and shut the door.

“You actually cut fruit for him?” she hissed.

Si Shaorong pulled out a chair for her, then sat on the edge of the bed and placed the plate of fruit on the nightstand.

“It’s not like I don’t know how,” he said, completely puzzled.

Zhen Zhen waved her hand. “Are you actually serious about him?”

Si Shaorong frowned. “There’s been a bit of a misunderstanding between us.”

Zhen Zhen raised an eyebrow. “What kind of misunderstanding?”

Si Shaorong explained the whole thing about using the relationship for material. “How am I supposed to tell him I wasn’t just using him… well, I was using him, but now I actually mean it.”

Zhen Zhen felt a headache coming on. This was exactly why people said when a man who had been single for decades finally fell in love, he turned into a complete idiot.

“Hold on,” Zhen Zhen raised her palm like a stop sign. “What makes you so sure you actually mean it?”

Si Shaorong looked momentarily thrown. “You think I don’t know my own feelings?”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Zhen Zhen shook her head and crossed her arms, sitting back like a queen as she lifted her chin. “This is Jiang Yibai we’re talking about. His relationship history is way more complicated than yours. You get caught up in a few sweet words and suddenly think you’re in love? It could be a total illusion. You’ve never been this close to anyone before, so it’s normal to be confused.”

Si Shaorong found that hard to believe. “How could I possibly not know?”

“He showed interest in you from the start, and he’s your fan. He idolizes you,” Zhen Zhen analyzed. “Because he was your fan, you let your guard down early on. You were willing to talk to him more. Then with the roommate arrangement, you naturally started trusting him. It’s totally normal to trust someone you live with. From there, he slowly closed the distance and brought up the whole ‘material for my book’ idea. You wanted to write, you were curious about relationships, and you already trusted him. Of course you fell for it.”

Zhen Zhen frowned. “He planned this out step by step. You fell right into his trap.”

Si Shaorong said nothing, his brows furrowed.

“Have you ever asked him how he really feels?” Zhen Zhen said gently. “Love isn’t just about being happy together and sticking close. Ten years ago, if you two were still students, I wouldn’t say this. I wouldn’t be the bad guy here. But you’re not kids anymore. You’re both adults with careers. As your assistant, and as your friend, I have to say the hard stuff, even if you don’t want to hear it.”

“You’ve never dated a man before. You can’t even connect with women,” Zhen Zhen added. “He’s your fan, so of course he knows what you like. There are interviews and profiles about you all over the internet. All he had to do was pay a little attention and he’d know your likes and dislikes. If someone really wants to win you over, there are plenty of ways to do it. But how long can he keep that up?”

Si Shaorong opened his mouth, but with no romantic experience to speak of, he had no way to refute her.

He sat there frowning, clearly unconvinced. Zhen Zhen pretended not to notice and went on. “He approached you under the pretense of collecting material. You said yourself, he told you that you could pull out any time. If he really cared about you, would he say that? If the roles were reversed, and you liked him, really liked him, would you be willing to let the power to end things rest in his hands? If he said stop, would you stop? Could you?”

Zhen Zhen sighed. “The fact that he could say that shows he had already prepared an escape route. To put it bluntly, maybe he just wanted to have a little fun. You said you were using him for material, so he used that to get something out of it. You’re both men, who’s really at a disadvantage here? Hard to say. And even if he wasn’t playing around, it’s clear he never planned to stick around for good.”

That struck a nerve.

Si Shaorong had considered it too. He just hadn’t wanted to say it out loud.

There were some questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask Jiang Yibai. He would rather stay blind and deaf, so long as he didn’t call things off, they could keep going. But once it was out in the open, there might not be a future left to salvage.

Zhen Zhen said, “I knew it was a bad idea for you to move in. It hasn’t even been that long and you’re already in a mess.”

“He’s not that kind of person,” Si Shaorong murmured, waving a hand.

Zhen Zhen gave him a helpless look but didn’t press. Even as a friend and an assistant, even when the truth hurt, there were only so many times she could poke at someone’s wounds.

First love always made people fragile.

She felt a pang of sympathy. People always said Si Shaorong was hard to deal with. He has a bad temper, difficult to please, not the romantic type. He never remembered holidays or birthdays. You’d be lucky to get a gift, let alone any sentimental gestures.

But he was solid. He was the kind of person you could build a life with. Steady, responsible, the sort who, once he cared, would never run. Compared to someone like Jiang Yibai, who had a reputation for being flirty and fickle, at least Si Shaorong’s love would be real.

So Zhen Zhen held her tongue. After all, who wanted to hear this kind of thing when they were happily in love? Even if it was a trap, a setup, they were both willing, both complicit. If that was the case, what was the point of exposing it?

She sighed inwardly, feeling like an annoying old nag. She shook her head and changed the subject. “Whatever you decide later, you need to keep this private. Don’t mention it to anyone else.”

Si Shaorong barely nodded, his attention clearly elsewhere.

They ended up talking in the room for a long time. Eventually, Jiang Yibai finished his lesson and came to knock on the door. “Zhen-jie, want to grab dinner tonight?”

Zhen Zhen opened the door and stepped out. She gave Jiang Yibai a long, assessing look, then said flatly, “No, I have things to do.”

She grabbed her bag and headed for the door. Jiang Yibai leaned over to glance into the bedroom and saw Si Shaorong sitting with his head down, looking a little dejected. He quickly turned and caught up with Zhen Zhen, walking her to the door. “Did something happen? He seems upset.”

Zhen Zhen gave him a long, meaningful look. “You’re worried about him?”

“Huh? Well, of course I am.” Jiang Yibai looked puzzled for a second.

Zhen Zhen thought for a moment. Some things, in the end, weren’t hers to say. “It’s nothing serious. Just a few small issues I can handle. You just focus on cheering him up.”

Jiang Yibai assumed it was something to do with copyright matters, which were out of his depth, so he simply nodded and walked her downstairs.

By the time he returned, Si Shaorong was already on the couch watching a movie. He had pulled the curtains closed and curled up under a throw, his expression unreadable and heavy.

Jiang Yibai brought out a pot of fruit tea he had brewed, grabbed some snacks from the cabinet, then tossed off his slippers and climbed into the couch. He wormed his way into Si Shaorong’s arms without a care.

“Tired, Your Grace?” Jiang Yibai grinned. “May I offer a shoulder massage to soothe your noble fatigue?”

Si Shaorong didn’t say anything but reached out and held his hand, eyes still fixed on the screen.

“Your Grace,” Jiang Yibai went along with the act, wrapping an arm around him while kneading his shoulders and back, “is this pressure to your liking?”

“Mm,” Si Shaorong murmured.

Jiang Yibai hummed a tune while working on his shoulders and casually chatted about funny moments from class. After a while, Si Shaorong asked, “What was with those people at the bar that night?”

Jiang Yibai let out a soft scoff. “Old drama from when the band broke up. We haven’t seen each other in years. Maybe they’d had a few drinks too many.”

“They were really fans?”

“Sort of? But not mine. Otherwise they wouldn’t have gone after me like that.” Jiang Yibai shrugged. “One of the guys used to date our drummer. Back then he was still in school. Young and hot-tempered.”

Si Shaorong gave a quiet “oh” and said nothing more.

Jiang Yibai continued massaging him, kneading his shoulders and neck. He tilted his head. “Are you stuck?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve got that look on your face, the same one you get when your writing stalls.” Jiang Yibai scrunched up his features in imitation, brows furrowed, lips pulled downward. “Like this.”

With that mop of curls and his exaggerated frown, Jiang Yibai looked downright ridiculous.

Si Shaorong relaxed his brow. “No.”

Jiang Yibai leaned in and kissed him. “You look way better when you smile.”

That kiss warmed Si Shaorong all over, but Zhen Zhen’s words kept echoing in the back of his mind. His mood swung between extremes, like soaking one foot in hot water and the other in ice.

He pulled Jiang Yibai into his arms and held him close. The two of them lay together on the dimly lit couch, their lips meeting in a kiss, slow at first, then growing messier, wetter, until the quiet room was filled with the soft, lingering sounds of their mouths pressed together.

Si Shaorong couldn’t help himself. His hands started roaming. Jiang Yibai let him, relaxing into his touch and even grinding up into him.

Si Shaorong pulled back a little. Jiang Yibai’s eyes were red-rimmed, his lips swollen from the kissing, and he licked his tongue over them with a smile.

That quick flick of pink was all it took to push him over the edge. Si Shaorong’s mind went blank with heat as he flipped Jiang Yibai down into the cushions beneath him.