WP Chapter 35

“I don’t really know the full details,” Xiao Chen said. “Back when I signed him, he was still young. His personality was much more difficult than it is now. Always giving people headaches. At one point, he told me he was going to start his own business. I even encouraged him, told him to go for it. But then he just vanished. A story he was serializing, one that was doing pretty well ended up abandoned. I couldn’t get in touch with him at all.”

“Some time later… maybe half a year? It’s been so long, I can’t remember exactly. Anyway, after a while, he suddenly reappeared. He apologized to me, said sorry for all the trouble.” Xiao Chen’s voice was tinged with emotion as she recalled it. “I asked him what happened. Was he sick or something? That’s what I thought at the time.”

Si Shaorong’s heart climbed up into his throat. “And then?”

Xiao Chen sighed. “He told me that his relationship with his boyfriend had caused a huge fight with his parents. They were strongly against it. He ended up moving in with his boyfriend. And then, for reasons he didn’t really explain, his parents died in a car accident.”

Si Shaorong was not prepared for any of this. He sat frozen for a long time before he realized his hand was shaking around the phone. He took a few deep breaths and typed, “What do you mean by didn’t explain? He didn’t know, or you didn’t know?”

“I didn’t know,” Xiao Chen replied. “He never told me the full story. That’s all I heard.”

Another message came in from her right after.

“This is just my guess, but I’ve always wondered if maybe his parents were on the way to find him when it happened. Maybe things went wrong on the road after they had that fight.”

Si Shaorong felt something catch in his throat, like a wad of cotton had been stuffed inside. The pressure made it hard to breathe. He could not get a single word out.

It was not impossible. But the weight of that possibility was almost unbearable.

He could not imagine what kind of person Jiang Yibai had been back then. The boy must have been reckless, rebellious, maybe even out of control. But the Jiang Yibai he knew now was different. On the surface, he seemed easygoing and unserious, but underneath he was thoughtful and guarded. He treated others gently. Especially with his students, he was endlessly patient and kind. Even the way he spoke to Chen Yi was for the parents’ sake. He knew how to guide without offending. He always sounded reasonable.

Si Shaorong had no way of knowing how much of that personality had been shaped by the past. But if that boy had once defied his family for love, and his parents had been left panicked and heartbroken, only for something to happen to them while trying to find him, then how was a boy like that supposed to live with the guilt?

He did not even want to imagine it.

Xiao Chen had told him all she knew. After thanking her, Si Shaorong set his phone down.

He sat alone at the desk, unmoving, like a statue carved from stone. Bright sunlight fell over his face, outlining every feature with threads of gold. It was the height of summer, blazing outside. But inside his chest, everything had gone cold.

And if he felt this way, he could not begin to imagine how desolate Jiang Yibai must be inside.

He stared at his open manuscript and suddenly understood why the two characters in his story, despite liking each other, still could not come together.

It was not that the story failed to convince him, nor that the emotional arc had not yet reached that point. It was that the male lead’s character simply did not allow for emotional openness. That was the real inconsistency. Just like how Jiang Yibai would never voluntarily speak the truth, because at the core of that truth was himself.

Once he had accepted that it was his fault, his burden to carry, he could never face the truth again. That meant the knot in his heart would never truly be untied.

Si Shaorong suddenly felt his eyes sting. He lowered his head and rubbed them, then tapped randomly on the keyboard for a moment before slamming the laptop shut in frustration.

He wanted to do something for Jiang Yibai. But he had no idea what to do.

After a moment, a thought struck him. He opened the computer again, suddenly energized. For the first time in years, he logged into his old Weibo account.

He searched for Jiang Yibai’s page, clicked follow, and marked him as a priority follow.

Then he scrolled to a story update Jiang Yibai had posted a few days earlier, and hit repost.

He added a cute smiling emoji.

That single post stirred up a storm. Within minutes, Jiang Yibai’s Weibo was flooded, and so was Si Shaorong’s.

Zhen Zhen was out at a meeting when the junior secretary across from her leaned in with a giggle and said, “Boss, something good just happened with the Great Master?”

Zhen Zhen looked confused. “What good thing?”

“It’s all over Weibo. People are saying the Great Master just came out.” The secretary showed her the phone. “You didn’t know?”

Zhen Zhen felt like disaster had fallen out of the sky. Her ears buzzed and her vision swam. Her first thought was, That troublemaker Jiang Yibai must have stirred up something again.

She grabbed the phone and scanned the screen. Then she froze.

The Great Master’s account had reposted one of Jiang Yibai’s stories. And he had added a smiley emoji. But that emoji, in Zhen Zhen’s eyes, was anything but cute. It was laced with mockery.

She trembled all over. She did not even dare to click the story link to see what it was about. She could not bring herself to look at the comments. She immediately pulled out her own phone and called Si Shaorong.

To his credit, he picked up right away. Judging from the background noise, he was clearly outside somewhere.

Zhen Zhen drew a deep breath and yelled from her diaphragm, “What do you think you’re doing?! Did he brainwash you?!”

Si Shaorong said nothing.

He was, in fact, out grocery shopping.

Over his black tank top, he wore a light casual blazer in a neutral tone, with matching pants cuffed just above the ankle to reveal lean, elegant legs. On his feet were horsebit loafers. The tailored jacket outlined his trim, athletic frame, and the fitted tank hugged his torso just enough to suggest muscle.

He pushed the cart with one hand, phone in the other, head tilted slightly to the side. He looked like a model walking out of a fashion campaign, every move effortlessly striking.

On the other end, Zhen Zhen was still shrieking. “What is wrong with you? Why did you repost that? I thought you hated Weibo! We agreed I would manage your account! What is going on between you two?!”

“I worked so hard to build your public image. And now you go and wreck it with a repost and an emoji? Do you know everyone’s saying you just came out?”

Si Shaorong calmly listened to her string of accusations, his expression unchanging. At the same time, he silently recited the shopping list his boyfriend had given him.

Light soy sauce, salt, white pepper, pasta… and frozen dumplings.

When he reached the frozen section, he paused and took a look inside. He grabbed a tub of matcha ice cream. He remembered that his boyfriend liked matcha flavor.

He had only planned to buy some seasoning and frozen food, but somehow ended up discovering how fun grocery shopping could be.

The soda crackers his boyfriend liked, the beef jerky he enjoyed while watching movies, the chips to share with visiting students, and the yogurt he always gave them to drink.

He bought sugar mandarins and cherry tomatoes. There were not many fruits his boyfriend liked, and Si Shaorong was not big on fruit either. These two were the only ones they both found acceptable.

At checkout, he caught sight of a small display rack near the cashier. His brain misfired, and he reached for a box of ultra-thin condoms. As if trying to cover it up, he grabbed a pack of chewing gum in a similar color and dropped both into the basket.

On the other end of the phone, Zhen Zhen was still shouting hoarsely. “What are you doing? Are you even listening to me?”

“Hmm? I am,” Si Shaorong said casually. “I like Jiang Yibai. I want to pursue him.”

Zhen Zhen went silent for a beat.

It was the first time she had ever truly felt some admiration for Jiang Yibai. She muttered, “What the hell did Jiang Yibai do to you? Is there still a cure?”

“There’s something I’ve been keeping from you. I should probably apologize for that first.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Just stop talking,” Zhen Zhen said wearily.

Si Shaorong was still in line, staring at the balding back of the man in front of him. “I moved into his place for another reason. We agreed to a condition. We’re pretending to date so I can get a sense of what being in a relationship feels like. If there’s anything I don’t understand, I can ask him.”

Zhen Zhen sat there, stunned. “Okay, I get it now. He brainwashed you.”

Si Shaorong laughed. “I’ve never been more sure of what I want. Zhen Zhen, aren’t you happy for me?”

She was silent for a long time. Finally, she said, “Great Master, you absolute idiot.” And then she hung up.

Si Shaorong burst out laughing. Zhen Zhen had been his manager for years and had never once been so angry that she cursed at him. She must have truly lost it this time. He thought about it for a moment, then sent her a red envelope labeled: wedding candy.

Zhen Zhen accepted it and replied, “Don’t expect one back. And if you break up, don’t come crying to me.”

When Si Shaorong returned home loaded with bags, his domestic little boyfriend was still in the kitchen wearing an apron, washing vegetables. He seemed blissfully unaware of the chaos on Weibo. As he wiped his hands on the apron, he asked, “Why did you buy so much?”

“I just felt like it,” Si Shaorong said. “I didn’t think shopping would be this fun.”

Jiang Yibai looked at him, half amused and half exasperated. “Why’s that?”

“I started thinking about where to put everything, how to cook it, and who I’d be eating with,” Si Shaorong said, the tips of his ears slightly red. “It made me feel really content.”

Jiang Yibai stared at him, surprised. “Wow, boyfriend, that’s a pretty solid line. You should put that in your story.”

Si Shaorong said nothing.

He could only watch as Jiang Yibai walked back into the kitchen with a bag in hand. That little romantic confession of his had completely vanished into the air like it never happened. Not a single ripple left behind.

He changed into loungewear and sat down on the couch. On the table, Jiang Yibai’s phone screen lit up with several missed calls. They were from Nian Gao.

Si Shaorong picked up the phone, silenced it, and swiped the missed calls away.

Chen Yi did not return for dinner. Jiang Yibai made egg pancakes with mung bean porridge and three stir-fried side dishes. The meal was simple, colorful, and fragrant.

The scent of the egg pancakes alone could stir up anyone’s appetite. Jiang Yibai reached into his pocket, pulled out the box of condoms Si Shaorong had bought, and leaned over. “What’s this? Grabbed the wrong thing trying to get chewing gum?”

Si Shaorong coughed and said nothing.

Jiang Yibai was tempted. Deeply tempted. But he still did not dare to cross that final line. Kissing and touching both had their boundaries, but once that line was crossed, some things would no longer be so easy to explain.

He got his little tease in, then let it go. He set the box down and started chatting with Si Shaorong as they ate.

Their tastes were actually very different, but somehow they could still talk endlessly across every topic under the sun. More importantly, they had the patience to listen to each other’s rambling. Si Shaorong thought, this was enough. If someone could offer you that kind of patience and understanding, it was already the best proof that a relationship could last.

Life was always going to be made of little things. All those grand declarations and life-or-death dramas were just noise. This quiet routine was what grounded people in reality.

It was not until after dinner that Jiang Yibai noticed what had happened on Weibo.

He was chewing on a piece of beef jerky, sprawled on the sofa, with one foot shoved into Si Shaorong’s lap. He had been teasing the poor man relentlessly. Si Shaorong’s face was flushed red. He kept leaning away, trying to avoid Jiang Yibai’s teasing hands, shifting from one side to the other. Then Jiang Yibai raised his phone and suddenly froze.

“Wait.” Jiang Yibai’s voice dropped as he slowly pulled his foot back. He stared at the post, checking it again and again to make sure that bright gold verification badge really belonged to Si Shaorong. After a long pause, he set the phone down and looked at him intently. “Was that really you?”

Si Shaorong had been prepared. He smiled lightly. “The story was good, so I reposted it. What do you think? Did I help boost your traffic?”

Jiang Yibai felt like the entire world had gone quiet. All he could hear was his own heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Faster and faster, until it crashed in his chest like it was about to burst right out.