WP Chapter 37

There were two voices in Si Shaorong’s head. One said, So what? As long as no one says it out loud, things can keep going. What’s wrong with lying to yourself? He’s willing too, isn’t he? The other said, This won’t do either of you any good. It won’t do this relationship any good. Why can’t you be honest? Why can’t you try dating properly? What exactly are you afraid of?

He had struggled with himself, caught between doubt and hesitation. But when he saw Jiang Yibai stumbling through yet another refusal, all of that uncertainty disappeared. His hesitation gave way to a clear, unwavering decision.

There really was nothing to be afraid of. There never had been.

But falling for someone always seemed to carry a kind of fear with it, something difficult to explain and even harder to name. As Si Shaorong waited for Jiang Yibai’s answer, time felt like it was stretching endlessly, each second dragging on with no clear end.

In reality, it was only a few seconds.

Si Shaorong’s heart pounded so hard it shook his chest. His mouth was dry, his hands and feet numb, and sweat had gathered on his forehead.

Then, finally, he heard his boyfriend say it.

“I like you.”

Jiang Yibai’s face flushed bright red, the color surging all the way to the tips of his ears. He looked like he had just given up on dignity entirely. “If I didn’t like you, then what the hell have I been doing all this time? I cook for you, I make tea for you, I do your laundry. I even take care of you in bed. Where else are you going to find a boyfriend as good as me?”

The corners of Si Shaorong’s mouth twitched. He almost smiled outright, but managed to hold it in. He forced himself to keep a straight face. “I like you. You like me. So why not just be a real couple?”

Jiang Yibai closed his eyes and let out a long breath. He slumped into the beanbag chair, legs stretched out, looking like a salted fish that had given up on life. “I already gave you the choice. If you ever want to leave, then leave. Neither of us has to get hurt.”

“You’re already planning your escape before we even start,” Si Shaorong said. “Do people like you really exist?”

Jiang Yibai gave a snort. “Well, now you’ve met one.”

He had always acted like a charming, half-slick bastard in front of Si Shaorong. He was the serious type when teaching, but the moment they were alone, he was always teasing, always playing around. But now he finally showed a different side. Rough around the edges, stubborn, and unreasonably guarded. Yet to Si Shaorong, it felt like a discovery. It felt more real. Even a little endearing.

Love really was in the eye of the beholder. No wonder one person hit and the other kept coming back for more.

“There’s no turning back once you fire the arrow,” Jiang Yibai said. He was staring up at a random spot on the ceiling, sounding tired. “Some things, the moment they happen, make you wish you’d never started in the first place.”

Si Shaorong wanted to ask. He wanted to know if that had something to do with his past. Had someone broken his heart that badly? Was the accident with his parents really connected to him somehow? But he held back. It was not the time yet.

Jiang Yibai still saw things that way. If that was the case, then making promises now would be meaningless. For once, Si Shaorong was the one who figured out how to read the moment. He took a step back and said, “It was just a trial before, and it’s a trial now. The only thing we’re changing is the terms.”

Jiang Yibai glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

Si Shaorong spoke with absolute seriousness. “Let’s try dating for three months. No, make it six. What do you say?”

Jiang Yibai hesitated.

Si Shaorong said, “So you’re allowed to set conditions, and I’m not? You can still be my advisor like before. If there’s something I don’t understand, I’ll still ask you. Nothing has to change.”

Jiang Yibai had a vague feeling that it was not quite the same. But the way Si Shaorong said it, with such certainty, made it hard to argue. It was as if his brain had been fogged up with something sweet and sticky, and for a moment he thought it actually sounded pretty good.

“You said it. Half a year,” Jiang Yibai said, narrowing his eyes at him.

The breath that had been stuck in Si Shaorong’s throat finally loosened. A smile spread across his face. “Alright.”

Jiang Yibai glanced at him again, then looked down at his own fingers, picking at them in silence. After a long while, he murmured, “Why even go this far?”

“No take-backs once the deal is made.” Si Shaorong stood up and moved to his side. He crouched beside him and called out softly, “Boyfriend?”

It was usually Jiang Yibai who said “boyfriend” or “baby,” always so naturally. Si Shaorong almost never called him anything but his full name.

Now, hearing Si Shaorong say “boyfriend” for the first time, it landed differently. The sound of it made Jiang Yibai’s heart ache and turn soft all at once. He looked at him, and Si Shaorong was smiling as he looked back. Jiang Yibai remembered how this man had reposted his story on Weibo, never offering a single word of explanation, and somehow that memory felt like a brand burned onto his chest. His eyes stung.

“Si Shaorong,” Jiang Yibai said, calling him by his full name, “you’ve been tricked.”

Si Shaorong raised an eyebrow, feigning a troubled look. “So what should I do? I’ve already been tricked. If you’re feeling guilty, why don’t you compensate me a little more?”

Jiang Yibai broke into laughter. He flipped moods faster than turning a page, completely forgetting how close they had come to a full-blown argument.

But the matter did not end there.

That same night, Zhen Zhen arrived from a business dinner still reeking of alcohol. She wore a tight red skirt that made her look even more stunning and seductive, her wine-flushed cheeks carrying an effortless allure. The kind of powder she wore was high-end, like the kind a noblewoman would choose, turning her into a war goddess in full armor. The later it got, the more radiant she looked. It was just a shame that the two men in front of her had absolutely no appreciation for any of it. Their eyes had gone blind, and they had clearly cast some kind of spell on each other. Both of them had lost their minds.

Zhen Zhen kicked off her stilettos the moment she stepped inside and rubbed at her sore feet. “I already explained everything to the brand partners. I told them it was just a simple shoutout for a friend. The fans misunderstood.”

Jiang Yibai nodded in agreement. “I’ll have my ge post a quick clarification first, and then I’ll follow up with one. That should clear things up.”

Zhen Zhen pointed a perfectly manicured red nail at him. “We agreed you wouldn’t tell anyone the two of you were living together. What the hell happened?”

Jiang Yibai looked pitiful. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

“You didn’t say it out loud, but you wrote it down.” Zhen Zhen was practically shaking with anger. She had read a few chapters of that story, and it came dangerously close to spelling out Si Shaorong’s name.

“Fine, so you wrote it. But did you have to add all that extra stuff?” Zhen Zhen looked like she was about to cry blood. “Even if you’d kept it clean and sweet, the idea of living together could still sell. The setup is good, the characters are appealing. But no, you just had to make it R18. Do you even know what this looks like? It reads like a fanfiction about a celebrity crush. The most cringeworthy kind!”

She had been drinking and was already furious, so her words came out sharper than usual. Jiang Yibai shrank behind his boyfriend, tugging at his shirt like a kid hiding behind a parent. What kind of assistant did you find me here?

Si Shaorong immediately stepped in. “It’s not cringeworthy.”

Zhen Zhen froze. It was like someone had hit pause. After a long moment, she said, “Wait… that stuff in the story, you two didn’t actually do all of that, did you?”

The content of that story was far from mild.

Zhen Zhen could not help glancing at the Male God’s waist and hips. Was he really the one on the bottom?

Si Shaorong’s face turned red instantly. He stammered, “No, no, absolutely not.”

But Zhen Zhen misunderstood. Her expression shifted into something strange. Was it really true? Had they actually done it?

Jiang Yibai nearly burst from holding in his laughter. He ducked behind his boyfriend, burying his face against his back, his shoulders trembling from the effort.

Si Shaorong could only shake his head in exasperation. “Really, we didn’t. Don’t misunderstand.”

Only then did Zhen Zhen notice the ultrathin box of condoms sitting on the couch. Her face turned a riot of color, as if someone had spilled an entire paint shop over it. Not even her high-end foundation could cover the shade.

She sat down with a tired sigh. “Great Master, what are you doing this for? No one actually cares whether or not you’re dating. They only care about the gossip. But what about the image you’ve spent all these years building? You’re known for being low-key and serious.”

Jiang Yibai stopped laughing. His face, still hidden behind Si Shaorong’s back, scrunched into a knot.

As if sensing it, Si Shaorong reached behind him and patted Jiang Yibai awkwardly. His voice was steady and firm. “I’m not a celebrity. Like I’ve always said, the work should speak for itself. My personal life doesn’t need anyone’s approval or validation.”

Zhen Zhen pressed on. “Then why make it public? The two of you—”

She gestured toward Jiang Yibai. She was still upset, still felt like her carefully cultivated cabbage had been stolen by a reckless pig. But when the cabbage was so fiercely protective of the pig, what could she do?

She sighed. “As long as you’re happy. But if it’s personal, why let the public see it?”

Si Shaorong replied with total clarity. “Because I want to pursue him. That’s all. Of course I can keep things quiet. But don’t I have the right to choose how I want to love someone?”

Jiang Yibai slowly peeked out from behind him, stunned.

Was this really the same clueless Male God he knew? How could he say something like that?

In the end, under heavy pressure from both Jiang Yibai and Zhen Zhen, Si Shaorong reluctantly agreed not to escalate the matter any further.

Following the rule that saying too much only makes you look guilty, and keeping it short was the safer route, Si Shaorong, under Zhen Zhen’s watchful eye, deleted the long-winded praise he had originally written about Jiang Yibai. He left only one line: “A very interesting story.”

To make it seem less like the two of them had coordinated, Jiang Yibai waited a full two hours before posting a short clarification and apology, all under Zhen Zhen’s supervision.

The whole situation had been driven mostly by netizens getting carried away. Since Si Shaorong and Jiang Yibai had never been publicly associated before, the buzz died down quickly. The fans had seen enough drama to satisfy their curiosity, and soon scattered in all directions.

Zhen Zhen gave one last round of heartfelt advice before leaving, trying to persuade her Male God not to take such high risks again. Your life is your own, she had said, but that doesn’t mean it needs to be put on display for everyone to see.

Si Shaorong was not entirely satisfied with that. After she left, he turned to Jiang Yibai and said, “When other people propose or chase after a girlfriend, they go out of their way to let everyone know. They light candles outside dorm buildings, get down on one knee in the park, send flowers with drones, even film the whole thing. So why is it not allowed when it’s me? I’m not some celebrity.”

Jiang Yibai thought this little outburst of his was so unbearably cute that he could hardly stand it. He leaned over and gave him a soft hug. “If you’re happy, that’s enough. But there’s always someone out there who wants to ruin that. No need to give them the chance.”

Si Shaorong thought about it for a while and reluctantly accepted the reasoning. He had done something bold, something the old him would never have dared to do. But oddly enough, he had never felt so free.

He pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. “The reason I followed and reposted your story was just to tell you that I like every version of you. I accept all of it. No matter how you are, I think you’re wonderful.”

Jiang Yibai was stunned. He leaned back slightly and stared at him. “You…”

Si Shaorong blinked. “What?”

Jiang Yibai suddenly had a realization. “You’re not bad at talking at all. And it’s not that you don’t know how to date.”

Si Shaorong looked even more confused. “What?”

Jiang Yibai did not explain. He just burst out laughing in triumph, then leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

Someone like Si Shaorong, once he let someone into his heart, could say all kinds of romantic nonsense without hesitation. Because he was direct and honest by nature. Whatever came to mind, he said it. That was true for harsh words, and it was just as true for the sweet ones.

Jiang Yibai pushed him down onto the couch, reached under his sleep shirt, and thought to himself, God help me, this kind of boyfriend is just too much to handle.

They were fully entangled, their kisses growing hotter and more intense, when a sound suddenly came from the direction of the living room door.

Jiang Yibai sobered up in an instant.

He had completely forgotten that a certain little firecracker was still temporarily staying in the house.