A summer midnight was filled with too many cicadas, their cries passing through leaves and skimming across the pond.
Shen Li stepped away from the cottage almost soundlessly.
As soon as he passed through the cottage gate, he switched on his phone flashlight and followed the System map.
The filming location was far out in the middle of nowhere. At night, getting medicine delivered started at ninety yuan. It was far more economical to borrow some from the cottage medicine box.
Yet Shen Li had barely taken two steps before he already began to regret it.
If Qian Xingzhi genuinely wanted medicine, was it really possible for him to go an entire afternoon and evening without getting any?
If he were truly sick and wanted treatment, he could have had an IV drip in his arm by now. So calling in the middle of the night and making himself sound so hoarse and pitiful did indeed carry some suspicion of pretending to be sick to win sympathy.
Unfortunately—
Shen Li had no conclusive evidence.
So beneath the deep night sky, Shen Li’s shadow stretched long in the moonlight.
After walking for a little over ten minutes, he finally arrived beneath the building at the address Qian Xingzhi had given him.
Shen Li looked up at the three second-floor rooms that still had their lights on, then at the stars overhead. He stood there for half a minute before heading upstairs.
He quickly identified the number of the first room and began walking toward the lit room at the far end of one side.
Qian Xingzhi’s room should be the one at the end: 219.
The low-rise building had once been staff housing. It was old and worn, and wherever the wall coating had peeled away, gray cement showed underneath.
In the corridor, dim lights flickered on and off. Several old-fashioned bulbs hung from the walls, casting weak yellow light. The stair railings were already mottled with rust, as if they too were telling the merciless story of time.
Shen Li remembered clearly that the first place he and Qian Xingzhi had rented together had looked much like this.
It had been cramped and shabby, with terrible soundproofing. Back then, whenever the two of them did anything in the room, Shen Li had always worried that the neighbors could hear everything clearly.
But that period…
Had genuinely been happy.
It could even rank number one among the happiest periods of his life.
Even if it had been brief—barely more than two months.
Later, they had gone to different universities. Shen Li’s school required students to live in the dormitories, so he could only get away once every two weeks.
Gradually, Qian Xingzhi had also been forced to return to his own dormitory. They used the rented room so rarely, and it still had to be cleaned and maintained. It was not even as convenient as simply booking a hotel.
So in the end, they rented it for only half a year before deciding to give it up.
Bzz, bzz, bzz—
With only a few steps left to go, Qian Xingzhi called him on WeChat.
Perhaps he thought Shen Li had taken too long to answer. The chat window also contained a chilly little bonus:
[?]
Shen Li paused and moved his finger toward Decline.
Just then, he heard the lock of a door he had just passed click very softly behind him.
The door opened a crack, remained there for two or three seconds in the strangely silent air, then slammed shut with a bang.
It was not a quiet sound.
Shen Li frowned.
His perpetually sharp instincts compelled him to turn around. He retraced the few steps and stopped in front of Room 208, which had just opened and closed, staring coldly at the black peephole for more than ten seconds.
The door in front of him remained perfectly still. Whoever was inside clearly had no intention of coming out.
Shen Li thought for a moment and decided the most likely explanation was that a staff member inside was getting ready for bed and had gone to secure the door from within.
So Shen Li turned again and continued toward Qian Xingzhi’s room at the very end.
At that moment, the phone in his hand began buzzing anxiously again.
Shen Li sighed helplessly.
He answered.
Before Qian Xingzhi could get out so much as a “hello,” Shen Li raised the phone to his ear and said softly,
“Open the door.”
The other end went noticeably silent. Even the air seemed to congeal.
The dutiful second hand on the clock seemed to stop for two stolen seconds. Then the door to Room 219 suddenly creaked and was yanked open from the inside.
The door swung back on its momentum, but just before the handle struck the wall, the person who had opened it caught and pulled it back.
Warm white light poured out like a tide, washing over Shen Li’s aloof, beautiful face.
Shen Li’s lean, tall silhouette was immediately cast across the opposite door.
“You…”
Before Shen Li could finish—
A large hand seized his wrist and abruptly pulled him inside.
“Weren’t you ordering delivery?”
Qian Xingzhi’s palm was burning hot, genuinely like someone with a fever.
Apparently, he was not acting.
Shen Li pulled his wrist from Qian Xingzhi’s hand, frowning deeply. “…Why is your hand so hot?”
He had barely asked—
When Qian Xingzhi’s scorching palm caught Shen Li’s long, cool hand again and dragged it straight toward his own head.
His fingers brushed aside the slightly long, fluffy hair and pressed Shen Li’s hand to his smooth forehead.
Then, carrying the fresh mint scent of toothpaste, he brazenly declared, “My head’s even hotter. Want to try?”
As though he were showing off something.
Baffled, Shen Li found his palm forcibly planted against Qian Xingzhi’s forehead. His brows instantly drew even tighter.
“…How about going to the hospital?”
Qian Xingzhi was more than half a head taller than Shen Li and considerably broader, yet at that moment he was absurdly compliant. He lowered his head and let Shen Li’s cool, slender hand touch his forehead for several seconds. Then, with perfect restraint, he released Shen Li, tilted his head, and voluntarily stepped back.
His hoarse voice sounded completely unconcerned as he glanced down at the medicine in Shen Li’s hand. “No. I’ll be fine after taking some medicine. Give it to me. Let me see what you brought.”
Shen Li said nothing else and handed over several boxes.
One was for wind-cold symptoms, one for wind-heat symptoms, and one was a fever reducer.
Shen Li could never keep straight which medicine should be taken when, but Qian Xingzhi was good at matching medicine to symptoms. Whenever Shen Li fell ill, Qian Xingzhi could always choose the right one immediately. Shen Li had no idea why this man had suddenly decided to tough it out today.
“You walked here?”
“Mm.”
“…How long?”
“Less than twenty minutes.”
“Does your leg hurt?”
“No.”
Qian Xingzhi took the medicine out of the bag, then glanced at Shen Li, who had been keeping most of his weight on one leg ever since entering the room. He gave a cold laugh.
“Liar.”
Shen Li was momentarily blocked by that response and did not know what to say. In the end, he still said it.
“Didn’t you want me to come?”
Qian Xingzhi seemed to smile. In his hoarse voice, he said,
“Then if I want you to kiss me, will you?”
Shen Li froze and looked at him.
Qian Xingzhi immediately straightened and amended himself.
“—I’m joking.”
Shen Li could not be bothered saying anything after that. He silently looked around the room instead.
After a long while, he cleared his throat and, in what he believed was a very natural change of subject, asked, “Why is this room so run-down?”
Qian Xingzhi answered without much concern. “Mm. I found it temporarily yesterday. They offered to move me today, but I refused. Voting closes today anyway, and according to the rules, I can move into the cottage tomorrow morning.”
Before Shen Li could respond, Qian Xingzhi took a fever-reducing tablet, then pulled a sachet of powdered medicine from another box. His deft, powerful fingers tore the packet open one-handed.
He did not look for hot water to dissolve it. He simply tipped his head back and poured the powder straight into his mouth.
Shen Li had been perfectly calm, but some inexplicable spark of anger whooshed to life and shot straight to his head at the sight.
In any case, Shen Li’s normally mild, cool voice immediately rose several degrees in volume.
“—What is wrong with you? Who takes medicine like that?”
Qian Xingzhi paid no attention. He swallowed the entire packet of powder dry, then raised the half-empty bottle of mineral water and washed it down with cold water.
“Me. Haven’t I always taken it like this? —Did you forget? Back in school, it meant I could wash one less cup.”
Shen Li had not forgotten.
But Qian Xingzhi’s method of taking medicine had once made Shen Li seriously wonder whether Qian Xingzhi was asking to be scolded, or asking to be scolded.
Qian Xingzhi, however, seemed not merely unashamed but proud of it. When Shen Li fell silent, he continued explaining with absolutely no awareness of danger. “But now it’s because I don’t have hot water, not because I’m avoiding washing a cup.”
As soon as he finished, Shen Li closed his eyes.
He took a deep breath and decided even coming here to deliver medicine had been unnecessary.
“Do whatever you want. Once you’ve taken the medicine, go to sleep early.”
Shen Li clearly had no intention of “staying for a while.” He cast Qian Xingzhi a cool glance and prepared to leave immediately.
He had just begun to turn—
When a sudden burst of violent, rapid coughing erupted behind him—Qian Xingzhi’s rather distinctive method of saying goodbye.
“Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough, cough—!”
It was too severe.
Shen Li turned back in shock.
Qian Xingzhi’s entire face had flushed red. His features were twisted painfully together, his two striking brows like warped blades, a deep furrow carved between them.
His deep-set eyes were narrowed too, revealing an indescribable degree of discomfort.
As though he were desperately enduring pain almost beyond what he could bear.
“Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough—”
Shen Li: …
With no other choice, Shen Li crossed the room in a few quick strides. Qian Xingzhi was coughing so hard he had bent over, both hands clutching his chest. His fingers were slightly white from the force, knuckles protruding as though he were desperately trying to suppress the coughing.
There truly was no flaw in the performance.
He genuinely seemed miserable.
Inevitably, Shen Li sighed, reached out on his own initiative, and rubbed Qian Xingzhi’s back.
“…I told you not to take it that way.”
Qian Xingzhi straightened. His cheeks were red, but his tone was indifferent. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”
His face was pale as paper, tiny beads of sweat covering his forehead. He looked weak and helpless, and from beginning to end, he no longer met Shen Li’s eyes.
“…Go to sleep first. I’ll leave after you fall asleep.”
Shen Li stood there for a long time before finally squeezing out those words.
The moment he finished, Qian Xingzhi abruptly braced a hand against the table and stood straight. For reasons unknown, he still did not look at Shen Li. He only gave a cold laugh, walked to the sofa, and sat down.
His entire long frame sprawled shamelessly across the old sofa. “I’ve had insomnia lately. If you’re waiting for me to fall asleep, it’ll probably be three in the morning.”
Shen Li: …
So?
“Leave tomorrow morning. You take the bed. I’ll take the sofa.”
Shen Li’s eyes darkened. He stared fixedly at Qian Xingzhi, who had already lain down on the sofa and even closed his eyes.
Like a detective scrutinizing a criminal.
…
Shen Li could, in fact, have simply turned around and left. Instead, expressionless, he walked over.
“—You sleep on the bed. This sofa is too short. I’ll take it.”
Qian Xingzhi kept his eyes closed, thick lashes casting a faint shadow beneath them.
His thin lips were lightly pressed together, his breathing even and slow, as though he were so exhausted that he had instantly fallen into deep sleep.
…Was this what insomnia looked like?
Without saying a word, Shen Li watched him coldly, studying every microexpression and tiny movement. Yet Qian Xingzhi truly showed no eye movement at all. He appeared genuinely asleep—or rather, his sleep was entirely flawless.
A faintly mocking look crossed Shen Li’s face.
No wonder they handed him Best Actor awards.
Shen Li was too tired to drag him up and continue arguing.
Shen Li was not an idiot. More than that, he was skilled at inferring a person’s motives from their actions.
Forget it.
Shen Li walked to the single bed, which was only 1.2 meters wide, picked up the thin blanket, and somewhat carelessly draped it over Qian Xingzhi. No longer interested in figuring out whether the man was really asleep, he glanced at his own phone, which was still connected to the call, then at Qian Xingzhi’s phone, its screen also lit because it was recording. He placed both phones together on the table and, exhausted, went to the bed.
Too much had happened that day. A man who had been running nonstop for more than twenty hours did not need to count sheep. The instant his head touched the pillow, his consciousness genuinely began to blur…
So… had he actually wronged Qian Xingzhi…?
Five minutes later.
A thin blanket was gently laid over Shen Li’s curled-up body.
Moonlight filtered through the half-drawn gauze curtain outside the window, casting a patch of silver-white light across the floor.
Against the moonlight, Shen Li’s skin looked exceptionally pale—
Like a piece of cool jade giving off a faint sheen, so pure and beautiful it seemed almost soul-stealing.
Qian Xingzhi’s gaze was dark and obscure as he stared fixedly at the sleeping Shen Li.
For a very, very long time. Even without closing his eyes, Qian Xingzhi could still recall every detail of their first time seventeen years ago, in a similarly shabby rental room.
Shen Li had cried beautifully.
So beautifully that through more than six thousand sunrises and moonsets, Qian Xingzhi could still remember every detail of that moonlit night.
His fingers stretched toward Shen Li as though wanting to touch him, then curled back. In the end, they only gripped the curtain, making the cheap fabric sway gently.
Casting a soft, wavering shadow—
One that swayed all the way from moonset to sunrise.
…
Shen Li slept without dreaming all night.
When he woke, it was already past 9:15 in the morning. It took him about half a minute to realize that he seemed to have had his best sleep in three days. He had not woken once and had slept nearly eight hours straight.
…Where was Qian Xingzhi?
Shen Li looked around.
The tiny room could be taken in at a glance. There was no trace of another person, only an insulated food container, a tea egg, and several steamed buns newly placed on the table.
Shen Li rubbed his aching temples and instinctively reached for his phone. The call with Qian Xingzhi, which had stayed connected through the night, had ended at 7:06 a.m. The phone had automatically locked. When he opened it, there were dozens of unread messages.
Ten from current colleagues.
Twenty from former colleagues.
More than thirty forwarded by Geng Qiuqiu.
…
Two from Qian Xingzhi.
Shen Li’s fingertip hesitated for two seconds before opening Qian Xingzhi’s messages first.
[I’m going to handle the fan situation first.]
[Breakfast is on the table. Remember to eat when you wake up.]
Shen Li stared blankly for more than three seconds, slowly closed Qian Xingzhi’s messages, then stared at the ceiling for a while. Even so, he could not easily shake the peculiar post-coital feeling those two messages had created.
In the end, information from his former colleagues completely seized his attention—
Shen Li’s gaze sharpened. He rapidly dealt with every message, hurriedly stuffed a few bites of bun into his mouth, called Lin Jie, and rushed out.
He gave Room 208, the room from last night, an extra glance. Its door was still firmly closed.
Shen Li did not investigate further. At 9:30, he returned to the cottage.
Before he even entered the cottage fence, he spotted Qian Xingzhi’s female assistant pulling two enormous suitcases belonging to Qian Xingzhi. She seemed to be trying to get them up the steps and into the cottage, but the cases were so large that she appeared unable to manage them alone.
Shen Li quickened his pace and went over to help.
“Hello.” Shen Li greeted her. “Are these Qian Xingzhi’s?”
The assistant turned around. Bright-eyed and attractive, she gave Shen Li a very professional smile. “Hello, Mr. Shen. My surname is Xu. I’m Boss Qian’s assistant. Boss asked me to bring his luggage over.”
Shen Li glanced at the two huge suitcases and thought, Qian Xingzhi really was something else, making a young woman bring all this by herself.
“I’ll do it. Give them to me.”
Shen Li reached for them, but Assistant Xu hurriedly pulled the cases back. “There’s no need. Boss paid me extra.”
.
“It’s fine. Even if I carry them, he won’t dare refuse to pay you.”
Shen Li lifted one suitcase in each hand with ease and was just about to climb the few steps—
—!
A video camera suddenly flew out from inside the cottage like a spinning soccer ball!
Accompanied by Jiang Nan’s furious roar:
“Fuck all your mothers! All of you can die!”