Shen Li’s first reaction upon seeing those two lines from Qian Xingzhi was bewilderment.
In the next instant, countless images flashed through his mind.
Back when Qian Xingzhi was still a second-year high school student, he had actually had a previous “offense” involving tarot cards.
Things like that had not been common back then. Apparently, Qian Xingzhi had an older female cousin who was doing a PhD in physics in the United States. When she came home for Lunar New Year, she kept muttering that the end of science was metaphysics, then secretly shoved a deck of tarot cards into Qian Xingzhi’s hands along with a divination guidebook.
At the time, Qian Xingzhi loved doing just about anything except studying.
After getting his hands on the cards, he was afraid his parents would discover them, so the first thing he did was take them back to the school dormitory.
Today he would divine whether the cafeteria was serving braised pork; tomorrow, whether PE class would be commandeered by the math teacher; the day after that, whether he could scrape a passing grade on the monthly exam…
Everything under heaven could be divined. He would even draw a card to predict what color high heels the English teacher would wear.
And so, relying on his surprisingly high accuracy rate, the Qian Xingzhi of those days had become something of a commanding presence among his pack of disreputable friends—extremely cheerful and outgoing.
Until…
“—Shen Li.”
“Mm?”
“The tarot cards say you like me.”
Shen Li looked at him expressionlessly and gave a cold laugh. “Oh? What else do they say?”
Qian Xingzhi’s eyes were dazzlingly bright. His fluffy head abruptly leaned close, his tall nose clumsily bumping Shen Li’s ear. The normally sunny teenager was so nervous his voice had tightened, yet he still leaned beside the other boy’s ear and said, one word at a time:
“They also say that one year from now, you’ll definitely be dating me.”
Shen Li finally closed his eyes for a second. “Did the tarot cards also tell you that you’re about to get beaten up?”
Qian Xingzhi: ?
…
Even now, twenty years later, Qian Xingzhi probably still did not know who had snitched. All he knew was that their homeroom teacher had stormed into the dormitory in a rage, pulled a deck of tarot cards out of his pillowcase, and had his parents summoned to school the very next day.
Later, that deck of tarot cards was mercilessly taken away by their homeroom teacher and used to prop up the wobbly leg of a table in the school’s Political and Ideological Studies office.
The dignified explanation was: “When illuminated by the light of practice, the faint firefly-glow of idealism can scarcely compare with even a single brick or tile before the gates of materialism.”
After that, Qian Xingzhi spent an entire semester copying definitions of materialism:
1. Matter determines consciousness;
2. The origin of the world is material;
3. In terms of epistemological validity, idealist systems struggle to construct an explanatory framework comparable to materialist methodology. We must remain strictly vigilant against the infiltration of Western idealist occult practices!
To everyone’s great satisfaction, Shen Li at least never saw him touch any of those Western divination practices again.
…And now look at this.
He had simply switched systems.
Someone as pragmatic as Shen Li, accustomed to fitting every single thread of evidence into a physical chain of proof, had never liked seeing people around him get involved with things whose truth and falsehood could not be distinguished.
For example, several years earlier there had been a case that left an especially deep impression on Shen Li. It had been reported as a homicide but turned out to be a suicide. The victim’s parents had originally believed their daughter, who had recently suffered a breakup, had died in a crime of passion. Yet after extensive investigation, the young body curled in the center of an occult array had indeed offered itself up to so-called “love.” Her parents, who came to identify the body, were left weeping outside the autopsy room as though their backs would break beneath their grief.
Pain for those who loved her, satisfaction for those who hated her.
It had been heartbreaking.
And so Shen Li’s expression darkened as he stared fixedly at those two lines on the screen. His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time without falling. He really was becoming more worried about Qian Xingzhi’s mental state.
Those psychological illnesses Qian Xingzhi had suffered from before…
Had they actually gotten better, or not?
Shen Li had originally wanted to wait for a more appropriate opportunity. But now, it seemed…
He needed to have a thorough conversation with Qian Xingzhi as soon as possible.
With the camera filming right now, however…
This was obviously not a suitable time.
Some private medical matters and sensitive topics were not appropriate for discussion through the cabin’s chat interface, much less in public where the audience could hear them. Some things should still be said to Qian Xingzhi face-to-face.
…
After thinking for a long while, Shen Li checked with him.
[Shen Li]: [Have you been studying metaphysics again all these years?]
[Qian Xingzhi]: [More or less. In our circle, when people don’t have work, quite a few of us will cast a few divinations]
[Shen Li]: [.]
[Qian Xingzhi]: [What’s wrong]
[Shen Li]: [Change your profile picture first]
Ten seconds later.
Qian Xingzhi’s pitch-black, utterly dark profile picture changed into the same big dog as his WeChat avatar.
Shen Li relaxed slightly and sent him another message:
[Shen Li]: [Stay in the same room with me tonight. I have something I want to ask you]
Three seconds.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
Shen Li was almost starting to think Qian Xingzhi did not want to. He was just about to say that if he had already found someone else, then forget it, when Qian Xingzhi replied:
[Qian Xingzhi]: [Okay [head tilt]]
In front of the screen, Qian Xingzhi really did tilt his head. His long fingers scraped lightly across the screen. No matter how he calculated it, he had never expected something this good to fall into his lap.
He was almost finished with the accounts in his hands, with only about ten percent left, but he truly had no patience to keep going.
So Qian Xingzhi casually closed the ledger, glanced at the IV bag that was about ninety percent finished, and secretly reached out to speed up the drip. Just as he was about to withdraw his hand—
Two light knocks sounded against the still-open vehicle door.
Assistant Xu’s high heels clicked closer. She stepped up from outside the medical van and stopped beyond the camera’s range.
Looking at the unsmiling Qian Xingzhi, Assistant Xu felt an almost laughable sense of contradiction. She had worked for her boss for seven and a half years. She still knew what kind of person he was.
“…Ahem, Boss?” Assistant Xu phrased it tactfully. “The production team asked me to remind you that the messages and chats you leave in the System may be accessed later. If you send anything, there’s a possibility it could be edited into the bonus footage.”
Assistant Xu’s wording was artful. What she was really reminding Qian Xingzhi was to pay attention to his personal privacy.
Who would have thought Qian Xingzhi would merely cut her a cold glance and turn his head away indifferently, exposing a section of his beautifully defined neck? His Adam’s apple rolled slightly before he said with absolute decisiveness:
“Don’t air it. It might count as inappropriate information. I don’t want a higher authority inviting me in for tea.”
What Qian Xingzhi meant was “feudal superstition,” but modern netizens naturally classified all content they were forbidden from seeing as…
Pornography.
[These two bros are wild. Are they getting horny and doing dirty talk in broad daylight?]
[In my impression, Shen Li is a very beautiful, upright, quiet, cool-type beauty [leopard cat crying]]
[And in my impression, Qian Xingzhi is still an ice-cold mountain with zero sex drive, okay?!]
[AAAAAH so what the hell did they send each other? Not being able to see it is making me itch [system crash]]
[Once my loan gets approved, I’m buying the production team]
[Never mind, I’m not looking. I’m afraid they’ll use my phone as a condom]
[But I heard Qian Xingzhi only lasts three minutes. What could he even do? Probably just all talk]
[That smear is ancient history, hahaha. Back then those vicious sex rumors seemed to have all been pushed by WCC’s side. Malicious competition is seriously shameful!]
[You face-cons are way too naïve, aren’t you? Flies don’t land on uncracked eggs. Seriously, handsome men usually aren’t very good in bed]
[Guessed the commenter upstairs’s gender in 0 seconds, and guessed how ugly they are in 0 seconds too]
[Fuck, I’m seriously done. Yang Zhiqi’s ugly face suddenly popped up on Screen 7 and scared the hell out of me. Oh my god, that was more terrifying than a horror movie]
[Why were you looking at Screen 7 in the first place? Serves you right!]
[Because Shen-kitty was repairing the fence and then suddenly disappeared QAQ I’m frantically checking every screen trying to find him QAQ]
[Wow, Shen-kitty playing hide-and-seek. So cute. Let me take a hit of pretty Xiao Li]
[Instead of searching all over, just follow Qian-dog’s camera. He’s finished his IV!!!]
—
When Shen Li rose from his crouch, nearly his entire right leg hurt so badly it had gone somewhat numb. Only after a difficult round of adjustment did he barely manage to stand steadily, exhaling softly.
He needed a long while longer to recover.
Shen Li tidied up the weeds he had pulled, stuffed them all into a large black plastic bag, and shoved the bag into the backpack he had brought. He planned to throw the bag of grass away later when he passed the barren mountain. He had also more or less dealt with the traces on the ground.
So after Shen Li cleaned up the scene and sorted out his emotions, he was just about to zip up the “grass bag” when the nearby gate in the fence gave a creak. Rapid footsteps came toward him, growing heavier and heavier.
Shen Li reacted quickly, kicking the “suspicious package” toward a less noticeable spot on the ground. He bent over to fiddle with the half-finished fence and, at the same time, gradually moved back into the camera’s range, presenting the very image of a seasoned adult who remained calm in the face of everything.
Thus, even when Qian Xingzhi called his name, Shen Li only answered and continued working with his hands without looking at him.
But in the very next second!
Shen Li suddenly felt his body grow light!
Someone’s shoulder came around him from behind as an arm abruptly tightened—
Half supporting, half embracing him, using a shoulder to lift him slightly from behind so that his right leg no longer needed to bear weight.
Shen Li’s entire body instantly went rigid! He instinctively turned his head to look at Qian Xingzhi—
Qian Xingzhi’s thin lips were tightly pressed together and his brows deeply furrowed. His exceptionally handsome face was very close, his somewhat dark gaze assessing Shen Li’s right leg. After a long moment, his low, hoarse voice—roughened by his cold—said:
“I’ll do it. Rest for a while.”
Shen Li’s brows drew together sharply. Qian Xingzhi’s chest had suddenly pressed much too close, and an overwhelming force seized him in an instant, practically lifting him off the ground as Qian Xingzhi half carried, half embraced him toward a battered chair.
Shen Li’s vision nearly went black. A trace of distress immediately rose over his pale face—the position of being held from behind was far too familiar and far too humiliating, making Shen Li instinctively resist like a startled cat.
Under the camera, however, Shen Li feared losing control even more and had no desire to break into an argument. He endured it, pressing his lips into a straight line, his jaw tightening as he gripped Qian Xingzhi’s arm hard.
Fortunately, in the next second Qian Xingzhi set him down steadily beside the chair.
Shen Li’s chest rose and fell violently. He turned his face aside, avoiding Qian Xingzhi’s attempt to meet his eyes, and sat down in the chair with a deathly pale face. Even his cold expression was beautiful.
Ten minutes later.
[Fuck fuck fuck, AAAAAAH what are those two doing? I’m going insane]
[Qian Xingzhi seems a little too domineering, hahaha. Xiao Li’s temper isn’t as good as I imagined either. He got picked up without permission and now he’s sitting there sulking! So cute so cute—so this is another way to ship two icebergs?!]
Seeing that Qian Xingzhi was actually fairly handy and had soon completed more than half of the remaining work without needing any instruction or help, Shen Li slowly rose from the chair. His throat finally moved, and he spoke toward Qian Xingzhi’s busy back:
“I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Qian Xingzhi stood up too and clapped the dirt from his hands twice. He swept a cold, exacting glance over the section of fence he had repaired. It really did look different from Shen Li’s work. Then he turned and quickly followed after Shen Li.
“…What are you doing?”
“I’m going too.”
In just a few strides, Qian Xingzhi walked ahead of Shen Li.
Shen Li glanced back at the cameraman, who had not followed them, then lifted his eyes to the familiar line of Qian Xingzhi’s back.
The words he had been unable to say beneath the camera finally had an appropriate opportunity to emerge.
“…Xingzhi.”
Shen Li softly spoke Qian Xingzhi’s name.
Qian Xingzhi’s body abruptly froze, his entire back tensing reflexively.
He stopped walking and moved half a step closer to Shen Li.
“Does your leg hurt?”
But in the next moment, Shen Li’s calm gaze traced an arc and fell on the grass beside them.
“It doesn’t.”
“Then—”
“—Don’t suddenly hug me under the camera anymore.” There was a trace of chill in Shen Li’s lowered eyes. His gaze was dark, and he made himself clearer, though his voice became gentler. “I know you were worried that it was difficult for me to move around, but I don’t really like it.”
Qian Xingzhi’s Adam’s apple rolled once.
Shen Li calmly added the second half as well. “…But that doesn’t mean I dislike you.”