The Male Lead Has Set His Sights on Me 217

[Not all men fall for the fake innocent act. That guy’s just cold—not clueless.]

[Who was that man sitting next to Seven just now? My heart skipped a beat. He’s exactly my type… That elegant secretary vibe! Is he a new romance target added to the game?]

[Same question. If he’s a player, can someone drop his contact info?]

[I just found true love in this game, someone save me! I’m logging in now to pretend to run into him—what’s the name of that shop?]

Ning Shu was about to explode. Not only had his attempt to charm failed, he’d been utterly upstaged by that man just now. Face like stone, he shut down the livestream without a word.

Chi Zhan had never seen this side of Seven before—sharp-tongued and sarcastic. It was oddly fascinating.

So he wasn’t just taciturn. He knew how to throw a punch when he wanted to.

And yet, Seven had never once spoken harshly to him. Even when Chi Zhan ended things unilaterally, all Seven had said was, “Was being with me really that miserable?”

As Chi Zhan mulled it over, Seven set another small bowl in front of him. It was filled with tender, boneless fish—exactly the pieces Chi Zhan had just deboned earlier.

If Ning Shu had seen this, he might’ve dropped dead on the spot, heart attack courtesy of sheer jealousy.

Chi Zhan’s feelings were complicated. The more he witnessed Seven’s indifference toward others, the more he realized—Seven was already being incredibly, incredibly gentle with him…

Chen Che watched the whole thing with dead eyes. His emotional HP had dropped into the negatives.

The only small comfort was that even though Captain Qi was a blatant double standard machine, his bias was reserved exclusively for Secretary Chi. To everyone else, he was cold and ruthless—like autumn winds sweeping fallen leaves. At least Chen Che wasn’t suffering alone.

Chi Zhan barely had to lift a finger. Qi Song kept scooping food into his bowl—fish, vegetables, even soup, all meticulously prepared. Eventually, Chi Zhan had to fight him for it just to return the favor, dutifully serving soup and picking vegetables in return. Qi Song didn’t refuse a single bite, eating everything Chi Zhan offered him.

The hot pot dinner dragged on for nearly three hours. Everyone was stuffed to the brim. Chen Che staggered out, clutching the wall, barely alive.

“I never… want to eat hot pot again…”

Qi Song turned to Wen An.

“You guys go on ahead.”

Wen An nodded. While Chi Zhan was on the phone, he lowered his voice and asked, “You heading back to the hotel tonight? Want me to book you your own room?”

Qi Song paused for a few seconds.

“No need. I’ve still got things to settle.”

He looked up, gaze distant as it landed on Chi Zhan, eyes dimming slightly.

“There are some… accounts I still need to settle with someone.”

Chi Zhan was on the phone with Chu Xingxiao.

Where the hell had that guy gone? Even if his flight was delayed, he should’ve arrived within three hours. Yet his phone had been off the entire time.

Later, he called Chu Xingxiao’s new agent and learned the flight had indeed been delayed, but Chu had landed three hours ago. No signs of anything going wrong.

No one knew where he’d run off to.

Chi Zhan shut his phone and looked around. WT’s crew had already left. A waiter was wiping down the tables. Only Qi Song remained.

Chi Zhan blinked.

“You… not heading back?”

“You don’t have anything you want to say to me?” Qi Song looked at him quietly, something in his gaze making Chi Zhan’s chest tighten with unease.

He felt off-balance. He’d thought this was just a simple meal. But now… it clearly wasn’t that simple.

By late afternoon, the hot pot restaurant had grown crowded. Every table was taken. The two of them stepped outside.

Chi Zhan’s head was a mess. What exactly did Seven want to ask him?

He couldn’t read Seven at all.

If it were a direct confrontation, maybe he could’ve handled it. But when Seven left everything unsaid, when he silently threw the burden of explanation back at him—Chi Zhan suddenly didn’t know what to say.

Qi Song seemed to sense his confusion and kindly offered a hint.

“For example… on stage today. Why did you hug Chen Che, but not me?”

***

Chi Zhan thought he’d misheard.

But Seven was dead serious. He looked at him quietly, as if it genuinely mattered that Chi Zhan hadn’t hugged him on stage.

Why…?

He obviously couldn’t give the real reason. But Chi Zhan never expected Seven to actually be jealous of Chen Che.

The evening had only just descended. After a full day of rain, the air was still thick and overcast. Lights from nearby shops flickered on one by one. Qi Song stood on the stone steps, tall and poised, warm lamplight brushing across his profile, softening even the hue of his eyes.

Chi Zhan hesitated, then tried to speak in a relaxed tone.

“How about now, then? Can I hug you now?”

Qi Song looked away.

“No.”

But he didn’t move a muscle.

Chi Zhan finally realized—Seven was like a cat sometimes. Aloof on the surface, but secretly just as prideful and needy.

The street was busy with people. Chi Zhan didn’t want to force anything in public, so he changed the subject.

“I’m so full… Let’s walk a bit. Might help us digest.”

The hot pot place was located in the heart of A Province’s snack street. At night, the night market came alive. Couples strolled hand-in-hand under the soft glow of streetlights. Even if they weren’t a couple, it was hard not to be affected by the romantic atmosphere.

They reached a dark corner of the street. The light didn’t quite reach here.

“Wait. I think there’s a step here. Let me turn on the flashlight…”

As he reached for his phone, Qi Song caught his wrist.

Those quiet, obsidian eyes fixed on him.

Moonlight shimmered across the tiny tear-shaped mole beneath his eye.

“…Now you can.”

Qi Song spoke softly.

It took Chi Zhan a few seconds to process it. Then he realized—Seven was responding to what he’d asked earlier:

“Can I hug you now?”

“No.”

“…Now you can.”

Chi Zhan’s heart skipped a beat. He blamed it on being starstruck—anyone would be nervous hugging their idol, right?