He should’ve known better than to go soft-hearted.
But what was done was done. No amount of regret could undo last night, and there was no magical pill to reverse time. All he could do now was stay composed. That was the mantra Chi Zhan repeated to himself until the panic gradually began to subside.
When he stepped out of the bedroom, he found Chu Xingxiao in the kitchen, humming some unrecognizable tune while chopping vegetables, clearly in a great mood.
Chi Zhan crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, watching him with a blank expression.
“All those vows you made last night… fed them to the dogs, did you?”
Chu Xingxiao blinked, wide-eyed and innocent.Â
“That was my cousin’s fault, not mine.”
Somewhere else, at that exact moment, Qi Song turned his head and sneezed.
“Yo, Captain Qi, someone’s cursing you,” Chen Che said lazily, one leg slung over the other as he absentmindedly worked through his assigned tasks. Even during downtime, everyone still had their quota to hit—no finishing, no leaving.
“How much have you done?” Wen An glanced at his screen. “Only three hundred? What the hell have you been doing?”
Chen Che huffed, “I’m working on it, okay? It’s not like Captain Qi’s been doing much either. He’s been glued to his phone this whole time—”
“He already finished,” Wen An cut him off. “He wrapped it up last night. Not everyone’s like you, scrambling at the last second when the deadline hits.”
Chen Che was dumbfounded.Â
“Wait—why the hell would you finish today’s tasks yesterday? Captain Qi, are you secretly grinding behind our backs?”
Qi Song closed his laptop, gave Chen Che a cool glance, but said nothing.
Then Chen Che snapped his fingers in sudden realization.Â
“I get it! You’re trying to find Secretary Chi again, aren’t you? Well? Why haven’t you gone yet? It’s nearly lunchtime!”
“You done with your tasks?”
Yet again, Chen Che got called out and grumbled his way back to pounding at his keyboard. Qi Song glanced at his phone.
Still no reply to the message he’d sent that morning.
Meanwhile, Chi Zhan had just opened his phone and spotted the text Qi Song had sent several hours earlier.
He’d been fast asleep at the time—hadn’t heard a single notification.
“……”
Chi Zhan: Sorry, I went to bed really late. Just saw your message.
His thumb hovered over the sticker panel, out of habit wanting to send something cute. But this time, he hesitated.
Sending cat-head emojis to Song Guang was one thing. Sending them to Seven? Now that he knew the man behind the screen… it felt kind of embarrassing.
Seven: Lunch?
Chi Zhan hesitated. He glanced at the kitchen, wondering—if Seven could take Chu Xingxiao out of here, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
He’d completely run out of ways to deal with Chu Xingxiao. If he got angry, the guy would act all innocent. If he kicked him out, he’d whine and beg. Worse, sometimes he’d go from pouty to clingy to suddenly obedient in seconds—it was exhausting. At this point, Chi Zhan had no choice but to call in Seven for backup.
Chi Zhan: Your cousin’s here too. Mind if he joins?
Seven: Sure.
Seven: Cat-cat wants a kiss.jpg
Chi Zhan: ???
Seven, as always, had zero regard for his public image. Before and after his identity reveal, he was still the same as ever.
Perhaps because Chi Zhan didn’t respond right away, another message came through—clearly a nudge.
Seven: Cat-cat wants a kiss.jpg
Kiss… kiss your face! That’s all you think about all day!
Chi Zhan jabbed at the screen furiously.
Chi Zhan: No kiss for the cat-cat.jpg
No matter how adorable that cat-head looked, the man on the other end had a heart of stone. He still refused to give that damn kiss.
Qi Song’s lips curled into a faint smile as he pocketed his phone. Calm and collected as ever, he said to Wen An, “You guys go ahead without me.”
“Wait, what? Captain Qi, where are you going? Don’t leave me! I haven’t finished my tasks yet and you’re already heading out for lunch?”
Everyone else was long used to Chen Che’s over-the-top antics and ignored him completely, focusing on their own work. He watched in disbelief as Qi Song stood in front of the wardrobe, spent forever picking an outfit, and even fixed his hair a little in the mirror before heading out.
Chen Che’s eyes nearly popped out.Â
“Am I seeing things? Captain Qi just spent ten whole minutes in front of the closet?! And now he’s dressed like he’s going on a date? Don’t tell me… did he find a new boyfriend already?”
“…Or maybe, just maybe, he’s going to see Secretary Chi?”
“But I thought they broke up?” Chen Che was completely lost. “What’s going on? They broke up but it’s like they never did!”
“Why are you so worked up?”
“Because I want to have lunch with Secretary Chi too!”
Wen An’s lips twitched.
Honestly, having a thick skin could be considered a talent. Even under the terrifying glare of Qi Song, Chen Che still had the audacity to openly gush about Secretary Chi. Truly, a man of unmatched nerve.
Back in the kitchen—
“Can you make enough for one more?” Chi Zhan asked casually.
Chu Xingxiao, who had been practically radiating happiness, immediately stiffened. His expression turned wary.Â
“Who else is coming?”
“Your cousin.”
“……” He forced a smile. “Of course.”
He knew perfectly well—he was the one who’d taken advantage of the situation. He was the interloper. But that didn’t mean he was willing to give up.
Growing up, Qi Song had always been the family favorite. The golden child. Straight-A student, competition winner, the pride of every adult. Chu Xingxiao? Even when he did well, his parents would just offer a dismissive “Not bad. Keep learning from your cousin.”
God, how he hated that phrase. “Learn from your cousin.”
But that was just the beginning.
After Qi Song cut ties with the family, no one even mentioned his name anymore. It was like he’d vanished from the household. The next time Chu Xingxiao heard about him was in the news—when he won the national esports championship.
If Qi Song could do it, why couldn’t he?
But what truly broke Chu Xingxiao wasn’t any of that.
It was falling in love for the first time—only to realize the person he liked… was Qi Song’s boyfriend.
Why was he always a step too late?
Why did he always miss the timing?
Even that drunken confession—he knew deep down that Chi Zhan didn’t like him. To Chi Zhan, he was just a younger cousin. A little brother.
Later, he found out they weren’t really dating. That gave him hope again.
But then, outside the tournament venue, he saw them holding hands.
Again.
