Some distance away, Yu Shiqing couldn’t hear clearly: “What?”
“Nothing.” Ren Bai’s eye twitched twice as he placed his suitcase aside, changed shoes, and walked in. But upon seeing the new furniture and Jiang Yu he couldn’t hold it in.
“Yu Shiqing, what’s going on here?”
He wanted to ask why Jiang Yu was still here, why they wore matching pajamas, even matching slippers?
But before he could ask, Yu said calmly: “Jiang Yu will be staying here for now. He made some changes.”
Ren stammered: “Changes?”
He looked around. This didn’t look like minor changes it was a full renovation! And what about— “Jiang Yu lives here? But there’s only one bedroom?”
Yu answered: “I sleep in the study.”
Jiang Yu added: “We bought a new bed for the study.”
Ren asked: “Where do I sleep?”
Yu paused, then said: “In your own room.”
Ren lived nearby often too lazy to go home and stayed here but he hadn’t thought much of it. Now, after only a few days at home, everything seemed changed. Did he even have a place here anymore?
Yu said: “After Doomsday Rescue’s post-production needed more funds, Jiang Yu sold his house. He’ll stay here for now.”
Ren gasped: “Jiang Yu sold his house? That’s all in well, I get it he needed a place.”
Yu continued: “Jiang Yu has a concert soon. He gave you a ticket.”
Ren grinned: “A concert! I’ve never been to one!”
But first things first they needed to return to Xinshi Film and hand over work. Right after New Year, both Yu and Jiang Yu got busy. They rarely saw each other outside evenings.
On concert day, Yu woke early as usual, heading to the bathroom. He heard noises from the next bedroom living so close, their biological rhythms synced. Seeing toothbrushes side-by-side still felt strange. Unlike Ren, Jiang Yu’s presence had permeated every corner. His things were everywhere, matching the intensity he carried.
“Morning.” Jiang Yu’s hoarse voice came from behind, taking Yu’s brush.
“I’m leaving this afternoon. Don’t be late.”
Yu nodded in the mirror: “Okay.”
Satisfied, Jiang Yu turned to go but suddenly leaned in to sniff beside Yu’s shoulder.
His expression curious: “Did you go out just now?”
Yu answered: “No.”
Jiang Yu frowned: “Then why do you smell a scent?”
It was like ice and snow cold, yet strangely fragrant. He leaned closer but paused when Yu nearly brushed his nose.
Yu asked softly: “What are you doing?”
Jiang Yu realized they were too close. He straightened himself, stepped back half a pace, and in a low voice said:
“Your illness is just healed. Don’t play with your body. Are you sure you didn’t go out?”
Yu nodded firmly: “Absolutely.”
Jiang Yu relaxed: “Good.” Then left for the kitchen. Yu watched him hurry away.
Jiang Yu stayed in the bedroom until afternoon probably finalizing plans sometimes speaking on the phone. Then he left before dinner.
Moments later, Ren walked in only he and Jiang Yu had spare keys. Seeing both at the table, Ren said: “Any leftovers? I didn’t eat.”
But he noticed Jiang Yu hadn’t touched his meal, and asked with concern: “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Jiang Yu checked his watch and stood: “You two eat. I’m going to the venue.”
Ren watched him leave. Then to Yu: “Jiang Yu must’ve performed many times still too nervous to eat?”
Yu smiled: “Maybe.” He glanced at Jiang Yu’s untouched bowl.
Ren asked: “Did you tell him?”
“Told him what?”
Ren clarified: “Your new cycle you know seasonally sensitive. Isn’t it due now?”
Yu shook his head: “No.”
Ren breathed out: “You’re not in heat yet?”
Yu replied: “I took the suppressant last night.”
Ren half-panicked: “Suppressants equal normal. But two alphas living together, be careful! One scent can trigger aggression alpha territory instincts are real.”
As a beta, Ren couldn’t smell alpha or omega pheromones, but knew that hormonal conflicts among alphas can explode especially during sensitive periods when their territorial behavior peaks. Even father and son alphas must live separately once grown. If not careful, they could fight.
Yu’s hand paused mid-sip. He thought of that morning Jiang Yu asked about a scent on him. Could that be pheromones? But such scent would trigger conflict, not curiosity. And Jiang Yu had no reaction of anger or disgust. Probably unrelated to pheromones.
Ren urged: “You should tell him soon, give him a heads‑up.”
Yu, exchanging glances, simply answered: “Okay.” He continued his meal.
After dinner, Ren confirmed precise filming dates with the crew. Then the alarm went off. He grabbed Yu, who had a script open, and they drove to the concert.
Because Yu was now a big star, Ren gave him a disguise before entering just in case, in a crowded place. But inside it was so hot, and their seats were near the stage they removed the disguises quickly. It shocked Ren, but no one noticed them except one.
Jiang Yu kept glancing toward Yu in the crowd.
Ren leaned in: “I think Jiang Yu saw you on the screen!”
Yu wasn’t surprised. Jiang Yu gave him the ticket and knew their seat. He watched the performance, not Yu.
Onstage, Jiang Yu was in the spotlight a magnetic voice, each lyric like a story. Every move stirred the audience. Powerful vocals and dance. Yu stood among countless fans and understood why they adored Jiang Yu.
Yu noticed how onstage Jiang Yu rarely smiled his expression was cool, almost distant. Only when looking in a certain direction did his lips lift in a faint smile. Fans loved that nonchalant glance his confident dominance and gleaming sharpness radiated from within.
Ren cheered, nearly shouting: “Jiang Yu is so handsome! Yu Shiqing, look he’s unbelievably handsome!” He shook Yu to look.
Ren continued: “Can you get me two more tickets? I want more!”
Yu glanced at the clock: “Still an hour left.”
Ren moaned: “You don’t get it! I already miss the last hour!”
They joined the fans’ roar as Jiang Yu changed outfits. Soon, a new soulful love song started to play. Fans erupted. Yu recognized it as an unreleased track. The cheering grew louder.
The stage filled with fog. Jiang Yu appeared seated at a grand piano. The simple piano accompaniment, his black instrument and white suit contrast striking.
Everyone raised their phones to capture the moment. Jiang Yu bowed his head. Onscreen, his focused profile appeared. Then he turned to the audience and locked eyes with Yu in the front row.
Jiang Yu smiled Yu returned it. Jiang Yu, meeting his gaze, said into the mic:
“How about it fall asleep?”
Yu gave a thumbs-up, smiling.
Jiang Yu couldn’t fully suppress his grin: “You’re easy to read.”
The performance resumed. But the crowd was stunned.
Onscreen, their faces, split-screen, lit up both equally attractive. When Jiang Yu smiled, the stadium went wild.
Interaction between Jiang Yu and a friend in the audience had happened before, but this was different. What just happened?!
