“You two had breakfast together?”
When Chi Zhan didn’t show up that morning, Zhou Yanxing had assumed he’d overslept or gotten caught up with something. He was about to call, but since the morning meeting was about to start, he couldn’t exactly make a personal call in front of the executives. It wasn’t until Chi Zhan returned to his desk that Zhou finally let out a small sigh of relief.
But never in a million years did he imagine the reason for Chi Zhan’s tardiness was—
Having breakfast with the neighbor? With that idol Chu Xingxiao?
Just how delicious was that damn breakfast to make Secretary Chi forget he had work?
Compared to Zhou Yanxing, Cen Chi seemed far more composed.
“The patient takes priority. In that case, I’ll go check on him first,” he said with a smile, turning to Chi Zhan. “Chu Xingxiao… what floor is he on?”
“……”
Did he just say something he shouldn’t have?
***
Chu Xingxiao didn’t seem any different today. Same blank expression, one hand shoved in his pocket, casually finding a quiet spot to sit down—cold and aloof, like a drawn sword. Most of the trainees were young and liked to band together, but no one dared joke around with him or even make light conversation.
The industry had its fair share of eccentric types, but few wore a “Don’t fucking bother me” sign on their face as blatantly as Chu Xingxiao did.
But the thing was—he was popular.
From the moment he debuted, he exploded onto the scene as a “musical genius,” equally adept at soaring high notes and deep, sultry tones. He played multiple instruments, wrote his own lyrics, and brought explosive rhythm and vibrance to the stage with each performance. Within mere months, his fanbase had grown so large it left everyone else in the dust.
In fact, if you added up the followers of everyone present, they still wouldn’t amount to a fraction of Chu Xingxiao’s.
Plenty of trainees gossiped about him behind his back, dripping with envy as they muttered things like “He’s too arrogant,” “Must have serious connections,” or “If I were him, I’d be famous too.” Yet if they could so much as be friends with Chu Xingxiao, they’d be bragging about it nonstop.
Ever since he started attending classes, Chu Xingxiao had treated the place like a hotel—arriving just to sleep, and vanishing the second class ended. Today’s session was on “ambiguous romantic tension,” and while everyone else was laser-focused, Chu Xingxiao was fast asleep, blatantly tuning the instructor out.
“Alright, that wraps up the main points for today,” the instructor closed his notes and looked out over the class. “Now pair up. You’ll have thirty minutes to rehearse before I call some of you up to perform.”
Pairing up—
A wave of excitement lit up the trainees’ eyes. One by one, they all stole glances at Chu Xingxiao.
But none of them had the guts to actually approach him. They just thought about it.
That is, until one trainee confidently stood up.
“Susu, are you going to ask Chu Xingxiao?” someone nearby gasped.
Susu was the company’s newest trainee, and stunning to look at—flawless from every angle. His skin was so fair that even the lightest foundation shade looked dull on him. With his large, watery peach blossom eyes and delicate, dancer’s frame, he was the very definition of “soft and easy to topple.”
Naturally, he’d become the darling of the studio the moment he joined—
Well, everyone except Chu Xingxiao.
Despite being around for days, Chu Xingxiao acted like Susu didn’t even exist, never sparing him so much as a glance.
No—he had to be asleep all the time, that’s why he hadn’t seen Susu’s face clearly!
Wearing a bright, confident smile, Susu replied, “Yeah.”
He stood up and walked over to Chu Xingxiao.
With his eyes closed, Chu Xingxiao’s lashes looked impossibly long. A small mole beneath the corner of his eye peeked through faintly. He had a cold, handsome look—exactly Susu’s type.
Though half his face was buried in a scarf, a faint flush tinged his skin. He seemed uncomfortably warm, a slight crease forming between his brows.
“Chu Xingxiao,” Susu said softly, cheeks flushed. “Wanna pair up with me?”
Chu Xingxiao didn’t move a muscle.
“Can you even breathe in that scarf?” Susu reached up, intending to unwrap it. Then Chu Xingxiao would open his eyes, see him, and be completely floored by his beauty.
But the moment his fingers brushed the edge of the scarf, a sharp pain shot through his wrist.
Somehow, Chu Xingxiao had opened his eyes, now glinting with glacial cold.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Susu was a player.
Since entering the world, he hadn’t begun any romance paths. Instead, he spent every day lurking on the player forums, keeping up with the latest gossip.
There, he saw players railing against domineering CEO Zhou Yanxing, calling him a workaholic with zero romantic instinct—treating his dog better than people. Some players even got locked in the game’s “black room.” Pass.
Then came the gentle doctor Cen Chi, whom everyone swooned over—until he ghosted them after a single date. Cue tears, heartbreak, and furious rants calling him a player. Another pass.
Susu’s gaze landed on the latest breakout heartthrob: the idol.
A rebellious little wolfdog.
Youthful, energetic, with a jealous streak a mile wide—aloof to the world, yet melting only for you. Supposedly, he was… harder than diamonds. Ahem.
Tempting.
One of the main selling points of this game was unrestricted adult romance—hand-holding, kissing, and… well, more.
But the vetting was intense. You couldn’t use someone else’s ID, and logging in required both facial and fingerprint recognition.
The sensory system could be adjusted at will—everything felt nearly real thanks to neural stimulation. If you didn’t want physical contact, you could simply disable that function. The game catered to all preferences.
The only downside? It was still in open beta. Romance paths were notoriously difficult to unlock. Who knew if they’d ever make it easier?
But that was fine. Susu loved a challenge.
The game emphasized realism—your in-game appearance only differed from your real one by 5% at most. To boost his chances, Susu even bought a “peerless beauty” item from the shop, keeping his looks in top form at all times.
No way Chu Xingxiao wouldn’t notice that.
