“What?” Chu Xingxiao was caught off guard. “You’re in a relationship?”
Then, as if tasting something subtle in those words, he narrowed in on the implication.
“Future, huh?” Chu’s instincts were razor-sharp. “So… you’re still chasing him?”
“He’s my boyfriend now. So don’t you dare half-ass it. Otherwise, you can kiss that gift box goodbye.”
“Fine—What’s his address?”
Qi Song recited a string of numbers.
Chu was lounging comfortably in a break room, casually grabbing a pen from the table and jotting it down in his notepad.
“Building D, Unit 6, Century Complex…”
In the middle of writing, he suddenly fell silent.
“You got it?”
“…Are you sure that’s the right address?” Chu’s voice sounded a little off. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly felt wrong, but something definitely was. When Qi Song confirmed, Chu’s previously lax expression tightened, his voice growing a little strained. “Your boyfriend’s name… what is it?”
“Chi.”
Chu Xingxiao was completely speechless.
Qi Song called his name a few more times before Chu finally let out a low hum. The pen spun slowly between his fingers. After a deep breath, he said, “Got it. I’ll take good care of him.”
Qi Song gave him a few more reminders. Surprisingly, Chu didn’t show his usual impatience. Maybe the custom gift box really was that enticing. Qi Song finally ended the call.
Though his cousin was wild, temperamental, and hard to get along with, at the very least he was dependable—once he agreed to something, he’d follow through.
Qi Song stood up.
“Where are you going? Aren’t you gonna keep texting? When are you introducing us to this mystery boyfriend, huh? Let’s see how amazing he really is.”
“You already know him,” Qi Song said casually, leaving Chen Che stunned.
“…I do?” Chen Che blinked. “Wait—you know him too?” He suddenly turned to Wen An with a weird look. “Don’t tell me… it’s you?”
“The hell it is!” Wen An was speechless. “You seriously need to eat more walnuts or something.”
Qi Song shrugged on his jacket. Chen Che called after him, “You’re not seriously going to see your boyfriend, are you? Coach’s not gonna allow that!”
“We’re having hotpot. He told me to make sure I eat a proper dinner.”
“…???”
Chen Che felt like cold rain was slapping him in the face while giant mouthfuls of dog food were being force-fed down his throat. He nearly choked to death on the PDA.
It was dinnertime. Chi Zhan had reminded Song Guang to eat, then started browsing delivery options himself. A little while later, the doorbell rang—must’ve been the food.
Chi Zhan got up and opened the door.
Standing there were the delivery guy—and Chu Xingxiao.
One on each side of the door. Like twin guardian deities.
“……”
The delivery guy gave him a weird look, pointing to Chu Xingxiao.
“I just got here. He’s been loitering outside the door for a while now—hasn’t left.”
The implication was clear: Do you want to call the police?
“……”
The delivery guy left. Chu Xingxiao was still standing there.
“Gege, you haven’t been answering my calls or texts.”
Chu’s voice sounded hurt, and he was coughing again. His complexion wasn’t great, but he was still carefully wrapped up in the scarf Chi Zhan had given him.
It was obviously colder outside than inside. The moment the door opened, a biting chill swept in. Chu was already sick—who knew how long he’d been standing out there, with zero regard for his health. And from the looks of it, if Chi Zhan didn’t let him in, he’d just keep standing there.
Like a big dog that had been abandoned by its owner.
Chi Zhan’s heart softened.
“Come in.”
Chu kept his head down, as if he hadn’t heard, his gaze distant. Chi Zhan had no choice but to reach out and pull him inside.
His hand was even colder than Chi Zhan had expected—like ice. Noticing the poor color of his face, Chi Zhan reached out and touched his forehead.
“Did I do something wrong?” Chu mumbled. “I just… wanted to check on you. Everyone’s saying you got hurt, but I haven’t even seen you. Gege, where are you hurt? Is it serious?”
The second his fingers brushed Chu’s forehead, Chi Zhan flinched—it was burning.
“You’ve got a fever,” Chi Zhan frowned. “Did you take any medicine?”
“No. I’m fine,” Chu replied, as if he hadn’t heard the question. He just kept asking where Chi Zhan was injured.
Chi Zhan had originally planned to keep some distance between them. But with Chu burning up like this, he couldn’t just leave him alone.
“Where’s your manager? Why’s no one looking after you?”
“Gege!” Chu’s eyes suddenly sharpened. “Why won’t you answer me?”
Chi Zhan gave in.
“It’s nothing. My back’s injured—but it’s not serious, there’s nothing to—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Chu had quietly leaned in, staring up at him with unblinking eyes.
There was something complicated in that gaze.
Chi Zhan couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
He stood.
“I’ll get you something for the fever—”
“I’ll get it myself. Your back’s hurt. You shouldn’t be moving around. If you need dinner, I’ll bring it to you.”
Chi Zhan felt guilty letting a sick person take care of him, but for some reason Chu was being so forceful. He even ordered him to lie down. When Chi Zhan refused, Chu blinked hard—his eyes rimmed red, as if he were about to cry.
Chi Zhan panicked. He hadn’t expected a few words to make Chu cry. Or maybe it was just that sick people got more emotional?
He sat on the couch, watching Chu take out the meal containers one by one. He wanted to help, but one stern look from Chu shut that down immediately.
Under normal circumstances, Chi Zhan wouldn’t have listened. But with Chu sick and on the verge of tears, he had no idea how to handle him.
Nineteen-year-old little brother—why was he so damn weepy?
“How about this,” Chi Zhan offered carefully, “I ordered a lot. Let’s eat together, okay? After dinner, you take your meds and go home to rest. Sound good?”
“No. “I’m not going back,” Chu said stubbornly. “I’m staying to take care of you.”
