Zhou Yanxing didn’t bother with pleasantries.
“Since you know your timing’s terrible, you can leave now.”
Cen Chi simply smiled.
“That’s not up to you. Besides, I suspect… you didn’t exactly drop by for business either, did you?”
“Come in,” Chi Zhan interjected quickly, sensing the tension crackling between the two. He couldn’t just kick either of them out, so he switched the subject.
It was the weekend—nothing was so urgent that it couldn’t wait. Besides, Zhou Yanxing’s attire wasn’t exactly formal today. One glance and Cen Chi immediately saw through him—this longtime friend of his had clearly dressed up, planning to spend a cozy afternoon with Chi Zhan.
The irony was, Cen Chi hadn’t really just been “passing by” either. Chi Zhan’s weekdays were consumed by work, and he only had time during lunch or dinner. On rare days off like this, what better time to nurture a budding relationship?
Problem was, they’d all had the same idea—and ended up crashing each other’s plans.
As soon as Cen Chi stepped inside, he noticed the unfamiliar man in the kitchen chopping vegetables with excessive force—and Qi Song sitting silently, flipping through a book on the couch.
…Interesting.
Of all four men present, Qi Song was probably the least socially involved. At the very least, Cen Chi had barely exchanged more than a few words with him. Yet, he was well aware of Qi Song’s background.
The “long-distance boyfriend” Chi Zhan had once mentioned—the one he’d been “dating online” for ages—must have been Qi Song, the same person he’d partnered with in-game.
After a brief glance, Cen Chi looked away. “Didn’t expect your place to be this lively today, Ah-Zhan.” His tone carried a faint hint of amusement, but he didn’t press. Instead, he offered the bouquet. “I passed by a flower shop and thought of you. The last bouquet I gave you must’ve withered by now—this one should replace it nicely.”
It was another bundle of pink roses, dew still clinging to the petals. Cen Chi seemed particularly fond of that variety.
Chi Zhan had been meaning to buy some fresh flowers himself, but work kept piling up, and he’d forgotten. Now with this new bouquet, the atmosphere at home felt warmer, softer.
He accepted it politely.
“Thank you.”
Zhou Yanxing snorted.
“Don’t use your blind date tactics on him.”
Cen Chi smiled but didn’t respond.
“Smells amazing. Looks like I showed up just in time.”
From the kitchen came the loud, deliberate sounds of knife work—clearly someone was trying to make a point. And only one person in the house would be that childish.
Chi Zhan hesitated.
“Doctor Cen, are you staying for lunch? There might not be enough noodles…”
“It’s fine. I don’t eat much,” Cen Chi said as he rolled up his sleeves. He gave Chi Zhan a gentle smile and headed toward the kitchen.
“Can’t just eat and do nothing—let me help out a bit.”
A vein visibly twitched at Zhou Yanxing’s temple.
That was obviously a jab at him.
Chi Zhan didn’t even have time to object. Cen Chi had already slipped into the kitchen. Seeing the storm cloud forming over Zhou Yanxing’s face, Chi Zhan made a beeline for the bedroom to grab Cen Chi’s clothes.
He really had borrowed a few items from Cen Chi here and there—but every time he meant to return them, something else distracted him.
Now this once spacious apartment suddenly felt suffocating, crammed full of four romance targets. Even the air felt sticky.
Chi Zhan took a deep breath and told himself to stay calm. Yes, he’d lied to each of them—but things shouldn’t be blowing up just yet.
…Hopefully no one would say it out loud.
Suddenly, the robot vacuum at his feet whirred to life.
In a voice full of barely-contained fury, it growled, “What the hell is going on?! Why are all four of them in your house?!”
Chi Zhan tried to soothe it.
“They’re just here for a quick meal. They’ll leave soon. It’ll be fine.”
The system snapped, “No! This is a huge problem! Do you even remember how many lies you’ve told them? And their Blackening Values—ugh! The closer they get, the faster my energy drains! What do you think this is, a gacha event? Summon four targets at once and get a damn dragon?! Kick them out, now!”
Chi Zhan sighed.
“You’re being dramatic. They’ll leave soon, I promise. What do you mean your energy’s draining?”
The system was near hysterical.
“You don’t understand how serious this is! When these four are in the same room, it becomes exponentially easier for them to piece everything together. Their combined IQs could rival an actual AI! If they figure it out…”
A knock interrupted the rant.
The bedroom door creaked open, and Zhou Yanxing’s voice followed: “Lunch’s ready.”
He glanced inside, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Who were you talking to?”
Chi Zhan froze for a beat.
“…Just a voice call. Coming.”
Zhou Yanxing’s gaze dropped to the robot vacuum at Chi Zhan’s feet. His brows furrowed, clearly wondering, Why is this thing here? Shouldn’t it be under the bed or something?
“Why is that livestreamer in your house?”
Though his tone still held a chill, the earlier sharpness was gone—perhaps because of that accidental kiss. Now, he just sounded grumpy.
“Stay away from him. He doesn’t seem like a good person.”
“Seven’s not a livestreamer,” Chi Zhan explained. “He’s a professional e-sports player. He just streams occasionally.”
Zhou Yanxing’s scowl deepened. He narrowed his eyes at Chi Zhan.
“Why are you defending him?”
Chi Zhan opened his mouth to explain further—but realized mid-sentence that this was a dead end.
What Zhou Yanxing truly cared about wasn’t whether Qi Song was a streamer or an athlete. It was…
After a pause, Chi Zhan said, “That sweater looks really good on you today.”
Zhou Yanxing immediately perked up. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Really?”
“Mhm. You should try more styles like this in the future,” Chi Zhan said, stepping out of the bedroom. He offered a soft smile. “You’d look good in all of them.”
Ah yes—Zhou Yanxing was the type who responded to flattery, not logic.
That accidental kiss earlier… the fact that Zhou hadn’t gotten mad, just stood there dazed—Chi Zhan realized something in that moment.
The all-powerful, intimidating President Zhou might have a softer side after all.
He’d masked it well, but Chi Zhan had seen through the cracks.
No one could endure Zhou Yanxing’s death glare for long—it was a weapon he’d perfected at the negotiating table, enough to bring hardened executives to their knees. Chi Zhan had no chance against it.
But now, Zhou was clearly appeased. Chi Zhan finally exhaled, thinking—
Maybe this crisis is over.
