Song Guang: I didn’t get a PhD.
A rare attempt at a cold joke from him.
Song Guang: You really don’t remember?
Chi Zhan: I’m sorry… I really don’t.
Song Guang: I didn’t wait long. After you left, I barely logged in at all.
…But the system clearly showed he’d been online just 107 days ago.
By the time they finished the game, it was already late. Chi Zhan told Song Guang good night.
Song Guang: kissing cat.jpg
Song Guang: Made up for it.
He was referring to the earlier cat begging for a kiss.jpg that had gone ignored—this was him finally returning the kiss.
That night, Chi Zhan dreamt of cats doing everything—cat cooking, cat fighting, cat crying, cat kissing to heal.
A very… unhealthy dream.
Chi Zhan woke up early the next morning. It was still a bit too early to head out for work, so he figured he’d treat himself to breakfast.
There was a breakfast stall in the neighborhood selling fried dough sticks and buns—famous for being delicious, infamous for having long lines. Only early birds got a taste; if you were late, you were out of luck.
It had rained not long ago. The air was still damp, the sky a hazy blue-gray, with not a trace of warmth. Every breath turned to mist. The temperature had dropped sharply. Chi Zhan, who hated the cold, bundled up in a down jacket and jogged along the roadside.
Suddenly, he heard barking.
“Not this way. Wasn’t it over there?” a male voice muttered. “I could’ve sworn we already passed this corner…”
Chi Zhan followed the sound and nearly collided with Chu Xingxiao, who had a giant question mark practically floating over his head.
“Gege!” Chu Xingxiao clearly hadn’t expected to run into him and looked genuinely surprised. “You’re up so early.”
Dressed in all-black activewear, Chu Xingxiao looked completely unfazed by the cold. Next to him, Chi Zhan—bundled up like a puffball—made for a stark contrast.
“You’re up even earlier.”
The dog at Chu Xingxiao’s side panted excitedly, eyes locked onto Chi Zhan. It barked a couple of times and wagged its tail so hard it looked ready to launch itself.
“Dabai, heel.”
Chi Zhan crouched down with a smile.
“Is he yours?”
He patted the fluffy white Samoyed, who immediately responded by whipping its head around in excitement.
His hand came back covered in white fur. Soft. Completely different from petting a cat.
“He’s not exactly ‘little’ anymore. His energy is off the charts. I just came out to grab breakfast and ended up lost. This neighborhood’s bigger than I thought.”
He lifted a takeaway bag with a familiar logo—the same breakfast place Chi Zhan had been aiming for.
With a bright smile, he asked, “Gege, will you take me home? In return, I’ll share breakfast.”
As it happened, he’d bought two portions. They laid them out on Chi Zhan’s dining table.
Chu Xingxiao mentioned that his apartment still wasn’t fully moved in, and he’d slept on the couch last night. His back was killing him. He then asked if Chi Zhan wanted to head to the office together—he’d drive.
Chi Zhan gladly agreed.
Dabai was bouncing around Chi Zhan’s apartment, happily rubbing against his leg one minute and yipping for hugs the next.
Chu Xingxiao couldn’t bear to watch.
“Dabai, sit. Now,” he said sternly.
Chi Zhan reassured the dog with a smile. “It’s fine. Puppies are supposed to be energetic.”
The Samoyed grinned with its tongue lolling out, looking for all the world like it was mocking him.
“……”
He drove Chi Zhan to the company. They split paths at the lobby—Chu Xingxiao headed to the Entertainment Division, while Chi Zhan went to the President’s Strategy Division.
As usual, he made a cup of coffee for Zhou Yanxing. Seeing the man buried in documents, he didn’t interrupt and quietly slipped out of the office.
His private work chat was exploding. Everyone was tagging him.
Xiao Zhang: Secretary Chi! Was that Chu Xingxiao who came in with you just now?! Aaaa I’m such a fan!
Xiao Li: Chu Xingxiao, oh my god! I want his autograph so bad! His voice is amazing, and his rap is killer. I’ve tried three times to get concert tickets and failed every time!
Xiao Song: Secretary Chi, please! Just let me shake his hand once!
“……”
He declined them all with a polite excuse: He’s very busy. Everyone focus on work, and maybe later there’ll be a chance.
Truthfully, he didn’t know Chu Xingxiao all that well.
Sure, they’d gotten along these past couple of days, but that was likely just Chu Xingxiao’s outgoing personality. The guy could probably chat with a lamppost.
Chu Xingxiao entered the rehearsal room. The others were already there and greeted him a bit awkwardly.
“Chu-ge.”
The company was planning a new variety show and intended to send all the trainees. Of them, Chu Xingxiao was easily the most popular.
Honestly, he didn’t even need a variety show to boost his fame.
Natural-born talent was the best kind of popularity.
His schedule was packed with offers. His agent had more gigs than they knew what to do with. But unlike some others, he wasn’t chasing fame. He just wanted to do what he liked.
Still, it wasn’t always up to him.
Singing wasn’t enough anymore. You had to act, dance, be an all-rounder.
Chu Xingxiao gave the others a quick nod, lips pressed into a line. That bright, sunny smile he’d shown Chi Zhan was gone—replaced by a much colder expression.
He was dressed in a black coat, hands in his pockets, face unreadable as he walked past.
Today’s performance class was on how to play a villain.
Chu Xingxiao sat with his eyes half-lidded, listening to the instructor in a daze.
The moving company was slow, and his apartment was still a mess. He’d spent last night curled up on the couch. It was too soft, left him sore all over. He’d gone for a morning jog and made a detour to that bun shop, which left him completely drained.
His head drooped lower and lower.
That handsome face was about to disappear into his collar. But no one dared to wake him.
Everyone knew Chu Xingxiao had a temper when woken. Once, a clueless trainee had shaken him awake during a nap—and Chu Xingxiao’s face had been stormy all afternoon.
That poor trainee had been on edge the entire day.
Now, even if he nodded off, people would bring him a pillow so he could sleep more comfortably.
“…Why’s he sleeping here?” a voice muttered from the distance, drawing closer until it stopped right in front of him. A hand gently shook his shoulder. “Chu Xingxiao, wake up. Class is over.”
