FLME Ch65

Fans created content on their own, typically unrestrained by logic, with satisfying fandom tastes as the ultimate goal.

Xie Heyu mirrored a few images, which were rather explicit and wildly imaginative—not only in human form, but also with non-human and intersex versions, and several others…

Making a human version was one thing, but technically, the rest should’ve been impossible to create. For example, Yu Wen couldn’t be intersex, nor could he, like the dragon in the story, grow two… but that’s not the point.

The point was that even these texts had to be mirrored to evade censorship on Weibo. Why on earth did he and Yu Wen have the audacity to risk such a bold move?

Xie Heyu rubbed his nose, backed out, returned to the main trending page, took a screenshot of the #VillainHeroAfterSales# trend, and sent it to Yu Wen.

By then, Yu Wen had already sneaked back into his room, aimlessly flipping through books on Xie Heyu’s bookshelf.

Teacher Xie’s bookshelf was mostly stocked with professional books, not exactly fun reading. Yu Wen picked out a couple of introductory books on electronics to broaden his knowledge when a message from Xie Heyu popped up.

He glanced at it, realizing that the three videos shot by the company had already been posted online. Judging by the trending discussion, it seemed to have gone viral since the morning.

It was rare for Xie Jiamao, who used to get so hyped about trending topics, not to have come around to stir up excitement. The Starlight Media team seemed to have grown worldly; a minor trending topic was routine fare for them.

Aside from Chu Han occasionally discussing his new role in the group chat or Xi Su asking for a publicity red envelope whenever a new project aired, Starlight Media’s core group chat was silent. Everyone seemed to have weathered enough storms, unmoved by joy or sorrow.

Yu Wen smirked, setting aside the professional book to check the trending topics.

Meanwhile, Xie Heyu was scrolling through his phone, fending off his dad’s relentless barrage.

“…Not interested. You tried this once back in my third year of high school, and now I’m a sophomore.”

Xie Jialin choked up. “You didn’t go back then.”

Xie Heyu replied, “You said it was your ‘lifelong wish,’ and if it wasn’t fulfilled, you’d die with regrets.”

Xie Jialin: “That’s right.”

Xie Heyu shot him a cool glance. “Aunt told me you had cancer and didn’t have long to live. That’s why I agreed.”

Xie Jialin: “…”

His sister really had guts to make that up.

He awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “No wonder you suddenly changed your mind…”

Though his family held high expectations, Xie Heyu didn’t like engaging in arts-related work. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t been sent to learn music and painting, but he quickly realized that he was all about reason, lacking in romantic instincts. Without empathy or creativity, he wasn’t suited for these fields.

Xie Heyu had a clear understanding of himself; no matter how his family coaxed him, he never budged.

Later, Xie Jialin took a more unconventional approach, hoping he’d try out for a talent show. After all, idols eventually became actors, so it was all the same.

The only time Xie Heyu’s stance softened was in his third year of high school, when he’d been tricked by his aunt. He learned a bit of dance and vocal technique but hadn’t even gotten on stage before realizing his aunt’s claims about terminal illness were total nonsense—his dad was in perfect health.

“Forget it, our Xie family just doesn’t have that kind of talent,” Xie Heyu said coldly. “If I went into the entertainment industry, would I perform the ‘grim-faced war god’ for the audience? Even you find me dull. You think the audience wouldn’t?”

Xie Jialin thought about it and had to agree.

Someone like Yu Wen thrived in the entertainment industry—he had audience appeal, acted well, and only his face was watchable when he was taciturn on camera…

“Fine, then.” Xie Jialin sighed regretfully. “Are you hungry? Want some midnight snacks?”

Xie Heyu shook his head and was just about to go upstairs.

Xie Jialin: “I’m a bit hungry.”

Xie Heyu: “…”

Oh, good grief.

Xie Jialin’s cooking skills were so-so. When he wanted something good to eat and the head chef wasn’t around, he’d pester Xie Heyu.

With hands in his pockets, Xie Heyu stepped up the stairs, his back spelling out “no comment” in bold letters. After a moment of silent hesitation, he turned back, went to the kitchen, and asked, “What do you want to eat?”

Xie Jialin rubbed his hands together. “Steamed bass, braised pork ribs, garlic eggplant…”

Xie Heyu tossed him an apron.

Xie Jialin changed his tune: “Noodles.”

The kitchen went silent.

Xie Jialin cautiously added, “Sweetie… can you add an egg? Thanks, love you.”

Inside the kitchen, Xie Heyu thought to message Yu Wen, asking if he was hungry and wanted any midnight snacks. When he opened WeChat, he saw he had a new message.

Yu Wen: [Teacher Xie, you’re really famous.]

Xie Heyu: [ …? ]

Yu Wen was scrolling through the trending topics and, upon seeing Xie’s question mark, replied cheerfully: [Everyone’s looking for you, Teacher Xie. You’re truly popular now; be mindful of your words and actions from here on out.]

Ignoring all that, Xie Heyu asked: [Are you hungry? I’m making midnight snacks. What would you like?]

Yu Wen: [Midnight snack? Not too hungry, maybe a yogurt bowl, but Uncle is downstairs. How will you bring it up?]

Xie Heyu: [I’ll just say it’s for the kitten.]

…What kitten eats yogurt bowls?

Yu Wen: [Alright, the kitten awaits you. kiss emoji]

Looking at the message, Xie Heyu felt a slight warmth in his chest, as if something had gently scratched at him. Suddenly, this sneaking around felt kind of fun. With family around, the “kitten” would stay hidden in his room, not daring to come out, but would still message him a kiss.

It felt like he was keeping a secret treasure.

His gaze dropped, and a small smile crept up on his lips.

After checking out the trending topics, Yu Wen followed the network trail to Xie Heyu’s private account.

The latest post was from half a year ago, an automated birthday greeting. A handful of very active accounts were commenting below, all personal accounts but with a tone of familiarity.

Some were wishing him a happy birthday, some cheering him on, some pretending to be long-time fans, and others pretending to be new. Their roles were all over the place, as if they were really getting into character.

—“Big brother, I’m Tiantian. You might not remember me. pouting emoji When you were little, I even helped change your diapers…”

—“Big brother, I’m Ruanyuan. I held you when you were little. Do you remember? shy facepalm emoji”

—“Contact info XXX… come to X City and visit your auntie; I’ll treat you right.”

The funniest part was a group photo in the comments, apparently taken on his birthday. A cake sat on the table, with Xie Heyu wearing a birthday crown.

Around ten people were cosplaying little monsters, all posing wildly. Their faces were hidden, and there in the middle, surrounded by them, was Xie Heyu… cosplaying the Ultraman character in human form, without a helmet.

The whole family knew to hide their faces while Xie Heyu’s entire body was in the shot, contributing the sole “socially dead” moment.

Standing dead-center, calm and collected, his hands were clasped as if making a wish, giving off an air of serene composure, like he was peacefully plotting to blow up the world.

Yu Wen burst into laughter as soon as he saw the photo, instantly understanding where Xie Heyu’s rock-solid calm came from.

Scrolling down through the comments, Yu Wen collected over a dozen photos.

There were casual photos, funny ones, and some normal, handsome shots. Xie Heyu had a great physique—any stance looked like a magazine shot, and he always had a blank expression. No matter how goofy the pose, he never broke his deadpan look, which, honestly, was pretty stylish.

Yu Wen saved the photos as he scrolled down, especially liking one where Xie Heyu was still in his blue and white school uniform, holding a bass guitar. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing thin but slightly muscular forearms.

It was the same expressionless face, though a bit colder than now, giving off a “stay away” vibe. His right hand hovered over the guitar strings, about to pluck them, and the veins and tendons on the back of his hand stood out strikingly.

Yu Wen instantly understood why hand-fetishists existed.

It was incredibly attractive.

After saving the string of photos, Yu Wen was still hungry for more and remembered seeing a photo album on the bookshelf earlier.

Yu Wen: [Can I look at your photo album? photo attached]

Xie Heyu was probably busy and didn’t reply immediately. Yu Wen stretched, feeling a little sleepy, and messaged: [I’m sitting on your bed to look, okay?]

He knew some people liked things clean and didn’t want others sitting on their bed without changing clothes, so he grabbed a couple of clothes from Xie Heyu’s closet and asked: [Is it alright if I wear these two on the bed?]

After a while, Xie Heyu replied: [Sleepy?]

Xie Heyu: [Go ahead. The clothes in the closet against the wall haven’t been worn yet, and there are disposable toiletries on the shelf by the sink. Underwear is in the second drawer from the left in the wardrobe.]

Xie Heyu: [The sealed ones are new, but they haven’t been washed, so they’re kind of dirty. I’d suggest wearing mine instead.]

Yu Wen: “…”

The thought led his mind astray, and he stood up, pacing in circles, tugging at his hair as his face started to flush.

After some hesitation, he replied: [That doesn’t seem right… Our relationship isn’t at that level yet.]

Xie Heyu, who was cooking, took a while to reply.

After a moment, he said: [Huh? Sorry, I didn’t consider that. I meant it as friendly advice, nothing more.]

In the kitchen, Xie Heyu glanced at the typing indicator in the chat window. Teacher Xiao Yu was apparently thinking something over and eventually managed to send a six-dot ellipsis.

[……]

Holding his spatula, he chuckled.

Aha… he might have found a surefire way to deal with Teacher Xiao Yu.

Yu Wen didn’t take his suggestion. Instead, he unpacked new underwear, washed, and dried it before putting it on.

He hadn’t mentioned there was a dryer in the room; Teacher Xie had probably been sneaky on purpose.

After his shower, Yu Wen leaned against the headboard, slowly flipping through the photo album.

It didn’t seem like Teacher Xie was one to take selfies, yet there were plenty of photos, probably thanks to his family’s fondness for taking pictures of him.

There were photos from all ages; one of them was from his childhood, around five or six, with a chubby face, lips pursed, and a stubborn, tear-stained expression.

So cute, it melted Yu Wen’s heart.

As he flipped further, his expressions in the photos stiffened, like someone owed him millions. Unlike his childhood, when he smiled a lot, especially in the baby photos, he’d grin with tiny teeth like sticky rice grains, which was extremely adorable.

By middle school, his taste in clothes had formed. He favored simple yet tailored outfits, which complemented his figure well, and he started adding small accessories.

The further along, the clearer his cool persona became. It was no longer a deliberately stern expression but a naturally calm demeanor.

It was hard to imagine that behind this stoic face was a rare gentle personality.

Halfway through, Xie Heyu messaged him, saying there were three photo albums in total, with the other two in the drawer, and told him to help himself if he wanted to see them.

Yu Wen practically jumped off the bed, happily grabbing the albums and quickly opening the second one.

Bedtime reading—nice.

He spent about half an hour skimming through the three albums and was just about to start on a second round when Xie Heyu walked in with a bowl of yogurt.

“Brushed your teeth?” Seeing that he was already on the bed, Xie Heyu spoke softly, not wanting to disturb him if he was getting sleepy.

But Yu Wen was actually wide awake now; once past that sleepy moment, he was only going to get more alert.

“Nope.” He shook his head, got off the bed, glanced cautiously out the door, and asked, “Did you tell him you were bringing food up for a cat? Did he believe you?”

Xie Heyu: “Who knows? Doesn’t matter.”

It wasn’t about the truth or a lie; it was just some things he didn’t want to share. He often handled Xie Jialin this way; his dad was easily brushed off—not because he wasn’t perceptive, but because he respected Heyu’s boundaries.

When Xie Heyu went downstairs, Xie Jialin was sitting on the couch, watching TV and slurping noodles. 

Seeing Heyu, he gave a sidelong glance and, after swallowing, said, “Your cat’s funny. Like a person…”

Xie Heyu just folded his arms and stood at the bottom of the stairs, coldly glaring at him, his expression practically screaming, “This is all your fault.”

Xie Jialin smacked his lips, testing the waters, “Should I…go out and play cards?”

“Then I’d really be an ungrateful son.” Xie Heyu snorted, carrying Yu Wen’s empty yogurt bowl to the kitchen to wash it.

Xie Jialin slurped his noodles some more, but couldn’t resist saying, “Just one question—does this cat’s surname happen to be Yu?”

In the kitchen, water was running. After a moment, the sound stopped. Xie Heyu emerged, casually drying his hands. “Mm.”

Xie Jialin stood up so fast he nearly dropped his bowl!

“I’m going out for cards,” he announced decisively. “Don’t try to stop me; it’s my choice. I’m covered in ants. If I don’t go, I’ll die.”

He hurried to the door, set his empty bowl on the shoe rack, and said, “Going now. You can wash my bowl, right? Not too much to ask?”

Then, flashing a trendy hand heart with a knowing smile, he was out the door.

“Whatever, Dad.” Xie Heyu remained where he was, casually saying, “One night doesn’t make a difference.”

He took his dad’s bowl back to the kitchen, then suddenly had a thought and leaned against the doorway, saying, “I think I should make some changes…”

“Hm?” Xie Jialin grew wary. “You’re not thinking about starting a business, are you?”

It made sense if dating was inspiring him, but a business? That was just unnecessary; without one, their family’s assets could last three generations, but with one, the Xie family might actually go bankrupt.

Xie Jiahao’s “striving” was more than enough for the family.

“…What are you even thinking?” Xie Heyu sighed. “I just thought I remembered you had another place nearby…”

“So…this is your plan to ‘strive’?” After a brief pause, Xie Jialin softened, “Good kid, starting a business would be a mistake. Relying on family is the right way. Excellent choice. You pick a place; I’ll transfer it to you right away.”

Xie Heyu: “…”

He just wanted to move. It wasn’t far, after all. Now that he was dating, the idea of these awkward situations repeating was…not ideal.

Xie Jialin: “…Take them all; settle in and be comfortable. No need to change anything. Money? Need cash? Dating costs money. How about some shares too?”

Feeling a little dizzy, Xie Heyu washed up, covered his ears, and went back upstairs.

Yu Wen had turned off the main light and left two soft bedside lamps on. He was lying on the bed, propped on his elbows, and poring over photos.

His legs were kicking up, his feet swinging leisurely, completely at ease.

Xie Heyu, originally concerned about his comfort level, relaxed at the sight, sitting at the edge of the bed and giving Yu Wen’s freshly washed, fluffy hair a ruffle.

“Back already?” Yu Wen grabbed his hand and spoke in a drawling tone.

Guessing he was sleepy, Xie Heyu asked, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I’m waiting for you.”

Yu Wen turned over, sat up, spread the album in front of him, and pointed to the blue fish-shaped symbol on the clothing. “Did you hand-draw this? Where did you see this symbol before?”

Xie Heyu looked down at the album.

It was his middle school uniform, with a dark blue twin-fish symbol on the bottom hem, in simple lines—a hand-drawn design.

The years had passed, and he honestly couldn’t remember why he’d drawn it there.

“…Don’t remember, but I’m sure I saw it somewhere. I must’ve thought it looked good and added it to my clothes.”

“Is that so?” Yu Wen asked, skeptical.

Back when Heyu had helped him move his computer, he’d also said the symbol looked familiar, though Yu Wen hadn’t paid much attention. Later, after searching online, he was sure this design didn’t exist here and wasn’t anyone’s logo.

And his computer version was black, so how did Heyu know the original was blue?

A thought had crossed his mind. Transmigration was mysterious, after all. If he was here, maybe there could be a second or third.

He decided to test him.

“So, in your book…who’s the main character?”

Xie Heyu gazed at him, dark eyes unblinking, without a word.

Yu Wen grew tense.

No way. Could his guess be right…? If so, Heyu was probably soul-swapped, given how many old photos there were as proof…

“Sorry,” Xie Heyu said, “I’m not following you at all.”

Yu Wen: “…”

Dude, were you silent that long, trying to decipher my mind?

Not ready to give up, Yu Wen pressed, “In the book, Chu Han ends up with…?”

Xie Heyu: “…Which book?”

Yu Wen kept trying to switch up his questions, but Xie Heyu was completely clueless, and he finally gave up.

“Nothing,” he said, deflated. “Just a random thought.”

Xie Heyu patted his head in reassurance. “I’ll go freshen up. Sleep if you’re tired.”

Yu Wen nodded gloomily.

He muttered, “Thought we could talk about over there…”

He missed home, honestly.

Heyu heard this little mutter and, holding the bathroom door handle, paused for a moment.

After a second, he nonchalantly entered the bathroom.