RSDH CH22

Tang Ning arrived at the designated floor as he had hoped. Looking around, a discreet gleam of delight surfaced in his eyes and brows; things had gone far smoother than anticipated.

He had been fully prepared to be turned away by Cheng Duzhou, yet the man had let him in without a single word of hesitation.

Smoothing his rain-drenched hair, Tang Ning knocked on the door with a timid, restrained cadence.

The door opened. Cheng Duzhou’s towering physique blocked the entrance, his handsome face devoid of any emotion. The glance swept from those pitch-black eyes was enough to instill sheer dread.

Tang Ning’s puffed-up confidence deflated in an instant, his voice shrinking: “Senior Brother… sorry to disturb you so late.”

“Who gave you this address?” Cheng Duzhou cut straight to the chase. In his deep, low voice, even the customary three ounces of politeness reserved for outsiders were withdrawn, leaving behind nothing but cold distance.

Tang Ning suddenly grew uneasy, unable to gauge Cheng Duzhou’s intentions.

If he had been willing to let him up, why was he still being so fierce, looking as if he couldn’t stand the sight of him?

Yet no matter how terrifying Cheng Duzhou was, he wasn’t as vicious as Duan Xingye.

Tang Ning rallied his courage.

“I’m sorry, I can’t say.” His apologetic tone held a stubborn streak, pulling out the acting chops from his 3.8-rated historical romance drama as he said, “I really need to speak with you about something. If I hadn’t been driven to a dead end, I wouldn’t have…”

—Click.

The bedroom door deep within the hallway opened.

Tang Ning’s heart skipped a beat. Forgetting all courtesy, his gaze darted right past Cheng Duzhou’s side to look inside.

Someone’s here?

Who?

He had watched Duan Xingye get into the car with his own eyes this afternoon.

Cheng Duzhou is cheating at home!

Yet in the next second, Tang Ning’s eyes went wide.

Following the sound, Cheng Duzhou turned his head.

Duan Xingye had stepped out, leaning casually against the wall by the master bedroom doorway. He had changed clothes, now wearing a pine-green silk bathrobe. The low-saturation hue did nothing to suppress his icy, jade-like skin, instead accentuating how fair and luminous it looked. The amber light pooled in his upturned eyes, exuding a cat-like languor.

Cheng Duzhou’s gaze traced from that radiant face down the extended line of his neck. The bathrobe’s crossover collar was loose, listing slightly to the side in casual disarray to reveal delicate collarbones. Further down was a narrow waist cinched by a belt, followed by long, straight calves and finely sculpted ankle bones—one foot resting on tiptoe inside a slipper, the heel lifted slightly to tap gently against the other ankle.

—Gulp.

The sound of Cheng Duzhou swallowing his saliva was so loud that Tang Ning even darted a suspicious glance at him. “…”

Duan Xingye didn’t spare a single glance for Cheng Duzhou, tilting his head toward Tang Ning: “Need something?”

Tang Ning’s brain overheated to the point where steam practically rose from his wet hair, like a dry-frying CPU.

Facing Duan Xingye, he was already plagued by a guilty conscience. Unable to think of a better excuse, he could only brush past the suspicious nature of showing up at Cheng Duzhou’s door late at night, bracing himself: “Hello, Teacher Duan. I… I want to participate in Singer-Songwriter 101.”

“Oh,” Duan Xingye said. “I’m asking if you need him for something.”

While saying “him,” he didn’t look at Cheng Duzhou once.

Tang Ning’s face turned pale. Pressed by Duan Xingye’s deceptively casual yet utterly unyielding interrogation, he wished he could bolt from the spot, nodding with difficulty: “Yes…”

Duan Xingye followed up: “What business can’t be said tomorrow?”

Tang Ning stammered: “I… I just happened to be passing by…”

“Do you know what time it is? If it’s not urgent, schedule a time to chat later.” Duan Xingye set down his lifted heel, dismissing him in a few concise words: “Cheng Duzhou, see your junior brother downstairs.”

His plan foiled, Tang Ning panicked. Having already walked straight into the line of fire, he refused to believe Duan Xingye wouldn’t jump to conclusions and retaliate against him later. Throwing caution to the wind, he blurted out: “Teacher Duan, please don’t be angry! I didn’t know you were home tonight. If I had known, I wouldn’t have come. Now it’s caused a misunderstanding. It’s all my fault! Please don’t blame Senior Brother—there is really nothing between us!”

Cheng Duzhou’s breath hitched tight. Lowering his eyes, his suppressed voice was deep: “Let’s go…”

“What could there be?” Duan Xingye interrupted, asking Tang Ning, “Or rather, are you hoping I’ll suspect something?”

Tang Ning choked: “I…”

“I speak rather bluntly, so don’t take it to heart.” Duan Xingye’s appraising gaze swept over him from head to toe, finally returning to Tang Ning’s face: “His appetite was spoiled by me. Even if he starved to death, he wouldn’t go looking for coarse grains to eat.”

A humiliating flush exploded across Tang Ning’s face.

Cheng Duzhou was finally able to exhale a long breath of relief, as if cleared of a grievous injustice.

“Cheng Duzhou?”

The lilt at the end of Duan Xingye’s tone hitched upward, an almost cheerful prompt as he gestured toward Tang Ning.

Cheng Duzhou’s gaze fell straight onto the long, luminous calves beneath the bathrobe, lingering for two passes. Saying nothing, he turned and stepped out the door. The sooner he left, the sooner he’d be back.

—”Cheng Duzhou.”

Tang Ning was already heading toward the elevator bank, thoroughly crestfallen. Just as Cheng Duzhou was about to pull the door shut, Duan Xingye suddenly called out to him.

Cheng Duzhou pulled the door open again, looking at him, his tone turning somewhat soft: “What is it?”

Walking up to the doorway, Duan Xingye reached out and tossed Cheng Duzhou’s phone into his pajama pocket.

Cheng Duzhou glanced at the heavy pocket and lifted his eyes.

Bracing one hand against the doorframe and holding the doorknob with the other, Duan Xingye lowered his head and pulled the door shut: “You don’t need to come back in a bit either.”

Cheng Duzhou: “…”

Stepping out of the residential building, the rain outside had stopped.

In the low temperatures of February, chilling winds meeting cold drizzle were more than enough to chill one straight to the bone.

Standing on the steps, Cheng Duzhou let the damp air fill his lungs, gazing toward the dim landscape greenery ahead as he asked once more: “Who gave you this address?”

Standing in a corner well away from the man, Tang Ning choked out a name.

Cheng Duzhou spoke no further, yet the oppressive pressure bearing down on his surroundings didn’t lessen in the slightest.

“Senior Brother, I caused you trouble, but I didn’t mean to,” Tang Ning choked out, his eyes rimmed with red. “I really came because I need help. Ever since Teacher Duan called out my plastic surgery on stream, I’ve lost countless job opportunities. Teacher Duan had a misunderstanding about me back then, but I don’t blame him, and what’s past is past. Still, I can’t afford to miss out on this music show. I want to clear things up with Teacher Duan; otherwise, a single word from him could kick me off the program. But I’m terrified he won’t agree, so… Senior Brother, could you put in a good word for me?”

Everyone at Shengxing knew that Cheng Duzhou and Duan Xingye were like two kings who never crossed paths in their daily lives. Even though they had recently started doing public promotions, Tang Ning had always believed their relationship couldn’t possibly warm up so quickly.

As long as Cheng Duzhou didn’t take Duan Xingye’s side, playing the pity card would work. Given Cheng Duzhou’s gentlemanly character, he couldn’t possibly leave a junior from the same company out to dry—so why would he ever need to beg Duan Xingye?

“Why would I help you?”

Cheng Duzhou’s dry voice was completely devoid of emotion.

Tang Ning froze for a moment, probing in a hushed whisper: “Senior Brother, I’ll do whatever you want…”

Cheng Duzhou glanced at Tang Ning. In those eyes lay haughty indifference and mocking transparency that saw through everything—everything except benevolence or mercy.

Tang Ning understood in an instant: that hadn’t been a question, but a flat declaration. Blood rushed to his face in a burning tide.

“You’re afraid a single word from Duan Xingye could make you exit the variety show, yet not afraid that a single word from me could make you exit showbiz? What gave you the illusion that I have a good temper?”

“Rest assured, I won’t target you. You don’t amount to anything between Duan Xingye and me, and your apology is equally worthless to us.”

“Your behavior tonight constitutes harassment. The company will handle it according to protocol. You may leave. Consider yourself warned for the future.”

…

As Tang Ning walked away, he found himself thinking that Cheng Duzhou and Duan Xingye were actually very alike.

Their haughtiness, their unwavering certainty in themselves and each other, were strikingly identical.

…

Having sent the uninvited guest packing, the trouble finally turned back onto himself.

Standing downstairs, Cheng Duzhou called Jian Mingming.

Shengxing’s second-largest shareholder—a second-generation heir who only needed to lie back and count cash all day long.

“President Cheng?” Jian Mingming was surprised. “It’s so late, why aren’t you asleep yet?”

With one hand jammed in his pocket, Cheng Duzhou’s voice was heavy: “A minor star from the company ran over to my house in the middle of the night, caught red-handed by my husband.”

“Cough!” Jian Mingming choked, suddenly wide awake. “I’ll investigate this thoroughly and give you an explanation ASAP. Just get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

Cheng Duzhou enunciated with elegance: “Sleep, sleep, sleep, go to sleep with your…”

The following two words were so foul that Jian Mingming had to pull the phone slightly away from his ear.

Cheng Duzhou was the only person who could curse out Shengxing’s major shareholder; even the boss couldn’t do that.

If Cheng Duzhou left Shengxing, he would still thrive effortlessly; but if Shengxing lost him, half their sky would effectively collapse.

Jian Mingming brought the phone back to his ear.

Only to hear Cheng Duzhou bark:

“Rein in those perverts among your upper management who like little boys, can you? Ever heard of respecting personal privacy?”

“Stop using my name to prop up newcomers. I don’t have junior brothers or junior sisters. Stop having every fucking nobody claiming ties to me. Issue a public statement clarifying this.”

“Do you have any idea tomorrow is my wedding anniversary? But my husband is raging right now. Who the hell wrecks other people’s families like this?”

“…”

Feels like you’re the one who’s more furious right now.

Bombarded into speechless submission, Jian Mingming sincerely begged for mercy, acknowledging management’s negligence and offering to apologize to Duan Xingye personally.

“It’s useless,” Cheng Duzhou’s voice dropped cold. Upon closer listening, there was a touch of despondent resignation.

Jian Mingming comforted: “Don’t be like that, President Cheng.”

Feeling that Jian Mingming would never understand, Cheng Duzhou hung up directly.

…

Barely five minutes later.

Shengxing Entertainment’s official Weibo account published an officially stamped statement:

[Mr. Cheng Duzhou has never acknowledged having any junior labelmates. Please refrain from using this as a promotional gimmick or for bundled marketing.]

Although netizens didn’t know the full story, thanks to the recent explosive popularity of Companionship Along the Way, mentioning Cheng Duzhou automatically led viewers to think of Duan Xingye.

“Even the company stepped in to stamp their seal on the official couple.”

“Lu Ye Shu Huai is too solid! Delivering sweetness nonstop even when they’re off the show!”

“The one who hyped it hardest was Tang Ning, practically turning ‘junior brother’ into his personal brand.”

“This statement is meant for Tang Ning, right? For the sake of getting famous, he threw away all shame. Good thing he crashed and burned.”

“This is where we should @DuanXingyeSeen”

Issuing a statement in the dead of night for who to see?

Couldn’t care less.

Duan Xingye exited Weibo.

Cheng Duzhou returned upstairs, opening and closing the door with gentle care, even his footsteps against the floor far more cautious than usual.

The light was still on in the master bedroom.

Duan Xingye sat leaning against the headboard flipping through a book, black-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, making his already palm-sized face appear even smaller. When silent, he looked quiet and refined.

He had showered, but had already changed into his usual cotton pajamas.

Cheng Duzhou lowered his eyes.

Still harboring a lingering attachment to that pine-green silk bathrobe.

Duan Xingye seemed not to notice someone entering the room.

After a moment’s thought, Cheng Duzhou walked over as naturally as possible, pulled back the covers, and got into bed, acting as if nothing had happened: “Going to sleep?”

Rustle.

Duan Xingye turned a page.

Cheng Duzhou looked at him, pressed his lips together, said no more, and lay down with his back to Duan Xingye.

Everything was as usual, except he wrapped himself a bit tightly in the duvet.

No sound broke the silence in the room for a long while.

“I know you’re mad,” Cheng Duzhou suddenly murmured in a low voice. “If it were me, I’d be mad too.”

Duan Xingye lazily lifted an eyelid, casting a sideways glance at Cheng Duzhou.

Novel. Not only was he not lecturing him with reason, but he had learned perspective-taking.

Duan Xingye hadn’t said it, but Cheng Duzhou knew.

Duan Xingye wasn’t jealous; what he despised was having his personal boundaries crossed and his marital status challenged. In the past, they led separate lives without any scandalous gossip, coexisting in peace. But starting from the annual gala, him sharing a stage with that so-called junior brother had tested Duan Xingye’s boundaries.

Previously, Cheng Duzhou hadn’t taken countermeasures, not only because those rumors never dared dance in front of him, but primarily because he felt he had done nothing to wrong Duan Xingye. He had strictly minded his own business, honoring the distance of contract husbands—nothing more, unless Duan Xingye requested it.

Tang Ning’s sudden intrusion tonight had turned baseless rumors into physical reality. Having the company issue a dedicated statement felt like making a mountain out of a molehill, and Duan Xingye might not even care for it, but he owed Duan Xingye an explanation.

“I’m sorry,” Cheng Duzhou’s voice dropped even lower. “If I had known it would turn out like this, I would have clarified it back at the annual gala.”

Duan Xingye looked at Cheng Duzhou for a moment, withdrew his gaze, and fixed his eyes on a word in the book.

If Cheng Duzhou had clarified it, there wouldn’t have been the romance variety show afterward.

With Cheng Duzhou’s status, unless a rumor was causing an uproar across the entire internet, there was no need to clarify; paying it any mind would only elevate the other party’s profile.

Someone like Tang Ning was merely creating petty ripples. A year ago, Duan Xingye would have considered sparing him a single glance beneath his dignity. But now, with this blowing up just a few months before their divorce, Duan Xingye refused to let the public embellish their divorce narrative with outside drama. For the sake of his reputation and dignity, he had no choice but to care.

Regarding the annual gala, Cheng Duzhou didn’t need to apologize.

But making him apologize for tonight’s incident was entirely justified.

Duan Xingye still said nothing, turning another page.

“This isn’t a case of ‘it takes two to tango,'” Cheng Duzhou said, feeling deflated after getting no response for so long, his brow furrowing slightly. “I didn’t invite him over. I haven’t even spoken to him.”

—Rustle.

Agonized, Cheng Duzhou rolled over, burying his face into the pillow, bending his knees to scooch forward, kneeling prone on the bed like an ostrich, tenting the duvet right next to Duan Xingye’s hand high into the air. “…”

“I didn’t, I really didn’t—” Cheng Duzhou clutched the pillow and whined in a muffled groan, his muffled baritone having completely lost its usual composure.

Duan Xingye stared at him unblinkingly: “…”

Who do you think you’re acting cute with?

“You can’t always be like this,” Cheng Duzhou complained, his exposed ears blazing red. “I can’t be the only one making an effort.”

“?”

“What’s the use of me issuing a statement on my own?” The pillow covered half of Cheng Duzhou’s face, but the straight, tight line of his lips was still visible. “Even if I act completely devoted to you, if you don’t publicly mark your territory, won’t people still think they can take advantage of an opening? As the spouse holding the marriage certificate, have you ever provided me with protection? Have you ever given me the security a married person deserves?”

“…”

Although Cheng Duzhou’s marriage announcement had hung on Weibo for two years, everyone took it for granted that his marriage existed in name only, because Duan Xingye had never accompanied him to public events as his spouse, nor had he ever interacted with him.

Tang Ning being this brazen was precisely because he had seen through the empty core of their marriage; even if he crossed the line, netizens wouldn’t scold him, because the official couple was so lackluster that nobody genuinely invested in them.

And people like Tang Ning were hardly rare in showbiz. One could maintain their own integrity in this vanity fair, but you couldn’t expect everyone around you to have morals. With wild bees and wasps swarming all around while treating his shield like paper, Cheng Duzhou truly lacked any sense of security.

…

Wait, hold on!

Slap!

Duan Xingye slammed the book shut: “Cheng Duzhou, don’t you try shifting the blame! You failed to clean up your own mess, and now you want me to provide you with protection? Have I given you too much face? Marriage isn’t about blocking rotten suitors for you. Security is something you give yourself—have you ever seen me asking you for security?”

“…”

The muscles in Cheng Duzhou’s jaw tightened slightly.

Only after a long pause did he speak.

“Then let’s forget the past. But now that we’re on a romance show together and everyone acknowledges us as a couple, shouldn’t our interactions go both ways?”

Now that sounded like human speech.

Duan Xingye narrowed his eyes, picked up his phone, and opened Weibo, too lazy to argue with him: “Then what do you want?”

Just wanted him to repost the statement, right?

Cheng Duzhou’s voice suddenly turned faint: “Lock me down…”

“…” Duan Xingye paused, looking over at him.

Cheng Duzhou remained in his face-buried posture, only the crimson on his ears began spreading outward, tinting his sharply defined jaw with a soft blush. His sharp Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he repeated with difficulty: “Lock me down.”

Duan Xingye parted his lips, yet made no sound.

What did he mean?

Before he could fully decipher the meaning, a sudden gust of wind had already swept across the plains, scattering the wild weeds in his heart into utter disarray once more.

Bracing his head against the pillow, Cheng Duzhou freed a hand to slip into his pajama pocket, fumbling around.

One of Duan Xingye’s eyelids twitched. Seeming to realize what was happening, his breathing quietly lost its rhythm in the gusting wind.

Cheng Duzhou pulled his hand out, switched to the other hand, and checked the other pocket.

“Huh? Fuck!”

Under Duan Xingye’s watchful gaze, Cheng Duzhou suddenly sat up on his knees, yanking out the pocket linings to rummage frantically, genuinely panicking.

“Where the fuck is my ring?”

“…………”

Idiot.

***

11:00 PM at night.

Instead of sleeping, the two lingered around the landscape greenery downstairs.

Cheng Duzhou stepped into the bushes to look for the ring.

Duan Xingye stood in a sheltered spot on the steps, holding up his phone flashlight to provide extra light for him.

The freezing wind whistled past.

Bundled in a thick down jacket over his pajamas, Duan Xingye was still shivering and stamping his feet from the cold. He suddenly remembered that not long ago, Cheng Duzhou had been wearing nothing but thin pajamas when Duan Xingye handed him a phone and locked him outside.

Only now, experiencing the outdoor temperature himself, did Duan Xingye realize how inhumane that had been.

He should have at least given Cheng Duzhou an extra coat.

His conscience pricked with faint warmth, raising the flashlight beam a bit higher, though his voice remained lazy: “Still haven’t found it? How about we stop looking?”

With his back to him, Cheng Duzhou straightened his waist, looked around left and right, refusing to accept it: “You’re rich, you’re so amazing.”

Duan Xingye smiled silently, lowering his gaze, pressing the tip of his tongue against the corner of his lips.

Of course they still had to look for it; he was just teasing him.

Duan Xingye had thought the two-year anniversary gift was merely the gigantic bouquet of roses; he hadn’t expected Cheng Duzhou to prepare rings as well.

After filming the first episode of Companionship Along the Way, he had also observed that among the four couples, the other three all wore wedding rings, while their hands were completely bare.

Just as Cheng Duzhou said, now that the whole internet acknowledged them as a couple, their interactions needed to go both ways.

Rings were about marking territory and declaring ownership to each other.

Though to them, it was just a prop for appearing on a romance variety show.

Right at that moment.

Cheng Duzhou stepped out of the bushes and walked back, fiddling with a velvet box in his hands.

Duan Xingye had been leaning against a pillar, but stood up at the sight. His gaze swept over Cheng Duzhou’s cool, pale fingers, which were visibly smeared with damp soil and fallen leaves. Yet it didn’t look dirty.

Walking onto the steps, Cheng Duzhou popped open the lid of the velvet box. “It’s just this kind.”

Resting on the velvet cushion were two platinum-toned matching rings, gleaming with a brilliant luster even in the dim outdoor lighting. The design was clean and elegant, even the ring of pavé diamonds set with subtle restraint.

“Pretty nice,” Duan Xingye evaluated.

Rings like this wouldn’t steal the show and went with any outfit.

Cheng Duzhou exhaled an almost imperceptible breath of relief.

Reaching out, Duan Xingye picked up the slightly smaller one and asked, “Is this mine?”

Cheng Duzhou gave a hum.

The next second.

Duan Xingye slid the ring right onto the ring finger of his left hand.

The corner of Cheng Duzhou’s eye twitched.

“…”

Putting it on yourself.

Where are your manners?

Failing to notice the momentary tightness in Cheng Duzhou’s expression, Duan Xingye spread his fingers. The ring was a perfect fit, growing more pleasing to the eye the longer he looked.

As expected of him, he looked good in everything.

Next, Duan Xingye picked up the other ring, took hold of Cheng Duzhou’s left hand, and naturally brushed away the dead leaves clinging to his fingers.

Before Cheng Duzhou could fully process the sensation, he saw Duan Xingye holding his hand, pushing the metallic band straight down to the base of his finger.

“…”

Cheng Duzhou’s heart expanded, struggling to contract, thumping violently as if in rebellion.

Duan Xingye lifted his head, his face backlit, ambient gleams gliding across his dark pupils, an eyebrow lightly arched.

“I’ve locked you down, Cheng Duzhou.”

After returning home, Duan Xingye hastily turned the central air conditioning in the room up two degrees.

Having ventured deep into the bushes to hunt for the ring, Cheng Duzhou’s clothes and trousers were soaked with rain and smeared with mud; disliking the dirt, he prepared to take a shower.

He stepped into the walk-in closet to grab clothes.

Only a moment later, he cracked the door open and poked his head out: “Duan Xingye, come here for a second.”

Duan Xingye stared at him for two seconds, set down the lifted duvet, and walked over: “What is it?”

Cheng Duzhou glanced back at something and said, “Close your eyes.”

Duan Xingye had already guessed it. His heart itched with an urge to laugh, yet he kept his face strictly deadpan, cooperatively closing his eyes.

Sure enough, accompanied by a rustling sound, a rich fragrance of roses blended with the sweet aroma of Opium drifted over.

Duan Xingye opened his eyes to see the enormous bouquet of roses spread out before him.

Lifting his chin slightly, Cheng Duzhou said calmly, “You probably don’t remember, but tomorrow is our two-year wedding anniversary.”

Duan Xingye reached out to awkwardly cradle the flowers in his arms. Scanning his eyes over them, he looked up: “Oh.”

Just this?

With hands on his hips, Cheng Duzhou suppressed the urge to sigh.

Duan Xingye’s reaction was a massive blow to one’s motivation.

Perhaps the end point of being allergic to romance was total apathy.

Still, given their plastic relationship, it wasn’t surprising in the least.

Cheng Duzhou headed toward the bathroom: “I’m going to shower.”

Leaning his back against the wall, Duan Xingye was busy counting.

Receiving this many flowers for the first time, he was curious just how many blossoms were actually in there.

Arriving at the bathroom door, Cheng Duzhou paused, turning his head to ask casually, “Do you want to wash up?”

Touching Duan Xingye’s hands earlier, they had been freezing. Having stood in the wind downstairs, taking a bath would be much more comfortable if he didn’t mind the trouble.

Looking at the roses, Duan Xingye nodded.

Perhaps surprised by his agreement, Cheng Duzhou paused, thought it over, and asked, “A soak?”

Duan Xingye: “Yeah.”

“I’ll draw the water.”

Rolling up his sleeves, Cheng Duzhou entered the bathroom.

Yet he returned very quickly.

Right in front of Duan Xingye, he plucked three roses from the gargantuan bouquet and carried them into the bathroom.

“…”

Duan Xingye’s scalp prickled.

A rose petal bath.

Could you be any more cheesy!

…

Toward the end of that night, dripping wet fingers intertwined, their gleaming matching rings pressing flush against each other.

The next morning, Cheng Duzhou had to attend the opening press conference for his new movie in a neighboring city, crawling out of bed after less than three hours of sleep.

The lights were on in the walk-in closet. In the pre-dawn darkness before sunrise, the white light was somewhat blinding.

Dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, Cheng Duzhou stood beside the central glass display counter, tying his tie with a groggy head.

Duan Xingye suddenly pushed the door open and drifted in like a wandering ghost, squinting against the harsh light. He caught sight of Cheng Duzhou’s fingers deftly weaving through the dark tie, the ring adorning his ring finger—elegant and sophisticated.

Cheng Duzhou was surprised: “Up this early?”

“Going back to sleep in a bit.” His voice raspy, Duan Xingye shuffled in his slippers toward his own coat rack, felt around the pocket of the coat he wore yesterday, and fished out a jewelry box.

Turning back, Duan Xingye passed by the glass counter.

With a sharp clack, the box was slapped onto the surface.

“Happy two-year anniversary.”

Squinting with barely open eyes, Duan Xingye left behind that airy phrase before walking out.

“…”

Cheng Duzhou stood frozen for a moment. Withdrawing his gaze from the doorway, he picked up the jewelry box and opened it.

Inside rested a pair of diamond-and-platinum cufflinks, gleaming with brilliant, dazzling light.

On Friday, Singer-Songwriter 101 closed its voting channel for the nostalgic classic hits, arriving at the top three classic songs most favored by the audience—the very tracks the three mentors would perform on their solo stages.

Ranking number one was Dawn, the eponymous theme song of an 1980s family drama. Holding the childhood memories of an entire generation, it had garnered a full double the votes of the second-place song.

When the results were announced, Tao Ziyi swiftly claimed the second-ranked song in the group chat, even recommending that Dawn should be sung by Duan Xingye on the grounds that his vocal timbre was suitable.

Jin Zimi sent a laughing emoji, indicating she was fine with whatever.

The production crew had originally worried the mentors might clash over song choices; seeing everyone get along so harmoniously, they breathed a sigh of relief.

Sister Yu, however, felt that something was amiss: “Why isn’t Tao Ziyi competing for it?”

Although the mentors’ solo stage was a showcase, it was also a contest of mentor skill. With Tao Ziyi’s intense competitive drive and his habit of antagonizing Duan Xingye at every turn, how could he hand over the top-trending track on a silver platter?

Twirling a lock of hair around his finger, the platinum ring glinting subtly with the movement, Duan Xingye remarked languidly, “Because Tao Ziyi knows he doesn’t sing as well as me. Count it as having self-awareness.”

Sister Yu: “…”

Little ancestor, could your heart be any more carefree?

Seeing Duan Xingye reply “Confirmed” in the group chat, Tao Ziyi clapped his hands.

“You didn’t want to sing Dawn?” his manager asked, confused. “The audience goodwill is right there; singing that song makes it much easier to stand out among the mentors.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Tao Ziyi smirked. “Only if it can actually be performed.”

The manager was baffled: “What do you mean?”

“Dawn is Old Master Zheng’s song. Old Master Zheng stopped granting all song licenses a year ago; the old gentleman just wants to enjoy his retirement.” Tao Ziyi arched a brow and said, “Most people don’t know this yet, since folks rarely follow eighties classics. I only found out through an acquaintance that even a Heavenly King was rejected when he wanted to cover Old Master Zheng’s classics at his latest concert.”

Hearing this, the manager sighed with regret: “Zheng Qiuhua could be said to have led an entire musical era. Back then, so many TV dramas used his songs—especially writer Kan Dashan, whose adapted works all featured lyrics and compositions by Zheng Qiuhua. The drama Dawn was the pinnacle of their collaboration. Ah… a legendary duo like that never emerged again. But for Old Master Zheng to refuse licensing without sparing even a superstar’s feelings, he truly doesn’t want to be disturbed by the outside world.”

“Exactly,” Tao Ziyi raised his chin. “If even a Heavenly King couldn’t move him, could a web variety show do it? Without copyright, it can’t be performed publicly. Duan Xingye will definitely have to change songs later. Changing then won’t just delay his rehearsal time; he’ll be picking from the leftovers.”

The manager gave a thumbs-up: “You’re truly crafty. Early congratulations on your debut showcase.”

Tao Ziyi smiled.

Music was the main battlefield between him and Duan Xingye; he was determined to win this round on Singer-Songwriter.

By Friday night, Companionship Along the Way, eagerly anticipated by netizens for a whole week, was finally about to start.

With minutes to spare, the [Lu Ye Shu Huai] livestream lit up. Even with just an empty establishing shot playing, bullet comments flooded in frantically.

“I’m here! I’m here! Marching in holding high the flag of Lu Ye Shu Huai!”

“Missed you to death TAT! During the days I couldn’t see President Cheng and Teacher Duan, I could only dig for crumbs in the Super Topic.”

“With Lu Ye Shu Huai blessing us, the bliss of clocking out on Friday has leveled up!”

Promptly at 9:00 PM.

The scene switched.

Cheng Duzhou and Duan Xingye appeared on camera together.

Looking at the background behind them, their streaming spot this time was in front of the sofa, sitting side-by-side on the floor. The distance between them and the audience instantly felt closer, like friends chatting around a hearth. In the background, a familiar dolphin plushie also entered the frame.

The comments rolled past at an eye-dazzling speed.

As the saying goes, strangers at first, familiar by the second round. Knowing the nature of these CP shippers, Duan Xingye’s very first line was: “Whoever brings up suggestive jokes can get out.”

The comment speed visibly buffered for a beat.

Cheng Duzhou held back a smile.

“Anniversary?” Duan Xingye read the viewers’ comments and said, “We spent it together… Details? Who said I’d share details with you? Get out.”

The chat erupted in “hahaha,” thrilled even when being scolded.

Duan Xingye acted very composed during this stream’s interactions, not chased away in anger like the first time.

The production crew knocked on the door right on time, handing over the task card.

When the two tore open the envelope, their hands entered the frame.

“It’s their wedding rings!”

“I was always curious what Lu Ye Shu Huai‘s wedding rings looked like, finally seeing them, so pretty!”

“With the hands on these two, even foxtail grass would look gorgeous.”

“Awesome! Previously, President Cheng and Teacher Duan were so low-profile that the real thing was treated as fake; now they look more and more like a real married couple!”

This time, the envelope had some thickness to it.

Duan Xingye pulled out the task card first, reading aloud:

“House Showcase.”

“Tomorrow, we will embark on a new journey, heading to a traditional southern village to get close to nature. Tomorrow night’s accommodations are already prepared. Please share the photos with the audience; rooms will ultimately be allocated based on each couple’s speed in completing the challenge.”

Bullet comments:

“The pacing is getting faster and faster, competing on speed before even setting off.”

“What challenge is it?”

“Is the theme of this episode going to the countryside? Haha, I can’t imagine Teacher Duan’s rural life.”

Amidst the heated discussion, Duan Xingye pulled out the photos inside the envelope.

He had always cared about living conditions away from home; he looked at each photo first, handed it to Cheng Duzhou, and Cheng Duzhou turned it around to show the audience.

House #1 was a courtyard home with white tiles and black walls, its yard brimming with Chinese roses, looking like a trendy influencer B&B. Even without seeing the interior, one could tell it was luxurious.

House #2 was an ordinary residential home, with a wall-mounted air conditioner in the room.

From there, things began turning increasingly suspicious.

House #3’s yard was overgrown with weeds, and two windows on the house were pitch-black gaping holes.

As for House #4, the photo only showed a duffel bag.

Bullet comments: The production crew is so vicious! Fourth place pitches a tent!

Duan Xingye’s threshold of tolerance stopped at House #1; anything else was out of the question.

A comment floated by:

“What if Teacher Duan ends up with the tent for fourth place?”

Duan Xingye: “Shut up.”

Bullet comments: Hahahahaha!

Duan Xingye packed the photos away: “We must get first place this time.”

Cheng Duzhou left some leeway: “I’ll do my best.”

Duan Xingye corrected him: “Not your best. Must.”

Cheng Duzhou said helplessly: “And if we can’t?”

“Then just you wait.”

“…”

Watching one domineering and fierce while the other was rendered speechless, the laughter in the chat practically spilled over the screen!

Because the gulf between the accommodations was so vast and competition fierce, Duan Xingye cared deeply about what challenge would determine room assignments.

However, the production crew had no intention of revealing it, having the guests pack their luggage first.

This time, everyone packed their own bags.

Duan Xingye retrieved a skincare set from the storage cabinet first, then gathered a stack of towels from the bathroom, followed by a thermos from the kitchen.

Leaning against the wall, Cheng Duzhou watched him walk back and forth, remarking suddenly, “You sure take good care of yourself.”

Stuffing items into his suitcase, Duan Xingye retorted crossly, “It’s called learning from mistakes.”

He wasn’t an idiot; he had simply lacked experience. Whatever Cheng Duzhou had packed for him last time, he had jotted down in his notes app.

Cheng Duzhou watched for a while longer. Convinced Duan Xingye was doing fine, he turned around to pack his own.

Right at that moment.

His phone buzzed.

Duan Xingye picked it up to check.

Someone had tagged him in the production team group chat.

Follow-up Director: [@Seen Teacher Duan, please step outside to confirm your ID information.]

Pausing his packing, Duan Xingye stepped out with his phone.

Before every trip, the crew collected information once to purchase insurance for the guests.

Duan Xingye had thought something went wrong, but upon reaching the hallway outside, the follow-up director, Old Xu, made a secretive “shh” gesture.

Duan Xingye was invited to sit at the makeshift workstation table.

Handing Duan Xingye a cue card, Old Xu smiled warmly: “As long as you get President Cheng to say this line to you, the challenge is considered a success.”

Duan Xingye opened the card, seeing written on it:

[You’re so cute today.]

“…”

He had no energy left to complain about the production crew’s tastes.

Looking up, Duan Xingye asked, “As long as Cheng Duzhou says it, it counts?”

Far too simple.

“Yes,” Old Xu’s eyes crinkled further into crescents as he said, “The prerequisite is that President Cheng cannot know this is your mission. Throughout the mission, you cannot mention the word ‘cute’—not in any language or dialect. The only thing you can do is guide President Cheng into speaking the exact line, without making it look forced.”

“…” With a deadpan face, Duan Xingye said, “Just say you want Cheng Duzhou to find me cute and sigh it from the bottom of his heart, and be done with it.”

Old Xu burst out with a “pfft.”

He seemed to have foreseen long ago that this would not be an easy task for Duan Xingye.

…

Before leaving, Duan Xingye clarified a few final details.

He said, “Can you swap it for another line?”

Holding back his laughter, Old Xu waved his hand: “Nope.”

Duan Xingye asked, “What if I can’t finish it today?”

Old Xu replied, “The deadline is before check-in tomorrow evening.”

Meaning this mission spanned across both today and tomorrow.

Duan Xingye arched a brow: “What if I leak the prompt to Cheng Duzhou after signing off tonight?”

“Please abide by the rules conscientiously. The production team will judge whether cheating is involved based on how natural your performance looks. Once discovered, challenge eligibility is revoked, and you go straight to House #4,” Old Xu said. “Besides, if you fail to make President Cheng say this line before signing off tonight, the crew will swap in a new line for you tomorrow. Revealing it to President Cheng won’t do you any good anyway.”

“…”

The production crew had a million tricks up their sleeves, leaving zero loopholes for guests to exploit.

Taking the secret mission, Duan Xingye returned inside.

Cheng Duzhou asked, “Information confirmed?”

Duan Xingye nodded, absent-minded: “Yeah.”

Tonight, guests had the chance to interact face-to-face with the audience, so Duan Xingye’s mission was kept secret from the viewers as well, preventing bullet comments from alerting Cheng Duzhou.

Returning to the bedroom to resume packing, Duan Xingye’s mind was consumed by the word “cute.”

When he was little, whenever adults took him out, countless older girls and aunties would swarm around him calling him cute.

But growing up, interpersonal relationships hinged on personality. He had never been a cute person.

Looking back, Cheng Duzhou had never once used that word to describe him.

In Cheng Duzhou’s eyes, he had absolutely nothing to do with being cute.

Duan Xingye realized belatedly.

The production crew was deliberately messing with him.

Even if they were husbands, one man didn’t just casually tell another man he was cute.

The audience had been watching Duan Xingye the entire time, clearly noticing his shift in demeanor before and after stepping out.

“What happened to Teacher Duan?”

“Feels like he ran into trouble.”

“Couldn’t be an issue with his luggage again, could it?”

While Duan Xingye was mulling it over, a steaming mug of warm milk was held out before him.

He looked up.

Cheng Duzhou held the mug: “There was still some milk in the fridge.”

He had spotted it upon entering the kitchen earlier. Since they’d be away for two days, the milk would expire by the time they returned, so Cheng Duzhou had simply heated it up.

The bullet comments noted: President Cheng is such a domestic man~

Holding the mug in his palms, Duan Xingye sat cross-legged by the edge of the bed, taking a short break.

Cheng Duzhou glanced at Duan Xingye’s suitcase. Before the thick coat was even placed inside, it already looked nearly full to bursting.

Although Duan Xingye knew to pack essentials, he didn’t know how to fold clothes, wasting a ton of space inside the suitcase.

Squatting down, Cheng Duzhou picked up his clothes and said, “I’ll fold them for you.”

Duan Xingye glanced at the suitcase, let out an “Oh,” and lifted the mug to take a sip of milk.

“Cute” was typically used to describe girls, so what was a cute boy like?

How could someone appear cute?

And what kind of cute counted as cute in Cheng Duzhou’s eyes?

Duan Xingye knitted his brows in thought. Looking down, a delicate layer of froth floated across the milk’s surface.

As his thick eyelashes fluttered, suddenly, an idea struck him.

Duan Xingye took another sip of milk. This time, he deliberately let the froth smudge above his upper lip, forming a milk mustache.

Setting the mug aside, Duan Xingye turned around and dropped onto all fours on the floor: “Cheng Duzhou, look at me.”

Cheng Duzhou looked up at Duan Xingye. He didn’t register it at first glance, but quickly took a second look.

Tilting his face upward, Duan Xingye’s dark, upturned eyes were half-closed, an extra layer of milky-white froth resting over his lips, lending his striking face an inexplicable, childlike innocence.

Unable to hold back, the audience had long begun rolling around ecstatically in the livestream.

“I can’t take this! Too cute!”

“Teacher Duan is so adorable!”

“Screenshotting for a new avatar!”

Cheng Duzhou, however, merely lowered his gaze to the rose-colored lips beneath the milk mustache. The full lower lip looked soft and very kissable, the corners curving slightly upward.

Because of Duan Xingye’s crawling posture, his collar drooped down to expose delicate, fair collarbones, his waist slightly dipping, looking remarkably supple beneath the rumpled shirt.

As Cheng Duzhou watched, his dark eyes grew deep and dim.

Suppressing the urge to lick off the froth, Duan Xingye tilted his face up a bit more and asked, “How is it?”

Saying not a single word, Cheng Duzhou finally leaned forward.

The bullet comments practically screamed:

“Head-pressing squad! Quick! Kiss him!”

“President Cheng, please lick Teacher Duan clean from top to bottom.”

“Is this the scene I’ve been waiting for?!”

Cheng Duzhou paused. Curling his finger, he wiped away the milk froth from Duan Xingye’s lips with one swipe on each side, his eyes cool and indifferent: “Stop being silly.”

“…………”

Wiping the fawning smile clean from his face, Duan Xingye glared at him coldly.

Cheng Duzhou, just you wait.

With the plan foiled, Duan Xingye sat back down to drink his milk.

After folding a couple of garments, Cheng Duzhou suddenly stood up, stepped into the bathroom, and closed the door.

Before long, the door opened again.

“Duan Xingye,” Cheng Duzhou called him. “Help me find something.”

Duan Xingye shot him a glance, stood up reluctantly, and followed him inside.

“Find what?”

Who would have thought that the second he stepped through the door, he was slammed against the wall by Cheng Duzhou.

“?”

Cheng Duzhou’s powerful arms caged him in, pressing tight against him, hot breath spraying against his ear as he murmured with retaliatory malice: