RSDH CH31

Seeing Cheng Duzhou message “I miss you,” Duan Xingye suspected the man was pent-up and losing his mind.

Ever since the night they put on the rings, the two hadn’t discussed “philosophy” together again. Cheng Duzhou had hinted at it twice afterward, but since they were in the middle of recording the romance variety show, Duan Xingye had ignored him, afraid it would mess things up. Later, when Cheng Duzhou joined his film set, they didn’t have a chance to meet. Counting the days, it had been a dry spell of almost half a month.

In the past, Cheng Duzhou had kept up his abstinent persona perfectly well, never complaining of hunger even after four months. Only recently had his true perverted nature been exposed.

Duan Xingye had shown rare kindness by asking if he wanted it.

Only for Cheng Duzhou to hang up on him without a single word.

???

Was it unreasonable for him to have such thoughts, or was he just being full of himself?

A car pulled up in front of the Shengxing building. Xiao Dai poked his head out the window, waving enthusiastically.

Duan Xingye hit the send button on his phone, tapped Cheng Duzhou’s profile picture, went to settings, and deleted the contact.

Executing the entire operation in one smooth motion, he stepped down the stairs, pulled open the door, and got in, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

Xiao Dai shrank his shoulders, not daring to utter a peep.

The first thing Duan Xingye did upon getting in the car was grab the charging cable and plug in his phone, which displayed 98% battery.

Simultaneously, he saw that line in the chat box again: “Duan Xingye, I miss you.”

The heat on Duan Xingye’s face hadn’t yet faded, but the condescending look in his eyes as he stared at his phone was already ice-cold.

Seeing Duan Xingye’s message, Cheng Duzhou felt his skin crawl with tension.

Seen: [Cheng Duzhou, don’t even think about touching me ever again!]

He could smell the gunpowder straight through the screen.

Cheng Duzhou was typing a reply when the van slowly pulled to a stop in front of the hotel.

He locked his phone for the moment, stepped out, listened to a few parting words from the two older men, and then got back into the van.

Pulling out his phone again, Cheng Duzhou pressed a finger to his lips in thought for a moment. He changed his mind, deciding not to tell Duan Xingye the truth.

Him suffering social death alone was enough.

Cheng Duzhou typed: [The signal was bad on that stretch of road just now, it disconnected.]

Send.

A red exclamation mark popped up next to the message bubble.

“…”

…

Enduring the suffocating low pressure in the car, Xiao Dai clutched his phone and scrolled through Weibo.

Suddenly, an unknown number called him.

Afraid the ringtone would disturb Duan Xingye in the back seat, he swiftly hit answer, pressing the phone to his ear near the window and whispering behind his hand: “Hello? Who is this?”

“Excuse me,” a magnetic, flat baritone sounded from the other end. “Is Duan Xingye with you?”

Xiao Dai gasped: “Pres… Pres… Pres…”

He was so shocked that he couldn’t push the word “President” out for a second.

Duan Xingye lifted his eyelashes and glanced toward the front seat.

Xiao Dai turned his head then, looking at Duan Xingye as he spoke into the phone: “Y… Yes.”

Cheng Duzhou asked, “Could you let him answer the phone?”

Just as Xiao Dai was about to say “Please wait a moment,” Duan Xingye closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat.

“…”

Xiao Dai had no choice but to turn back, speaking with awkward apology: “Teacher Duan is sleeping…”

The line went silent for a few seconds.

The man’s voice remained unchanged as he said, “If he wakes up, please let him know I’ll be coming home tonight.”

“Oh, okay, got it.”

Xiao Dai agreed repeatedly and hung up the phone, his CP shipper heart weeping in despair.

He knew Teacher Duan was in a bad mood after work—turns out he had a fight with President Cheng. Right now, Teacher Duan was definitely ignoring President Cheng, otherwise President Cheng wouldn’t have called him instead.

Hoping the two would make up as soon as possible, Xiao Dai gathered his courage and said weakly: “President Cheng says he’s coming home tonight.”

Duan Xingye kept his eyes closed, turning his head slightly to the side.

Like I care.

With Singer-Songwriter 101 premiering this week, there were endless things to handle, making Duan Xingye’s clock-out times consistently late.

It was almost 11:00 PM by the time he got home today, but he still took the time to enjoy a long soak in the tub.

Sitting on the bed applying body lotion to his forearms while scrolling through Weibo, he noticed a massive number of mentions. Only then did he realize that the short film Companionship Along the Way shot last week had been released.

It had been posted two hours ago and already surpassed 100,000 likes—an astounding metric for a variety show’s official Weibo account.

Duan Xingye tapped the video to play.

Surprisingly, they had actually put effort into editing a teaser trailer at the beginning.

It opened with explosive music over a black screen with white text.

[A Love Severed Between Human and Demon]

With a resounding crash, the black background split up and down, revealing a calm, rippling river surface that seemed to conceal surging undercurrents. Amidst the splashing sound of water, an awning boat drifted lazily past.

The camera then tilted upward. As the scene flickered between light and dark like breathing, the back of a figure standing at the bow of the boat was slowly revealed, exuding an aloof, unearthly elegance.

A massive wave of bullet comments struck.

“This opening back shot is too lethal!”

“For this back alone, I’m starting to follow this show tomorrow!”

“It’s Duan Xingye. Recommending newcomers go check out the previous costume test photos.”

Back in the video, the camera shifted to the shore, continuously brushing past newly green willow leaves as it tracked the boat’s movement. The figure in white blurred into the background in the distance, only making viewers itch with anticipation, desperate to see his true face.

Then the camera made a sudden jump, landing on an arch bridge and pivoting down to aim at the boat below.

Another jarring sound effect hit, and white text appeared on a black screen.

[A Fateful Encounter on Broken Bridge, Three Lifetimes Astray]

Scene transition.

The figure in white lifted his eyes, casting a cool, limpid gaze toward the camera.

Another transition.

A monk draped in a kasaya leaned against a stone railing, gazing downward. His expression held a quiet, stoic marvel that concealed a hidden obsession.

The chat exploded in an instant.

“I love this stare-down of the century!”

“Holy shit, both of their eyes are absolutely incredible!”

“Teacher Duan has me completely bewitched.”

“When did Lu Ye Shu Huai become this good to ship?”

Weibo’s traffic was vastly larger than official video platforms. Many netizens who hadn’t watched Companionship Along the Way started shouting that they were diving into the fandom based solely on this clip.

Tossing the body lotion into the drawer, Duan Xingye picked up his phone and flopped onto his stomach on the bed, noticing something was off.

Judging by the pacing of this trailer, it seemed the protagonists had been swapped to him and Cheng Duzhou. Jiang Li hadn’t even appeared in this encounter scene.

The video continued with thrilling, rapid-fire drumbeats, much like an Avengers trailer. Each drumbeat triggered a transition, showcasing individual ensemble shots of every guest, followed by an alternating barrage of text and scenes.

In one scene, Jiang Li and Duan Xingye were walking down an alley, chatting and laughing. The camera rapidly pushed in behind them, revealing half the towering figure of a monk in a kasaya hiding around a corner, spying on the two with dark, brooding eyes.

“…”

Like a total creep.

Duan Xingye watched the increasingly absurd plot unfold.

The final scene was Fahai tearing the lovers apart. The three stood off in the courtyard. The background music grew increasingly intense, the shot-reverse-shot editing speeding up until it was dizzying, interspersed with Fahai lifting Bai Suzhen clean off the ground.

At the exact moment the music and transitions climaxed, the screen suddenly cut to black, plunging everything into dead silence.

A split second later, Cheng Duzhou’s unique magnetic baritone sounded, lazy and slightly breathless, carrying a subtle hint of playful amusement.

“Little demon, you dare defy me.”

As if Fahai was about to whip out iron chains in the next second and permanently imprison the White Snake in a towering pagoda.

The trailer ended. Duan Xingye: “…”

The bullet comments collectively screamed.

“Ahhhhhhh so thrilling!!!”

“So it’s a forced possession trope!”

“Totally giving those spicy romance novel vibes.”

“The production crew really gets what the youth want.”

Companionship Along the Way took an unconventional route, splicing and editing the guests’ filmed footage into a story entirely different from the original lore. Yet judging by the number of likes, the reception was phenomenal.

Duan Xingye casually opened the comments section. Likely because the short film’s protagonists had shifted to him and Cheng Duzhou, the top discussions all revolved around them.

“Got slapped in the face by Lu Ye Shu Huai, tastes so good TAT.”

“They really are sweet, sweet both on and off screen, anyone following the livestream knows.”

“It’s exactly because it’s overly sweet that it feels like fake sugar. Married for two years and still that passionate—can’t you tell it’s a PR stunt?”

“When they’re low-profile, you call it a contract marriage; when they’re passionate, you call it a PR stunt. See yourself out, we don’t serve your kind.”

Duan Xingye exited the app.

Whatever, his and Cheng Duzhou’s loving couple persona was already firmly established online. People could say whatever else they wanted.

Right at that moment.

The sound of the passcode unlocking came from the front door.

Hearing it, Duan Xingye rolled over on the bed and sat up.

A few minutes later.

Cheng Duzhou pushed the door open and walked in.

Seeing Duan Xingye, he paused in thought, and his first sentence was: “You blocked me.”

Duan Xingye looked up, his expression utterly nonchalant: “Oh, my finger slipped. I’ll add you back.”

He opened WeChat. Just as he was about to tap the chat box, he noticed a red dot over his contacts.

Pausing for half a second, he tapped in to check.

Cheng Duzhou had already sent a friend request.

Duan Xingye tapped accept, restoring their chat box to its previous state. He flipped the phone around, showing it to Cheng Duzhou with a face that said “Are you satisfied now?”.

Cheng Duzhou didn’t look at the phone. Jamming his hands into his pockets, he leaned back against the wall and said, “That’s not what I meant. I just wanted to say I didn’t hang up on you on purpose. When you suddenly video-called me earlier, I didn’t have my earphones on, and the director, head screenwriter, and a co-star from the crew were in the car.”

Duan Xingye’s expression shifted subtly, recalling what he had said, only for it to have been broadcast on speaker inside the car… The fingers gripping his phone slowly stiffened.

Cheng Duzhou lowered his eyes, tapping the tip of his shoe against the floor, and said, “I admit I panicked, which is why I hung up the call right in front of them. It was very disrespectful to you, and I apologize.”

Duan Xingye lowered his phone and bowed his head, silently calming his shattered mood.

It was nothing. Just three people.

He hadn’t even batted an eye at thirty million people in a livestream room.

Taking a deep breath, Duan Xingye said, “Okay. I accept your apology.”

Cheng Duzhou was adept at reading Duan Xingye’s mood, thus sensing that the tension in the air hadn’t eased much.

He licked the corner of his lips, shifted his weight to his other leg, and asked, “Is there something else I did wrong?”

Duan Xingye long-pressed the screen, deleted the chat bubble reading “Duan Xingye, I miss you,” and looked up. With a complexion as indifferent as snow, he stated bluntly, “Cheng Duzhou, stop bringing that romance variety show act into our real life. It annoys me.”

His goal was crystal clear: do their promotional job well, get divorced when the time comes. Stop messing around with unnecessary nonsense.

Cheng Duzhou looked at Duan Xingye, suddenly recalling the clean, pristine glass windows at the mall. Duan Xingye had rested his chopsticks in his rice cake bowl, his gaze landing on him for a fleeting second before sliding away casually, as if he hadn’t seen him at all. Like a thin flake of snow, blowing straight into his heart.

Benefiting from the Kan family’s influence, Cheng Duzhou had attended the city’s finest aristocratic schools since childhood, understanding class disparities early on. When he grew up, he became what he considered a successful figure, erasing those disparities, yet the pane of glass separating him from Duan Xingye had always remained.

The so-called “romance variety show act” referred to their lover-like dynamic.

For example, not being allowed to say he missed him.

…Trash WeChat. Can’t unsend messages after two minutes.

Cheng Duzhou raised a hand to unbutton his cuff, saying, “Understood.”

Duan Xingye was momentarily blinded by a bright flash of light. Following the gleam, he noticed that the cufflinks adorning Cheng Duzhou’s shirt were the very pair he had gifted him last week.

Turning to walk toward the bathroom, Cheng Duzhou stopped at the doorway and asked, “Then are you still going to the dinner gathering tomorrow?”

Duan Xingye looked at his back, saying as a matter of fact, “Why wouldn’t I go?”

They had agreed to it.

Cheng Duzhou paused, lowered his eyes, and said softly, “That counts as the romance variety show act too.”

Duan Xingye froze, realization dawning, his expression suddenly faltering.

He blinked tremulously, arguing his case with a lack of breath: “But we promised the other guests that. We can’t go back on our word, can we? Cheng Duzhou, you might be capable of such shameless behavior, but I’m certainly not. Even if you don’t want to go, I have to go on your behalf tomorrow.”

Duan Xingye attempted to blur the core issue, but Cheng Duzhou’s deep baritone remained calm: “Then why did you agree to it?”

Taking advantage of Cheng Duzhou’s back turned to him, Duan Xingye bit his lower lip in frustration.

At the time, seeing Cheng Duzhou aggressively declare his status to the livestream, out of some indescribable mood—or perhaps moved by his earnest attitude—he had felt suddenly magnanimous, deciding there was no need to haggle over every little detail with Cheng Duzhou, and occasionally accompanying him to a friend’s gathering wouldn’t hurt.

Lowering his dark eyes, Duan Xingye pondered for a moment before straightening his spine again: “It’s written in the marriage agreement! In necessary circumstances, both parties are obligated to adhere to a married couple’s behavioral model to prevent others from suspecting anything.”

The marriage agreement had been drafted by Duan Xingye, explicitly including this clause purely to placate his grandfather.

But “necessary circumstances” was a very broad term, defined entirely at Duan Xingye’s discretion.

Hearing this, Cheng Duzhou turned around: “What…”

He knew they had signed an agreement after getting their marriage certificate, but he hadn’t known it contained this clause.

The agreement Duan Xingye had tossed at him was twenty-three pages long in total. He hadn’t finished flipping through it; after reading the first two lines, he skipped to the end and signed.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was that this was the first time he had heard Duan Xingye mention the agreement, and that Duan Xingye remembered its rules and conditions so clearly.

Cheng Duzhou was baffled. Wasn’t that agreement just a formality?

Agreement or not, he wouldn’t do anything after marriage to put Duan Xingye in a difficult position. Why was Duan Xingye treating it like gospel?

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, Duan Xingye slapped his knee, his dark eyes bright: “You have a problem with that?”

Cheng Duzhou’s eyes dimmed slightly, turning back around: “No.”

Duan Xingye secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

He wouldn’t allow Cheng Duzhou to blindly flirt with him off-camera. In his view, it broke the rules, and he disliked having his emotions tethered to Cheng Duzhou. Yet he had unwittingly retreated his own boundaries by a fraction.

Even if it was a double standard, his double standard was backed by solid reasoning.

—”Is there a clause in the agreement saying I’m not allowed to miss you?”

The sudden, magnetic baritone caught Duan Xingye off guard, sending his heart into a momentary, erratic sprint.

…This exact feeling.

…It was so annoying.

Cheng Duzhou turned around, walked back to the edge of the bed, stared him down, and arched a brow: “Is there?”

Duan Xingye looked up at the towering figure blocking his view. His brain felt a bit numb, unsure what this had to do with the agreement, and more importantly, what was the point of missing him anyway?

He shook his head slightly.

“Then I didn’t violate the rules.” Cheng Duzhou knelt on one knee onto the bed and cupped Duan Xingye’s face.

Leaning close, staring straight into those dark eyes, he said, “Therefore, you had no grounds to block me.”

Duan Xingye pressed his lips together lightly, unable to look away, feeling he ought to argue back with something, but what came out instead was: “What do you want?”

“I don’t need your apology.” Cheng Duzhou’s presence was overpowering. “But I want a little compensation.”

Duan Xingye: “What…”

Cheng Duzhou lowered his head, pressing against the rose-tinted lips. Driven by a demand for compensation, and perhaps a touch of grievance that had morphed into rebelliousness, he delivered the kind of kiss normally reserved for when they were in bed.

Duan Xingye’s brain completely shut down.

The two carried on like this for an unknown stretch of time.

Duan Xingye pulled back slightly, his gaze no longer as innocent as moments before.

He cast a complicated look at Cheng Duzhou’s lips, then pursed his own, feeling the hot, swollen throb, his voice low, raspy, and breathless: “Don’t go so hard… we have to be on camera tomorrow.”

Still worrying about being on camera at a time like this.

Cheng Duzhou’s brow furrowed, enraged: “You career-obsessed freak!”

Yet when the kiss fell once more, it was very light, very polite.

Like a puppy taking a gentle nibble of cake.

The next day, Duan Xingye woke up early, but didn’t wake his roommate beside him.

After leaving the house, he got in the car and headed to the neighboring province for the Singer-Songwriter recording.

Enjoying a rare morning off, Cheng Duzhou slept straight through until eight o’clock.

The first thing he did upon getting out of bed was head to the study, squatting in front of the safe to dig out that prenuptial agreement.

Cheng Duzhou hadn’t paid the agreement any mind when he signed it, and hadn’t spared it a single glance since.

Only after hearing Duan Xingye mention it last night did he remember to dig it out for a study session. As long as something wasn’t expressly forbidden in the agreement, it wouldn’t count as crossing the line.

Like an outlaw searching for legal loopholes, Cheng Duzhou read down line by line, only now realizing just how meticulously Duan Xingye had drafted the agreement. Clauses like “No eating cilantro when dining together” and “No furry pets allowed in the house” had all been squeezed in.

Cheng Duzhou read carefully, finally reaching the last page, his finger tracing over the first line of the final clause.

[The effective term of this marriage is two years, commencing from the date of certificate registration…]

Cheng Duzhou suddenly blanked out, as if he had lost the ability to read in an instant, reading that line back and forth several times over.

Once he finally confirmed there was no mistake, he pulled his long legs up, squatting on the chair with a scowl: “Fuck, why is it only two years…”

Cheng Duzhou glanced at the signature block, bearing both his and Duan Xingye’s names side by side.

It was already legally binding.

“…”

He raised a hand, pinching his knuckles, freezing in sudden panic: “There’s only two months left?!”

__

Author’s Note:

[Your marriage duration is insufficient]

President Cheng: I thought it was for a lifetime TAT

Teacher Duan: Heh, who’s spending a lifetime with you?