GRMFBS CH90

The entire family took turns showering Zhan Yan with meticulous, tender loving care. Zhan Yan repeatedly gave his word that he really hadn’t been triggered or traumatized, that his life was exceedingly happy, and that everything was wonderful.

Still utterly unconvinced, Zhan Yan privately messaged his sister: [Never mind them, but why you? Isn’t that your own art piece?!]

Zhan Suiru replied with a meme of a hand rubbing a kitten’s head.

[You’re so young. Appreciate the things you should be appreciating at your age, and stop overthinking this kind of stuff.]

Having witnessed Ji Lele’s artistic appreciation, how could she not understand Xiao Ran’s sculpture?

Yet they were all people who had walked out of an apocalypse, bearing its lingering shadows. For someone Zhan Yan’s age, why should he have to understand suffering?

Surrounded by a wave of gentle, caring concern from his family, Zhan Yan had spent all his energy frantically explaining himself. Setting his phone down with a sigh of relief, he looked up and noticed Gu Jiancheng sound asleep, only then remembering that he hadn’t had the chance to bring up taking a classmate home over the break.

Gu Jiancheng lay reclined on the armchair facing upward. The winter sunlight slipped through the gaps in the canopy, casting a thin golden glaze over his handsome features. His lips were pressed lightly together, making their lines sharper than usual and giving him an edge of danger.

Resting his chin on his arm atop the small table, Zhan Yan tilted his head to look at him. After brooding for a bit over how to introduce this good-looking boyfriend of his to the family, he found himself unconsciously counting Gu Jiancheng’s eyelashes.

Gu Jiancheng’s eyelashes were quite long, but not curled; they extended straight outward. At times, the light would cast a split shadow from them into his eyes, making his gaze seem even more profound and difficult to read.

Yet whenever he looked at Zhan Yan, the fiery light in those dark pupils would always burn straight through that layer of shadow.

Gu Jiancheng’s eyelashes trembled.

He opened his eyes.

Zhan Yan had been resting his head on his arm, watching him sideways. Seeing him wake up, he propped his chin in his hand. “You’re awake?”

Now that he was awake, they had to talk about heading home to meet the parents; it couldn’t be stalled forever. But how should he say it?

Zhan Yan’s gaze shifted evasively, one side of his face marked with a red crease from leaning on his arm.

Gu Jiancheng reached out and gently rubbed it with his thumb, the skin beneath his fingertips smooth and cool.

He had to leave right away, but he needed to explain it clearly to Yan Yan. How on earth was he supposed to explain this?

One was agonizing, and the other was in an awkward bind; neither spoke first.

“Are you cold?” Gu Jiancheng took Zhan Yan’s hand. While his own palm was warm, his fingertips were slightly cool.

With Zhan Yan’s fingertips gathered inside Gu Jiancheng’s warm palm, it felt nice and toasty. “I’m fine, just been sitting for too long. Moving around will fix it.”

Gu Jiancheng kept his eyes half-lowered without speaking, looking as though he were torn over a difficult predicament. Zhan Yan had never seen him look like this before.

He waited a little while, but Gu Jiancheng still said nothing.

“What’s the matter? Did you have a nightmare?” Zhan Yan twitched his fingers, his warmed-up fingertips scratching twice against Gu Jiancheng’s palm.

Gu Jiancheng closed his palm tight to stop him from fidgeting. He looked up at Zhan Yan, his eyes holding a rare moment of hesitation. “Yan Yan, something came up on my end. I might not be able to head back with you.”

A spark of pleasant surprise flashed in Zhan Yan’s eyes. “Really? That’s totally fine!”

Gu Jiancheng: “…”

“Did you not want to bring me home in the first place!”

“How could that be? It’s just… it’s just… I wasn’t ready yet!”

Feeling deeply aggrieved, Gu Jiancheng demanded cuddles.

Zhan Yan successfully coaxed his clingy boyfriend with a hug and a kiss.

After greeting the production crew, Gu Jiancheng took his leave. The extras’ scenes were basically all wrapped up anyway, so missing one person made no difference. Besides, extras were paid daily, so people were coming and going all the time.

Zhan Yan beamed as he saw Gu Jiancheng off, breathing a huge sigh of relief inside. But once he walked back onto the set, everything suddenly felt dull and tasteless.

Filming was just like that; it was novel for the first couple of days. But why on earth had he been happily lingering around before without feeling bored at all?

After enduring another half day, Zhan Yan decided he couldn’t stay on set any longer. He booked a train ticket home and left as well.

Ji Lele bid a reluctant, emotional farewell to Zhan Yan. In his mind, Zhan Yan thought: You’re just coveting my jie’s sculpture, that’s all!

Wrapped in a down jacket and dragging his suitcase along, he stepped into the train carriage amid the station’s boarding chimes. After stowing his luggage and taking his seat, a stranger sat down in the seat beside him a moment later.

Zhan Yan flashed a polite smile, then turned his head to look out the window.

He let out a quiet sigh in his heart.

As the high-speed rail gained speed, the scenery outside blurred into motion. Bored, Zhan Yan scrolled through his phone and saw someone posting a picture in the university group chat.

The photograph had been taken in late summer or early autumn. The sky was vast and open, the earth undulating with wild, vibrant greenery in the breeze. In the distance, a group of people could be seen gathered by the edge of the field, with two young men standing on the ridge between the plots.

The person who posted the photo asked: This photo won a photography award. Was this taken at our school?

It looks like it, but with just a field it’s hard to be certain. It’d be easier if there were an iconic landmark building.

I think so too, but the caption underneath says ‘Photographed in the countryside of Village X.’

Guo Jiang popped up: It is our school.

How are you so sure? If you have proof, I’ll message the competition committee; they mixed up their notes.

Guo Jiang: Hey, isn’t this the day we went pig-catching?

That day, our group’s experimental pig escaped. It charged into the experimental plots and rooted through someone’s vegetable patch. It took so much effort to catch it.

Look next to that crowd of people—isn’t there a pig blocking the view?

Hahahahahaha!

The chat topic instantly derailed into gossip about pig-catching.

Hey, was it that junior in our department who can subdue a pig with one hand who helped catch it?

Guo Jiang: Yeah, the meme about ‘subduing a pig single-handedly’ originated from that incident with us.

The other junior can literally drive off beasts with a stamp of his foot; his knack for shooing animals away is pure magic!

Another senior from the School of Agriculture chimed in: His name is Zhan Yan, right? If someone with that kind of talent came to our School of Agriculture, that would be amazing!

Watching them discuss his and Gu Jiancheng’s names side by side, Zhan Yan quietly saved the award-winning photograph. Using two fingers, he pinched and zoomed in; the screen captured the backs of two figures standing shoulder-to-shoulder on the field ridge.

After gazing at it for a while, he shrank the photo back down and posted it to his WeChat Moments without any caption.

Outside the window, the midwinter gray and white stretched into long bands of color. Zhan Yan rested his cheek in his hand, facing the window. Before long, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

A few hours later, the train pulled into the station. Because his return today was so sudden, Zhan Yan didn’t call his sister to pick him up, taking a taxi home instead.

Nobody was home. Both his parents were on business trips, which he already knew. His sister’s work schedule was unpredictable, but his older brother should have already returned from his fondant cake class.

Zhan Yan checked his watch; it was already past six in the evening. Normally, his brother would have closed the shop and arrived home by this time.

He sent Zhan Jinli a message to ask about the situation. His brother didn’t reply right away. After checking the fridge, Zhan Yan decided to head out to buy some food.

Before he could even make it out the residential compound’s main gate, he ran into their neighbor, Officer Zhao Wen.

Today was the weekend, and Zhao Wen was off duty. She was hurrying outside as if dealing with an urgent matter.

“Wenwen-jie?” Zhan Yan greeted her.

Zhao Wen stopped in her tracks, looking slightly surprised to see him. “You’re back?”

Zhan Yan: “Just got back today.”

Zhao Wen: “Perfect timing! Come with me, your brother got cornered and mobbed by people. Hurry, let’s go rescue him!”

Zhan Yan: “Huh?”

On the way, Zhao Wen hurried to explain the situation to Zhan Yan.

The Bakery had blown up online, and Zhan Jinli was cornered inside, completely unable to get out.

Given his personality of never speaking to people, he had no way of breaking free on his own, so he had turned to his younger sister, Zhan Suiru, for help. But unluckily, Zhan Suiru wasn’t at home and wouldn’t be back for at least another two hours. Terrified that by the time she got back her brother would have been squashed into a dried salted fish, she called Zhao Wen to step in.

Zhan Yan: “…Even my ge’s cake shop can go viral?”

Had some brand-new infectious disease broken out that warped people’s taste buds into rabid sugar addicts?

Zhao Wen: “I’m completely baffled too!”

She had been a victim of Zhan Jinli’s cakes before, after all.

When the two of them rushed over, they found a huge crowd already clogging the outside of the cake shop. Quite a few people were holding cameras and selfie sticks, and some were even livestreaming.

Zhan Yan: “…Has everyone finally lost their minds?”

Zhao Wen: “I genuinely can’t understand it…”

Zhan Yan made a split-second decision: “Come on, let’s head in through the back kitchen door!”

Circling behind the street, the two entered the kitchen. Zhan Yan grabbed a set of his brother’s chef whites to change into, tore open two masks, and handed one to Zhao Wen:

“Take my ge out through the back. I’ll stay in the shop.”

With this many people gathered outside waiting, abruptly shutting down the shop could easily incite a mob mentality. Zhan Yan decided to step in as a temporary clerk.

The two pushed open the door connecting the kitchen and the front of the shop—and nearly couldn’t get it open, as several people were crowded right against the doorway.

Wearing a mask, Zhan Jinli was cornered behind the cash register. From his expressionless face, Zhan Yan could read a sense of pure, calm despair.

Worthy of being a police officer, Zhao Wen smoothly reeled Zhan Jinli out from the crowd and pulled him into the back kitchen.

Zhan Yan breathed a sigh of relief and began handling the shop’s situation.

There wasn’t much leftover stock in the shop, so everything sold out very quickly. Among this crowd, the customers who came purely out of curiosity were easy to deal with; once they bought their items, they took a photo to check in and left. It was the internet influencers who were truly annoying—they clustered together and refused to leave, peppering him with a barrage of questions.

Zhan Yan: “I’m sorry, I’m not the owner. I don’t know anything about what you’re asking.”

The group still wouldn’t let him off the hook. While brushing them off, Zhan Yan skillfully coaxed the full story out of them: his brother’s shop had blown up because a post online had suddenly gone viral, combined with the new fondant cakes his brother had just rolled out. The photos along with the post had been shared like crazy, leading to this madness.

Once everything in the shop was completely sold out, Zhan Yan let out a long breath: “I’m sorry, we’re out of stock. Please don’t wait any longer, everyone; we’re closing up!”

After going through immense trouble to fob everyone off, Zhan Yan slammed the shop doors shut and locked them.

Returning to the back kitchen, his brother still wore that expression of calm despair, looking utterly pitiful. Zhao Wen was using her phone to search for the viral post, periodically letting out bursts of muffled laughter. Every time she wanted to say something to Zhan Jinli, she remembered his social anxiety and swallowed it down, left with no choice but to keep giggling to herself.

Zhan Yan gave his brother a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Everyone’s gone.”

Through his dead, hollow eyes, Zhan Jinli conveyed a single question: There’s still tomorrow.

When on earth was the hype around this shop going to die down?

Zhan Yan: “…”

He had no choice but to pat him again.

Turning toward Zhao Wen, he asked, “Wenwen-jie, forward a copy to me.”

Zhao Wen: “Pfft-hahahaha! Sure, I’ll send them all to you!”

Zhan Yan pulled out his phone and started reading the post that had made the cake shop go viral.

The post was from several months ago and had only circulated within a small circle back then. For some reason, it had recently been dug back up and reposted by several big influencers, with the highest repost count nearing a hundred thousand.

The title of the post:

Regarding the time I made a wish to strike it rich, ended up getting hit by a car, and received a massive compensation settlement.

Zhan Yan: ?

After skimming through the post, he couldn’t resist looking over at Zhan Jinli.

His brother actually possessed this kind of miraculous function?

His gaze was far too blatant.

With a deadpan expression, Zhan Jinli reached out, grabbed his head, and forcefully turned it back around.

Zhan Yan: “…Pfft.”