RBNR Ch28: Don’t love too much

Without knowing what Feng Chengyu had done, after that single visit of his, Qin Bao’s grounding order was lifted, and his phone was returned to him. The more hypocritically double-standard his family acted, the angrier Qin Bao became.

Having starved for several days, Mama Tao was afraid Qin Bao might ruin his stomach and prepared some light porridge and side dishes for him. After eating in a rush, he hurried out the door in an anxious blur—and surprisingly, not a soul moved to stop him.

A phone call came through. It was the friend he had met at An Qingyan’s pool party, asking why he hadn’t shown up for the audition.

“Once your portfolio was forwarded, both the casting director and producer were very interested,” that friend said. “Yet you actually ghosted the audition that day?”

Qin Bao hadn’t gone because he was locked up at home.

It was impossible to tell the truth, so he could only fabricate an excuse: “I happened to fall ill a few days ago…”

“Are you better now?” the friend asked. “I put in a good word for you that day. They said they’re willing to give you another chance. If you’re interested, I’ll schedule a time for you.”

Qin Bao said, “Yes, I’m interested. Thank you.”

The friend urged, “My dear supermodel, absolutely do not stand me up this time!”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Qin Bao said hastily. “Regardless of whether it pans out or not, dinner is on me.”

When one path is blocked, there is always another.

Composing his emotions, Qin Bao decided to take a shot at this alternate route.

Yet barely half an hour later, the friend called back: “Um… Qin Bao, did you offend someone?”

Qin Bao: “What do you mean?”

The friend said, “Last time when you missed it, they felt it was quite a shame and explicitly said they were willing to wait for you once more. But why did everything suddenly change? The moment they heard you wanted to re-audition, they flatly refused without giving even a shred of face.”

Qin Bao gripped his phone tight, an ominous premonition seizing his chest: “Did they give a reason?”

The friend said, “Only that someone reached out from above.”

Qin Bao understood what had happened immediately.

A single phone call from his grandfather, and this opportunity had vanished into thin air, just like his contract with SISI.

Standing on the street, Qin Bao fell into a daze.

He was completely unemployed.

The dream he had chased for so many years was gone.

He loved the runway so much; he loved performing so dearly. Magazines had repeatedly commented that he was born for the catwalk. He didn’t want to live an obscure, ordinary life like the vast majority of people. Nor did he want to end up like Ms. Rong, retreating at age forty to an unloved industry to start all over again.

Yet now, even this roundabout path to rescue his career was cut off.

What was the point of running out?

Looking at the bustling stream of pedestrians, he suddenly had no idea where to go or what to do.

Previously, he had assumed that turning into an adult meant he could make his own calls. Now it was painfully clear that shackles didn’t dissolve with age—his thinking had simply been too naive. In truth, as long as he remained a child of the Qin family, those shackles would linger forever.

He desperately wanted someone to talk to.

He bought a plane ticket and flew straight to Qinan.

School had let out, and shadows drifted past the gates of Qinan High School. Faces around his age were all brimming with longing for the future, whereas his own future had been completely walled off.

Qin Bao wore a face mask, yet because of his outstanding presence, students kept glancing in his direction. He randomly stopped a student to ask for Xu Tangzhou’s whereabouts.

Just like Qin Bao, Xu Tangzhou was very famous at school; practically nobody didn’t know him.

Qin Bao quickly located Xu Tangzhou’s classroom and peered secretly inside.

Most of the people in the classroom had already cleared out. Xu Tangzhou was lying slumped over his desk alone, gnawing on the end of a pen with knitted brows, seemingly stumped by some problem. He didn’t even notice Qin Bao walking over.

Qin Bao took a seat right in front of him, resting his hand on the arm of the chair, and said in a low voice, “Hey.”

Xu Tangzhou raised his head, startled nearly out of his skin.

Qin Bao copied the finger-heart gesture the other boy had made previously: “Surprise!”

“Holy shit!” Xu Tangzhou’s eyes lit up instantly, brimming with excitement. “Why are you here?”

“Felt like coming, so I came.” Qin Bao pulled down his mask. “A surprise inspection to see if a certain someone’s studies have improved. Seems not—this question type shows up on tests all the time, why still don’t you get it?”

Xu Tangzhou: “…”

Qin Bao took the pen and solved it in just a few strokes: “Look, isn’t it simple? Do you get it now?”

Xu Tangzhou studied it closely for a while: “I get it now. But I don’t think it’s simple; it’s only simple for people like you. What am I going to do… I can’t even solve this, I’m completely doomed.”

As he spoke, he looked at Qin Bao: “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in Danlong today?”

Qin Bao said, “The itinerary was canceled.”

Xu Tangzhou found it odd: “Is that so? But don’t you have work tomorrow too? How do you have the free time to run all the way to Qinan?” Then he cupped Qin Bao’s face in his hands. “Did you lose weight?”

Qin Bao dodged his gaze, acting cool: “I’m on a diet.”

Xu Tangzhou quickly packed his things. The two walked out of the school and strolled along the path by the river, preparing to grab a bite at the night market street.

Qin Bao lit a cigarette and handed one to Xu Tangzhou: “Care to keep me company?”

Knowing full well he had something weighing on his mind, Xu Tangzhou took the cigarette and let him light it, only to cough violently from the smoke.

“Forget it, don’t force it.” Qin Bao snatched the cigarette back and tossed it into a trash can. “Don’t pick up bad habits from me.”

Xu Tangzhou choked until tears welled up, looking thoroughly ruffled: “When are you leaving?”

Seeing this, Qin Bao put out his own cigarette as well, saying, “Tonight, probably.”

“Then I’m skipping evening self-study. We can grab food later.” Xu Tangzhou grabbed him by the arm, dragged him over to a large boulder, and patted the stone. “Sit down. What happened? Confess everything to me from start to finish, honestly.”

Qin Bao used the classic opener: “Well… I have a friend.”

Xu Tangzhou shoved him.

Both of them burst out laughing.

With Xu Tangzhou by his side, the gnawing loneliness finally ebbed away. He didn’t even know how he had weathered these past few days alone.

Qin Bao cleared his throat: “Zhouzhou, I’m out of a job.”

They sat on that boulder for over an hour. Qin Bao discovered that baring his soul to his best friend wasn’t nearly as difficult as he had imagined.

Their similar backgrounds allowed Xu Tangzhou to grasp every single one of his points and empathize with each of them.

“How old are you right now? How could you possibly get married?” Xu Tangzhou was furious. “Putting aside whether you have any emotional foundation, the moment you refuse, they take an axe to your career? That’s so despicable! Do they have any idea how grueling it was for you to get to this stage? I only ever thought your grandfather was strict; I didn’t know he was this backward and feudal! You are an independent human being with your own thoughts, not some object!”

Qin Bao: “…”

Xu Tangzhou: “Aiyah, you know what I mean.”

Night had fallen. Qin Bao tilted his head up to gaze at the round moon in the sky, in no mood to trade quips.

Xu Tangzhou asked, “If you just tough it out and flatly refuse his arrangements—once Feng Chengyu marries someone else down the road and the whole thing blows over, it’s impossible for them to keep forcing you, right? Would you still have a chance to return to the runway then?”

After all, time heals all wounds; given enough time, many things might shift.

“After this circus, no agency would dare sign me unless I leave the planet,” Qin Bao shook his head. “The point is, I’ve basically been driven into a dead end, and I have no idea what to do.”

Xu Tangzhou: “That Feng Chengyu talks a big game. He definitely has the power to help you, but I seriously wonder—what is he after?”

Qin Bao had raised that exact question that night as well.

He had asked Feng Chengyu: “What are your terms?”

Feng Chengyu had said: “No terms. Just consider it me fulfilling my grandfather’s dying wish.”

Hearing this response, Xu Tangzhou was flabbergasted: “It’s the year 2203; there are actually still people in this world blinded by this brand of foolish filial piety.”

Qin Bao felt the same way.

Xu Tangzhou pondered for a moment. His brain, hopelessly blocked when it came to schoolwork, dared to dream boldly in this department: “I’m starting to suspect he might actually like you.”

Qin Bao: “…………”

Xu Tangzhou said, “Think about it—he sends you candy, race tickets, flowers, and is willing to help you unconditionally. Why don’t you just ask him straight out? If he likes you, it’s an absolute win-win for you.”

“Enough out of you, you hopeless romantic.”

His face burning hot, Qin Bao reached out and flicked Xu Tangzhou’s forehead.

“He sent me things because I sent things first! He assumed I knew about the childhood betrothal and was merely being polite!”

“You’re so hurtful. I tossed out a casual guess and you resort to personal attacks.” Xu Tangzhou covered his forehead, saying meekly, “Now I don’t even dare mention an even wilder, more absurd idea I had.”

Qin Bao: “Say it out loud first. I won’t hit you.”

Xu Tangzhou: “Look, flipping the perspective, your crush happening to be your fiancé—isn’t that just like someone handing you a pillow when you’re dozing off? Setting aside what he’s thinking for a second, agreeing to it wouldn’t be a loss for you anyway. Of course, I’m not saying you have to get hitched right this second; I mean you could stop butting heads with your grandfather for now…”

It was indeed wild and absurd.

An unforeseen path had laid itself out.

Qin Bao frowned: “Are you teaching me how to freeload off him?”

“Don’t make it sound so crude.” Xu Tangzhou waved a hand. “If you want pure romance, you can totally work your charm and find a way to make him fall for you, right?”

Hearing that, Qin Bao snorted: “It’s not pure romance anymore; I don’t care for it.”

There it was.

A textbook case of self-imposed moral restraint combined with severe emotional germaphobia.

Xu Tangzhou snapped back to full seriousness in a second: “Ordinary people never run into a predicament like yours, so do whatever you want to do. Don’t hold yourself to such impossibly high standards. As long as you aren’t committing treason or burning houses down, so what if you freeload? In my book, you will always be in the right. No matter what choice you make, I will back you up.”

“That’s more like it.”

Qin Bao pulled back the hand poised to flick him again.

After a beat, Qin Bao murmured, “Cooling down and thinking it over, from Feng Chengyu’s perspective, he actually didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who forgot about it. He had to honor the betrothal while enduring my scolding. I said so many awful things, but most of the time I wasn’t truly aiming them at him.”

Afraid of another flick to the forehead, Xu Tangzhou leaned back slightly: “Don’t fall too deep.”

Qin Bao blushed with embarrassment: “I’m only saying this in private to you! I’m just being kind! I’d never bring it up to his face. You have no idea how arrogant that man is; he’s not pitiful in the slightest.”

Xu Tangzhou quipped, “Isn’t his arrogance the very thing you like about him!”

Qin Bao: “How many times do I have to say it? I don’t like him anymore!”

Xu Tangzhou: “Fine, fine, got it, got it.”

They headed to the rice noodle shop Xu Tangzhou frequented.

Surrounded by students, Xu Tangzhou whispered, “It’s terrifying. We’re actually discussing how to dodge a forced marriage at our age.”

Hitting the nail on the head, the words struck Qin Bao right in his sore spot, and a sharp sting rose to his nose.

Xu Tangzhou handed him a napkin: “Are you going to cry?”

Qin Bao stiffened his tone: “I am not. Slurp your noodles and shut up.”

When parting, Qin Bao hailed a cab to the airport alone. Brandishing his university student status, he lectured Xu Tangzhou: “Study hard, don’t worry about my mess, and stop thinking about your older brother all day long. Studying is way more important than dating! If you fail to get into college, watch me come to Qinan and kidnap you!”

After the car started, he watched Xu Tangzhou’s school-uniformed figure waving through the rear window, reminded of himself a year ago. Back then he had yearned to grow up; right now, he wished with all his heart he could turn back the clock.

After two or three days of deliberate reflection, Qin Bao ultimately dialed that unsaved number. Backed into a corner, between career and pride, the scale tipped with blinding clarity.

After more than a dozen rings, the call finally connected.

“Feng Chengyu,” he said stiffly. “It’s me.”

Coming back knocking after rejecting him—if Feng Chengyu dared utter a word of ridicule, or even let out a single chuckle, he would hang up instantly.

“I know.”

It was dead quiet on Feng Chengyu’s end.

Qin Bao got straight to the point: “What you mentioned that day, are there truly no conditions attached?”

Feng Chengyu: “None.”

“Since you called it a ‘deal,’ how could there be no conditions?” Qin Bao said. “Free things are always the most expensive. Don’t try to screw me over.”

“Alright, there are a few requests, if you consider them conditions,” Feng Chengyu said. “If you are interested in my proposal, we can talk.”

Qin Bao asked suspiciously, “What good does helping me do for you?” The more he probed, the more baffled he became: “Are you that desperate to fulfill a dying wish that you’re willing to marry someone you don’t love?”

Feng Chengyu didn’t speak for several seconds; Qin Bao almost thought he had stepped away.

Soon, however, Feng Chengyu’s voice resonated again: “Feelings can be nurtured. As I said, perhaps after we marry, we can get along very harmoniously.”

Qin Bao hated listening to people paint rosy futures; he dealt in realities.

Hesitating for a long while, he finally exhaled a breath and proposed, “Can we talk? I’m free at four in the afternoon.”

The bristling boy threw the exact words back at him, refusing to take a loss even in the slightest.

“Alright,” Feng Chengyu said. “I’ll come find you.”

Qin Bao hung up on the spot: “Bye!”

Feng Chengyu slipped his phone into his pocket, turned out of the corridor, and stepped into the thousand-seat assembly hall.

The meeting had not yet officially commenced. Countless eyes were observing him, and seeing him in an apparently splendid mood, people began whispering among themselves, wondering what wonderful thing had occurred.