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Entertainment Frontline:

Photos from the Shengxing Annual Gala have been exposed! Cheng Duzhou and his junior label-mate were spotted in the same frame, while his official partner, Duan Xingye, sat off-stage, reduced to nothing but a blurred background board. [Facepalm with side-eye smile]

As soon as the Weibo post went live, the comments skyrocketed.

“Whoa. If you hadn’t mentioned the ‘official partner’ thing, I would have forgotten Cheng Duzhou and Duan Xingye were actually married.”

“Before the event, a reporter asked Duan Xingye if Cheng Duzhou would be attending tonight. He answered that Cheng was still filming in Myanmar. Then, as soon as the show started, Cheng Duzhou was on stage hosting with his junior. Talk about a light-speed slap in the face.”

“Duan Xingye and Cheng Duzhou have held a marriage license for two years, yet they know less about each other’s schedules than their fan site masters do. As expected of the industry’s strongest ‘widowed-style’ business relationship.”

The Shengxing Entertainment gala was still in full swing. On stage, there was singing and dancing; off stage, the lights were psychedelic and dim.

Duan Xingye spent the entire time playing on his phone. Even when the livestream camera swept over him, he didn’t deign to look up. His manager, Sister Yu, secretly poked him several times, but it was useless.

Fortunately, Duan Xingye had a face that could be forgiven for anything—he truly maximized the principle that “Beauty is Justice.”

His black hair featured a few strands of white highlights at the tips. His skin was pale and lustrous. When he lowered his long eyelashes, they cast clean, soft shadows under his eyes. When he lifted his eyelids, he revealed pupils of an extremely deep color. There was a tiny mole on one side of the bridge of his nose; you had to look closely to see it, but once you did, it only added to his charm. His lips were moist, like a rose drenched in water.

Features like these were considered top-tier, high-class beauty even within the entertainment industry. And because of his translucent skin, he projected a unique aura of pure innocence.

“Did you miss the news or something?”

There were other artists at the same table, so Sister Yu leaned in close to ask.

“There is no way President Cheng didn’t tell you he finished filming, right?”

“Maybe I missed it.” Duan Xingye scrolled through Weibo without lifting his head. “After all, I only check my ‘drift bottle’ messages once a year.”

Sister Yu: “…”

So why exactly did you two, who apparently communicate via message-in-a-bottle, get married in the first place?

Duan Xingye was twenty-four this year. Debuting as a singer three years ago, his rise to fame was like riding a rocket. Whenever he released a new song, it inevitably swept the major music charts. He had basically won every domestic award available.

Cheng Duzhou was the same age, yet he was already an actor with ten billion in box office sales and the youngest Best Actor in history. His speed in sweeping up awards was even more ferocious than Duan Xingye’s.

Yet, these two men—who could have easily shone beautifully on their own—had somehow stepped into an incredibly awkward marriage.

If you said it was for business (PR), the marriage didn’t boost their careers; instead, it was frequently criticized online.

If you said it was for love, the number of times they appeared in the same frame post-marriage could be counted on one hand. And every time, they radiated a stiff, suffocating energy that screamed, We aren’t close, but we’re forced to be together.

Shortly after they announced their marriage, Duan Xingye went on a national-level variety show on Fruit TV. The host egged him on to call Cheng Duzhou. The phone rang three times before it was ruthlessly hung up. Even the host, who was an expert at smoothing things over, froze for a full two seconds.

But no matter how “plastic” the couple’s relationship was, they had the certificate. So, fans cobbled together a CP (coupling) name for them—Lü Ye Shu Huai (“Thoughts Written While Traveling at Night”).

It was taken from the title of a poem by Du Fu. Two lines from the poem read:

“Thin grass, a light breeze on the bank; a tall mast, a lone boat (Du Zhou) in the night.”

“Stars hang (Xing) over the broad field (Ye); the moon surges on the great river flow.”

It perfectly encompassed both of their names.

Duan Xingye pressed a finger, the nail bed glowing a pretty pink, against his screen. He suddenly stopped scrolling at a specific comment.

— “Let me tell you a joke. Some trash marketing account is spreading rumors that ‘Lü Ye Shu Huai’ will participate in Season 2 of All the Way With You. Cheng Duzhou is too lazy to even pretend anymore; he didn’t even tell Duan Xingye they were attending the same gala, and you think he’d go on a romance variety show with him? Bold prediction: they aren’t far from a divorce.”

Replies piled up underneath:

” All the Way With You is the top romance variety show in my heart. Don’t let that fake couple come and ruin it.”

“The marketing account is ridiculous. Cheng Duzhou is about to star in a BL adaptation with his junior brother. Where would he find the schedule for a romance variety show?”

“The junior clearly has way more CP chemistry with him!”

“Attached to a super A-list superstar like Cheng Duzhou, anyone else would have blossomed in both film and variety shows by now. Not only has Duan Xingye failed to mooch any resources after marriage, but he also has to endure his husband selling ‘bromance’ and acting in BL dramas with others. He’s really giving off ‘abandoned husband’ vibes.”

The term “Abandoned Husband” was fresh and sharp; it poked sensitively at a nerve.

Duan Xingye lazily lifted his eyelids and finally looked toward the stage.

The two hosts stood shoulder to shoulder.

One of them was the junior brother whom netizens claimed had more chemistry. He happened to be saying a New Year’s greeting.

Thunderous applause filled the venue.

Only Duan Xingye sat motionless.

Seeing the camera sweep toward their table again, Sister Yu squeezed the words out through her teeth: “At least pretend a little.”

Duan Xingye blinked slowly and spoke in a languid tone: “Hands are tired. Can’t be bothered to clap.”

“…”

Sister Yu realized something. “Who offended you?”

Duan Xingye didn’t reply. His gaze moved calmly to the other person on stage.

The man wore a dark black suit. He was tall, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs, making the junior beside him look like a primary school chicken.

His hair had been cut shorter while filming in Myanmar, leaving the superior, rugged lines of his features completely exposed. The fingers holding the cue cards were long and bony, full of restrained abstinence. But if one’s gaze traveled downward, one could see the outline of lean, powerful waist muscles that the shirt couldn’t hide, adding the aura of a wolf-like, tiger-like thug to his demeanor.

Right at that moment.

The man seemed to sense something, and his gaze shifted toward the side of the banquet hall.

Sitting in the shadows where the spotlight didn’t reach, Duan Xingye crashed straight into those pitch-black eyes.

“President Cheng?”

On stage, the junior realized he hadn’t received a response after tossing a line, and the entire venue fell into an abrupt, awkward blank silence for a split second.

Off stage, Duan Xingye’s gaze slipped away lightly, as if he hadn’t put anything in his eyes just now. He whispered to Sister Yu beside him:

“Send me a copy of the contract for the romance variety show.”

All the Way With You was a healing post-marriage observation program. The guests were all celebrity couples. They would travel in a group, complete tasks, and display the small warmth, surprises, and unavoidable annoyances of marriage.

Because the production team emphasized absolute authenticity and used the gimmick of peeking into the private lives of stars—something the public rarely saw—it crushed many veteran variety shows as soon as it aired last year. It became the explosive IP of the year, and all the guests enjoyed a wave of traffic dividends.

Not long ago, All the Way With You had sent an invitation to Duan Xingye’s team.

Sister Yu desperately wanted to snag this high-reputation show.

In an era where traffic was king, Duan Xingye’s biggest problem was that he wasn’t grounded. He was always high up, putting on airs, and couldn’t attract casual passersby fans.

His fans were even more frustrated than his agent. Their idol had the looks and the talent; his work had already reached the summit of the music scene. Yet, the attention he received wasn’t as high as those idols who only had one or two bubblegum pop songs and spent all day tearing each other apart on variety shows.

There was once a comment that hit the nail on the head: “If Duan Xingye put even one-tenth of the heart he puts into music into his publicity, even the Trisolarans would be singing his songs.”

— Duan Xingye clearly had the potential to be famous across the universe.

Unfortunately, aside from his ambition for music, Duan Xingye would avoid business appearances whenever possible. If he could slack off, he would absolutely never work hard. To put it nicely, he was “Buddhist” (chill); in reality, he was just lazy.

Sister Yu hated iron for not becoming steel, but she couldn’t do anything about him. Until this moment, hearing Duan Xingye ask for the romance show contract, she couldn’t believe her ears. “You changed your mind?”

Duan Xingye had simply remembered that the marriage agreement expired in three months.

When that time came, he wanted a dignified divorce. He absolutely would not be stuck with the reputation of an “abandoned husband.”

So, first, he had to tell all the netizens looking forward to the BL drama:

The official pairing might be hard to ship, but as long as the marriage existed, his status was unshakeable. No one would be allowed to step on his head.

If Cheng Duzhou had traffic, only he was allowed to mooch off it. If there was going to be CP hype, Cheng could only hype it with him.

Duan Xingye glanced at the two hosts on stage, his expression as cold as snow. “I’m holding the license for this business. You think I can’t compare to some random cats and dogs outside?”

“Right, right, right! You should have been like this ages ago!”

Although Sister Yu didn’t understand Duan Xingye’s inner thoughts, she was overjoyed.

The Ancestor is finally willing to work!

…

As soon as the gala ended, Duan Xingye left on his own.

Sister Yu got into the car and asked strangely, “Not waiting for President Cheng?”

“Wait for him?”

Duan Xingye lowered his eyelashes and undid his bowtie with slender, lustrous white fingers.

“Do I need to give him face?”

“…” Sister Yu told the driver, “Let’s go. Back to Vanke Metropolis.”

Cheng Duzhou had just returned to the large flat at Vanke Metropolis when he heard a click from the bedroom—the sound of the light being turned off.

“…”

Duan Xingye’s timing was too deliberate.

Cheng Duzhou stood at the bedroom door for a while. He didn’t go in, turning instead to the outer bathroom to shower.

In the darkness, Duan Xingye heard the footsteps moving away. He pulled his phone out from under the pillow again.

The screen lit up, casting a glow over his exquisite, cold brows and eyes.

About fifteen minutes later.

Footsteps sounded outside again.

Duan Xingye stuffed the phone back, rubbed his cheek against the pillow, and closed his eyes to sleep.

Then, the door opened.

Cheng Duzhou entered the bedroom, navigated to the bedside in the dark, and lifted the quilt to get in.

After a rustling sound, the night returned to silence.

Even though Duan Xingye intended to treat Cheng Duzhou like air, sharing a bed meant he inevitably sensed the other person.

Moreover, Cheng Duzhou’s presence had always been intense; it was impossible to ignore.

Duan Xingye gradually found he couldn’t fall asleep. Bored, he let one of his slender calves slide toward the edge of the bed.

However, his unconscious movement acted like a signal flare.

Cheng Duzhou turned his face, his voice growing husky in the night. “Are you awake?”

“…”

Duan Xingye, currently with his back to him, opened his eyes, then closed them again, freezing his small face into silence.

Right at that moment.

A large hand with distinct knuckles climbed onto Duan Xingye’s shoulder and flipped him over to lie flat.

Cheng Duzhou’s tall frame pressed over, the shadow he cast almost completely covering Duan Xingye.

Duan Xingye was impatient. “Ugh, crawl away!”

Cheng Duzhou’s voice sounded like it had been sanded down. “You don’t want to?”

Duan Xingye cursed Cheng Duzhou’s thick-skinned shamelessness in his heart. He had already been annoyed all night, and now his temper flared. “Want a hammer!” (Slang for “Hell no!”)

Borrowing the floating light seeping in from outside the window, Cheng Duzhou locked eyes with those burning, vivid pupils.

Duan Xingye’s voice was clear and bright; he had explosive power when singing, earning him titles like “Little Prince of Iron Lungs” and “Little Prince of Dolphin Notes.” But when they communicated in private, he would still revert to how he was when they were young—his tone unconsciously becoming lazy, the end of every sentence biting onto the soft waxiness unique to a southern accent. It was a bit milky. Especially in bed, he would hum with an unconscious sweetness.

The outside world’s evaluation of Duan Xingye was very unified: impersonal, indifferent, and arrogant.

But in reality, this one at home…

Cheng Duzhou buried his face and kissed the small mole on the side of his nose. “Why are you acting so spoiled?”

“?”

Three hours later, the bedroom door opened again.

Cheng Duzhou walked out wearing a bathrobe and turned off the light in passing.

Duan Xingye was asleep.

It was now two in the morning. The heat hadn’t cooled, and the excitement wouldn’t fade from his nerve endings for a while, so Cheng Duzhou went into the study to look for a script.

He arrived at his desk, only to find two folders placed neatly on the left and right, with a yellow sticky note stuck in the middle.

On it was Duan Xingye’s clean, rounded handwriting.

[Pick one. Sign it.]

The handwriting was cute, but the message was as domineering as ever.

It was hard for Cheng Duzhou not to be curious. He sat down, picked up one of the folders, opened it, and glanced through. It was the contract for All the Way With You.

Cheng Duzhou raised an eyebrow, quite surprised that Duan Xingye wanted him to go on a marriage reality show.

Given their current state, they didn’t seem to have reached the level of ideological awareness required for cooperation.

Furthermore, based on Cheng Duzhou’s understanding of Duan Xingye, the recording process would likely be full of chaos.

Moreover, their private interactions were already unlike a normal couple, let alone displaying them for the public to watch.

Therefore, this variety show was not within his scope of consideration.

Cheng Duzhou put down the contract and picked up the other folder, wanting to see what other choice Duan Xingye had given him.

He flipped it open.

Divorce Agreement.

“…”

__

Author’s Note:

Teacher Duan: Pick one, sign it.

President Cheng: As if I have a choice.