Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Song Yuan flinched.

He absolutely couldn't let Gu Jingchi find his mannequin.

"No one's here. It's just an anatomy model I use for drawing references..."

As he typed the message, Song Yuan's heart hammered. Though the mannequin was the original owner's purchase, he'd be the one to face the music if Gu Jingchi discovered he'd custom-ordered a half-naked one.

He'd definitely be labeled a pervert...

Before he could send the message, his phone rang.

Song Yuan pressed the answer button.

"Is there someone else in your house?"

Song Yuan quickly blurted out, "No, no!"

Fearing Gu Jingchi wouldn't believe him, Song Yuan quickly turned on the camera. He carefully angled it to avoid showing the rest of the mannequin, only focusing on the arm that had been accidentally captured. "See? It's a dummy."

"It's a model I use for anatomy reference when I draw."

It wasn't just fashion designers—every artist had their own anatomy model.

So, it was perfectly reasonable for Song Yuan to have one too.

On the screen, Gu Jingchi's lips were tightly pressed, and he said nothing.

The blue glow of the screen illuminated his face, outlining his perfect features. The low saturation of the image cast a detached aura around him.

After hanging up, Gu Jingchi fell into deep thought.

It was just an anatomy model.

But five minutes ago, his brain had been forcibly implanted with an unstoppable command, leading to an unfavorable outcome. He had completely lost his usual composure, calling Song Yuan without any prior reasoning.

Gu Jingchi stared coldly at the phone lying flat on the table, as if trying to process this absurd incident.

The underlying sense of losing control made him somewhat irritable. His relationship with Song Yuan was veering into an uncontrollable direction.

Their frequent chats had woven a beautiful, intricate web, making it feel as if they were truly in a relationship. Even Gu Jingchi himself couldn't quite articulate the situation they were in.

Uncertainty was always the most troublesome thing.

Reason told him that before clarifying things with Song Yuan, he needed to create some distance from this overly intimate relationship.

Both he and Song Yuan needed to calm down.

*

With the art festival looming, as Jiangcheng's pride and joy, the education bureau, school-enterprise collaborations, and even several state-level institutions were making intense preparations.

Song Yuan's work had successfully advanced to the final round. He stayed at W University until late every night, then raced against time to catch the last subway home.

"Ding dong—"

Song Yuan, exhausted and sprawled on the sofa, heard the doorbell and groggily lifted his head.

It was ten o'clock at night. Who could it be?

He peered through the peephole and saw the person pressed right against it, their forehead against the lens.

Big head, small body—a bit like an alien.

Once he recognized who it was, Song Yuan felt a jolt and instinctively switched off the lights.

It was Song Qiao!

How did Song Qiao know where he lived?!

"Knock knock knock—"

"Why'd you turn off the lights as soon as I got here?"

"Are your lights broken?"

Song Yuan had no choice but to ask through the door, "Wh-what do you want? I'm going to sleep."

Song Qiao's tone was somewhat puzzled. "This early? My nightlife is just beginning!"

Song Yuan didn't want to let this troublemaker into his house. In the original plot, this wild child, leveraging the Song family's marriage alliance with Gu Jingchi, had used his name to stir up a lot of trouble outside, causing the original owner to suffer terribly at the hands of other wealthy families after his agreement with Gu Jingchi was terminated. His end was tragic.

He just wanted to stay as far away from this person as possible.

Song Yuan softly said, "If there's nothing important, you should leave."

Song Qiao chuckled softly. "You tell me to leave, and I leave? Do you think I'm your dog?"

Song Yuan's palms grew sweaty.

Song Qiao's personality was completely outside his understanding. In his previous life, his social circle had been very limited, and coupled with his social anxiety, he had no idea how to deal with this mischievous child.

"I heard you were sick. I happen to have some medicine that's about to expire; it should still be good. It'd be a waste to throw it away, so I thought I'd bring it to you."

Song Yuan peered through the peephole again and saw that the other person was indeed holding a white and green bag.

"But... what you're holding is the pharmacy's new packaging from yesterday."

It looked freshly bought.

Song Qiao: "..."

There was silence on the other side of the door for two or three seconds, then Song Qiao's somewhat exasperated voice came through, "I picked it up downstairs! Take it or leave it!"

Not understanding why the other person suddenly got angry, Song Yuan was startled.

"Y-you better recover quickly. I'll be at W University's art festival too, and I'll come find you then!"

Song Yuan's heart sank.

Why would Song Qiao want to find him?

No need to guess—he definitely planned to use his engagement with Gu Jingchi as a valuable social chip, then cause trouble outside.

"You're not allowed to stay up late these days. G-get plenty of rest. Don't you know your own physical limits?"

After saying this, he hung the medicine bag on the hook by the door and ran off, his steps hurried.

The original owner's "ending" sent shivers down Song Yuan's spine; he spent the entire night dreaming of being dismembered, filled with mud, and sunk into the sea.

At 3 AM, Song Yuan woke up for the second time and couldn't fall back asleep.

Fortunately, Gu Jingchi was about to divorce him.

He would be free soon!

At this thought, Song Yuan's heart settled slightly.

Besides, he remembered the gift he had promised Gu Jingchi—it was time to start preparing it!

He would give it to Gu Jingchi when they met at the art festival.

Over the next few days, Song Yuan practically lived in his studio.

A four-piece set: shirt garters, suspenders, and wrist cuffs...

Finally, the day before the art festival, Song Yuan had everything ready.

After dinner, he passed a boutique and suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"What's wrong?" Jiang Ming asked him.

Song Yuan stared intently at the cufflinks in the display case.

The cufflinks were placed in an inconspicuous corner, not the most popular or best-selling style, but they were exquisitely crafted and looked substantial.

The sales associate, seeing his interest, asked if he wanted to examine them more closely.

Song Yuan felt it wasn't necessary. "Please wrap them for me, thank you!"

The sales associate looked troubled; she actually wanted to say that these cufflinks weren't suitable for Song Yuan.

Song Yuan noticed her hesitation and smiled, saying, "I'm not buying them for myself; they're for a friend. They'll suit him perfectly."

Gu Jingchi was the perfect match.

These cufflinks were meticulously designed in terms of style, material, and craftsmanship. With their intricate, retro patterns and brass-toned base, they looked powerful and luxurious without being ostentatious—perfectly complementing the other items he was preparing to give!

"You're so good to him. You've been making gifts for days; isn't that enough?" Jiang Ming teased.

"But your wording isn't precise, is it? Who calls their fiancé a 'friend'?"

"It doesn't matter if I give him a little more," he thought. Anyway, they were going to terminate the agreement.

So, whether he called him his fiancé or his friend, it didn't matter.

When Pei Han walked out of the restaurant, he happened to see Song Yuan shopping at a boutique.

He was about to say that these cufflinks weren't quite right for Song Yuan and wanted to recommend some delicate, exquisite styles, when he overheard Jiang Ming's teasing and had a sudden realization.

Which friend?

Looking at the style of the cufflinks... it was completely Gu Jingchi's style.

"Has he been preparing gifts for his fiancé these past few days?" Pei Han, unable to resist gossiping, secretly asked Jiang Ming while Song Yuan went to the counter to sign and pay.

Jiang Ming recognized Pei Han; after all, they were in the same circle and had become familiar after a few banquets.

"Yes, he's been very dedicated, sewing every stitch by hand, almost ruining his eyes." After saying that, Jiang Ming showed Pei Han the pictures he had secretly taken of Song Yuan in the studio.

Pei Han knew that Song Yuan was very good to those around him, never hesitating to express his affection, as if he was born to love. But he hadn't expected him to be so loving.

In the dim light, Song Yuan was hunched over, carefully using a caliper to align the stitching.

Under his hands were shirt garters, armbands, and suspenders.

The more Pei Han looked, the more astonished he became. Song Yuan seemed so innocent and well-behaved; why would he give such things...

After paying, Song Yuan saw Pei Han staring at him, his gaze intense, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, it only transformed into a sound of awe.

Song Yuan glanced at the nearby counter. "Do you want something too? I can get it for you."

Pei Han quickly waved his hands. "No, no!"

He wanted to live for many more decades.

*

Meanwhile, Gu Jingchi had just finished his meeting and was taking the elevator down from the top floor of the building.

Gu Jingchi, wearing silver-rimmed glasses, stared expressionlessly at the hazy night outside the window.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated. Gu Jingchi took out his phone and glanced at it.

On the empty list, there were only a few chat windows.

Song Yuan's chat window had accumulated many messages, but Gu Jingchi hadn't opened any of them.

The latest one read: "When are you coming back? I bought you a gift [happy.JPG]"

His finger hovered over the chat window for two seconds, but he still didn't tap it, instead opening another chat.

"Pei Han: My good homie~ Are you back in the country? [rose in mouth]"

"Gu Jingchi: Not yet."

"Pei Han: Not coming back yet? Are you doing justice to the carefully prepared gift our Yuan Yuan made for you?"

He thought of the few sentences Song Yuan had sent, and a strange pang of tenderness crept into his heart.

"Gu Jingchi: The butler will pick them up."

"Pei Han: ..."

"Pei Han: I think it's better if you receive these things personally [guilty eyes shifting]"

He even used honorifics; how passive-aggressive.

Gu Jingchi frowned slightly.

"Gu Jingchi: ?"

"Pei Han: A hint for you."

"Pei Han: Black, thin, worn on the body, can leave red marks."