Chapter 40

Chapter 40

Gu Jingchi’s voice was soft and deep.

The magnetic tone brushed against Song Yuan’s ears, making him feel as if fine silver needles were tingling him, sending electric currents through his body.

What a strange sensation.

His brain stalled momentarily from the tingling, his eyes widening slightly as if deep in thought, mechanically repeating Gu Jingchi’s words:

"Your stamina is great..."

A few seconds later, our little philosopher finally arrived at an answer: "That’s amazing. I'm jealous."

Gu Jingchi: "..."

Song Yuan continued, "But I guess it makes sense. You’re taller than me, and your muscles are great too. Feels like you’re larger than me in every aspect..."

Gu Jingchi lowered his gaze to look at Song Yuan, partly suspecting he was doing this on purpose.

But Song Yuan’s eyes were clear and pure, making it seem like he genuinely didn’t understand.

"What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?" Song Yuan noticed the confusion in Gu Jingchi’s eyes and pressed him further.

"Not wrong at all." Gu Jingchi listened to his detailed breakdown—accurate in detail, yet completely missing the intended implication.

"Have some water, overthinker."

Feeling mocked, Song Yuan protested, "That's so patronizing. Your praise and sarcasm sound the same."

He actually caught that. Not entirely clueless, then.

Gu Jingchi replied flatly, "Only those who act within their limits fall within my standards for praise."

Act within their limits?

As Song Yuan pondered when he had overestimated himself, Gu Jingchi pressed a grip-strengthening hand wrap into his palm.

It was designed to relieve hand strain.

Exactly what Song Yuan needed after being nearly pulled to pieces by Black Sa.

Looking at the red marks covering his hands, Song Yuan understood what Gu Jingchi meant by "acting within limits."

All his pent-up complaints instantly deflated. At this point, he couldn’t muster any anger and readily conceded,

"Uh, next time I’ll definitely wait for you before going out. If you’re busy, I’ll ask someone else to walk Black Sa. I won't walk him alone again."

Song Yuan tilted his head and grinned. "That’s the right answer this time, huh, Oh great critic?"

Gu Jingchi found Song Yuan’s "comeback" adorable. It was as if Song Yuan could endlessly create new surprising remarks, making people eager to chat with him, waiting for his next words.

He nodded, reaching out to lightly touch Song Yuan’s face before running fingers through his hair.

"That tickles! Stop touching my neck." Song Yuan couldn’t help laughing as he flinched away.

He couldn't tell if he was imagining it, but Gu Jingchi seemed to have more affectionate gestures than usual today.

What Song Yuan didn’t know was that He Zongnian was standing nearby, watching them.

He suspected Gu Jingchi was doing it on purpose.

The guide from the pet hospital had arrived and was leading the puppies through social skills training in the field.

Meanwhile, the owners were seated in the waiting area outside.

Gu Jingchi stood to Song Yuan’s right, blocking the sun for him.

Just then, Song Yuan noticed two more people behind him. Both were exceptionally attractive, especially the one nearly as tall as Gu Jingchi—exceptionally cheerful and radiant. Though equally handsome as Gu Jingchi, his energy was completely different, making him impossible to ignore.

As the man passed Gu Jingchi, he greeted him.

"What brings you here?" The man sounded surprised. "This is unexpected. Did you get a dog?"

Gu Jingchi’s expression remained unchanged. "Yeah." He called the man by name. "Fu Zhou."

The person beside Fu Zhou stepped forward with a polite nod. He was remarkably fair-skinned and elegant, reminding Song Yuan of a delicate paper lantern hanging on a wall—captivating yet glowing in a quiet, understated way.

"When did you get a dog?" Gu Jingchi asked.

Fu Zhou’s expression froze momentarily.

The beauty beside him suddenly turned and walked forward to sit in the front row, appearing noticeably distant.

But Song Yuan clearly saw a glint of amusement in his eyes before he left.

Fu Zhou lowered his voice to tell Gu Jingchi, "His dog doesn’t like me. Every time I drop by unannounced to see him, it barks at me like it’s seen something. I figured this wasn't working, so I convinced him to bring the pup here for social skills training. Maybe next time I visit, I can actually stay the night."

Gu Jingchi shot him a deadpan look. "It might not be the dog’s issue. You might want to look elsewhere for answers."

Fu Zhou didn’t pursue it, because he noticed Song Yuan.

Seeing the other’s gaze on him, Song Yuan stood and nodded. "Hello."

Song Yuan was strikingly handsome—the type of looks that fueled gossip. He fit every urban legend about Gu Jingchi’s rumored fiancé.

Fu Zhou returned the nod politely and asked Gu Jingchi, "Is this... your fiancé?"

Gu Jingchi frowned slightly and shook his head. "He's family."

"Huh?" Fu Zhou clearly hadn’t expected that answer. He’d considered fiancé, business arrangement, betrothed—but definitely not "family."

The term was too ambiguous, completely unlike something Gu Jingchi would say.

Fu Zhou withdrew his gaze, looking Song Yuan up and down in surprise.

"I thought you two had a marriage of convenience," Fu Zhou chuckled. "Turns out not."

"It’s not *not* that." Song Yuan had good sense. He knew leaving this unexplained would cause trouble.

He also knew Gu Jingchi hated complications, and ambiguities were the most troublesome of all. "We *are* in a contractual engagement."

The moment those words left his mouth, the atmosphere went deathly quiet. No one spoke.

Fu Zhou arched an eyebrow at Gu Jingchi.

The handsome stranger turned around, glancing between Gu Jingchi and Song Yuan before a glimmer of curiosity appeared in his eyes. "Will you be here tomorrow?"

Song Yuan nodded. "Yes, why do you ask?"

"It's nothing." The handsome man smiled. "Just giving you a belated engagement gift. Seems like you still don’t know my name."

He lowered his head and traced a few characters in the air. "I'm Su Yi."

Su Yi—such a fitting name.

"No need for a gift," Song Yuan thought to himself. His engagement to Gu Jingchi was just a contractual arrangement. Once the term ended, they’d part ways. Song Yuan couldn't reciprocate, and it felt rude, both emotionally and socially.

But Su Yi didn’t push the matter, instead asking, "Do you live together?"

Song Yuan nodded.

Well, kind of.

Ever since Gu Jingchi found out he had been sleeping in the library and empty classrooms for several nights while busy with his thesis defense, he had practically detained him—under the guise of "ensuring he slept early."

Su Yi wasn’t surprised by the answer. "And you’re raising a dog together too."

Song Yuan nodded again.

This only confirmed Su Yi’s belief that Song Yuan and Gu Jingchi were far from a fake marriage. "I’m giving you the gift."

For some reason, Su Yi insisted. Watching Su Yi and Fu Zhou walk away, Song Yuan felt puzzled.

He glanced at Gu Jingchi, but the latter showed no reaction, as if he hadn’t even heard.

Spacing out? Song Yuan wondered. He didn’t even back me up in politely refusing.

The dog’s socialization training took longer than expected, and owners weren’t allowed inside during training, so they had to wait on the sidelines.

During this time, Song Yuan kept observing the two in front of him.

Based on their earlier conversation, Su Yi’s dog didn’t seem to like Fu Zhou. Song Yuan first thought Fu Zhou might have some off-putting mannerisms, but after observing him, he saw nothing unusual.

Everything about Fu Zhou was perfectly normal—he was exceptionally polite. When Su Yi got tired, Fu Zhou let him lean on his shoulder for support. By the time the session ended, it was nearly dark, and Fu Zhou held Su Yi’s hand tightly, as if worried he might trip.

So why did the dog, so well-behaved during training, snarl at Fu Zhou the moment they returned to Su Yi’s side?

Once home, Song Yuan asked Gu Jingchi, "Why doesn’t Su Yi’s dog like Fu Zhou? Aren’t they friends?"

Gu Jingchi lowered his gaze, studying him for a few seconds before answering, "They’re not just friends. They’re a couple."

"Really?" Song Yuan hadn’t picked up on it at all.

But that wasn’t what confused him. If Su Yi and Fu Zhou were a couple, shouldn’t the dog be more accepting?

Song Yuan’s wide eyes held a childlike puzzlement as he tried to make sense of it, but failed.

Gu Jingchi explained, "The dog might not dislike Fu Zhou himself. What it dislikes could be Fu Zhou’s role as Su Yi’s lover."

That was confusing.

Song Yuan needed a moment to digest that.

Gu Jingchi found it strange—Song Yuan was sharp, far more perceptive than most in many aspects. Yet with things like this, he was completely oblivious.

Remembering his earlier failed hint, Gu Jingchi asked, "Do you know what lovers are?"

Song Yuan wanted to nod—after all, he was supposed to be a smooth-talking flirt.

But for some reason, he couldn’t force himself to nod.

"Lovers are people who share a bed," Gu Jingchi deliberately nudged the conversation, hoping Song Yuan would remember his own comment: "We’ll have to sleep together from now on."

But Song Yuan missed the hint entirely. Instead, he began analyzing.

"Maybe Su Yi’s dog has never been separated from him, even during sleep. It’s used to that routine. Suddenly having its owner’s boyfriend intrude on that—it’s understandable the dog would act out against Fu Zhou."

Gu Jingchi: "..."

"Does that make sense?" Song Yuan asked.

Gu Jingchi stared down, speechless.

The logic was there, but the conclusion was wrong.

But Gu Jingchi couldn’t outright say it. He dropped the subject for now.

"I’ve got some work at the office. I’ll be back late—get some rest early tonight." Gu Jingchi draped his coat over Song Yuan’s shoulders and zipped it up for him.

Song Yuan nodded.

After seeing Gu Jingchi off, he kept mulling over what happened earlier.

They say artists are observant and intuitive, but Song Yuan realized he was the exception.

Su Yi and Fu Zhou being lovers should’ve been obvious—why hadn’t he noticed?

He’d been ready to sleep, but now he was wide awake.

Lack of sleep made him restless, and with the weather turning warmer, his throat felt dry. He headed to the kitchen and chugged a large glass of water, then returned to his room.

Song Yuan had a habit of locking doors, so after closing his, he locked it out of habit.

Lying in bed with his eyes closed, he tried to will himself to sleep.

But failed.

After his third failed attempt to get comfortable, he grabbed his phone, intending to play some ASMR to help.

Opening the video app, he navigated to his saved folder with practiced ease. Just as he was about to press play, his finger slipped, pulling up a film analysis video instead.

The opening scene showed two people walking side by side under an endless blue sky.

They looked like close friends.

That same odd feeling came back. Song Yuan’s thumb hovered over the exit button but didn’t press it.

As the camera followed their movement, the view gradually expanded—they were now strolling down a boulevard at dusk.

The cinematography was stunning, with a high-saturation filter bathing the scene. The sky was split—half in twilight orange, the other half in pale blue. The two clashing colors blended into an uncanny harmony on screen, like a spilled palette from the heavens.

Unbidden, Song Yuan recalled the sunset he and Gu Jingchi had watched together from the cross-river bridge in Nan City.

He blinked unconsciously, then rolled over and kept watching.

You have to admit, this director has a great eye for composition.

Though the background is a vibrant golden orange, the characters remain lingering in the shadows due to the city's obstructing corridors, blending into the blue-tinted darkness, making them seem lost in thought.

No wonder they chose this BGM—it’s weirdly sad.

What’s this movie about? A story of two friends fighting?

Song Yuan kept watching.

The blue tones grew heavier, the piano in the background growing slower. Suddenly, a viola’s notes slowly joined in, and the blue in the frame was cut through by the evening light, the entire scene brightening as a faint layer of gloom was replaced by warmth.

Song Yuan felt his heart soar, as if the entire room had been illuminated by light.

The scene was so beautiful he couldn’t look away.

This must be friendship goals. The director actually used such a long take capturing this moment.

He thought the next scene would show the two friends reconciling, until he saw the two on screen begin to kiss.

…Wait, what?

In his daze, his fingers loosened, and his phone screen slammed straight onto his shoulder. He winced and sat up, digging his phone back out from between the blankets.

The video had finished and was now looping for the second time.

As Song Yuan picked up his phone, his gaze landed on the on-screen comments at the beginning of the video.

“Divine romance! Such a good ship! I’m obsessed!”

“Just a passerby, but the chemistry between these two is next-level! Clearly a couple worth shipping—got me hooked instantly.”

“Fifty minutes is too short! I need to watch the original film right now!”

Song Yuan leaned back, confused but intrigued.

—Was he the only one who thought they were just friends?

How could they tell?

The next morning, Song Yuan overslept, only waking when he heard the housekeeper knocking.

He quickly got ready, and as soon as he opened the door, he saw Gu Jingchi, who had already returned.

The door to Gu Jingchi’s room was wide open. He stood with his back to Song Yuan, taking off his pajamas. The muscles of his back flexed with the motion, showing off his toned muscles in the morning light.

Song Yuan froze, a weird feeling suddenly bubbling up in his chest.

By the time he snapped back to reality, Gu Jingchi had already dressed. His shirt was buttoned all the way up, perfectly neat as usual. He turned to look at Song Yuan, his expression blank.

Caught off guard by the sudden eye contact, Song Yuan felt a twinge of guilt, like he’d been caught staring.

One second—then he averted his gaze. But after looking away, he thought, *Wait, why am I even nervous?*

This wasn’t his fault. Gu Jingchi should’ve closed the door.

By the time Song Yuan turned back, Gu Jingchi was fully dressed.

“You’re home,” Song Yuan murmured, leaning against the doorframe, his voice soft like the morning light. “Did you return last night?”

Gu Jingchi glanced at him and asked instead, “Did you sleep early last night?”

No, he’d been up late watching videos.

But Song Yuan’s instincts warned him not to say that—it’d be too much to explain.

“Yeah.”

Gu Jingchi studied him. “Good.”

Song Yuan blinked. “Huh?”

“Good job locking up,” Gu Jingchi said.

The meeting had ended late last night. Usually, Gu Jingchi would’ve gone to his other residence—it was closer to the office, just ten minutes away.

But he remembered Song Yuan’s words from the night before: *We should sleep together from now on.* After some thought, he drove forty minutes back here instead.

Only to find Song Yuan had locked the door.

The person who’d said they’d sleep together had locked him out.

As a result, he hadn’t slept well.

But Song Yuan had no idea, zoning out at breakfast, lost in thought.

Both lost in thought, they carried on until the second social skills session that afternoon.

Su Yi had indeed brought him a gift—a set of Western-style painted teacups, beautifully made with intricate designs.

Song Yuan noticed the brushstrokes were unique. “Did you paint these yourself? They’re beautiful.”

Su Yi nodded. “I’m happy you like them.”

The afternoon social skills training was the same as yesterday’s—basic social steps.

But the weather had other plans. Heavy rain poured down before the event even began.

Luckily, there was a long pavilion nearby for shelter.

Beside the park stretched an ornate covered walkway, winding across the lawn, each section angled so that you couldn’t see the next section.

“Let’s go over there,” Song Yuan said, dragging Gu Jingchi with him as they ran.

The rain had come suddenly. When Song Yuan sat down, he realized his pants were soaked, sticking uncomfortably to his legs.

He stood, shaking off the water, when something caught his eye—and he froze.

In his line of sight, Fu Zhou and Su Yi stood close, their heads nearly touching, almost overlapping.

Their positioning was clever—almost no one could see them.

This time, he could tell—they were a couple.

But for some reason, a strange feeling welled up in his chest.

Their posture felt familiar, as if he’d seen it somewhere before.

The next moment, he saw it—Su Yi, normally so distant, suddenly lifted his head and pressed a quick kiss to Fu Zhou’s cheek, smiling at him. Fu Zhou seemed startled for a second before pulling Su Yi into his arms, kissing him properly.

But this time it went deeper, hit harder.

Song Yuan's mind buzzed, his mind went momentarily blank.

The dark clouds hung heavy; the world dissolved into a curtain of rain as emotions buried deep in his subconscious began to surface.

Someone approached from behind, and Song Yuan caught the distinctive scent of Gu Jingchi's aftershave.

Now so close, his heart suddenly pounded violently.

"What are you looking at? ...Your face is so red."