Chapter 32 If You Could Only Choose One

Chapter 32: If I Had to Choose Just One

After picking up the script, Shi Zai headed to the museum to find someone. It was a day off, and only Shu Yangkuo was working overtime.

He hoped the annoying man wouldn’t start acting up again.

After Shu Yangkuo said those words last night, Shi Zai felt both confused and a little irritated, asking what he meant. Shu Yangkuo paused for two seconds, then gently explained that narrating novels was indeed more interesting and promising than historical artifacts. He advised Shi Zai not to overcommit himself and to prioritize the novel, with Shu Yangkuo’s project as a backup option.

It sounded reasonable, and the tone was polite, but Shi Zai couldn’t shake the feeling that this man’s overthinking tendencies were resurfacing.

No matter how he pressed, Shu Yangkuo insisted there was no ulterior motive. To prove it, he even offered to accompany Shi Zai to Tan Xun’s place to get the script or, if unnecessary, to give him a ride there. Shi Zai thought it was ridiculous—he knew the way.

Carrying the script upstairs, the museum was quiet on Saturday. Shi Zai walked softly, as if afraid of startling the artifacts.

At the door of the third-floor office, Shi Zai peeked in and was about to speak but paused. First, Shu Yangkuo hadn’t noticed him, and second, if he was working overtime, why wasn’t he busy? Instead, he was standing by the window, spacing out. His tall figure seemed somewhat lonely, as if he’d been hurt.

Not wanting to startle him, Shi Zai made no loud noise and walked over quietly. Just as he called out “Brother,” the broad shoulders twitched slightly. Tsk, this picky, stingy, scaredy-cat—even such a soft voice had startled Shu Yangkuo.

Shu Yangkuo turned around and pulled the person he’d been thinking about all morning into a tight embrace:

“Got it back?”

“Yeah, this time it’s the second male lead.”

“You’re amazing, Xiao Zai. Do you enjoy working with him?”

“…Why wouldn't I be?”

“That’s good.”

“…”

Shi Zai was speechless. The baffling feeling intensified as he carefully studied the man’s calm expression. The earlier loneliness had vanished the moment Shu Yangkuo turned around, but something still felt off to Shi Zai.

Rising on his tiptoes, he reached out and tentatively touched Shu Yangkuo’s eyes. Shu Yangkuo bent down slightly to make it easier for him. Shi Zai asked:

“Brother, should I drop his project?”

“No need. Since you’re happy, accept it.”

“…Why does it feel like you’re upset? Are you jealous, Brother?”

“No, I’m not a petty person.”

“…”

To prove he was truly big-hearted, Shu Yangkuo added:

“Didn’t I say I’d give you a ride to his place?”

“…I know the way.”

“Right, that’s true.”

“…”

By now, the weirdness reached its peak. This annoying man kept saying “his place” as if Shi Zai was dating two guys.

And “Are you happy working with him?”

The more he thought about it, the more it felt passive-aggressive, pretending to be indifferent while clearly being as narrow-minded as a sesame seed.

Shi Zai decided to make him confess this time. He waved three fingers in front of Shu Yangkuo’s face: “Brother, I’ll count to three. You’d better fess up.” But as soon as he said “one,” his fingers were caught in a warm hand, though the words that followed were cold: “I really haven’t been overthinking.” Shi Zai wanted to laugh in frustration: “Fine, then I’ll only work on Tan Xun’s project at the end of May.” Shu Yangkuo was silent for two seconds and agreed: “Okay.”

He actually agreed.

As Shi Zai was about to say more, he was released. Shu Yangkuo said, “I still have work to do,” walked to his chair, sat down with his back to Shi Zai, opened a thick book, and started reading and writing, quickly immersing himself in work.

Shi Zai stood there for a moment, silent for half a minute, then couldn’t take it anymore. He shouted, “Shu Yangkuo!” The annoying man only shrugged slightly, didn’t respond, didn’t look at him, and just kept turning pages loudly.

He really knows how to be dramatic. Shi Zai walked over, but before he could see his face, Shu Yangkuo half-turned away from him.

Whenever he did this, Shi Zai’s heart softened. He wedged himself between Shu Yangkuo and the desk, sat on his lap, cupped his red-eyed face, and planted messy kisses all over it, kissing away the moisture on his eyelashes. He patted the big dog head that made him both love and grit his teeth:

“Brother, I know what you’re being dramatic about…”

“I’m not being dramatic.”

“You… let me finish. Tan Xun… he does have some other feelings for me, ouch, don’t pinch me!”

Shi Zai yelped in pain, finally realizing how strong the annoying man’s grip was. When he looked up, Shu Yangkuo’s expression was frosty, even furious, as if he wanted to kill someone. Shi Zai shuddered inexplicably, suddenly understanding Yang Yun’s long-standing fear.

He quickly kissed to soothe him and said in a rush:

“When I was working on the previous book, I realized my true feelings for you and vaguely sensed his. I set him straight right after. Later, I learned from Jiang Ziqing that Tan Xun had someone he liked before. It’s over. It’s somewhat similar to me and Jiang Ziqing—both kind of tragic in a way. Sometimes it gives him the wrong idea; he’s not really into me, just occasionally sees me as that person. I didn’t intentionally hide it from you; I didn’t think it was necessary. You know, I didn't want to rock the boat, afraid you’d be upset. That was my mistake; I should’ve told you clearly. It’s really nothing, Brother. Don’t worry about him; there’s no need at all. Don’t you understand my heart?”

“It’s you who doesn’t understand Brother’s heart.”

“…? Then tell me, Brother, what else is there?”

After hesitating for a few seconds, Shu Yangkuo looked back at him and spoke:

“If that’s the case, why does Xiao Zai still want to work with him?”

“What do you mean 'if that's the case'? Why can’t I work with him? First, I’ve already made it clear. Second, that's a separate issue. He hasn’t actually done anything to me; we’re just friends. Jiang Ziqing has a good relationship with him too, and they occasionally collaborate on work.”

“Haven’t done anything? How did you notice?”

“…Through his gaze, I guess.”

“You two were making eyes at each other?!”

Hearing this, Shi Zai was both angry and amused. He took a deep breath:

“Brother, don't be ridiculous! Don’t you look people in the eye when talking to them?!”

“…Oh.”

“Come on, Brother, stop fussing. It’s really nothing. Before I realized my feelings, I didn’t think much of it. Only later did I notice him looking at me a certain way sometimes, so I made sure he knew right away. If I had any feelings for him, would I have had the nerve to say all that? No one accused me of misreading the situation. I did it for you, to show you my wholehearted love. You have to trust me, understand?”

“If you could only choose one?”

The abrupt question made no sense, but Shi Zai knew he was referring to the narration work. He immediately replied:

“It would definitely be you. But don’t make this complicated, Brother. Why bring up this weird either/or question? No matter what, there’s only you—there’s never been another option. If you keep thinking like this, I’ll feel like I’m not your firm choice. Do you not care if I come or go? Am I someone you can just pass to others? This really upsets me. I only want you, only you! You’re so frustrating, wuwu…”

He hadn’t meant to cry, but as he spoke, Shi Zai genuinely began to feel hurt.

The moment those tears seared into his chest, Shu Yangkuo snapped back to awareness from that extreme emotional state. He'd done wrong again. He pulled the other tightly against his dampened chest, pressing his eyes into the other's shoulder, apologizing sentence after sentence.

From the moment he heard about it last night until now, he'd wanted to make that person disappear—but he couldn’t make it happen, so he sank into negativity and self-pity instead.

He cupped that small face in his hands, sucking away all tears:

“Xiao Zai, if Brother ever acts like this again, you hit me. Beat me to death, okay?”

“…Are you crazy?!”

“Brother’s not teasing you. I truly don't know what to do. I might do it again… Xiao Zai, you have to hit me awake.”

Driven to not know what to say by this man's craziness, Shi Zai sniffled:

“It’s okay, Brother. I’ll coax you for the rest of my life. I won’t hit you. Besides, whenever I cry, doesn't Brother come to his senses pretty fast?”

“No. Brother doesn’t want to see you cry again. Every time you cry, I wish I could die.”

“…Brother?”

Shi Zai knew Shu Yangkuo was obsessive, but today he saw just how extreme he could be. Yet even so, he couldn’t hold back his own tears, quickly wiping them away. He’d never paid much attention before when crying, but now he noticed the darkness and struggle deep in Shu Yangkuo’s eyes.

He quickly lifted his face, kissing and coaxing:

“Brother, I won’t cry. But even if I do, it’s not your fault, it’s because I love you that I cry.”

“…Brother will change.”

As he spoke, Shu Yangkuo buried his face again, nuzzling into the warm neck of the person in his arms. He knew this wasn’t right. He’d been reading psychology books to adjust himself—he shouldn’t be frightening someone like this. Love should mean safety, not dragging someone into danger.

His voice low and hoarse, Shu Yangkuo held the other even tighter:

“Xiao Zai, Brother will really change. Before… before…”

“Brother, don’t be afraid. What happened before isn't urgent. We can talk about it slowly later. I’m here. Xiao Zai is here.”

Taking a deep breath, Shu Yangkuo barely held his emotions in check and continued:

“I won’t say such extreme things again. Brother is willing to change. Will Xiao Zai stay with Brother?”

“Yes, I’ll stay with Brother! We have our whole lives ahead of us. You compensate me, I compensate you. Don’t be afraid, and don’t carry everything alone. Even though Brother is my big backing mountain, you’re also my sweetheart. We’ll face things together, take it slow, no rush.”

Only after saying “I love you” many more times did Shi Zai feel the arms around him gradually grow calmer, at least no longer trembling slightly. For a moment, Shi Zai felt like he was being crushed.

He wasn’t sure how they went from jealousy to such extreme emotions, but Shi Zai was glad Shu Yangkuo could be open with him, seeking his help and company like this. It gave him a sense of being needed.

This is how it should be between lovers. Even though Shu Yangkuo was older and bigger, he still needed him too.

Shi Zai was overjoyed.

At the same time, he vaguely understood that when past trauma hasn’t fully faded, he shouldn’t stimulate people like this. Just like with his own parents—Shu Yangkuo had thought about taking them far away from this province. Shi Zai only realized it when he secretly found a map tucked in his notebook. Shu Yangkuo had a good job now, but he was willing to start over somewhere new, just so Shi Zai wouldn’t accidentally run into his parents and have a stress response.

Shi Zai could do the same. Sometimes yielding isn’t about helplessness—it’s a deeper kind of love.

He lifted that face reddened all over from crying, kissing it tenderly:

“Brother, I’ve decided—I won’t take that novel. Don’t shake your head, don’t feel guilty. I’m doing this for you, to make your heart feel comfortable, to love you even more. Brother has to accept this kind of ‘for you.’ Because I really love it too when Brother does things unconditionally for me. Like when I make big mistakes, and Brother still indulges me, spoils me… I love being ‘done for’ unconditionally. So Brother, you have to accept it too, okay?”

“…”

“There are plenty of job opportunities. We’ll make plenty of money. But there’s only one Brother. And I’m the same for you. So everything we do is to make each other better and happier. If it doesn’t, then what’s the point? Brother, I like doing things for you.”

“…”

“Brother—”

As the last “Brother” fell, Shi Zai was caught in a fierce, emotional kiss, salty heat flowing between their lips.

The moment he leaned into it, Shi Zai smiled to himself—he was a little crybaby, and his Brother was a big crybaby. Heh.

So happy. The old Shu Yangkuo probably never cried. He cried for him.

Just as they were soothing each other’s swirling emotions, the phone rang. They ignored it the first time. The second time, it rang impatiently, urging an answer.