Chapter 120: Both Couples Are Secretly Dating

Chapter 120: Both Couples Are Secretly Seeing Each Other

The snowy mountain town was picturesque and inviting, yet staying in a hotel every day still felt overly extravagant to Lin Haoda. Moreover, though the buffet at the upscale restaurant was delicious, eating it daily quickly grew tiresome—people are never satisfied; that’s simply human nature.

One day, when he didn’t need to visit Wu Manzhen at the hospital, he wandered into a local grocery store. Passing by a real estate agency, he happened to spot a flyer and, on impulse, stepped inside to inquire. To his surprise, the receptionist was exceptionally enthusiastic—and since it was still morning and he had free time—offered to drive him there immediately.

The apartment wasn’t far from their current hotel—just a ten-minute drive away—situated in a quiet, secluded residential neighborhood. It was a three-bedroom unit with stylish decor and fully equipped with modern appliances.

The agent explained that the owners were a young, child-free couple who had recently married and were currently traveling the world, leaving the property temporarily vacant.

Lin Haoda asked about the rent and found it reasonable—but refrained from committing on the spot, merely exchanging contact information.

That evening, upon returning, he found Guan Junshan already waiting in the suite. Lin Haoda pushed open the door to see him leaning casually against the sofa, laptop balanced on his lap, browsing documents at a relaxed pace.

“Back,” Guan said, glancing up slightly at the sound and casually removing his glasses.

“Oh, come on, CEO Guan,” Lin Haoda replied, shrugging off his scarf and coat. “Your room is right next door, isn’t it?”

Guan Junshan hummed noncommittally, remaining perfectly calm, and simply said, “It’s easier to wait for you here.”

Lin Haoda shook his head helplessly, pulled fruit and snacks from his bag, and placed them in the minibar. Guan Junshan watched him quietly for a moment before asking, “Where did you go today?”

Lin Haoda washed his hands and came over to sit beside him. “CEO Guan,” he murmured softly, pausing for a beat before continuing, “Have you ever considered us moving out and finding a proper place of our own?”

The next morning, Lin Haoda proactively contacted the agent and brought Guan Junshan to view the apartment he’d seen the day before.

Their driver was a young college student with curly blond hair—likely working a winter break job. His driving skills were mediocre at best; the sedan handled like an off-road vehicle crossing desert dunes, jolting everyone inside violently.

Lin Haoda hadn’t eaten breakfast due to time constraints—and perhaps because his blood sugar was low—he felt the motion more acutely. After stepping out of the car, the student, feeling guilty, dashed off to ask a familiar property manager for hot water and chocolate.

Afraid he might vomit at any moment, Lin Haoda deliberately stood by the flower beds, keeping Guan Junshan at a distance.

As he accepted the chocolate, his fingers trembled uncontrollably, his complexion was ashen, and his lips were deathly pale. Guan Junshan started forward—but the agent called him over to discuss housing preferences and rental duration.

The quick-witted student hurried two steps ahead to support Lin Haoda and helped him settle onto a nearby bench to rest.

After swallowing the chocolate and sipping the hot water, his symptoms eased slightly. Lin Haoda sat quietly for a while until the ground stopped spinning—and his complexion finally improved.

Guan Junshan stood some distance away with the agent beside a cluster of low shrubs. The agent held a tablet displaying floor plans of several nearby properties.

Yet Guan Junshan appeared disengaged. He kept glancing over repeatedly, lips pursed, expression distinctly displeased.

He looked unapproachable, and the student, intimidated by his demeanor, leaned in and whispered, “Is that your boss?”

Lin Haoda couldn’t help but smile—then quickly composed himself, nodded affirmatively, and after a pause added, “He’s not a bad person—just a bit particular.”

“He keeps looking this way,” the student whispered again. “And doesn’t look happy at all.”

Lin Haoda teased him, lowering his voice deliberately: “Looks like we both need to be careful.”

The student’s expression shifted instantly. Cautiously, he asked, “Is he… Italian?”

Lin Haoda burst out laughing, shook his head, and rose from the bench. Walking over, he asked, “CEO Guan—how’s the selection going?”

Guan Junshan frowned, reached out, and gripped Lin Haoda’s forearm—not answering, but instead asking, “Is your dizziness gone? Don’t you need more rest?”

“I’m not that fragile,” Lin Haoda smiled. “I’m worried it might snow later. Let’s check a few more places this morning and finalize something.”

But Guan Junshan tightened his grip, holding Lin Haoda’s arm even more firmly. Lin Haoda blinked, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

Guan Junshan remained silent for a long moment. Lin Haoda feigned irritation and said, “CEO Guan—time’s tight, workload’s heavy. You can’t throw a tantrum now.”

Guan Junshan stood still for a beat—then, shielded from view by their height and positioning, gently brushed a finger across Lin Haoda’s cold cheek.

“Are you okay?” Guan Junshan’s voice was low, his gaze softening as it dropped slightly. “Just now, sitting there—you looked really uncomfortable.”

“Yeah.” With his back to the agent, Lin Haoda reached out and pressed his palm against the back of Guan’s hand. Both patches of skin were icy—but at least they could warm each other. After a pause, he added, “Don’t worry about me.”

Perhaps because Lin Haoda still seemed somewhat unwell, the agent took a shortcut and showed them only two of the properties Guan Junshan had marked as promising on his tablet. One was older—the bedroom damp and rarely touched by sunlight—and was rejected outright.

The other was decent, though its drawback was being slightly farther away—requiring a short walk from the entrance. Its advantage, however, was tranquility.

Lin Haoda found it difficult to decide—and, considering Guan Junshan hadn’t yet seen yesterday’s apartment, he withheld his preference. He displayed no overt enthusiasm for either option, yet Guan Junshan saw through him instantly. The reason was simple: when Lin Haoda had visited alone the previous day, the garden hadn’t been cleaned, so the agent hadn’t mentioned it. Lin Haoda was the kind of person who opened windows at home even in winter to let in fresh air—so he naturally favored open gardens and balconies.

The electronic lease was signed swiftly. While Guan Junshan stood at the counter discussing procedures with the agent, the young student approached and said, emotionally, “Your boss is incredibly generous. Honestly, I don’t think he’s nearly as interested in this place as you are.”

Lin Haoda curved his lips and replied, “Is that so?” Adopting a mysterious air, he joked, “My boss is superstitious. He probably thinks I’ll bring him good luck.”

Though it was their first New Year celebrated abroad—and the festive atmosphere nowhere near as vibrant as back home—Lin Haoda turned the move into a lively event with three days left until New Year’s Eve.

They relocated from the downtown hotel to the rented apartment. Guan Junshan signed a one-month short-term lease, subject to substantial taxes. As a housewarming gesture, the agent had arranged for professional cleaning in advance. Yet Lin Haoda spent the entire day bustling about—changing bed linens in both rooms, stocking the kitchen with groceries, hauling in potted plants and greenery, and decorating with red “Fu” characters, Spring Festival couplets, and other ornaments—no one knew where he’d sourced them all.

The local time zone was six hours behind China. They’d agreed in advance to celebrate the New Year according to Chinese time—so they rose early and first headed to the hospital for a family reunion at Wu Manzhen’s bedside.

Lin Haoda was meticulous and skilled—he’d made dumplings the night before. Truth be told, having grown up in southern China, he’d never observed the tradition of eating dumplings for New Year. But now, celebrating overseas for the first time, he suddenly missed home—and understood those old sayings about longing: only dumplings could symbolize wholeness.

Even though Wu Manzhen was receiving IV fluids and couldn’t taste them, Lin Haoda placed the insulated container beside her head—and together with Guan Junshan, each holding chopsticks and a bowl, they finished the meal at her bedside.

Afterward, Guan Junshan wished to speak privately with Wu Manzhen, so Lin Haoda went for a solitary walk in the garden downstairs.

When he returned, Guan Junshan was already waiting by the elevator. Lin Haoda tilted his head and asked considerately, “All done talking?”

“Yeah.” Guan Junshan nodded.

Lin Haoda immediately stepped forward, drawing close to his face, then dramatically pressed down on his arm and rose onto his tiptoes—peering left and right.

Guan Junshan, unusually patient, didn’t push him away. Worried Lin Haoda might lose balance, he instinctively steadied him at the waist—hesitating briefly before asking, “…What are you doing?”

Lin Haoda laughed. “I’m checking if you’ve shed any tears.” He scrutinized Guan Junshan’s face for half a minute, then sighed, disappointed: “Oh dear—you’re not even red-eyed?”

Guan Junshan pressed his lips together. Lin Haoda quickly coaxed him: “But it’s okay—I still have a trump card.”

As he pushed open the ward door, Guan Junshan asked, “What is it?” Lin Haoda remained enigmatic, refusing to reveal it. “You’ll be utterly moved when you see it.”

Saying this smugly, he strode to the sofa and rummaged in his backpack.

When Lin Haoda finally pulled out the item, Guan Junshan stood frozen at the doorway—silent for several seconds—as if reluctant to call him out: “I don’t think they’ll allow fireworks here.”

Lin Haoda continued unwrapping the outer packaging without frustration, muttering in rebuttal, “Did you think I hadn’t considered that?” Then he fully extracted his prepared “trump card” surprise and held it aloft, shaking it twice before Guan Junshan.

Puffing with pride, he defended himself: “It’s a cold-firework. I specifically bought the smallest size—the shopkeeper assured me it’s completely safe.”

Seeing Guan Junshan’s hesitation, Lin Haoda’s confidence rapidly dissolved. He softened his tone and negotiated: “Otherwise… can we light just one or two on the terrace? It’s outdoors anyway—nothing dangerous, right?”

Guan Junshan answered honestly: “I’m not sure.”

Then he turned, pushed the door open, stepped out of the room, and stood in the corridor to call the hospital’s security supervisor.

About ten minutes later, a large crowd flooded into the ward. Lin Haoda was peeling an apple by the bedside, and the tip of the knife shook, nearly cutting himself.

Guan Junshan’s expression barely changed. He turned his head and whispered something to the person next to him. That person waved a hand, and two burly bodyguards in suits appeared out of nowhere, each holding a fire extinguisher.

Lin Haoda was startled by the commotion and didn't dare mention setting off fireworks again. He immediately shot Guan Junshan a look and promised, “Don’t worry, I’ve already decided not to set them off.”

But Guan Junshan walked over to him, gestured toward the balcony, and looked at him with a smirk, “Didn’t you say it was a specially prepared surprise?”

With a group of people behind them staring intently, all looking like they were bracing for an attack, Lin Haoda swore he would never act on impulse again. He pulled two silver sparklers from his pocket and confirmed again, “Do you really still want to light them?”

The moment the sparklers ignited, just as Lin Haoda had assured, they weren’t very powerful. The flames were low-temp and didn't hurt even when they touched his clothes or hands. The sunlight on the balcony was warm and bright, and the fine sparks seemed to blur into the daytime dream, giving a surreal, dreamlike feeling.

They stayed with Wu Manzhen at the hospital until early afternoon, then drove home.

Since childhood, Lin Haoda had been taught to stay up on New Year’s Eve—no sleeping before midnight. Later, when he grew up and started working, he'd always get tons of New Year texts and have to read and reply to each one, and before he knew it, it'd be midnight.

But here, it was still bright outside. He fiddled with his phone for a while, searched for the Spring Festival Gala live stream online, and—whether anyone was watching or not—cast it to the TV to serve as the obligatory background noise for the New Year celebration.

Guan Junshan put on headphones and went through some documents in the study. Then, cracking his neck as he came out, he asked what time it was. Lin Haoda glanced at the clock and told him, “It's one hour to the new year.”

Guan Junshan grabbed some clothes and said he was going to shower. Lin Haoda curled up on the sofa. The first wave of New Year greetings had already arrived, and the company group chat was ablaze with red packet battles.

Just as one round ended, a video call from Tong Dong popped up. Lin Haoda instinctively answered, and Tong Dong’s beaming face immediately popped up on the screen: “Team leader, happy New Year! Happy Spring Festival!”

Lin Haoda sat up straight on the sofa and smiled, greeting her, “Happy New Year, Tong Dong.”

“How's your trip abroad? Having fun?” Tong Dong got straight to the point in a few sentences. “Don’t forget to bring me a souvenir!”

Lin Haoda responded one by one, saying “I won’t forget,” and then asked her about a few project-related matters. When he had taken leave on short notice, he hadn’t handled things very well, and he was grateful Tong Dong was willing to take over.

But after a few minutes, Tong Dong started to grumble. Even though it was New Year's, she felt like she was still doing a work report. She brushed it off and changed the subject, asking, “Are you traveling alone? Which city are you in now?”

Lin Haoda sidestepped the first question and just said, “I’m in Switzerland—I wanted to try skiing.”

Tong Dong said she was jealous and suggested they go together sometime.

They shot the breeze for a while. Tong Dong was always the company's biggest gossip. While he was away, she'd collected all kinds of juicy gossip from everywhere and couldn't wait to spill it.

The Spring Festival Gala was the usual—a grand, pompous choir that made Lin Haoda sleepy. But Tong Dong's dramatized stories immediately snapped him awake, and he listened with full concentration and great interest.

Guan Junshan came out of the bathroom. He wanted to ask Lin Haoda if he wanted to shower now—there was less than half an hour until the New Year. He called out a couple of times, but no answer.

He figured Lin Haoda had dozed off while waiting. After drying his hair, a towel around his neck and bare-chested, he walked into the living room. The house had underfloor heating, which was more effective than central air conditioning. Guan Junshan walked over and turned the temperature down a bit, then called out again: “Hao Da.”

Lin Haoda had his earphones in and was totally absorbed in the dramatic stories Tong Dong was spinning. He sat bolt upright, his back to Guan Junshan, perfectly still.

Guan Junshan raised a hand to wipe the water droplets from his cheek. Worried that Lin Haoda would get a stiff neck if he continued sleeping like that, he reluctantly stepped closer, intending to carry him back to bed. The moment his fingers touched Lin Haoda’s shoulder, Lin Haoda suddenly flinched.

Then he slowly tilted his head back, his gaze meeting Guan Junshan’s. With a somewhat dazed look, he blinked slowly, as if wondering why Guan Junshan had suddenly appeared.

“Go sleep on the bed.” Guan Junshan slid his hand down to grasp Lin Haoda’s arm and coaxed him softly, “Be good. You won’t be comfortable here.”

Lin Haoda didn’t say anything. He raised a hand and took off one earphone. On the other end, Tong Dong had already started screaming, her voice piercing enough to cut through the deafening, firecracker-filled night sky.

“Lin Haoda!” She waved her arms and legs on the video, yelling exaggeratedly, “You, you, you…” After stammering for a while, she finally managed to form a complete question: “When did you two get together?”

“You were keeping this from me? That’s way too unprincipled!”

Lin Haoda took off the other earphone as well and switched to speaker mode. “I wasn’t keeping it from you,” he said, hesitating and stammering, “The situation is a bit complicated. I was planning to tell you when I got back.”

“No, wait.” Tong Dong’s sharp gossip instincts kicked in, and in her mind, she naturally connected all the overlooked clues. “So you were so eager to take leave and go abroad earlier—it had nothing to do with wanting to go on a trip alone to clear your head!”

“…”

Guan Junshan threw on a jacket and naturally sat down next to Lin Haoda, his half-face appearing on the screen: “Tong Dong, happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, happy New Year, President Guan! May you have great fortune in the new year and make a fortune!”

“…You’ve got it wrong.” Lin Haoda quickly interrupted their back-and-forth and steered the conversation back. “I wasn’t thinking that much at the time.”

Tong Dong was already immune to this explanation and immediately retorted, “Then if you had nothing to hide, why didn’t you just come out and say it? Why make up one excuse after another until now, when I caught you red-handed, you have no choice but to admit it?”

Lin Haoda couldn’t answer and could only resort to a standard line: “You’re overthinking it.”

“President Guan! President Guan!” Tong Dong refused to give up and immediately called for backup to judge. “What do you think? Am I right or not? Isn’t that the logic?”

Guan Junshan let out a hum. Lin Haoda immediately looked up at him, but Guan Junshan shut his mouth and said nothing.

Tong Dong snorted and joked, “I can see you two! No lovey-dovey allowed!”

Lin Haoda cleared his throat and came up with another weak excuse: “It’s almost midnight. Happy New Year. I’m going to bed.”

Tong Dong wasn’t foolish; she saw right through him. “I can see it’s still bright there. It’s still early. There’s no way you’re going to bed so soon.”

Lin Haoda couldn’t think of another excuse. He was about to toss the phone to Guan Junshan and let them chat all night when, at that moment, a vague male voice came from the other end of the video: “Tong Dong, aren’t you done yet? It’s almost midnight. Where did you put the firecrackers?”

On both sides of the screen, four eyes met in silence.

Lin Haoda frowned and slowly realized, “That’s not right. That voice sounds so familiar…”

Tong Dong immediately started laughing it off. Now it was her turn to talk around the subject, frantically trying to cover the camera on the sly.

Lin Haoda said sternly, “Don’t you dare cover it! And you’d better come clean—are you in a relationship—?”

Before he could finish, a figure flitted across the screen. Another person appeared beside Tong Dong, as if by magic.

“Brother Haoda, it’s me.” Xiao Ye naturally reached out and put his arm around Tong Dong’s shoulder, “Sorry, I’ve been meaning to say hi to you.”

“Xiao Ye?!” Lin Haoda gasped, eyes wide with disbelief. “When did you two become a thing??”

Tong Dong gave a shy smile, “Ah… I’m not telling.”