After entering the hotel, Zhang Jin’an logged out of WeChat and handed the phone back to Xiao Zhou. Tang Shang coordinated with the lobby manager to select a well-lit spot for the group photo.
“Everyone, find your places. Once we’re done, we’ll head back to our rooms for some well-deserved rest,” Tang Shang directed.
Zhang Jin’an’s spot was easy to find—the front row. He didn’t care whether he was in the center or off to the side, so he stood quietly to the side, observing.
He looked around the hotel where he had stayed for three months, feeling a sudden wave of sentimentality. Every time he finished a project and prepared to leave, he felt a sense of lingering attachment.
As Zhang Jin’an scanned the room, his gaze eventually landed on the entrance. Just then, someone walked in.
The person carried a messenger bag and was dressed in a pure white long-sleeved sweatshirt and deep blue jeans. He wore a white cap and a face mask, leaving only his eyes visible.
“I’ll stand here…”
“Then I’ll be next to you…”
People were laughing and going about their business. Some might have noticed the newcomer, but only with a passing glance. To them, he was just a stranger, but to Zhang Jin’an, he was anything but.
In the past, Zhang Jin’an never understood how fans could recognize their idols from just their eyes when they were bundled up so tightly. Now, he understood—it was because they had seen that person thousands of times. They were too familiar with everything about him.
There is a sensation that words cannot fully describe, called familiarity.
Watching the person walk toward them, Zhang Jin’an smiled and said, “I feel as though I have seen this brother before.”
Xiao Zhou squinted at the newcomer and asked in confusion, “Who is he? How could you have seen him before?”
“Though we have never met, why not treat it as a reunion after a long parting?” As Zhang Jin’an spoke, the person had already reached them, hearing every word clearly.
The man first took off his hat, then his mask. When his face was revealed, Xiao Zhou let out a startled cry. “No way! I stared at you for ages and didn’t realize it was you!”
Jiang Siyang smiled. “Jin’an-ge, congratulations on wrapping up. I figured you’d receive plenty of flowers, so I bought something else. I’ll give it to you later.”
“Good, good.” Zhang Jin’an was overjoyed. If there weren’t so many people around, he would have pulled him into an embrace long ago.
“Where are you staying?” Xiao Zhou asked.
“He’s already booked a room,” Zhang Jin’an answered for him.
“Oh—” Xiao Zhou nodded.
“And this,” Jiang Siyang said, pulling a bag out of his messenger bag and handing it to Zhang Jin’an.
Zhang Jin’an took it and opened it to find a box of medicine.
“I heard you sounding congested over the phone; you probably have a cold. I picked this up on my way here,” Jiang Siyang explained.
A wave of warmth flooded Zhang Jin’an’s heart. He turned to Xiao Zhou and said, “Look at Siyang. See how thoughtful he is?”
Xiao Zhou was left speechless.
“There’s also this,” Jiang Siyang said, pulling out another plastic bag.
“Man, you really bought a lot,” Xiao Zhou said, leaning in toward Jiang Siyang’s bag. “What else is in there?”
Jiang Siyang generously showed him. “That’s it. Just my phone and an umbrella. My clothes are in the car; Sister Liu will be up after she finishes parking.”
“What’s this?” Zhang Jin’an opened the second plastic bag. Inside were two lemons.
Jiang Siyang said earnestly, “Oh, aren’t you supposed to eat lemons on your livestream today? I was afraid you wouldn’t have time to get any, so I bought two.”
Zhang Jin’an: “…”
Fearing a kick from Zhang Jin’an, Xiao Zhou immediately covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, nodding vigorously. “Thoughtful. Truly. Thoughtful.”
“What’s wrong?” Jiang Siyang genuinely didn’t understand why Xiao Zhou was laughing.
“Nothing, he’s just lost his mind,” Zhang Jin’an said calmly. He tied the plastic bag shut and tossed it to Xiao Zhou.
Xiao Zhou caught the bag. He had almost composed himself, but seeing the lemons again made him lose it. He muttered, “Damn, I can’t take it. I have to tell Brother Qiang about this. It’s too freaking funny.”
Zhang Jin’an shot Xiao Zhou a sidelong glance. He was about to say something else to Jiang Siyang when he was interrupted by Tang Shang, who had finally noticed Jiang Siyang’s presence.
Tang Shang pulled Jiang Siyang over. “Jiang Siyang, you’re finally here! We saved a spot just for you. Come, come, let’s take the photo.”
Without giving Jiang Siyang a chance to protest, Tang Shang led him to the side and asked the manager to take the group picture.
After the photo, everyone chatted for a while before heading back to their rooms. Xiao Zhou went to help with the luggage, while Zhang Jin’an and Jiang Siyang trailed behind the crowd.
“You only have three days off this time?” Zhang Jin’an asked.
Jiang Siyang shook his head and said happily, “Four days. Sister Liu managed to get me an extra day last week. She felt some of the events weren’t necessary for me to attend. Even though it might mean less money, I’m primarily an actor, and my energy should be spent on acting. She said those promotional appearances are just a waste of time and that anyone could fill the spot, so she spoke to the company.”
“True. Ideally, they should be getting you more scripts rather than commercial appearances. Even though you can sing, it’s not your main focus,” Zhang Jin’an shrugged. “But once you’re with a company, many things are out of your hands. Everyone has to make a living. Take *Hidden Shadows* for example—the company originally didn’t want me to take it because the pay was low. Fortunately, investors came in later and the salary went up, so they stopped complaining.”
“Mhm,” Jiang Siyang nodded.
The crowd split into four groups for the elevators. Being at the back, they had to wait a moment.
“Did you watch Teacher Gu’s livestream?” Zhang Jin’an pulled out his phone.
“Not yet, but I saw the messages in the group chat,” Jiang Siyang said.
“Her bickering with Su Zhiyang is funnier than a comedy sketch.” Zhang Jin’an opened Gu Yirou’s stream.
Gu Yirou had finished her makeup and was chatting with the audience. She was wearing white pajamas, her eyeshadow was a rainbow of colors, and her colored contacts really did seem to shimmer with seven hues under the light.
Fortunately, Gu Yirou was stunningly beautiful; the look was entirely carried by her face. The viewers were commenting that while the makeup was that of a "tacky spirit girl," the person was Aphrodite herself.
Jiang Siyang swallowed hard and said diplomatically, “Sister Gu’s makeup is… very impressive.”
Gifts were flying across the screen. Zhang Jin’an noticed that the top donor was someone named “@Humphrey.”
Zhang Jin’an naturally knew who that was and couldn’t help but chuckle. “That kid He Yuanwen… he really is willing to drop a fortune for a fair lady.”
Jiang Siyang was surprised to hear that name from Zhang Jin’an. He blinked. “He Yuanwen?”
“This is his Weibo,” Zhang Jin’an said, enthusiastically pointing it out to Jiang Siyang. “Humphrey.”
“You know him, Ge?” Jiang Siyang asked.
Zhang Jin’an immediately caught the implication. “You know him too?”
“We met at a mall,” Jiang Siyang said.
“Oh, I know him because his father has business dealings with my dad. I’ve had dinner at his house a few times,” Zhang Jin’an explained. “He looks fierce, but he’s actually a total coward. His pursuit tactics are so old-fashioned—just throwing money at her. But this is Sister Gu we’re talking about; she’s not exactly short on cash…”
Just as Zhang Jin’an finished speaking, Gu Yirou said on screen, “I see everyone has been sending gifts. Let me just say this: I’ll tally up the money later and post it on Weibo. All the tips you’ve given will be donated to the project building primary schools in mountainous regions.”
“See?” Zhang Jin’an shook his head with a smile. “He Yuanwen is in for a tough time.”
“You knew he liked Sister Gu?” Jiang Siyang asked.
“I guessed it. Every three sentences he says to me are about Sister Gu. It’s obvious what he’s thinking,” Zhang Jin’an found it hilarious. “He acts so capable in front of me, but he’s a wimp in front of her. I’d bet fifty cents that Sister Gu has absolutely no idea he likes her.”
Zhang Jin’an’s mind whirled, and he whispered to Jiang Siyang, “Open WeChat and send a message to Gu Yirou.”
Jiang Siyang obediently took out his phone. “What should I write?”
“Just say that even though it’s being donated to the Hope Project, the top donor still deserves a shout-out.”
Jiang Siyang sent the message as instructed, and the two of them watched Zhang Jin’an’s phone.
Gu Yirou picked up her phone and read aloud, “Jiang Siyang says, even though it’s being donated to the Hope Project, the top donor still deserves a shout-out.”
— *It’s Siyang!!*
— *Four-Sheep has entered the chat!!!*
— *Sheep sheep sheep sheep sheep sheep!*
— *Has Siyang already learned professional terms like ‘top donor’?*
— *Ahhh, my boyfriend is here!!!*
— *Sheep! Get on Weibo already!*
“Let me see who the top donor is…” Gu Yirou leaned in closer. “Hum…”
Gu Yirou paused and then smiled. “He Yuanwen?”
The viewers began asking who He Yuanwen was. Some clicked on his Weibo and returned to report that he was a handsome guy from a wealthy family.
“Here it comes, here it comes,” Zhang Jin’an said, already knowing what was about to happen. “I’m ready to laugh.”
Jiang Siyang didn’t understand, so he could only keep his eyes glued to the screen.
The next second, Gu Yirou faced the camera and thumped her chest twice with her fist. “He Yuanwen, you will always be my good brother.”
*Damn.*
“Hahaha—hahahahaha—I knew it!” Before he could die of laughter, Zhang Jin’an hurriedly said to Jiang Siyang, “Siyang, give me your phone. I’m going to send a message.”
Jiang Siyang hummed in agreement and handed over his phone, feeling a strange sense of admiration. To be able to predict something like that—as expected of Zhang Jin’an.
“Done,” Zhang Jin’an said, returning the phone.
Just then, the elevator arrived. They stepped inside, standing at the very front. Zhang Jin’an turned down the volume on the phone so they could watch together.
“Huh? Jiang Siyang sent a voice message.” Gu Yirou tapped the message, but Zhang Jin’an’s voice came out of the phone: “He Yuanwen, this teaches us a lesson—Sister Gu will always be your Sister Gu.”
Gu Yirou looked confused and played it again. She still didn’t get it. “What does that mean?”
The bullet comments, however, were exploding with shock at Zhang Jin’an’s sudden appearance.
— *Wait? Isn’t that Big Brother’s voice?*
— *I thought it was from Jiang Siyang? Why is it Zhang Jin’an?*
— *???*
— *Big Brother, why are you there?*
— *Zhang Jin’an?*
Gu Yirou finally reacted after seeing the comments. “Oh, right, isn’t this Jiang Siyang’s account? Zhang Jin’an, why are you there?”
“I’m here to visit the set. They wrapped up today,” Jiang Siyang replied immediately.
The elevator reached their floor, and the two of them stepped out. After saying their goodbyes to the others, everyone returned to their respective rooms. The hallway grew empty, leaving only Zhang Jin’an and Jiang Siyang.
They reached Zhang Jin’an’s door.
“So, Ge, are you going to livestream today?” Jiang Siyang asked.
“Of course,” Zhang Jin’an said with a smile. “You already bought the lemons. They’ll go bad if I just leave them.”
Usually, when staying in hotels for a production, people brought their computers since they might be there for months. The laptop Zhang Jin’an brought was powerful enough for gaming and streaming. It wasn’t his first time streaming, anyway. It was just eating lemons—better to get the pain over with quickly.
Zhang Jin’an opened the door. “Didn’t you say you had something to give me?”
“Ah, right.” Jiang Siyang followed him in and closed the door.
They didn’t go far, standing by the door in the light of the entryway.
Only after entering the room did Zhang Jin’an fully relax. He leaned his head on Jiang Siyang’s shoulder and whispered, “What are you giving me?”
It was just the scent of ordinary laundry detergent, yet Zhang Jin’an found it incredibly comforting.
“This.” Jiang Siyang’s movements as he took the item out of his bag were extremely careful, as if he were afraid of bumping into Zhang Jin’an. Zhang Jin’an straightened up to look. Jiang Siyang held a small box; when opened, it revealed a bracelet woven from black cord.
Looking closer, Zhang Jin’an realized it wasn’t pure black; it was interwoven with gold silk. The gold threads wound together, ending in a dangling rhombus-shaped gold charm engraved with a tiny horse.
Zhang Jin’an couldn’t put it down. He immediately slipped it onto his wrist, turning it back and forth under the light.
“What is this bracelet? A token of our love?” Zhang Jin’an teased with a smile.
“As long as you like it,” Jiang Siyang said.
“Of course I like it. I like anything you give me.” Zhang Jin’an tightly gripped Jiang Siyang’s hand. “Aren’t you free tomorrow and the day after? I’ll make a reservation for dinner. There’s a place by West Lake called Guiyu Shanfang. It sounds nice. I’ve been waiting for you to come so we could go together.”
Jiang Siyang didn’t say a word, simply watching Zhang Jin’an with a constant smile. Only after Zhang Jin’an finished did he respond, “Okay.”
Zhang Jin’an was so happy that even when he was livestreaming himself eating lemons, he didn’t find them sour. The viewers, however, were a bit worried, thinking the lemons had broken his brain. Who would suddenly start laughing while eating a lemon? It got to the point where fans on the Super Topic were saying Zhang Jin’an had gone crazy from the acidity.
But Zhang Jin’an didn’t care at all. He even pointedly fiddled with the bracelet. No one really noticed the detail, but he was still happy. Others didn’t understand, but he and Jiang Siyang did.
“Anything else you want to ask? … When will I stream again? I’ll stream whenever I feel like it…” Zhang Jin’an touched the bracelet again. “How many watches do I have now? Let me think… one cabinet holds ten… I think it’s over forty now… Who’s the best at games in the group chat and who’s the worst? Well, as everyone knows, Sister Gu is the strongest healer. Su Zhiyang is, to be honest, pretty good too. Teacher Qian Shan is a veteran player with lots of experience. Siyang is a newcomer, so it’s true he’s not very skilled, but you can’t say he’s bad… When did I ever say ‘there’s no newbie zone in esports, if you’re bad, you’re bad’? I don’t remember that.”
— *Didn’t you say six months ago that esports doesn’t distinguish between men and women, and if you’re bad, you’re bad?*
— *? Big Brother, you’re actually going back on your word?*
— *The King of Double Standards.*
— *So biased, I love it.*
“I’m biased? I’m perfectly impartial, okay. Don’t ask about my private life. Any other difficult questions? Ask something that’s actually bothering you.” Zhang Jin’an glanced at his watch. “Not much time left, I’m ending the stream soon.”
The bullet comments immediately flooded the screen.
— *Impartial Zhang Jin’an.*
— *Impartial Zhang Jin’an.*
— *Impartial Zhang Jin’an.*
— *Impartial Zhang Jin’an.*
Zhang Jin’an pretended not to see them, searching for a real question amidst the sea of “Impartial Zhang Jin’an.”
“Let’s see… someone asked how to view relationships between classmates,” Zhang Jin’an said. “For this, I personally feel that if you can get along, then get along. If you can’t—and if it’s not your fault—then don’t force yourself or others to coexist. Find true friends. Like it says in *Equal Difference*: ‘What teachers can teach you is what they know; what you must learn is how to judge whether that information is useful to you.’ Don’t be fooled by how simple that sentence sounds. Some people live their whole lives in a muddle, never figuring it out.”
The comments filled with “nsdd.”
Zhang Jin’an took a sip of water. “Alright, I’m heading off now. Goodbye, everyone. Get some sleep.” He waved to the camera and shut down the stream.
Zhang Jin’an immediately picked up his phone and searched for Tuanyuan’s Weibo. Sure enough, she had posted several times in a row.
[@SystemRestrictedTuanyuan]: I’m floored. Sister Gu was streaming today, Yang sent a message, but Big Brother’s voice came out. At that moment I was literally: ?!!!!!!! I really felt the ship sailing!
[@SystemRestrictedTuanyuan]: LMAO, did Big Brother go crazy from the lemons? First time I’ve seen someone laugh while eating a lemon?
[@SystemRestrictedTuanyuan]: Only thought for today: Big Brother is seriously handsome, and his hands are so sexy. P.S. Besides the watch, it looks like Big Brother bought a new bracelet today [Screenshot].
[@SystemRestrictedTuanyuan]: T_T Big Brother’s philosophy is so deep. “Some people live their whole lives in a muddle, never figuring it out.” My heart is fluttering for Big Brother. I’ve regretted not being born ten years earlier several times now; I want to be his girlfriend [Pleading face].
[@PlumBlossomsOnlyInOctober] replied to [@SystemRestrictedTuanyuan]: To be honest, as soon as Big Brother speaks, I’ve already decided our future child’s name will be Zhang Plum Blossom.
[@SystemRestrictedTuanyuan] replied to [@PlumBlossomsOnlyInOctober]: Holy shit hahahahahahahaha.
…
Zhang Jin’an scrolled through. The comments were all incredibly excited, many consisting of nothing but fifty “ahhh”s.
“It’s hard on them, staying up this late to watch,” Zhang Jin’an chuckled.
He posted the total amount from the livestream gifts on Weibo, transferred the money to the donation platform, and only then said goodnight to Jiang Siyang before falling into a peaceful sleep.
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
精神小妹 | Spirit girl / Tacky girl | A slang term for a specific subculture of young girls often associated with loud, tacky fashion and makeup.
nsdd | You're right | Abbreviation for "Ni Shuo De Dui" (你说的对).
y1sy | To be honest | Abbreviation for "Yi Shi Shuo Yi" (一事说一), meaning "to tell it like it is."
同等差别 | Equal Difference | The name of a fictional book or drama mentioned in the text.
桂语山房 | Guiyu Shanfang | A well-known high-end restaurant in Hangzhou near West Lake.
希望工程 | Hope Project | A Chinese public welfare project established to help children in poverty-stricken areas get an education.
超话 | Super Topic | A feature on Weibo similar to a subreddit or a dedicated fan forum.
四羊 | Four-Sheep | A nickname for Jiang Siyang (Siyang sounds like "four sheep" in Chinese).
