Because of Gu Qichi’s illness, the program’s livestream had to be delayed. And with the Lunar New Year approaching, the production team of I’ll Accompany You to the End suspended filming for two episodes, deciding to resume both the livestream and the variety show recording after the Lantern Festival.

The prerecorded broadcast of I’ll Accompany You to the End that had aired on satellite TV four days earlier had also performed exceptionally well. Its average ratings reached 1.114%, and once Gu Qichi and Bo Yu appeared, the numbers shot directly up to 1.536%.

In addition to investment from the Bo Group, a large number of advertisers were already negotiating partnerships with the production team, hoping to secure more product placement opportunities.

Of course, some brands had also begun tentatively reaching out to Gu Qichi, hoping to make use of his promotional appeal. Some even wanted to sign him directly as a spokesperson or brand ambassador.

Since Gu Qichi was sick, Bo Yu had taken him to a private hospital for a thorough examination. Even after confirming that there were no major problems, he still didn’t dare let his guard down. He told Wen Xi to turn down all of Gu Qichi’s current work so he could focus on recovering in peace.

The production team had no real objections. After all, there were still the variety segments of the other four couples airing on satellite TV. Besides, when the boss had spoken, they weren’t exactly in a position to argue.

And besides that, the production team was still holding onto the footage of Bo Yu celebrating Gu Qichi’s birthday. Once “Qichi Xing” and “Fengqi” were released, who could possibly compete with that?

Yu Qin Gu Zong would absolutely dominate the internet and shoot straight to the top of the trending charts.

The program team was extremely confident about that.

With so much unexpected free time on his hands, Gu Qichi was more than happy to laze around like a salted fish. He wasn’t in any hurry to work. The only problem was that Bo Yu cared for him and fussed over him so much that he was honestly finding it a little hard to cope.

Ever since being hospitalized, he had not been allowed to eat anything spicy, nor anything strongly flavored.

Pot after pot of medicinal soup simmered by Bo Yu at home was delivered to the hospital, each one carrying that heavy, unmistakable bitterness unique to Chinese herbal medicine, charging straight into Gu Qichi’s nose.

Gu Qichi stared at the little clay pot in front of him as though facing a mortal enemy. His nose wrinkled, and his eyes were full of naked disgust.

At moments like this, a rare childishness would show through.

He would even rack his brains trying to avoid drinking the pot of medicinal broth.

More than once, at moments like these, Gu Qichi would find excuses to send Bo Yu away. Seeing that beautiful face of his twist into such a look—wanting to curse but holding it back—Bo Yu couldn’t help finding it funny.

Each time, Bo Yu very cooperatively “went out to sit for a while,” while in reality he would secretly lean outside the door and watch Gu Qichi’s every move through the little window.

After checking several times to make sure Bo Yu had “gone far away,” the young man would start glancing around for somewhere he could quickly dispose of the medicinal soup.

Afraid of clogging the plumbing, Gu Qichi didn’t dare dump the whole thing down the drain. He would only secretly pour out the broth.

At first, he hadn’t done it in the bathroom. Originally, Gu Qichi had been secretly dumping the broth into the flowerpots in the room.

But the plants quickly ended up contaminated by the awful herbal smell. The black soil gave off a weird odor, and even the leaves turned yellow and droopy, hanging there weakly.

Feeling truly guilty, Gu Qichi stopped tormenting the poor plants and instead turned his attention to the toilet.

But usually, he could only manage to pour out half of it before Bo Yu came back right on schedule.

After a few tries, Bo Yu had gotten the timing down perfectly—enough to leave Gu Qichi with just one small bowl of soup still left to drink.

Just like today.

Gu Qichi was already pouring it out as quickly as he could, but he still had to make sure the chunks of meat didn’t fall in, so he failed to empty it all in one go.

A tentative rustling sound came from the doorway. Gu Qichi’s eyes sharpened at once. Under his breath, he cursed, “Why are you back so early today?” Then he hurriedly picked up the clay pot and dashed back toward the hospital bed.

Hidden behind the door, Bo Yu lifted his lashes lazily and happened to catch sight of Gu Qichi scrambling back to the bed in three hurried steps.

The hospital floor wasn’t as clean as the one at home, and Gu Qichi had finally learned his lesson. This time he wasn’t running around barefoot the way he did at home. Instead, he had on a pair of oversized slippers that slapped lightly against the floor as he ran.

Afraid Bo Yu would suddenly come in and catch him red-handed with the pot, Gu Qichi deliberately hid it behind his back, using his body to block it.

After confirming again and again that Bo Yu still hadn’t entered, Gu Qichi cautiously glanced at the little broth that was left and let a look of despair show on his face.

He had run so fast that a faint flush had risen to his cheeks, and his breathing was a little unsteady.

Bo Yu found it amusing. A sparse smile rippled into his eyes. Taking advantage of the moment, he pushed the door open and went in.

In two quick strides he reached the bedside and teased, “Why is your face red? Is the air conditioner too warm?”

Gu Qichi cleared his throat awkwardly, his gaze drifting. “Maybe the blanket’s too thick. Or maybe the soup’s too nourishing. Don’t make it again next time.”

Bo Yu glanced at him, picked up the clay pot, and discovered that exactly one small bowl’s worth of soup was left. Moving naturally, he ladled out the last of it and held it in front of Gu Qichi.

Gu Qichi’s expression changed instantly.

His lashes flickered a few times. He turned his head slightly and tried bargaining with him.

“I’ve already drunk a lot. I really can’t drink any more, Bo Yu. There’s only this little bit left—why don’t you drink it?”

Bo Yu looked at him calmly and unhurriedly, then scooped up a spoonful and brought it to his mouth.

Tilting his head back, Gu Qichi tried once more to persuade Bo Yu not to waste food, and that he genuinely couldn’t drink anymore. When several rounds of persuasion failed, he started looking for other excuses.

“Bo Yu, take me home. I haven’t been home in ages.”

“Ah Ci definitely misses me too. She hasn’t seen me for so long—if I get back too late, she’ll definitely throw a fit.”

“And you know I hate hospitals. If I keep staying here, that’s what’ll really make me depressed.”

The spoon tapped lightly against the bowl, making a crisp sound. Bo Yu narrowed his eyes slightly and said in a lazy tone, “Drink the soup, and I’ll take you home.”

Gu Qichi: “…”

When reasoning got him nowhere, he switched to using his looks.

Snatching both spoon and bowl aside, Gu Qichi hooked his arms around Bo Yu’s neck and yanked him down hard, as though afraid he might run away.

Their lips and tongues met.

Gu Qichi parted his lips and let Bo Yu lay siege to him at will.

Bo Yu kissed him hard, sucking insistently at the tip of his tongue while also licking along the inside of his mouth. Gu Qichi actually hadn’t had any soup at all—he’d only eaten an orange to cut the greasiness—but he had completely forgotten that. It wasn’t until the sweet citrus scent blended through their mouths that he realized something was wrong.

But stopping now was even more impossible.

Gu Qichi tipped his head back, eyes closed, his lashes trembling slightly. The root of his tongue was sore from how hard Bo Yu was sucking on it, and even while kissing, he was still distractedly trying to think of a way out.

Bo Yu opened his eyes, noticed that Gu Qichi wasn’t fully focused, and bit lightly down on his tongue.

“Pay attention,” he said indistinctly.

“After the kiss, I’ll take you home.”

Gu Qichi’s eyes were damp.

Soon he was lifted and settled onto Bo Yu’s lap, clutching his shoulders as he continued kissing him from above.

The wet sounds of kissing filled the room, soft and sticky, the temperature steadily rising.

Only after he had kissed him to his satisfaction did Bo Yu put him back on the bed.

He helped Gu Qichi change clothes, then placed a hand on his waist and gave it a squeeze, looking very satisfied.

“You’ve finally put on a little weight recently. Looks like my cooking’s improved a lot.”

Following his gaze, Gu Qichi looked down at his own waist and stomach. The muscle lines he had trained out before had blurred a little, replaced with softer, fuller flesh, smooth and pale like a swell of creamy foam.

“When I get home, I need to start working out again. If Director Jiang An sees that I’ve gotten fatter, he’ll definitely scold me.”

Bo Yu frowned and reached out to pinch his cheek. There was still barely any flesh there.

“You’re not fat at all. There’s no need to lose weight.”

Gu Qichi looked up at him, the corners of his eyes still faintly flushed red.

“Actors have very strict on-camera requirements, especially for film. The standards are even harsher on the big screen.”

“This is my first movie, and my first time as the male lead. Of course I have to prepare properly.”

Bo Yu could only look at him helplessly.

…

After the two of them got home, Gu Qichi finally saw Ah Ci again.

With no one in the house spoiling her recklessly anymore—and with healthy eating now strictly enforced—the silver-shaded cat had slimmed down quite a bit. At least she no longer looked like a little pig, and Gu Qichi found that deeply gratifying.

While petting the cat, he even had the leisure to joke, “The revolution for weight loss is not yet complete. Comrade Ah Ci still needs to work hard.”

Ah Ci let out a pitiful little “meow.”

Gu Qichi remained unmoved.

Ah Ci flopped down on him again, swishing her tail over him and rubbing her head against him, doing everything she could to get Gu Qichi to rescue her from this utterly un-cat-like life she was now living.

Bo Yu walked over carrying a plate of freshly washed fruit. Looking down at the silver-shaded cat’s shameless attempts at being cute, he curved his lips into a faintly mocking smile.

“Don’t give her too much cat food these next couple of days. The doctor said being too fat is bad for her health. Ah Ci is already close to an unhealthy line.”

“Oh, right. The doctor also said that as Ah Ci’s parents, you and I both need to supervise her. We absolutely can’t spoil her anymore.”

The softness in Gu Qichi’s heart immediately hardened again. Stroking Ah Ci’s back, he stared seriously into her eyes.

“Did you hear that, Ah Ci? You have to take weight loss seriously.”

Ah Ci bared her teeth at Bo Yu in displeasure, looking very much like she wanted to leap up and bite him.

Later that evening, Wen Xi called and asked whether he wanted to do another livestream before the New Year.

“Even though I already told your big fans that you’re perfectly healthy now, they still don’t believe me,” Wen Xi complained indignantly. “Your sycamore trees are actually rebelling under our studio’s Weibo account, terrified that I’m overworking and abusing you or something!”

She sounded thoroughly aggrieved. When Gu Qichi had collapsed, she had rushed to the scene immediately. She had been checking in at the hospital every single day. If Bo Yu hadn’t later found excuses to stop her, she absolutely would have been one of the people picking Gu Qichi up from the hospital.

Instead, it had turned out like this—Bo Yu had told absolutely no one and simply carried Gu Qichi straight home without a word.

“And Bo Yu is too much too! How could he not even tell me you were being discharged?!” Wen Xi kept ranting on the other end of the call. “I even prepared a discharge gift for you, and you never got it.”

Gu Qichi sat on the sofa with a cat in his lap, listening to Wen Xi chatter on and on while turning his head to look at Bo Yu, who was cooking. A faint smile lingered at the corner of his lips.

“Sister Wen Xi, don’t be mad. I’ll help you scold him,” Gu Qichi said softly. “As for the livestream, I’m fine with it. Everyone’s been really worried about me. I should let them know I’m safe so they can relax.”

“Oh, and I should also clear your name. You’ve never exploited me at all,” he added teasingly.

Wen Xi sounded embarrassed instead. She muttered a few things, then reminded Gu Qichi once again to take care of his health before finally hanging up.

Bo Yu finished cooking, untied his apron, and called Gu Qichi over to eat.

The moment Gu Qichi sat down with the cat in his arms, he heard Bo Yu say, “This New Year, I’m taking you back to the main house with me.”

Gu Qichi gave a slow, blank little “Ah?”

Bo Yu continued, “Don’t worry. My mother is very gentle. She’ll like you very much. You’ve met Bo Song too, and Zhaozhao’s been making a fuss about wanting to see you again. I’ve already talked it over with them. This New Year, our whole family will spend it together.”

Gu Qichi’s hand paused around his chopsticks.

His heart felt as though it had been dropped into a glass of fizzy soda—sour, swollen, bubbling over.

Bo Yu had said:

Our whole family.

He had never really had a family before, because Gu Chengtian, Geng Tingxun, and Gu Yuan’an had never counted as one.

The lights above the kitchen island were bright, throwing dazzling reflections off the polished counter.

Steam rose in soft white clouds from the rice, blurring part of his vision.

Bo Yu placed a serving of stir-fried lettuce into Gu Qichi’s bowl, then picked out a piece of boneless fish for him and said casually, “It doesn’t matter whether your previous New Years were happy or not. This time, I’m with you. We’re going to spend a happy New Year together.”

What he didn’t say was—

The love the Gu family never gave you, I’ll make up for all of it.

Gu Qichi, you’re going to receive every bit of love you deserve.