The bus was filled with the rumble of the engine, the complaints of passengers, and the hum of conversations. These sounds gave Jiang Ruotang a sense of reality, a tangible feeling of being among people.

Lu Guifan desperately wanted to know what made Jiang Ruotang cry so hard, even though he had accepted his roses. He didn’t want to pry into Jiang Ruotang’s secrets; he just felt incredibly pained for him.

He didn’t know how long passed, but the bus gradually emptied, and they finally got seats, settling by the window. Jiang Ruotang hugged the roses tightly with one hand, turned, and embraced Lu Guifan with the other, burying his head in his chest. To outsiders, such a big guy acting so clingy might seem overly dramatic, but Lu Guifan felt immense satisfaction because Jiang Ruotang was relying on him. He gently raised his hand to cover Jiang Ruotang’s face, shielding his unrestrained expression from others’ view.

---

At their stop, they had to alight. Lu Guifan accompanied Jiang Ruotang for nearly half an hour before they reached the bottom of the Jiang family’s building. The streetlights illuminated Jiang Ruotang’s face. With wide eyes, he looked at Lu Guifan with a firm and solemn gaze, saying, “The roses you gave me, they’re mine now.”

“Mhm.” Lu Guifan nodded, then lowered his head, moving closer to Jiang Ruotang until their noses almost brushed. “The meaning of the roses is also yours. Since you’ve accepted them, you can’t return them.”

Jiang Ruotang broke into a bright smile, a smile so genuine that Lu Guifan found it hard to leave. “You know it well. No returns, no exchanges for this one.”

Jiang Ruotang was about to hug Lu Guifan again when he suddenly saw the Jiang family’s car approaching in the distance. It was probably Xiao Gao picking up Zhao Yunshu. Feeling a bit awkward to linger, Lu Guifan reached out and gently touched Jiang Ruotang’s head. “I’ll head back first.”

“Okay, text me when you get home.”

“Alright.”

With that, Lu Guifan turned to leave. Jiang Ruotang quickly went inside, carrying the large bouquet of roses into his room. From the window, he looked out and saw Lu Guifan talking to Zhao Yunshu. Zhao Yunshu had gotten out of the car and said it was too late, asking Xiao Gao to make another trip to drive Lu Guifan home. Jiang Ruotang exhaled in relief.

He ran downstairs to the living room, searched for a long time before finding a vase, put the roses in it, and placed them by his bedside. In the past, he would always send flowers to a certain someone, but that person would disregard them. Later, he stopped doing such foolish things, feeling they were too redundant. Roses wither easily; once they bloomed and faded, there was nothing left. He didn’t understand the meaning of “once possessed.”

But today, he received roses from Lu Guifan. This unreal feeling made Jiang Ruotang fear that everything was just a dream. A dream from which he would wake up to only a cold hospital bed and the smell of disinfectant in the air.

He didn’t know how long he was lost in thought before his phone vibrated on the table.

Lu Guifan: [I’m home. Send me your Dou Dizhu account and password.]

“Huh?” Jiang Ruotang frowned, scrolling back through his messages. He then saw that he had complained about losing terribly at Dou Dizhu, and Lu Guifan had promised to win his chips back.

Though a bit silly, Jiang Ruotang felt incredibly happy. He immediately sent his account and password. Only after sending the password did he realize it was Lu Guifan’s birthday!

Who uses their “good friend,” “class monitor,” or “desk-mate’s” birthday as a password? Isn’t this just “Sima Zhao’s heart, known to all passers-by”?

As long as Lu Guifan wasn’t completely clueless, he’d guess that Jiang Ruotang had been “coveting” him for a long time.

And indeed, as Lu Guifan expected, he paused slightly the moment he saw that string of numbers, but soon his lips curved into a smile.

[Received.]

Jiang Ruotang looked at these two words, suspecting that this straight-laced science guy… well, this straight-laced science guy probably hadn’t thought much of it at all.

“Received? Received what, you idiot?” Jiang Ruotang clenched his fist, looking as if he was about to smash his phone.

He was too happy. One moment he was hugging his phone, the next he was hugging his quilt, rolling around in bed. Then he opened his closet, buried his head inside, and took a deep sniff. There was only the scent of his own laundry detergent.

Is this what it feels like to deeply love someone and have that feeling reciprocated?

Jiang Ruotang waited a long time, but Lu Guifan didn’t send him another message.

Damn it, you actually went to play Dou Dizhu?

The happy beans aren’t the point, I am the point!

Though a bit helpless, Jiang Ruotang was also a little happy. Because someone like Lu Guifan, once he made a promise, he would definitely keep it.

Dou Dizhu was like this, and so was his promise to love him forever… probably.

Too excited, Jiang Ruotang sat up and found another sketchbook. He drew the bouquet of roses from every angle. Even the small flower buds hidden among the leaves, Jiang Ruotang found them cute and beautiful. Unconsciously, he finished an entire sketchbook. He touched the rose petals, thinking of taking them to the studio tomorrow to paint them in color. Even if they eventually withered, he would preserve their beautiful appearance on canvas.

Lost in thought, he fell asleep hugging the pillow beside him.

---

The next day, the first thing Jiang Ruotang did upon opening his eyes was grab his phone to check if Lu Guifan had messaged him.

…Nothing at all.

Then he opened his Dou Dizhu account. What the hell? In just one night, his account, which had been at negative five thousand happy beans, was now in the positive. And the happy bean balance was 520.

Jiang Ruotang smiled. A top student was a top student; he even controlled the scores so precisely!

“You played it so well that I can’t even use this account anymore!”

Because if he played, he would lose the 520 that Lu Guifan had won for him.

Jiang Ruotang sent two more words: [Are you there?]

Lu Guifan had been playing Dou Dizhu all night and was finally sleeping. His phone vibrated, and he woke up. Connecting this to how almost all their conversations began with these two words, Lu Guifan found it inexplicably cute, and his lips unconsciously curved into a smile.

[Of course. Did you sleep well last night?]

If he had slept well, Lu Guifan would be a little jealous, since he had played Dou Dizhu until dawn.

[Of course I slept well!]

Lu Guifan looked at this happy answer, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples.

The next message quickly followed: [If you don’t sleep well yourself, how can you sleep with others?]

Lu Guifan paused for a moment, realizing Jiang Ruotang was blatantly flirting. A never-before-felt sense of satisfaction welled up within him.

“How old are you, thinking about sleeping with others?”

Though he said this, Lu Guifan quickly asked him: [Who are the others?]

Not long after, an image was sent.

It was one of Jiang Ruotang’s sketches: a young boy standing in a bustling city among tall buildings, holding a bouquet of roses. The boy was handsome, and even in the grayscale image, his eyes were like maple syrup dripped into twilight, carefully solidified with love.

Isn’t this himself, who had just watched a movie with Jiang Ruotang yesterday?

Lu Guifan turned his face, unable to stop himself from smiling.

[I’m coming to find you.]

[Okay, looking delicious today too.]

Lu Guifan felt a little helpless. Perhaps only Jiang Ruotang in the whole world would use “delicious” to describe him.

Lu Guifan, who never cared about his appearance or clothes, for the first time combed his hair in front of the mirror. It was a bit long, but there wasn’t time to cut it. He opened his closet, found a relatively new T-shirt, and headed to Jiang Ruotang’s house.

Sister Juan opened the door for Lu Guifan. He didn’t see Jiang Ruotang in his room, so he guessed he had gone to the studio. He went up to the attic and found Jiang Ruotang packing two oil paintings. Lu Guifan went over to help and realized the main subject of the paintings was the exceptionally good-looking model.

Lu Guifan’s fingers stiffened slightly, and he casually asked, “Are you sending these two paintings to an exhibition?”

Jiang Ruotang, head down, still wrapping bubble wrap, said, “Huh? How could I? I’m sending these two paintings back to Ling Song.”

“Ling Song?”

Only then did Jiang Ruotang sense the emotion in Lu Guifan’s voice. His eyes lit up, like Columbus discovering a new continent, and he leaned towards Lu Guifan.

Lu Guifan stood straight, not avoiding him at all, just looking at Jiang Ruotang.

“Ling Song is an actor my dad is interested in for the male lead in Drunken Immortal Stage. But his luck hasn’t been great; he’s been suppressed by a film company CEO because he refused to accept under-the-table deals. My father was a bit worried about him, so I used the excuse of having him as a model to test him out.”

“Oh, how did you test him?”

This time it was Lu Guifan who leaned in close to Jiang Ruotang, a hint of teasing in his usually calm eyes. Especially as Jiang Ruotang’s nose almost touched his, but just as Jiang Ruotang leaned in, the other person straightened his back, leaving Jiang Ruotang hanging.

“Nothing much. Just made him hold an awkward pose for a long time to see if he had patience, if he’d get angry. Then I intentionally said I knew he couldn’t be the lead in Drunken Immortal Stage, to observe his reaction, like if he’d get mad with impotent rage. My father was mainly worried about his personality, whether he’d be sensitive and easily angered due to his experiences, making it hard to get along with other crew members.”

“Is that so? I thought you were also pretending to offer him a ‘casting couch’ deal.”

Lu Guifan’s gaze slowly shifted to Jiang Ruotang, which made Jiang Ruotang feel like he’d secretly thrown a party at home and Lu Guifan, who hadn’t been home for days, found beer caps under the sofa.

“How could that be! I haven’t even ‘cast couch-ed’ you!”

Seeing Jiang Ruotang so eager to prove himself, Lu Guifan chuckled softly, like the melodious resonance from a pine wood piano case. Jiang Ruotang felt a tingle from his ears to his heart.

Lu Guifan walked over and bent down. He took the bubble wrap and expertly wrapped the painting, adding, “Now you can think carefully about how to ‘cast couch’ me, Young Master Jiang.”

Jiang Ruotang’s face instantly turned red.

Lu Guifan, you’re actually this kind of Lu Guifan!

When the express delivery company arrived, Lu Guifan helped Jiang Ruotang take the paintings downstairs and handed them to the courier.

“You just gave the paintings to that actor, why?” Lu Guifan asked.

“Probably hoping that when he receives them, he’ll remember the sense of calm he had when he was captured in the painting. Hopefully, he can find the original intention of Ye Linzhou in Drunken Immortal Stage.”

After mailing the paintings, Lu Guifan asked again, “What about the painting you’re sending to the exhibition…”

Jiang Ruotang smiled slyly, “It’s done. Want to see it?”

Lu Guifan nodded. “Of course.”