Honesty is a fine trait, but it was one Shi Linchuan rarely displayed to the outside world—moreover, he seldom practiced it with himself. Perhaps it was because the price of honesty was “seeing into one’s own heart,” and he had no desire to peer into a place covered by a thick layer of dust.

He knew exactly what it looked like in there.

He had already been this way long before he ever met Xie Jinghe.

The room fell deathly quiet for a good while.

It felt like an awkward freeze.

And indeed, it was.

The moment the words left his mouth, Shi Linchuan regretted them. He desperately wished he could turn back time, swallow those words right back down, or seal Xie Jinghe’s ears so he couldn’t hear a single thing. But most unfortunately, the person in his arms had clearly heard every syllable with absolute clarity. After a brief, dazed expression, Xie Jinghe’s somewhat despondent eyes suddenly erupted with an immense, blinding brilliance!

Like two massive searchlights, dazzling and piercing.

Tsk. Practically blinding.

Shi Linchuan suddenly felt a wave of heat rush to his face, as if he had developed an acute case of photosensitivity; his cheeks burned furiously in an instant. Unable to bear it, he averted his face, bolted upright, and tried to shove Xie Jinghe back under the blanket so he could escape outside to catch the cold wind and cool down.

If I’d known, I would have asked that doctor guy for an allergy pill.

Shi Linchuan thought to himself with a spike of annoyance amidst the flurry of movement.

Unbeknownst to him, Xie Jinghe seemed to have read his mind completely. Refusing to cooperate to save his life, he thrashed and struggled frantically like a great white shark stranded on a beach, channeling every ounce of his strength into his lower half.

Shi Linchuan found his waist tightly locked by two legs, completely unable to pry them off no matter how hard he tore at them.

“Let go!”

“No! Where are you trying to go now?!”

After deadlocking with this great white shark—who seemed to have taken a hit of stimulants—for nearly ten minutes, Shi Linchuan finally admitted defeat. Panting heavily, he hovered over Xie Jinghe, one hand bracing himself by the pillow while the other pinned the younger man’s calf, still stubbornly making futile efforts.

Xie Jinghe wasn’t faring any better. Flushed red from exhaustion, he looked as though he had just run a full marathon.

In the dead of winter.

The two had just showered, only to break into a sweat all over again.

Xie Jinghe was presumably boiling hot; the moisture in his eyes had long since evaporated, replaced by fine beads of sweat breaking out across his forehead and the tip of his nose, gleaming slightly. He stared intensely at the man above him, his uninjured hand tightly gripping the man’s collar like a safety rope.

“Don’t leave. Translate what you just said for me.”

Shi Linchuan was currently wearing a fleece-lined sweater with a loose fit. The round neckline had been yanked into a distorted, sloppy gaping hole, revealing a fitted men’s ribbed tank top beneath his sharp collarbones, which perfectly outlined the definition of his muscles. It looked incredibly striking.

“Translate what?”

Shi Linchuan put on a foul expression, feigning ignorance.

Thinking he truly hadn’t understood, Xie Jinghe pursed his lips and laid it out in full detail, “When you just said ‘too happy,’ it means that when you’re with me, you do feel happy, right? And very happy at that.”

The moment those words landed.

Shi Linchuan instinctively pulled a face that screamed, “My ears have been contaminated.”

Seeing this somewhat contorted expression—resembling someone who had just seen a ghost—Xie Jinghe couldn’t help but suppress a smirk. He pressed on, “I’m going to count down from three. If you don’t say anything, it’s a tacit admission.”

“Alright, I’m starting. Three, two—”

Taking advantage of the split second right as the “one” sound formed in the throat—when the voice was still caught and the body relaxed—Shi Linchuan fiercely tickled the sole of Xie Jinghe’s foot. The moment he felt the vice-like grip around his waist release, he immediately bolted toward the door.

It looked remarkably like a sudden medical episode.

However, he still didn’t succeed.

Because while Xie Jinghe had released his legs, he hadn’t let go of his hands. He stepped barefoot right onto the floor, getting dragged along as they both charged out the door. Driven by momentum, the two of them slammed through the doorway with a loud bang, nearly unable to brake in time before hitting the wall, ending up in a posture that left a lot to the imagination.

Though, not exactly in a romantic sense.

Outside in the hallway.

The program crew’s staff member and the cameraman stood one behind the other, completely dumbfounded as they watched the two men tangled together with flushed faces. One of them was fiercely clutching the other’s collar, while the one being held looked utterly livid, his aura as low and menacing as the eve of a category-eight storm.

Staff: “…”

Cameraman: “…”

Did these two divorced guests just get into a fistfight while the cameras weren’t watching?

The air froze in silence for several seconds.

But the live-stream chatroom was already exploding with excitement.

【Holy crap! The broadcast director is a genius at cutting scenes! Every time it switches to the Midday-Midnight couple, it’s always high-stakes drama! Did these two actually start throwing hands?! It looks like the Movie King initiated it??】

【It’s probably because of that waiting segment this afternoon, right? Even though our civilian bro went over in the end, the Movie King literally stood out in the freezing wind for hours.】

【“It’s fine as long as you came.” [doge]】

【Give me back my tears! That split-screen fast cut earlier was so atmospheric, especially with their overlapping breathing sounds. It felt inexplicably heartbreaking and heavy. Cut to a few hours later, and you two are brawling in the hallway?!! [facepalm]】

【The other two couples are either hugging and crying or sitting down to talk about their lives over the past few years. Meanwhile, these two have a complete tonal shift. It’s wildly chaotic, like riding a roller coaster.】

【It’s almost 10 PM. Waiting for the traffic lights.】

【Hahahahahahaha the way they silently let go of each other and turned back into the room together is hilarious. Civilian bro yanked his collar completely sideways—hiss, that’s actually kind of sexy!】

【So intense.】

【Wait… something feels a bit off, let me look again.】

【Why were the fixed cameras in the room covered up? While the live stream was showing the other guests earlier, what on earth were these two doing? Will the crew edit and release this part? Honestly, just the audio would be fine, I’m so curious.】

【Holy crap, eagle eyes! They really were covered up!】

【The camera caught a glimpse of the bed, the sheets and blanket are a total mess. My theory is they fought all the way from the bed to the hallway, completely lost in the moment and losing track of time, until they got caught red-handed by the camera.】

【Wait, is this ‘fight’ a proper fight??】

【Looks like a real fight. Civilian bro’s face is completely sour, he turned his head away and won’t even look at the Movie King.】

【Not just sour, he’s flushed red from anger.】

【…】

At ten in the evening, the day’s live stream concluded on schedule.

Prompted by the staff, Shi Linchuan removed the coverings from the cameras. Even though this was now off-air hours, the edited version would include a large amount of unrevealed behind-the-scenes footage to entice viewers, so they still needed to accumulate material from the guests.

Tonight’s signal results were once again one red and one green.

Shi Linchuan picked red (no); Xie Jinghe picked green (yes).

It was exactly the same as yesterday.

However, given the fierce physical struggle from earlier, Xie Jinghe currently had no mental capacity to dwell on the signal results. He followed right behind the man like a little shadow, impossible to shake off.

The bathroom was narrow, making it exceptionally cramped for two grown men to squeeze into.

It felt as though even the oxygen was growing thin.

Shi Linchuan sat on a small plastic stool. By his feet sat a basin filled with hot water, containing his and Xie Jinghe’s undergarments. His hands were submerged in the water, scrubbing the fabric and creating a loud sloshing sound with every movement.

Xie Jinghe squatted across from him, staring at him intently. His uninjured hand was also soaked in the water, ostensibly helping to wash, but his fingers kept brushing and hooking against Shi Linchuan’s.

He didn’t look like he was there to help.

Instead, he looked like he was there to cause trouble—or rather, to behave like a rogue.

Accidentally catching a glimpse of Xie Jinghe’s face—which practically screamed that he was holding back a burning question—Shi Linchuan was so irritated that dark energy practically radiated from him. His movements grew increasingly aggressive, sending soapy water splashing out and soaking the floor.

Right at that moment.

Xie Jinghe suddenly stood up and locked the bathroom door.

Shi Linchuan: “…”

What now? Is he afraid I’m going to run away?

The next second.

Xie Jinghe squatted back down. That wet hand of his slipped back into the water, clearly harboring ulterior motives as he swirled it around, creating a miniature vortex in the basin.

The vortex seemed to carry a faint suction, trying to pull Shi Linchuan’s fingers into it.

All at once.

He heard Xie Jinghe ask in a very soft whisper,

“Linchuan, just now…”

“Shut up.”

“…were you blushing because you were shy?”

Having been blatantly slandered, Shi Linchuan exploded with rage!

(Sneaking away stealthily) (Runs away)