145.
Once we were seated at the restaurant, Gu Yiliang said he had no dietary restrictions and wasn’t picky, leaving the ordering up to me.

 

146.
Lies! Big fat lies!
The info I had said he didn’t like sweet dishes, anything too vinegary, or sweet-and-sour flavors. He didn’t like leeks, bitter melon, celery, or carrots. He wasn’t a fan of soups, preferred chicken over duck or goose, liked pork, beef, and lamb, but not fish. He loved crabs and shellfish, but not shrimp.
All of this precious data had been meticulously gathered by the Niangzi fans from various sources!
And how accurate was it?
Well, judging by how precise they were about me, it had to be reliable.

 

147.
I scanned the menu and said to the waiter: “One shredded chicken with chili oil, one crab stew (no shrimp), garlic stir-fried bok choy, and two bowls of white rice.”
Then I turned to Gu Yiliang, who looked a bit surprised. “Is that okay? Want something to drink?”
“…Sure.”
Gu Yiliang quickly masked his surprise and ordered a bottle of Jiaduobao (NT: a Chinese herbal tea) for himself, and a honey tea for me.

 

148.
Boyfriend material Gu Yiliang, ladies and gentlemen!
I sipped my iced honey tea in bliss.

 

149.
The dishes arrived quickly.
We picked up our chopsticks in perfect sync, lifted our rice bowls at the same time, and spooned some shredded chicken over our rice, gently pressing it down.
We were so in sync that we looked at each other and burst out laughing.

150.
We ate and drank slowly, chatting about random things. The conversation drifted to behind-the-scenes stories from filming.
Gu Yiliang laughed as he recalled how, during the shoot of a low-budget wuxia drama, the extras were so unprofessional and the props so cheap that he got accidentally smacked in the side with a sword during a fight scene. The sword even bent, and he had a bruise for days. He also talked about faulty harnesses...
I listened in horror, missing the crab with my chopsticks multiple times.
He noticed, paused mid-story, and placed a crab claw in my bowl: “But nothing like that’s happened since. Film sets are super safe now, especially with million-yuan budgets. Don’t worry.”
I nodded, unconvinced, and bit into the crab claw.
He asked with a chuckle, “You’ve never been injured on set?”
I replied without thinking, “Of course I have, but that’s different. When you get hurt…”

 

151.
I swallowed down the words “your fans would blame me completely” and clumsily corrected myself:
“… it hurts my heart?”

 

152.
And there it was—the ever-present awkwardness.
I let out a nervous laugh and busied myself piling food into his bowl, nearly shoving it straight into his mouth to stop him from speaking.
He hesitated, looked confused, then started serving me food in return.
So I gave him more.
He gave me even more.
I dumped all the crab claws into his bowl.
He picked the peppercorns out of the chicken and put them in mine.
I grabbed a spoon and drizzled sauce over his rice.
He refilled my empty cup of honey tea.
…

 

153.
I handed him a napkin.
He called the waiter to pay the bill.
Me: “…”
Him: “…”

 

154.
A true pro! I lost!
I looked at the mountain of food in my bowl, managed a few trembling bites, then looked up at Gu Yiliang and admitted, pained: “… I can’t finish all this…”
Gu Yiliang burst out laughing and pushed my bowl aside: “Then why force yourself? Don’t overeat.”
What a thoughtful man.
I was just about to be moved by his kindness when he blinked and mimicked my awkward voice:
“Because if you overeat… it breaks my heart.”

 

155.
I’m leaving!

 

156.
I stood up and walked out of the restaurant without looking back, drifting through the street like a lost soul.
Gu Yiliang caught up with me, stifling a laugh, and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Are you mad? I was just joking."
I looked at him, pale-faced, and pushed his hand away.
"Watch your image."
Still amused, he put his hand back on my shoulder.
"Even if someone snaps a photo, it’s fine. Can’t we just have the company release a statement that Gu Yiliang and Wei Yanzi have become friends?"

 

157.
I mean, I just don’t get it.
The Niangzi fans had always instinctively put his name before mine—fine, they were just excitable young girls. But why was he, of all people, doing it too?
Was it just because his surname was Gu, one of the most common gong names in BL, that he thought he could do whatever he wanted?

 

158.
I protested, "It should be Wei-Gu, not Gu-Wei."
He looked at me, genuinely confused.
"There’s a difference?"
Me: "..."
Oh, great master, I may be straight too, but you are way too straight.

(NT: In BL fandoms, the first name usually denotes the "gong" (top/dominant) role.)

 

159.
To preserve a bit of dignity in this weird little matter, I started saying things like “Wei-Gu sounds better,” “it’s more pleasant to the ear, more memorable,” all while subtly trying to make it clear that my name should come first.
We kept joking around as we neared the main road. I was just about to brush his hand off again when he moved it away himself and pulled out his phone to check something.
I pouted inwardly.
Hmph. Look at this hypocritical model idol.

 

160.
Then this hypocritical model idol tucked his phone away, walked over to a dimly lit corner, and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
Me: ???

 

161.
I stared at Gu Yiliang, bent over to light a cigarette, and questioned if this world was even real.
Hello? Do you remember your "model idol" image?
Do you remember that I’m supposed to be your rival?
Do you remember that we’ve known each other for three years and only exchanged WeChat contacts yesterday?
Sure, no one said an idol couldn’t smoke, but...
He saw the strange look on my face and smiled. "Sorry. I just felt like having one."
I was speechless.
Not because he had the nerve to do this in front of me—but because, despite his skill at hiding emotions and that warm, genuine smile, I could feel his sadness.

 

162.
I said, "Aren’t you afraid I’ll pull out my phone, take a picture, and smear you with it using a fake account?"
Gu Yiliang burst out laughing and shrugged like he didn’t care.
I have to say, he looked ridiculously cool and rebellious with that cigarette in his mouth.
Maybe I was bewitched by the vibe, but for a moment, Gu-Wei didn’t sound so bad after all.

 

163.
He smoked silently, leaning forward, and I silently watched him.
The atmosphere wasn’t awkward, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth.
This was Gu Yiliang—he smiled so beautifully when he was happy. That smile was already enough to mess with people.
How could he allow himself to look sad and hurt me like that?
It was just too irresponsible toward my heart.
Acting on impulse, I lightly tapped the hand holding his pack of cigarettes. “What if… you taught me how to smoke?”

 

164.
Gu Yiliang looked surprised. "Why?"
Me: "...So you won’t have to worry about me taking photos to expose you. We’ll be in the same boat."
He stared at me for a long moment, then chuckled quietly and held out the cigarette he was smoking.

 

165.
Wait. He’s really straight, huh???
I’m seriously starting to question that.

 

166.
With a complicated expression, I took the cigarette, put it in my mouth, and tried to take a drag—
—only to nearly choke.

 

167.
As expected, Gu Yiliang took the cigarette back and patted me on the back while laughing. "Now you know what to learn and what not to learn, right?"
What a sadist! Eyes watering, I glared at him. "Don’t move—stay just like that. I’m taking out my phone to blackmail you!"
He laughed even harder, pulled out his own phone, opened the camera, pulled me close, stuck the cigarette back in his mouth, wrapped an arm around my neck, and took a burst of selfies.

 

168.
With the iPhone’s front camera.
Alright, I’m convinced—he really is straight.

 

169.
Confident in my looks and knowing his knack for picking flattering photos, I didn’t ask to see them.
But I did notice his phone’s wallpaper: a cat snoozing.
Its fur looked familiar—like the kitten he’d caught in that video posted by one of his industry friends.
I pointed to his phone. "Is that the kitten you caught in that video? It’s grown a lot."
He kept his arm around my neck and looked a little surprised.

 

170.
Crap!
How was I supposed to explain that I’d seen that old video—which only had a few hundred views—without following him or his industry friends?
He was definitely going to think I was some weirdo obsessed with his body and soul!

 

171.
I quickly put on my impassive idol face, panicking inside as I scrambled to come up with a believable explanation.
But he just rubbed his nose, looking a bit embarrassed, and said with a shy smile, "You saw it? So… during the shoot… you were paying a bit more attention?"

 

172.
?

 

173.
I was completely at a loss.

 

Translator : DarNan