90.
Although there was a small gap between Gu Yiliang and me, the number of fans who had shown up for each of us was about the same.
As soon as both sides saw the other holding support merchandise, they instinctively distanced themselves, splitting into two neat groups on either side of the small path, all staring fixedly toward the exit.
Everyone respected their own side’s boundaries. Even when glances met, there wasn’t any of the tension you’d see online.
People from both camps were armed with cameras and equipment, snapping pictures—after all, fans follow their idols and every group tries their best to present a polished image, aiming to outshine the other in style.
It was a war without gunpowder.

 

91.
Eventually, Gu Yiliang and I arrived, chatting and laughing.

 

92.
The scene grew slightly awkward.

 

93.
“We’ve only got thirty minutes—can you call me when time’s up?” I asked.
Gu Yiliang nodded. “Sure. Give me some of your snacks, I didn’t bring any.”
Was it really okay to act so indifferent in front of our fans?
Right there in full view, I split my snacks with him.

 

94.
I greeted the Meiyan fans around me (NT: “美言” — Měi Yán, lit. “beautiful words,” name of Wei Yanzi’s fan club) and handed all the snacks I was carrying to a senior fan I knew well.
“I don’t think this will be enough for everyone—can you share them around on your way back?”
“Yes, yes!” the girl replied confidently, placing the snacks into a bag before handing me two large tote bags.
“The food and drinks we prepared for the crew have already been given to the staff. The green bag has fresh fruit and desserts—eat those quickly before they go bad. The blue one’s a mix: gifts, letters, have a look later.”
I smiled—it felt a bit like coming home from school and being greeted by my mom, only missing her telling me to get along with others and not get bullied.
“…You should get along with the staff,” she added, sneaking a glance at Gu Yiliang. Then, in a nervous whisper, “Did the other group give you a hard time?”

Me: “…”

 

95.
Me: “Gu Yiliang!”
He turned toward me, a little puzzled.
Me: “Smile!”
He smiled—genuinely, warmly, with that signature charm.

 

96.
I turned back to the senior fan and the other shocked fans and smiled. “See? Everything’s fine.”
But they were still frozen in disbelief, so I pulled out my phone and opened Alipay. “How much did you all spend this time?”
They snapped out of it and rushed over to stop me. “This time it was all Meiyan fans who’ve started working—students didn’t contribute.”
Alright then. I rolled up my sleeves. “There must be a ton of autographs to sign, huh? Come on, come on, we’ve only got thirty minutes.”
And just like that, as if by magic, they pulled out banners, fans, posters…
I let my hands do the work, signing while chatting with them.

 

97.
Suddenly, the senior fan gently tugged on my arm, wearing a mix of confusion and mischief on her face, signalling for me to lean in.
I looked at her, puzzled, and bent down to hear her whisper: “…Niangzi?”

 

98.
I didn’t expect you, the guy with thick eyebrows and big eyes, to betray the revolution!
(NT: A humorous metaphor—basically saying someone acted totally unexpectedly or “sold out.”)

 

99.
The current climate wasn’t exactly healthy—shipping fictional couples and having the actual people involved acknowledge it in public were two very different things.
If this backfired, it could destroy Gu Yiliang’s career.
I was completely lost, confused—I placed three fingers over my lips and mumbled, “A ha?”
Her: “…”

 

100.
Thank you, Phoenix Legend (NT: a hugely popular Chinese music duo known for their upbeat songs). Thank you, Lover Temptation! I managed to dodge the situation and finally catch my breath.
(NT: “—Niangzi! —A ha!” are lyrics from the song Lover Temptation by Phoenix Legend. So, the main character uses the song as a way to pretend they don’t recognize the ship “Niangzi.”)

Just as I was writing “For…”, Gu Yiliang called out, “Can you come here for a second?”
I glanced around at the fans near me—they were all giving me meaningful looks and gesturing insistently for me to go over, as if they were going to physically push me.
It was like being sold off by my own mother.

I handed back the pen and the autograph sheet, and ran over to him. “What’s up?”
Gu Yiliang smiled. “They want a photo of the two of us.”

101.
He casually placed his hand around my neck, and instinctively, I wrapped my arm around his waist.
We both smiled for the photo.
It was actually our first photo together—three years after we had first met.

An underground fan photographer was capturing everything, and I had planned to pull away immediately after the shot. But the camera flash kept going off, the shutter clicking non-stop, and I missed my window to move.

He looked at me with a gentle, slightly apologetic gaze, and I looked back into those deep black eyes of his, smiling faintly, unbothered.

 

102.
In the instant our eyes met, a part of my fan soul floated out of my body and observed the whole scene from the outside—knowing full well that once this photo hit the internet, the Niangzi ship forum was going to erupt.

 

103.
Then Gu Yiliang walked over to the senior fan who had been taking the pictures, and I saw him personally pick out two photos to send him.

 

104.
The two photos :
The first showed us smiling at the camera—my eyes crinkled with my grin, and his lips curved into a soft smile.
The second showed us gazing into each other’s eyes, as if a thousand unspoken words were exchanged in that single look.

I was dressed in slate blue, and he was wearing brick red.
Just as I’d said the night before—we matched perfectly.

 

105.
At that moment, I knew for certain: Gu Yiliang was going to post those two photos.

 

106.
And it was also in that very moment that I realized, with absolute clarity: Gu Yiliang was the true Rio Niangzi master.

 

Translator : DarNan