731.

What a CP God. Ah, I wasn’t going to graduate, I’d never amount to anything.
Listening to the same song, thinking of each other, and choosing the same way to express it—what kind of fate was that? A bond tied by a red string, even if separated by thousands of miles?
Whether it was the sugar level or the tacit understanding, it had gone far beyond anything I had imagined. I was starting to suspect that Gu Yiliang really was the true CP God.

 

732.
Fans were laughing in the comments, haters were flailing, and the fanclub members were bustling around like aunties organizing fundraising.
One single Weibo post had accomplished in one shot what other CPs couldn’t achieve in fifteen days. It was impressive.
I quietly closed my phone, watching as the car pulled into a reserved spot.
Gu Yiliang handed me the car keys and sent me a QR code for the tickets:
“There are a lot of people coming to see movies at this time, so I’ll go in first and wait for you inside.”
As a public figure in a public place, it was indeed a bit awkward. But I had no intention of walking in hand-in-hand and sticking together in the lobby either. I nodded, watched him get out of the car, and take the elevator that led directly up to the cinema.

 

733.
Ah, though the truth was the truth, I really didn’t like watching his back as he walked away.
Even if you don’t want to, and you know the circumstances don’t allow it, you still can’t help feeling a little sad and regretful.
Especially when I saw couples walking past hand in hand without a care, I couldn’t stop a twinge of frustration.
Two grown men didn’t need to be stuck together all the time. I wasn’t against holding hands, but… at least we could’ve walked side by side without being disturbed, right?
I pouted and sighed inwardly.
Well, whatever. I didn’t really mind, but if it ended up harming Gu Yiliang’s brilliant career, then the guilt would crush me.

 

734.
I wasn’t the type to mope about such things; standing in front of the ticket machine, I comforted myself with the thought that being discreet sometimes had its perks.
Everyone thought we were just “pretending” and selling a fake image, but in reality, “pretending” had become our cover—our excuse to sneak in affection, like playing roles on a public stage.
Those who thought it was fake didn’t even realize it was real—but real, sweetened with sugar.
Ah, everyone else was blind to our truth, while we alone were awake. In public, we were brothers, but in private, we could play another game.
I consoled myself like this, all while thinking about watching a movie with him. I rubbed my hands together happily and walked toward the theatre with a smile.

 

735.
I thought Gu Yiliang would already be in his seat, but the moment I stepped into the theatre, he grabbed me.
The lights were dim, commercials playing before the feature. Gu Yiliang took my hand and led me to our seats.
I was rubbing my hands in my mind, excited, and asked him softly: “Why didn’t you sit down and wait?”
He answered: “Because I can’t hold your hand outside.”
I smiled, a little embarrassed: “How did you recognize me in the dark?”
He replied: “Before you came in, I’d already mistaken four or five people for you, so I was paying close attention.”
Me: “…”
Me: “Your persistence is truly admirable.”
He chuckled: “You flatter me.”
I laughed too: “Not at all.”

 

736.
The fire in my heart was about to burn out, leaving only a thin wisp of smoke. I sat beside him in silence, and the movie began.
As the screen lit up, I realized it was a film he starred in.
He appeared on screen in a sharp military uniform, flashing a shy smile at the camera.
Wait—what was this? A cinematic feast in 3D?!
The production value was insanely high!
I sat there dumbfounded, overwhelmed by the sheer aesthetic impact pouring out from the screen.

 

737.
Not long after, the heroine appeared. Gu Yiliang turned slightly toward me, and I answered with an indifferent smile.
Hah, it was just a movie, why would I be bothered?—
But actually, yeah, a little.
The armrest between our seats was adjustable. Keeping my eyes on the screen, I silently raised it and shifted a little closer to him.
He looked at me with a faint smile, mirroring the action of his character on screen. As his character took the heroine’s hand, he lifted mine for a kiss, brushing his lips gently over my fingers.

 

738.
Hah, this was fun!
I watched as the heroine whispered into the soldier’s ear, then mimicked her, leaning in to breathe softly into Gu Yiliang’s ear.
He swatted lightly at my hand.
Grinning in secret, I followed the heroine again—my fingers brushed against his ear, then slid down the side of his neck in a teasing gesture.
His character on screen wrapped an arm around the heroine’s neck, and in real life, he gripped my hand firmly, shooting me an accusatory glance.
I quickly reined myself in, but the game was too entertaining.
“Eh…” Gu Yiliang said softly, holding my hand—a subtle warning.
I smiled smugly, because I knew he couldn’t resist anymore.
I smirked and said: “Flustered, aren’t you? Can’t handle it? Exhausting, isn’t it?”
Now it’s your turn to do what you want. This is your fault—for dazzling me on the way here and shaking me with your voice.

 

739.
Then I looked at the screen, where the officer in the movie suddenly seemed to release a powerful aura, grabbing the heroine tightly—before the scene changed.
A very bad premonition washed over me.
Gu Yiliang leaned close to my ear and whispered: “This part wasn’t filmed, but I know the plot…”
His eyes locked on the screen as he slid an arm around my waist, tugging me closer. He lifted the hem of my jacket, fingers brushing down my spine before resting lightly on my side, caressing my hip, and then slowly trailing downward—while turning his head to gently bite my ear with a low chuckle.
Please have mercy! Please have mercy!
This was unbearable! He really was a demon!

 

740.
I firmly grabbed his hand and put it back in place. I also pulled the seat’s armrest down, sat up straight, and stared at the screen.
He burst out laughing and murmured: “Can’t take it anymore, huh?”
I answered seriously, but in a low voice: “No, it’s just… the plot is really good, I can’t miss it.”
He raised his brows and whispered: “Then why are your hands stuffed in your pocket?”
Me: “… To hold back a tiger that’s about to break out of its cage.”
Him: “Oh, so you can’t hold it back anymore.”
Me: “Yes, yes, I can’t. So—why don’t you let me attack instead?”
Him: “Attack? What do you mean by attack?”
Me: “…”

 

741.
Opportunities are fleeting!
I tried to guide him: “The attacker is me, I’m the one on offense.”
He looked at me blankly, thought for a moment, and then, at my ear, spoke in a soft, slightly put-on voice: “…Hubby?”
I melted on the spot.
The tiger was about to burst out of the cage.
I looked at him with a pitiful, pleading expression, and he gently hooked my finger, lowering that magnetic voice of his: “Just one word and you’re already undone.”

 

742.
I couldn’t believe my ears.

 

743.
His deep, electric voice almost blew me apart, so I grabbed a handful of popcorn from the armrest and shoved it into his mouth to shut him up.
He laughed silently, then patted my thigh: “Alright, watch the movie properly.”
I glared at him fiercely before forcing myself to look back at the giant screen.

 

744.
My eyes were glued to Gu Yiliang on the screen—every smile, every expression capable of enchanting anyone—while I kept fearing he’d start something again beside me. So I hurriedly kept feeding him popcorn to keep him occupied.
He quieted down, but my fingers brushed his lips every now and then, and he responded by gently pressing the back of my hand with his finger.
I had to admit, the feeling was pleasant, sweet, and fun. I found a strange joy in this—feeding Gu Yiliang one bite at a time, my heart blooming with a thousand flowers, my hands tightening, our fingers intertwining, stroking lightly.
It was secret, ambiguous, and in that total darkness, the thrill was electrifying. There was even a strange satisfaction in taming Gu Yiliang.
Taming… Wasn’t that way too sensual?!
Blushing, I plotted inside my head, no, schemed a grand—well, practically pornographic—plan. And as I fed him, my fingers tightened, sliding slowly against his hand, softer, slower.

 

745.
Suddenly, Gu Yiliang turned his head, looked at me, and asked in confusion: “Did you buy popcorn?”
The hand holding the popcorn froze mid air.

 

746.
The guy sitting next to me: “Hey kid, look, I’ve still got a cold soda. Want me to give it to you?”
Me: “…”

 

747.
A heavy silence. A deathly silence. The air thick with embarrassment.
A gunshot came out in the movie.
I stared at the screen in despair, wishing that the soldier Gu Yiliang just shot was me instead.
I was so mortified I thought my teeth would shatter. I apologized a thousand times, promised to compensate him financially, doing everything I could to calm down the guy next to me. Finally, when he waved me off, I managed to sit back.
There was still time! Most of the movie remained—I could still salvage the atmosphere, I had a plan…

 

748.
That brother turned to me again, tilted his head and said: “Hey, you kinda look like that guy, you know, the one in the watch commercials—Wei Yan…”
He tilted his head further, glanced at Gu Yiliang sitting beside me, and then his expression froze. Slowly, he turned his eyes back to the screen: “…Ah.”
I dropped my plan on the spot, grabbed Gu Yiliang’s hand, and bolted.

 

749.
Gu Yiliang got into the driver’s seat and patted my head gently to calm me down.
I curled up in the passenger seat, nervously scanning the few pedestrians outside.
He stifled a laugh and coughed before saying: “It’s fine, it’s fine.”
I held out my trembling hand—still clutching some popcorn—toward him: “…Take it. I don’t want this hand anymore.”
He caught my hand, nibbled lightly on my finger, then smiled: “Don’t worry, we still have half the day left. Where do you want to go now?”
I let out a long, defeated sigh: “Go where? There’s nothing we can do… I’ll just go back to the studio. Before we left, I saw that guy was already starting to tweet. The paparazzi will probably only need a few seconds to track us down.”
He fell silent for a moment, then started the car and drove out of the parking lot.

 

750.
The car drove smoothly, but my mood was a whirlwind. I immediately contacted Man Jie to be ready for PR damage control.
Gu Yiliang turned the steering wheel, looking thoughtful, then suddenly leaned toward me and asked softly: “Did you… get any revelations from what just happened back there?”
I stared at him, stunned. Was he really reflecting on that right now?
I was still licking my wounds, and here he was sprinkling salt on them.
Fine, my bad. I replied solemnly: “Yes—when you go to the movies, you must always have popcorn on hand.”
Him: “…”
He paused, then said: “I meant… if you’d like, we could look for a movie to watch at home… you know…”
Him again: “You just killed the mood.”
Me: “???”
I couldn’t believe it. I was in the middle of fixing this guy’s Weibo situation, and here he was switching the subject completely, off on some monologue!
So I said: “Fine, we’ll watch when I get back.”
We’d watch hundreds, a full-on movie marathon—until the end credits rolled—and no one would be able to leave!

 

751.
Man Jie’s message arrived quickly: the guy’s Weibo hadn’t said anything about us, nothing compromising, he hadn’t even mentioned our names.
I let out a sigh of relief and opened the screenshot she sent me.

@ApplaudissementsPourLaSociété:
“The Year of the Dog is gonna be amazing—I ran into celebrities at the movies! When fate knocks, it’s you! Friendship and loyalty are worth a thousand gold pieces! This little bro takes the chance to wish you all a belated Happy New Year: may the Year of the Dog bring you luck and prosperity, and may every meal be a feast!”
Image:anemptybucketofpopcorn.Image: an empty bucket of popcorn.Image:anemptybucketofpopcorn.

Me: …

 

752.
I couldn’t help but applaud loudly—if not for the seatbelt and the car’s low ceiling, I would’ve stood up to clap.
Gu Yiliang glanced at me, a little puzzled: “What is it, problem solved?”
Me: “That big brother didn’t expose us.”
Him: “No need to get so excited about it.”
Me: “But his post was such high-level stuff—I couldn’t help it!”

 

Translator : DarNan