Chapter 40: Coming Out
“What photo?”
When Shen Shuyi saw the message, he almost forgot what it was about.
Then, seeing how naturally Zhao Yuheng used the word photo, he suddenly remembered—oh right, he had promised Zhao Yuheng not long ago that he would show him some childhood pictures.
…Could he take that back now?
It wasn’t that Shen Shuyi didn’t have many childhood photos—on the contrary, he had too many.
Not just photos, but videos, photo albums, DVDs—even a professional team that had filmed a documentary chronicling his entire growth up until he turned eighteen.
Those massive records of his life were stored in a museum that Old Master Shen had specially built for him.
Yes—a museum themed around Shen Shuyi’s growth journey.
You heard that right. Somewhere in the world, there actually existed a museum dedicated solely to him.
It was located on a small private artificial island in the South of France, one that the Shen family occasionally visited for vacations.
Aside from what was kept there, copies of everything else were stored in the basement of the Shen family’s ancestral mansion in Hong Kong. Sometimes, when Shen Lu was under pressure, he would spend a couple of hours in the underground screening room—watching the silly, adorable moments from his younger brother’s childhood.
Shen Shuyi never understood what was so entertaining about that.
He had snuck in to watch twice himself—and both times ended in such embarrassment he wanted to sink into the floor.
Letting someone else see those childhood photos?
For Shen Shuyi, that was basically like opening the most private, forbidden corner of his life.
It required courage.
Because—let’s be honest—he had been ridiculously stupid as a kid.
Showing someone those photos? That was pure humiliation!
He tried to play dead and ignore the message.
Then Zhao Yuheng texted again:
[Don’t pretend to be asleep.]
[If I don’t get them in ten seconds, I’ll video call you.]
Shen Shuyi: …
[10]
[9]
Damn! He was actually counting down in WeChat?!
[3]
[2]
?? Where the hell were 8, 7, 6, 5, 4?!
Who counts like this?!
[Sent them yet?] Zhao Yuheng asked coolly.
[Sent.] Shen Shuyi typed, giving in. [How young do you want? I have ultrasound scans, do those count?]
[?]
[Shen Shuyi, a man should keep his word.]
[Zzzzz.]
Maybe even he thought the “pretend to sleep” trick was overused, so he added another line:
[I’m a cat. Cats don’t need to keep promises.]
Zhao Yuheng chuckled at that childish reply.
He wouldn’t force it. But the thought of that guy Yan Chi having seen what twelve- or thirteen-year-old Shen Shuyi looked like—it annoyed him in a way he couldn’t explain. It was like a thorn in his chest, something small but deeply irritating.
After playing dead for a while and getting no reply, Shen Shuyi started to feel uneasy.
No way… was he actually mad?
As a veteran drama king, he knew exactly how far to go—cute “acting” was charming, but overdoing it just made you a childish idiot.
He knew people tolerated his behavior because he was cute and he knew how to use that charm well.
So after a few seconds of hesitation, he decided to just ask directly if Zhao Yuheng was upset. If he was, he’d send the photos later—after all, he didn’t have them on hand right now.
Before he could send the message, Zhao Yuheng replied: [No photo of twelve-year-old Shen Shuyi?]
Shen Shuyi nodded instinctively—then realized Zhao Yuheng couldn’t see that.
Ugh, stupid.
[I’ll have to look when I get home. Don’t have it now.]
[How about twenty-two-year-old Shen Shuyi?]
He froze.
Twenty-two? That was now.
[…Yeah.]
[Send a few. Baby.]
Shen Shuyi: “…”
Their chat had been totally normal up until that last word.
Add “baby” and suddenly the whole thing sounded wrong—way too suggestive.
His heart heated up. He rubbed his face until the warmth evened out, then lifted his phone and—stupidly—started taking selfies.
Halfway through, he froze.
…Crap.
Why was he taking new selfies?!
Didn’t he already have hundreds of perfect, filtered ones in his album?!
He almost punched the air out of embarrassment, quickly shut off the camera, opened his gallery, and sent a few that looked decent.
After sending, he finally remembered to ask:
[Why do you suddenly want my photo?]
Then he refreshed the chat—only to see that Zhao Yuheng’s WeChat profile picture had already changed to his selfie.
—
“Brother Zhao, did you change your WeChat avatar?”
In the Translation Department, Zhou Ran turned around from his desk to ask suddenly.
For a few seconds, nobody reacted.
Then others checked and realized—yes, Zhao Yuheng really had changed his profile picture.
“Oh wow, good catch, Zhou Yuheng! We didn’t even notice!” someone said.
Zhao Yuheng didn’t deny it—he was careful, yes, but lately, Zhou Ran’s attention toward him had become… uncomfortable.
Outside of work, they’d never even had a casual chat.
Zhou Ran’s attentiveness wasn’t spent on actual work but on memorizing which brand of cigarette each manager smoked, which kind of liquor each executive liked.
Every time he came back from a business trip, the bosses’ desks mysteriously gained new, expensive gifts.
Ambition itself wasn’t bad—but Zhou Ran’s ambition wasn’t for the job. He was climbing the ladder the wrong way.
Zhao Yuheng didn’t like him, but since it didn’t affect him personally, he ignored it.
They’d joined the company the same year, often compared secretly by others.
But Zhao Yuheng had no interest in office politics. Recently, he was preparing to resign—he had a “princess” to take care of at home and plans to start a business with a friend.
He hadn’t told anyone yet.
Zhou Ran smiled. “I just noticed it when I was sending you a file.”
Zhao Yuheng raised an eyebrow. “A file? I don’t recall any joint project between us this week.”
Zhou Ran’s smile froze—but he quickly recovered. “Oh, must be an old one! My memory, haha…”
Zhao Yuheng didn’t smile back. He just looked at him—calmly, coolly—and that look alone made Zhou Ran’s spine prickle, like being stared down by a predator.
Then, thankfully, an older coworker, Old Gao, broke the tension with a laugh. “Hey, Zhao Yuheng, that new profile picture looks great! Nice taste. Which actor is that?”
“Not an actor.”
“Oh, really? Yeah, I thought I’d seen most celebs before. My daughter’s a huge fan of pop idols—none of them look as good as your new profile pic!”
Zhou Ran quickly added, “Yeah, stars look perfect only online. Most influencers just Photoshop. In person, they’re totally different.”
Zhao Yuheng said evenly, “He’s my boyfriend.”
The office went dead silent.
Old Gao gawked. “Wait—Zhao Yuheng, you’re… gay?”
Zhao Yuheng frowned.
He wanted to say no—but then again, he had just said “boyfriend.”
Technically, Shen Shuyi wasn’t his boyfriend.
He didn’t even know why those words came out—like he’d been possessed or something.
Maybe it was just… if someone like Shen Shuyi were your boyfriend, how could you not want to tell the world?
Even if their relationship was still only a possibility, it felt right to claim it early.
That explained why he’d changed his profile photo.
Yesterday it was Yan Chi; tomorrow it could be Zhang Chi or Li Chi—someone new trying to get close.
If he didn’t put his name on Shen Shuyi now, someone else might.
And if that happened… he’d lose it.
So yes—he “came out” in the office, entirely unplanned, entirely irrational.
After a moment of awkward silence, Lao Gao laughed again, saving the mood. “Come on, why so shocked? It’s just being gay, no big deal! Same-sex marriage has been legal for nearly ten years!”
Everyone relaxed.
“Yeah, I’ve got a few gay friends—most are married now. It’s no different from straight couples!”
“I even envy them! No kids to worry about—just two cats and a cozy life.”
“And your boyfriend’s gorgeous, Zhao Yuheng! You two look like celebrities together!”
Only Zhou Ran muttered softly, half in shock, half sounding relieved: “So Zhao’s… gay.”
Old Gao suddenly turned to him. “By the way, Zhou Ran, your girlfriend’s quite pretty too, right?”
Zhou Ran smiled awkwardly. “She’s okay. Nothing like Zhao’s guy.”
He blushed slightly. “But she treats me well. That’s enough.”
Old Gao laughed and changed the topic. “Oh right, this Saturday’s our team-building day—mandatory for everyone, no excuses!”
—
“Xiao Liu, report your coordinates immediately. Over.”
7 a.m., Shuiwan One Villa, third floor.
Shen Shuyi crouched by a window, peering through a small telescope at the front gate.
Through the walkie-talkie came Xiao Liu’s reply:
“Young Master, I read you! Coordinates—North Latitude 22.4, East Longitude 114.5, over!”
“…Huh? Where is that?”
“Uh—at the first flowerbed on the left outside the gate, sir. I secretly drove the car there.”
“Ohhh.” Shen Shuyi nodded seriously. “Good job. Rendezvous in five minutes!”
Then, suspiciously: “You weren’t spotted by Uncle Lin, right?”
“Negative, sir. Over!”
Satisfied, Shen Shuyi put down the radio, threw on his coat, and tiptoed downstairs.
Just as he reached the living room and was about to touch the doorknob—
“Sir,” came Uncle Lin’s resigned voice behind him, “you haven’t forgotten tonight’s Shen family gathering, have you?”
He froze.
“You’ve already skipped three times,” Uncle Lin continued. “You can’t miss another.”
“But I have something really important today.”
“You said that the last three times.”
“…The third time, you even used ‘third time’s the charm’ as your excuse.”
Shen Shuyi: T_T
He turned. “But I really do this time! I’ve already bought tickets to Baotai Temple—if I don’t go, Buddha won’t forgive me!”
Uncle Lin: “If you don’t attend the family dinner, your brother won’t forgive you either.”
“That’s fine,” Shen Shuyi said earnestly. “I’ll ask Buddha to explain it to him in a dream tonight.”
Uncle Lin sighed. He could never win against this young master. “I heard Baotai Temple is famous for granting love wishes. You’re not going there to—”
“No!” Shen Shuyi interrupted. “I’m praying for my career.”
Because if the Buddha told him he was destined to marry Zhao Yuheng, his brother might finally unfreeze his credit card.
And if that happened—he’d instantly return to his beloved life of luxury.
Tell him that’s not a career!
Uncle Lin: “???”
“I’ll be back before six!” Shen Shuyi called, sprinting off before Uncle Lin could tattletale to his brother.
By the time Uncle Lin realized it, the boy was long gone.
For the first time, he felt like a father whose grown child was leaving the nest.
—
When Shen Shuyi arrived at Baotai Temple, it was 8 a.m.
The temple—famous for granting the most effective wishes in Hong Kong—was already full of people.
The Shen family regularly funded its restoration; businesspeople were superstitious about feng shui, especially ones as rich as the Shens.
Technically, he could’ve had VIP treatment—because Buddha saves the rich first.
But Shen Shuyi wanted to show sincerity, so he decided to climb the mountain like everyone else.
Before going up, he sent Zhao Yuheng a photo.
The timestamp read 8:00.
[You’re up early,] Zhao Yuheng messaged, surprised.
Usually, by the time Zhao Yuheng finished his morning run, Shen Shuyi was just waking up—around ten or eleven.
[The early bird gets the worm ?]
[Didn’t you say the early worm gets eaten by the bird?]
[Don’t make me swear in a sacred place ?]
Zhao Yuheng sent a voice message: “Why are you at a temple?”
[Oh… praying for career success.]
(He couldn’t exactly say he was praying for love.)
Zhao Yuheng chuckled. “If it’s career you want, shouldn’t you pray to your brother instead?”
[…]
If that worked, would he still be suffering through a 9-to-6 job?!
[Not talking anymore, I’m climbing.]
He sent another picture—the misty, stone-paved stairway stretching into the clouds.
“Wear more layers,” Zhao Yuheng reminded.
[Got it, Daddy ^ ^]
[……]
[Don’t call me that.]
He stared at the message for a while. It was meant to tease, but somehow… it felt oddly thrilling.
[How many layers? Send a photo.]
[……]
What are you, my father?!
Even his real brother didn’t nag like this.
Five seconds later—
[photo.jpg]
Zhao Yuheng opened it. Shen Shuyi was dressed neatly, simply, sweetly. No flamboyance today.
[You’re really climbing all the way?]
[Of course! Buddha values sincerity! Don’t underestimate my resolve!]
Zhao Yuheng smiled. Lazy cat, climbing mountains—who’d have thought.
Ten minutes later, he asked: “How far now?”
Shen Shuyi sent a photo of… the cable car.
[I climbed onto the cable car.]
“Didn’t you say don’t underestimate your resolve?”
[My resolve took a little walk ?]
Zhao Yuheng laughed and saved the cat sticker.
[Where are you exactly? Send the location. I’ll come.]
Shen Shuyi hesitated—remembering how Zhao Yuheng had been working till 3 a.m. all week. His conscience pricked.
[No need. You should rest today.]
After a pause, Zhao Yuheng texted back:
[Baby, are you… worried about me?]
Shen Shuyi’s cheeks flushed. Since Zhao Yuheng started using “baby,” he’d gotten shameless.
He fanned his face.
[Yes, touched by divine compassion, I’m giving you a chance to sleep in ^ ^]
Right after sending that, it was his turn to draw a fortune stick.
The monk guided him to kneel. Around him were couples—only he was alone.
Whatever. Didn’t matter.
“Please,” said the monk, handing him the bamboo tube.
Shen Shuyi took a deep breath and began to shake it.
Buddha, please tell me—if I marry Zhao Yuheng, will it be good or bad? Will I be happy?
A crisp clack! echoed as one stick fell.
He bent to pick it up.
…Bad omen. Extremely bad.
A few seconds later, Zhao Yuheng’s phone buzzed with a message:
[Jerk. Do you even like me at all?]
