Chapter 12
On one side, CP fans were celebrating like it was New Year. On the other, the solo fans from both sides were locked in a fight to the death.
Seeing that cohabitation was a lost cause and their brothers couldn’t be saved, the solo fans argued their way into calculating finances—whose brother earned more, whose brother was living off the other, whose brother had more household status… deciding a winner, after which fans would call the other side “sis.”
CP fans: Alright, alright, it’s got that pre-marriage in-law tug-of-war over dowries and bride prices vibe now.
Pulling up a chair and moving into the internet today.
Lu Xiao’s fans listed all the films and TV dramas he’d done, rumored fees, investments, and summed up his net worth.
“My brother’s acting fees are way higher than Meng Xueyuan’s. His acting leaves your Meng Xueyuan’s fancy cold-face acting a hundred streets behind. Hollywood invitations nonstop—international superstar. Meng Xueyuan gets roles thanks to my brother’s connections. He’s riddled with scandals and still needs my brother to clean up after him. From now on, Snowflakes, when you see us, please respectfully call us ‘sis.’”
Snowflakes pulled out Meng Xueyuan’s god-tier endorsements, shining from his fingernails to the tips of his hair.
“Do you know how much he made in endorsement fees just this year? Lu Xiao refuses endorsements to force some high-end image—I’m thinking, do you guys even have anywhere to spend money? There’s no such thing as peaceful years; it’s just our Snowflakes bearing everything—pushing sales, doing data. We spend money on our brother; you don’t. For the couple’s shared property, I’m in, you’re not. Half of the money Lu Xiao spends is contributed by Snowflakes. Strictly speaking, Lu Xiao’s fans are living off Snowflakes. My god—living off others and still wearing a sour face.”
Snowflakes ran to comment under Meng Xueyuan’s Weibo: Remember to sign a prenup—endorsement money can’t be spent on Lu Xiao.
With airtight logic, Lu Xiao’s fans, in a rage, rushed to comment under Lu Xiao’s Weibo: Bro, please take some endorsements—we beg you. Don’t spend his money.
CP fans: Alright, alright, we’re just shipping cohabitation, while you solo fans are hashing out the economics of joint marital property. Dreams and reality have merged!
After enjoying the spectacle, CP fans remembered advice from big names in the fandom: unite all forces that can be united. So they stepped in to mediate—
@LuXiaoFans: Don’t panic, your brother has endorsements.
@Snowflakes: Don’t be mad—why doesn’t Lu Xiao have endorsements? Because he only endorses your brother.
“You two make up—I’ll chip in two hundred.”
Passersby: First time seeing fans from both sides fight like this—kind of want to @ the tax bureau to check what’s real.
In the end, the one who came out was @TaxBureau.
[Verified. All taxes paid.]
The skinny cameraman followed the entire argument and couldn’t help but size up the two heavenly superstars.
Which of these two actually had the higher net worth?
Impossible to tell—absolutely impossible to tell—after all, they’d both eaten leafy greens, eggplant, and millet porridge for breakfast, and even got upset over two eggs.
On the plane.
Meng Xueyuan wore an eye mask and rested with his eyes closed. Bees could fly; humans couldn’t—but he enjoyed the process of flying, especially the moment when the nose of the plane lifted and everyone else felt uncomfortable. Meng Xueyuan imagined himself soaring through a fragrant, lush sea of giant peonies, and gradually drifted into sleep.
The plane switched to a coach bus. After another three hours on the bus, they finally arrived at their destination—a small village deep in the mountains. The last trace of daylight at the horizon slipped beneath the skyline.
Though it was a mountain village, new rural development over the years had been quite effective. Most houses were small villas; every household had flush toilets. There was a road in front and green mountains behind. The village was usually quiet, with mostly elderly residents. The director stood waiting for them on the grain-drying ground.
There were five guest pairs in total.
Thirty-five-year-old film queen Jiang Weina and forty-one-year-old director Wang Dalin.
Fifty-year-old tycoon Xie Jingfeng and his wife Yao Quan.
The blockbuster star Liu Qingqing, who married into a wealthy family and retired from showbiz after her meteoric rise, and her husband Sun Zhi.
And the 24-year-old e-sports world champion duo, Li Fei and Ouyang Lai—also a same-sex couple.
Meng Xueyuan and Lu Xiao were the youngest pair, both only twenty-three.
Meng Xueyuan noticed that the couples on this season had very strong professional correlations within each pair.
Li Fei’s team’s van ran into a bit of trouble and arrived the latest. The four pairs of guests were already standing in the center of the square. Meng Xueyuan and Lu Xiao were on the far left. When the newcomers arrived, everyone shifted outward to leave some space in the middle.
But Li Fei and Ouyang Lai walked straight over to Meng Xueyuan’s side, instantly shifting the focus of the entire scene onto him.
With four young, good-looking men standing together, whatever else one might say, it was indeed easy on the eyes.
E-sports had been incorporated into official sporting events; teams competed to bring honor to the country. Li Fei and Ouyang Lai had won the world championship, and being able to invite them showed the program team’s clout. This was exactly when their fans were most fired up—and e-sports fans were not to be trifled with.
Meng Xueyuan had plenty of “rivals” in the entertainment industry already. A sensible main party shouldn’t create more enemies for their fans.
He smiled and waved, then stepped a couple of paces outward, letting them take the inner positions.
Lu Xiao naturally followed whatever his wife did. Standing on the outermost side, he lowered his voice and said to Meng Xueyuan, “Yao Quan once publicly expressed her disgust toward same-sex marriage on TV.”
So it was normal that the champion pair didn’t want to stand next to Yao Quan and her husband in the middle. Gamers—who didn’t have a bad temper?
The conflict was palpable; the production team’s scheming abacus beads were practically flying into everyone’s faces.
This was also a reminder. Lu Xiao was worried Meng Xueyuan might be too respectful toward seniors and end up at a disadvantage on the show.
Meng Xueyuan nodded. A little ashamed—he hadn’t done as much homework as Lu Xiao.
Maybe it was also because Lu Xiao was around; even a diligent queen bee would slack off sometimes.
The director couldn’t be too obvious about flattering the wealthy-family pair, for fear of being called a bootlicker. Literature and sports were intertwined, and with the champion pair there was no such concern. He proudly introduced their achievements in detail, giving them ample respect.
Clapping along, Meng Xueyuan thought: Lu Xiao is also an F1 world champion—just that none of you know it.
How did he know? He seemed to have glimpsed an old photo by Lu Xiao’s bedside by accident. Lu Xiao had competed overseas under the name “Alen,” without showing his face. If he hadn’t seen that photo, made a bold association, and then carefully asked, he’d never have guessed it in eight lifetimes.
Director: “Everyone’s had a hard trip. Get some rest early tonight. Tomorrow at noon there’s a local wedding banquet—”
Meng Xueyuan blinked. As expected of a couples variety show—everything revolved around marriage.
Director: “Because the village has many left-behind elderly and children and lacks kitchen help, everyone will go lend a hand tomorrow.”
“We’re not just going to eat?” a guest complained. “After washing vegetables, can we still sit at the table?”
Director: “Yes. Next, we’ll draw lots for tonight’s accommodations. Conditions vary—good or bad—it’s all about luck.”
Lu Xiao: “You go draw.”
Meng Xueyuan stepped forward, took a card from the director, and opened it. Room No. 1.
The director smiled broadly. “For every house, the program team has prepared one—one—newlywed room for you, exclusively sponsored by Dreamweave Home Textiles!”
One. Room.
Meng Xueyuan froze, clutching the card. Everyone else were real, bona fide married couples. He and Lu Xiao weren’t!
Sleeping together like this would spell trouble!
This variety show was even more straightforward than a movie kiss scene.
Film queen Jiang Weina raised an eyebrow and teased, “So which one of you is sleeping on the floor tonight?”
Meng Xueyuan and Lu Xiao spoke in unison: “Me.”
Jiang Weina gave them a speechless look. “Spring floors are damp. Listen to your sister—sleep in the same bed.”
Wang Dalin came over cheerfully. “Come on, Nana, we’re Room No. 5.”
Jiang Weina reminded them, “You must sleep in the same bed. The floor easily gives you rheumatism.”
Meng Xueyuan didn’t dare look at Lu Xiao, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.
Lu Xiao said, “Let’s go, we should head back too.”
“Mm.” Meng Xueyuan was unusually taciturn, afraid that if he opened his mouth, he’d mess everything up.
Seeing his wife’s cool, aloof expression, Lu Xiao, for the same reason, didn’t dare strike up a conversation either.
At that moment, Yao Quan and Xie Jingfeng finished drawing lots and walked past them, sneering, “Director, you should really add an extra room for this trainee couple. Two men hugging each other to sleep—what kind of look is that? It’d be terrible if it aired.”
Lu Xiao thought it bad luck and replied coldly, “Give it to you. I’ve heard fifty is the peak age for sleeping in separate beds.”
Xie Jingfeng loved hearing people say he was still in his prime; hearing this, his expression darkened. Yao Quan’s jab hadn’t landed, and she’d already been slapped in the face once by the champion pair earlier—her face now gloomy.
Director: “…” F-fight… break out already.
After walking a short distance, Yao Quan turned back and imperiously ordered the director, “Cut that segment. Don’t air it.”
Director: “…”
Room No. 1 was on the far eastern end—the farthest. Just as Meng Xueyuan and Lu Xiao reached the door, they happened to run into the young groom of tomorrow’s wedding banquet. Accompanied by his father, he was going door to door informing households of the banquet time.
In rural weddings, the kitchen was mostly staffed by people from the same production team helping each other—one person per household. The groom was handing out cigarettes as thanks.
“Come early tomorrow.”
“It’ll be a bit of hard work.”
When he met Meng Xueyuan and Lu Xiao, the groom paused. He probably remembered that the production team had told them these celebrities would also be helping out, so it was only right to thank them as well.
He handed them two packs of Zhonghua cigarettes—distributed off camera.
Meng Xueyuan hadn’t even worked yet and had already received a reward. He thought he’d better work extra hard tomorrow. Bees hated smoke, and naturally so did Meng Xueyuan. He quietly passed them to Lu Xiao. “Do you smoke?”
“Hm?”
Lu Xiao was observing the groom’s movements with a studious air. Watching him hand out cigarettes door to door, and when he met close, long-time smokers, even pull out an already opened pack from his suit pocket, select two sticks, and pass them over.
Useful knowledge acquired.
To their left lived an elderly couple. The old man had probably quit smoking and handed the cigarettes over to the old lady with a look of deep resentment.
To their right lived a mother and child. The kid held the pack, looked at it, then handed it to his mom. “Can I take this to the corner shop tomorrow and trade it for Ultraman cards?”
In short, only the closest people would pass cigarettes to each other.
Lu Xiao tucked the two packs away. He didn’t smoke that stuff, yet at this moment an inexplicable craving arose, as if he wanted to bite on something.
Seeing Lu Xiao’s movement, Meng Xueyuan pressed his lips together. He had never seen Lu Xiao smoke—so he really did smoke?
The two went inside. The house was fairly standard. What was worth mentioning was that the bed was only 1.5 meters wide, with one side against the wall. With two grown men sleeping there, it was inevitable they’d end up back to back.
Ever since being stimulated by that deeply intense kissing scene last time, Meng Xueyuan had been mentally preparing himself. Now he could calmly pick up his pajamas and head into the slightly transparent bathroom to shower.
Lu Xiao sat on the bed for a while, restless. He picked up his phone, closed the door behind him, and made a call outside.
“Chu Hao,” Lu Xiao asked, “what’s going on with Xie Jingfeng? Didn’t you convey my intention of keeping to our own lanes?”
He wasn’t afraid of verbal jabs, but he didn’t want it to affect Meng Xueyuan’s mood.
Chu Hao was also confused. “I did say it.”
“Thanks.” So the other side was deliberately stirring trouble.
But the two sides had never interacted—where was the hostility coming from? If it was indiscriminate hostility toward same-sex marriage, they hadn’t deliberately targeted the champion pair earlier either.
Lu Xiao called his brother. “Are you declining now? Even Xie Jingfeng dares to pick a fight.”
Lu Lou: ?
Lu Lou: “Who?”
Lu Xiao: “Xie Jingfeng.”
Hearing that, Lu Lou actually laughed lightly. “You should brush up on some old history.”
“When Dad was expanding his business in Hong Kong back then, Yao Quan publicly claimed she’d win him over within a month.”
Lu Xiao immediately understood. Lu Fengge had gone to Hong Kong only after getting married, and the alliance between the Lu and Shen families was well known. In other words, Yao Quan had openly declared she wanted to be a mistress—and failed?
She failed at being a mistress and still held a grudge against him, the son of her romantic rival?
Lu Xiao suddenly got it.
In an elder brother’s tone, Lu Lou said, “Don’t bother with them.” The Lu Group was now leagues ahead of Xie Jingfeng’s so-called Hong Kong tycoon status.
Lu Xiao hung up and went back inside. Meng Xueyuan had already finished showering and was sitting under the covers, dressed neatly in long-sleeved pajamas, seriously thinking about something.
Lu Xiao’s throat tightened. The moment his wife frowned, all those domineering thoughts of “even if the sky falls today, we’re sleeping together” vanished instantly. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Meng Xueyuan said quietly, “The floor is cold.”
I sleep very properly, and I won’t kick anyone.
Lu Xiao: “Okay.”
After showering, it was only nine o’clock.
The two lay stiffly under the same quilt, limbs long, breathing light—like newlyweds who were married but had never received sex education, thinking that just lying together like this would somehow produce a child.
Meng Xueyuan: “Good night.”
Lu Xiao: “Mm.”
An hour later, Lu Xiao quietly got up and went to the bathroom, turning on the tap.
Meng Xueyuan tiptoed after him, crawling to the foot of the bed and tilting his head to get a little closer to the bathroom.
Lu Xiao seemed to be… dealing with a physiological issue.
In an instant, countless news stories about “stealing semen” flashed through Meng Xueyuan’s mind.
