Chapter 17
Meng Xueyuan had always known Lu Xiao’s temperament.
He’d known it from the very first day he entered the industry. Back then, he’d just signed the marriage agreement with Lu Xiao. His manager had privately comforted him: Don’t worry about the company favoring one over the other and using you as a stepping stone for Lu Xiao. Lu Xiao’s novelty phase is short. Once he’s had his fun and reached the top, he’ll quit the industry. You, on the other hand, are the star the agency wants to cultivate long-term.
Lu Xiao had achieved success in many circles. If this were ancient times, he’d be a young marquis famed throughout the capital—riding through the streets on horseback, crowds calling out ahead of him, fruits tossed into his carriage.
When he left a circle, he did so cleanly, without taking a trace with him—just like when he left racing. No one called him Alen anymore. No one had seen him race. No one heard of him contacting his old team.
If that happened, the marriage certificate would be the first thing Lu Xiao would deal with—cutting off all ties.
Without the legal bond of marriage, a nuptial flight wouldn’t be possible.
Meng Xueyuan didn’t dare ask whether Lu Xiao planned to divorce. He wanted to fight for a little more time—what if it succeeded during filming?
“We have to get up early tomorrow. Go to bed soon,” Meng Xueyuan said, preparing to go inside.
At last, the anxiety hanging in Lu Xiao’s heart eased. He hadn’t mentioned divorce.
By downplaying the marital relationship between them, he’d finally found something useful. As long as Meng Xueyuan didn’t sense restraint, there would be no reason to divorce.
Two years ago, when he had just started doing public couple “fan service” with Meng Xueyuan, Lu Xiao occasionally couldn’t control his mouth. When they went on a home-renovation variety show together and talked about a Chinese-style wall cabinet with lots of compartments and elaborate patterns, Lu Xiao thought it looked good. Meng Xueyuan said it would easily collect dust and be hard to clean.
Throughout the entire renovation show, Lu Xiao’s mind wandered. All he could think about was studying hard so that one day he could decorate their shared home properly. When Meng Xueyuan said it would be hard to clean, Lu Xiao blurted out, “You wouldn’t have to clean it.”
Either they’d hire a cleaning service, or he’d do the housework himself—he wanted that beautiful, intricate carved Chinese cabinet! It would match his beautiful wife perfectly.
That single sentence made the entire internet ship them as already living together.
[Brother Lu, all the thoughts in your head have completely leaked out.]
[A man showing another man his “husband material” traits… he wants to—]
[That’s a confession, right?]
[You’re just trying every trick to lure Yuan-yuan into cohabiting with you!]
Was he really that obvious? Lu Xiao hadn’t expected netizens to read so much into it—they’d guessed his intentions exactly. In a later interview, he hurriedly hinted that he liked living alone.
What if Meng Xueyuan ran away after seeing through his feelings?
After finishing his reminiscing, Lu Xiao said, “Good night.”
He lightly shook the box of durian mille crêpe in his hand and realized Meng Xueyuan didn’t like durian flavors. Durian was such a strongly scented fruit—he should have asked first whether Meng Xueyuan liked it. But the aunt at home was so good at baking that even people who didn’t like durian would want to try it, so he’d brought it back directly.
A small tip for wooing someone: not only cater to their preferences, but also bravely bring your spouse to try new things. If a suspension bridge effect happens, you can secretly rejoice.
Result of wooing attempt: failure.
After saying “good night,” Lu Xiao stood where he was, watching Meng Xueyuan close the door. The hallway ceiling lights glowed warm yellow, making one’s gaze look especially tender.
Meng Xueyuan waited at his door for about five minutes before hearing the sound of Lu Xiao’s door opening.
Honestly—queen bees newly entering society were prone to overthinking. Good thing he wasn’t like that anymore.
Here, Meng Xueyuan would like to give special thanks to Lu Xiao’s solo-fan forum for providing him with a dose of clear-headedness.
He crawled into bed and eagerly opened the [Only Love Lu Xiao] forum, clicking on a featured post: [My brother looks hard to mess with, but is he actually a big warm guy?]
It was a sugar-washing thread that had been updated for two whole years.
Meng Xueyuan thought it made a lot of sense.
Solo fans scrutinized their idol daily with a magnifying glass—they understood Lu Xiao better than he did.
That forum user with a level even higher than his, [@SupremeNightWatcher], was said to be a hardcore solo fan who’d watched the entire FBI series ten times. Their analysis was the most convincing.
Meng Xueyuan still remembered when the two of them had just entered the entertainment industry and their manager had bundled them into a renovation variety show.
“You two are tall, long-legged, and strong—just put your heads down and work. Later I’ll market you as overflowing with boyfriend power.”
Lu Xiao was extremely capable and drew in a massive wave of fans.
[Lu Xiao, how many construction teams have you led? How do you know how to do everything! He can use every tool!]
[Damn, if I’d met Lu Xiao earlier, I wouldn’t have married a man who got scammed out of 200,000 by a renovation company.]
[Meng Xueyuan, what incredible luck.]
At that time, Meng Xueyuan was planning new housing projects for his clan. All the things that gave him headaches became non-issues with Lu Xiao around. His favorability skyrocketed—and he’d also been teased by that “you wouldn’t have to clean” line.
The queen bee began to stir.
The queen bee discovered the solo-fan forum.
[@SupremeNightWatcher: No way, no way—are there really people who didn’t hear how impatient my brother sounded?]
1L: Renovation is a private matter. As long as my brother likes it, it’s fine to have elaborate Chinese carvings throughout the house. Isn’t Meng Xueyuan meddling too much? It’s not even your house, and you wouldn’t be the one cleaning. Good thing my brother clapped back on the spot.
Meng Xueyuan: “…”
Later, Lu Xiao publicly said he liked living alone. Screenshots were posted on the forum, and solo fans spread the news everywhere—we’ve grasped the truth.
Meng Xueyuan: Oh. Overthinking again.
Lu Xiao liked living alone, but the bee clan liked communal living. Even when building houses, they had to be right next to each other. Meng Xueyuan adapted well to group dorms during training—Lu Xiao must find it hard to adapt every day.
Public “fan service” was always a mix of truth and falsehood. Those involved were confused; they needed clear-headed people to pull them back.
Meng Xueyuan clicked into a new post and opened his private album.
[@hhhh: Sharing pics o(???)o]
1L (@SupremeNightWatcher): Did something good happen to you today, ma’am?! There are six pictures—one more than before!
Meng Xueyuan had happy things and unhappy things too. Time to sleep.
The next day.
Lu Xiao made breakfast and came to knock on Meng Xueyuan’s door, gently coaxing him, “With two elevators and two units per floor, no one else will come up. I won’t close my door at home—if you’re looking for me, just come in. No need to knock.”
Before he’d even finished speaking, the two of them had walked from Meng Xueyuan’s door to Lu Xiao’s. The aroma of breakfast drifted out from inside, giving the morning a warm, peaceful feeling.
Meng Xueyuan could only reciprocate politely. “Then I won’t close my door either.”
The corner of Lu Xiao’s mouth lifted—this was exactly the “reciprocity” he’d been waiting for. If neither of them closed their doors, how was that any different from living together?
Meng Xueyuan sat down and saw a peeled hard-boiled egg placed in front of him. The corner of his mouth drooped slightly.
Who told him to eat breakfast with Lu Xiao? The price was eating eggs. Short-handed when you take from others; soft-mouthed when you eat their food. Meng Xueyuan could only obediently eat the egg.
Lu Xiao fixed his gaze on his nose, then his heart. Whenever his wife ate eggs, he looked especially easy to bully—who could resist boiling eggs for him?
With a bit of conscience, Lu Xiao said, “These are diced pickled vegetables the aunt made. They go well with the egg white.”
Meng Xueyuan lifted his eyes and looked at the golden radish cube Lu Xiao brought to his mouth. It was sour and crunchy. Like a picky child, he didn’t swallow food he disliked right away—the egg white stuffed his cheeks until they puffed out.
He lowered his thin eyelids slightly and opened his mouth just a little, not able to open it too wide.
Seeing his mouth full of egg white, Lu Xiao smiled, moved his chopsticks, and fed him directly.
Meng Xueyuan chewed. The flavor of the pickles mixed with the egg white, and then he lowered his head and took a bite of the yolk. Meat and vegetable balanced together, the bland boiled egg suddenly became delicious.
Why did food fed by Lu Xiao taste so good?
“Full already—time to head out.” Meng Xueyuan pulled out a tissue and wiped the egg yolk from the corner of his mouth. At home, he basically didn’t apply anything to his face, going barefaced; he’d only put on makeup once they got to the set.
Clearly, he looked better before makeup—yet in those stupid cameras, he somehow looked more suitable after.
Lu Xiao thought to himself: fine, then I’ll just enjoy it alone.
The urban portion of Little Mountain God was filmed in Nancheng, but the location was relatively remote, so the production team booked an entire floor of a nearby hotel for them.
Today’s scene was about the Little Mountain God visiting the city for the first time, using an invisibility spell to secretly observe the domineering CEO in his office, and being shocked by modern technology.
The director said to Meng Xueyuan, “Your gaze should be shocked but curious. When you look at Lu Xiao, add a hint of confusion—wondering why he won’t get married and made you get blown up by firecrackers five times… hey, yes, that look exactly. Hold it. The dazzled expression.”
Lu Xiao came out after changing into a suit. He played a single-minded, marriage-averse CEO. He hadn’t used the suit provided by the crew, bringing his own instead—perfectly tailored, sharp and structured. The smoke-gray suit seemed welded onto him, like a heavy midnight covering all his former roguish undertones, leaving only steadiness, reliability, and an air of inscrutable depth.
This suit was more formal than the one he’d worn during the previous livestream interview. He wore a blue-and-white striped tie and men’s formal leather shoes, adding a touch of restrained, ascetic allure.
Lu Xiao walked straight behind the desk. Everyone in his family was a CEO—once he put on a suit, he could blend seamlessly into the Lu family, becoming ordinary. It also restricted his movements, which was why he didn’t like wearing suits.
Meng Xueyuan looked at Lu Xiao and dazedly thought: was this what Lu Xiao would look like if he went into business and worked in an office?
His heart thudded wildly, and he heard the director say, “Very good, the gaze is right.”
“…”
If Lu Xiao dressed like this every day after retiring from the industry, that actually wouldn’t be bad… tsk, but he wouldn’t get to see it anyway.
The director strolled over to Meng Xueyuan’s side. He was convinced that this kind of aloof, high-and-mighty beauty had strong pride—pointing out acting issues in public would only embarrass him.
Lowering his voice, the director said, “That was enough—dial it back a bit. The leads’ first meeting is more about observation, not being completely spellbound.”
“…”
Meng Xueyuan’s face flushed red.
The director clasped his hands behind his back. See? Thin-skinned.
[The Little Mountain God decides to help the CEO find a marriage partner, to fulfill his parents’ wishes and avoid being disturbed again.]
[When the Little Mountain God enters the city, he picks up two old-school romance novels. The dazed, innocent heroine spills coffee on the CEO by accident; the CEO gives a wicked smile—Woman, you’ve caught my attention.]
[Little Mountain God: ?? Just copy it wholesale.]
The “Little Mountain God” sat on the CEO’s wide desk, long legs hanging naturally over the edge and crossing lightly. With a flick of his finger, the coffee that the secretary had just set down steadily on the desk went out of control and splashed onto the CEO.
This cup of coffee had practically come alive—sure enough, the “CEO” was caught his attention.
Lu Xiao noticed Meng Xueyuan’s ankle. The Little Mountain God’s robe was tattered and couldn’t hide it. Meng Xueyuan sat beside him without any guard up—if Lu Xiao reached out, grabbed that ankle, and lifted it, Meng Xueyuan’s upper body would topple onto the desk.
“Damn it.” The “CEO,” soaked in coffee, stood up abruptly.
Lu Xiao raised a hand and loosened his collar. Why was it getting harder and harder to restrain himself every time he saw Meng Xueyuan lately? If this kept up, his prized self-control…
It was already like this during the day—what about at night? He’d even abused his authority to arrange for them to stay in the same hotel suite.
Should he switch rooms?
Lu Xiao hesitated all day. In the end, he chose to cling to his wife and suffer for it.
That night, he lay in the suite under a thick quilt, playing dead. The quilt was heavy—it could hide a lot of abnormalities. Suddenly, the air conditioner was turned off.
Lu Xiao: ?
Meng Xueyuan put down the remote. Running the AC in this weather wasted electricity—and it had made Lu Xiao cold.
Lu Xiao couldn’t keep hiding under the quilt anymore, but he was also afraid Meng Xueyuan might suddenly come in and notice his condition. In the end, he took a risk, crossed the living room, and went to take a cold shower.
Meng Xueyuan sat cross-legged on the bed, tablet in hand. His gaze slipped through the door crack and landed on the bathroom’s glass door.
There wasn’t much time left before the nuptial flight.
Summoning his courage, Meng Xueyuan gently pushed the door open, bare feet stepping onto the carpet as he approached the bathroom.
“Lu Xiao.”
Lu Xiao’s voice was slightly hoarse. “Mm?” How could his wife talk to him at a time like this?
Holding the tablet, Meng Xueyuan tilted his head and asked, “Have you finished checking in?”
Lu Xiao’s head felt muddled. Checking in? Was Meng Xueyuan mocking him for “checking in” in the bathroom?
Meng Xueyuan said, “Did you forget? The Entertainment Industry Association requires each of us to register under our real names for The Reform Plan and accumulate two hours of viewing time.”
The reform plan targeting scandal-tainted artists had already launched its first phase, “inviting” four artists with moral failings to undergo reform inside the program.
Strictly speaking, the origin of this plan could be traced back to the Little Mountain God production’s prostitution scandal that shocked everyone.
This wasn’t a variety show, but a serious reform program. Cameras were set up at a fixed distance, livestreaming artists doing labor for eight hours a day—no slacking allowed. Artists couldn’t speak or play to the camera.
For other artists, checking in was basically like watching traffic accident videos for driving test Subject Four—meant to serve as a deterrent.
Lu Xiao remembered now. He’d had his manager viewing hours for him.
Meng Xueyuan asked, “Want to watch together?”
Lu Xiao found it hard to refuse. “Okay.”
Meng Xueyuan said, “Come out soon—I’ve already started.”
Once Meng Xueyuan urged him, Lu Xiao had no choice but to come out halfway, forcibly calming himself. It was just a legal-education program, not a movie.
There was no TV in the suite’s living room, but there was a projector in the bedroom, facing the head of the bed.
Meng Xueyuan cast the program onto the wall and made room on half the bed.
Watching a “movie” together to build intimacy ?
Lu Xiao steeled himself and got onto the bed. He opened the reform program on his phone, muted it, tossed it aside to rack up viewing time, and watched the projection together with Meng Xueyuan.
It was already dark in the livestream too. The production team didn’t bother with extra lighting, so what appeared on screen was just a pitch-black silhouette, waving a broom and panting as it swept the streets.
Unluckily, the last solar streetlight on the road flickered a few times—and gave up.
The screen turned completely black, leaving only the sound of the artist’s breathing.
It wasn’t pleasant to listen to, and listening to this together with Lu Xiao felt a bit awkward. Meng Xueyuan muted it, rubbed the back of his hands, and wanted to chat for a bit.
He and Lu Xiao rarely engaged in idle conversation. For a moment, Meng Xueyuan didn’t know what topic to bring up, so he followed the livestream’s theme. “This reform program… the conditions are pretty harsh.”
Lu Xiao said, “Mm.” It was just average—those people simply couldn’t endure hardship. Sweeping the streets and dragging it out until nightfall. If it were him, he could even finish Meng Xueyuan’s share of the work on time.
Meng Xueyuan said, “Speaking of which, it originated because of the scandal surrounding our movie.”
Lu Xiao said, “Mm.”
Meng Xueyuan felt sweat about to bead on his forehead. Lu Xiao only replying with “mm”—could this conversation even continue?
Wait.
Lu Xiao’s voice… hadn’t he just been doing that in the bathroom?
So Lu Xiao hadn’t finished yet, and he’d called him out midway?
Meng Xueyuan stared at Lu Xiao.
Lu Xiao’s hand tugging at the blanket was stiff. Still staring—he might as well give up resisting at this point.
A spark of inspiration struck Meng Xueyuan. Going with the flow, he said, “Our movie really is kind of cursed. Learn from past mistakes—if your needs in that area are relatively strong and you can’t resolve them yourself, you absolutely can’t take illegal routes.”
He sounded perfectly reasonable. After all, if the film shut down one more time, it would really be dead.
A vein bulged on Lu Xiao’s forehead; he was almost angry. “In your eyes, I’m the kind of person who—” would go looking for prostitutes? Sorry, his bottom line was terrifyingly firm.
At the same time, Meng Xueyuan said, extremely shyly, “But you can ask me to help.”
Help???
The second half of Lu Xiao’s sentence was swallowed back instantly. Fine. He was indeed a man without any bottom line.
“How would you help?” Lu Xiao was afraid of misunderstanding him and didn’t even dare use any specific pronouns.
Meng Xueyuan lowered his head, revealing a slender, pale nape. A flush crept from his neck all the way to his earlobes.
Blushing? Just like he’d imagined!
With reckless courage, Lu Xiao asked, “With your hand?”
