Chapter 101: The Wedding (Part 2)
After proudly securing last place, a disheartened Chen Bai was led away by the person beside him.
Even while leaving, he complained about how his friends weren’t really his friends—they didn’t let him win at all.
On a day like today, they should’ve let him win at least once, even if it was a fake victory.
His friends, who had only heard each other’s names before and hadn’t really known one another, became fast friends after one round of the game. They quickly teamed up and, with a wave of their hands, declared that it was because they were friends that they wouldn’t go easy on him.
A heartbroken Chen Bai was taken away, and in the end, he even forgot his jacket, which his thoughtful husband kindly retrieved for him.
Meanwhile, Chen Yi Wan, the dog, was lost in a crowd, basking in attention, getting head pats and treats, completely unaware that his two dads had already left.
The driver started the car, but instead of returning to the estate, the newlyweds headed to their home in the city center.
In the car, a sulking Chen Bai replayed the day’s most tragic game in his mind, analyzing it over and over. His conclusion: it was purely bad luck. No amount of strategy could compensate for such a huge pitfall.
He leaned against the person beside him, only to complain that their body was too hard, claiming he had bumped his head and now needed compensation for his injury.
He was being completely unreasonable, acting as if he’d had fake alcohol instead of juice.
The “bump” had barely any force behind it and didn’t hurt at all, but Xu Sinian played along, gently touching Chen Bai’s perfectly unbruised forehead and, in all seriousness, asked, “Does it still hurt?”
Chen Bai, satisfied with the performance, declared that it no longer hurt.
Xu Sinian chuckled—his husband could be so unreasonable, but he was easy to please.
They still had some time before reaching the city, so Chen Bai pulled out his phone, intending to play a couple more rounds of the board game and settle the score that night.
However, when he looked at the time on his phone, he finally remembered what day it was.
First of all, it was the beginning of the month. Second, it was his wedding day. And third, it was his wedding night.
Apart from sneaking out to work during high school, the most daring thing he had ever done was initiate a kiss. Now, it seemed like he finally had to think about something a little more… practical.
He quietly shifted over a bit, leaning his phone against the chair. Quickly, he opened a search engine and began typing.
“…”
The light from the screen illuminated his face as his pupils moved up and down, scanning the results. He slowly pressed his fingers against his lips, lost in thought.
But he didn’t have much time to think.
The roads, which were usually congested in the evening, were unusually clear tonight. They arrived at the apartment building without delay.
Chen Bai, also unusually, didn’t jump out of the car right away. Instead, he got out slowly, at half-speed, as if taking extra care on this particular evening.
Holding hands with his kind neighbor, they walked up the stairs. Chen Bai’s mind raced, rare silence surrounding him. The person beside him glanced at him.
The elevator doors opened with a “ding.” They stepped into their home, and the lights came on.
While Xu Sinian went to the bedroom to put away their coats, Chen Bai immediately went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of cooking wine, the kind he only occasionally used when preparing meals. It wasn’t too hard for him to open the bottle, and he took out a glass as well.
He half-closed his eyes, tilting the bottle slowly, as if conducting a scientific experiment. A few drops of wine dripped into the glass—just enough to barely cover the bottom.
By the time Xu Sinian returned, he saw Chen Bai setting the bottle down on the table.
Guessing what Chen Bai was about to say, Chen Bai waved his hand and said first, “It’s only two drops—I won’t get drunk.”
“I’m just building up a bit of courage,” he added.
Without waiting for a response, he downed the two drops of wine, which barely wet his lips.
Alcohol courage activated, Chen Bai thought to himself that, in his usual state, there were some things he might never dare to try in his entire life.
Knowing full well what had been on his mind, Xu Sinian lowered his gaze and said gently, “If you’re scared, you don’t have to force yourself. We can just sleep for now…”
Before he could finish, Chen Bai closed the gap between them, pressing his warm lips against Xu Sinian’s and pulling him closer by the nape of his neck.
Fueled by his liquid courage, Chen Bai made his move.
After all that buildup, the most he dared to do was initiate a kiss.
He usually wasn’t very forward, and his actions were clumsy. Even reaching up to kiss Xu Sinian’s neck made him tired. After barely two minutes of being proactive, he felt the urge to pull away and rest.
Unbeknownst to him, someone had already wrapped an arm around his waist, making it impossible for him to retreat.
Just as he caught his breath, the heat between them reignited.
The grip on him tightened, and when Chen Bai tried to lower his hands, they landed on Xu Sinian’s shoulders. Instinctively, he clung to the fabric of his shirt.
His breath was taken away, his limbs turned to jelly. When they finally separated briefly, Chen Bai’s breathing was completely out of sync. His hand slipped from where it had been gripping the now-creased white shirt.
Struggling to catch his breath, the next thing he knew, he was lifted off the ground and carried to the bedroom.
His head sank into the soft pillow, the familiar scent filling his senses. His messy hair splayed out across the white pillowcase, and before he could open his eyes fully, he was enveloped in shadows once again.
A large, warm hand slid behind his head, fingers threading through his hair as he was pulled up for another heated kiss.
It was getting hot.
By the time they parted again, and Chen Bai finally found his breath, it felt like every exhale was burning his skin. Half-opening his eyes, he noticed his eyelashes damp from the tears that had welled up naturally at the corners of his eyes. He reached up to loosen his tie.
But he had no strength left. It didn’t look like he was untying it, more like he was just fiddling with it.
The strange warmth on his body continued to rise, and finally, he managed to let out a breathy request: “Xu Sinian, help me undo it.”
He thought he had spoken normally, but as soon as he heard his own voice, he realized how hoarse it was, his words trembling slightly.
The person above him responded with a gentle “okay.”
With deft fingers, Xu Sinian easily undid the tie in two smooth motions.
The sound of the fabric sliding free from his collar filled the room.
Loosening his tie wasn’t enough to cool him down. The considerate Xu Sinian then touched the buttons on his disheveled shirt and asked, “Do these need to be undone too?”
He was incredibly thoughtful, and the person lying in bed murmured a soft thank you.
Xu Sinian bent down to undo the buttons while the person on the bed reached for the discarded tie, fiddling with it slowly.
Halfway through unbuttoning, cold, pale skin was exposed to the air, previously hidden beneath the thin shirt. As Xu Sinian continued, his shirt sleeve was tugged lightly.
It was a gentle tug, but he noticed it and looked up.
“…”
In that brief moment, his dark pupils constricted.
The person who had sunk deep into the soft bed had, in the silence, tied the discarded tie into a bow around their neck.
Having once learned how to wrap bouquets and gifts, Chen Bai’s bow was beautifully tied and neatly shaped. However, it wasn’t tied tightly due to his lack of strength, so it hung loosely, at risk of falling apart at any moment.
With nothing else at hand to practice with, he had used the tie to fashion a gift-wrap-style bow around himself.
Though he hadn’t practiced for years, his technique was still skilled. Pleased with the result, he smiled faintly with half-closed eyes and asked, “Isn’t it pretty?”
The bright red tie stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin, with his slender neck appearing even more fragile than the loosely tied bow. It was almost painfully eye-catching. Xu Sinian lowered his gaze and earnestly replied, “It’s beautiful.”
He reached out, tightening the bow so it wouldn’t fall apart, no matter how much movement followed.
Chen Bai, happy to have his effort praised and cherished, smiled.
But that smile didn’t last long.
The bow was indeed tight, so much so that it didn’t come loose, whether Chen Bai was rubbing against the sheets or trembling against the pillows.
His pale fingers instinctively gripped the bedsheets tightly, his fingertips turning white, and then flushed red after he let go.
The white sheets, wrinkled from his grip, retained deep creases, yet the bow remained perfectly intact.
Sweat from his forehead was wiped away, and the tears spilling from his eyes were kissed away. In the confusion of sensations, Chen Bai couldn’t tell whether the overwhelming feeling was pain or something else. Unable to hold back, he let out a sound, but soon realized it didn’t even seem like his own voice—it sounded more like he’d been crying. Embarrassed, he bit his finger to stifle the noise.
The hand he was biting was gently taken away. “It’s okay. There’s no one else here,” Xu Sinian reassured him.
Lowering his head, he kissed Chen Bai’s lightly furrowed brow and whispered, “I want to hear your voice.”
That night, which stretched longer and felt more exhausting than even his late-night streaming marathons, left Chen Bai’s voice raw.
“…”
The next day, before he even opened his eyes, Chen Bai instinctively reached out.
He didn’t feel the familiar plush softness but something large enough to hold. So, he grabbed it and even draped his leg over it, mumbling something about reminding Yi Wan not to take off his sweater so carelessly next time.
Then, he drifted back to sleep.
When Chen Bai woke again, the sun had shifted from one side of the room to the other.
He reached out again to grab the loyal dog he had dreamt about, but this time, his hand came up empty.
With nothing to grab, he opened his eyes. The floor-to-ceiling windows were draped with curtains, so the sunlight wasn’t too glaring, only softly illuminating a corner of the floor and the edge of the bed.
The mistake he made was in stretching lazily before his mind had fully awakened. The moment he raised his arms, his entire body froze, and he couldn’t help but inhale sharply.
Soreness—always worse after a deep sleep. It wasn’t the kind of pain he felt when Yi Wan accidentally stepped on him, but a slow, deep ache that had seeped into every muscle.
It was a subtle, lingering discomfort that wouldn’t go away easily.
His soft gasp was barely audible, yet footsteps echoed from outside the room. Someone in an apron walked down the hallway and asked, “You’re awake?”
Still frozen in his half-stretch, Chen Bai paused a bit longer before finally lowering his arms. He yawned and croaked, “Yeah, I’m awake.”
His voice was hoarse, like someone who hadn’t spoken in centuries or had spent centuries talking non-stop.
After sleeping until the afternoon, he felt fully rested. Propping himself up in bed, he was about to get up and wash up when he noticed his shirt from yesterday had somehow been replaced by clean pajamas. His body felt dry and fresh.
It was the same dog-themed pajamas he usually wore.
Aside from the lingering soreness, nothing else seemed amiss. He got out of bed, but the moment his feet touched the floor and he stood up, he realized something was wrong. He steadied himself just in time.
…It was like he had stayed up all night helping college students run a thousand-meter race.
The person standing by the door noticed and approached, but Chen Bai raised his hand just in time to stop him. “I’m fine, I’m steady.”
He had wobbled because he’d stood up too quickly. Although his legs were weak, he managed to stay on his feet and head to the bathroom.
After a quick wash, he hurried to the dining room and collapsed into a chair.
There was a quiet “clink,” and his usual cup with a little dog head on it appeared in front of him. He squinted, took the cup, and drank.
The water was warm, with a slightly sweet yet bitter taste. His eyes opened a little wider as he looked up.
Xu Sinian walked over from the kitchen, bringing over a bowl of porridge that had cooled slightly. Meeting Chen Bai’s gaze, he said, “Throat-soothing tea.”
Chen Bai “…”
Recalling something, Chen Bai instinctively reached up to touch his throat.
But instead of his throat, he felt something off.
The texture was smooth, like fabric. Something wasn’t right. He looked down and saw the red tie still around his neck.
Chen Bai “…”
Suddenly, all the memories—both those he wanted and didn’t want to remember—came flooding back. In silence, he slowly ran his hand over his face.
The courage alcohol gave him… turned out to be much more potent than he had anticipated.
He couldn’t believe what had been going through his head last night.
His ears turned red as blood slowly rushed to them. After wiping his face, he immediately reached for the tie around his neck, trying to get rid of the evidence as quickly as possible.
But just as he was about to do so, he felt a gaze on him.
Looking up, he met the eyes of his considerate neighbor, who was standing nearby, watching him.
They exchanged a brief yet drawn-out look for two seconds. Somehow, Chen Bai inexplicably understood the emotion in Xu Sinian’s eyes, and his face twitched hard before he finally spoke: “…You can’t bear to part with it?”
Then, he watched as Xu Sinian nodded and said, “It looks great.”
—He actually admitted it!
Chen Bai’s face continued to twitch as he looked between the tie and Xu Sinian’s dark eyes. In the end, he waved his hand dismissively: “If you can’t bear to part with it, then keep it.”
They weren’t going out today, so having an extra piece of fabric didn’t hurt. If Xu Sinian really liked it that much, it wasn’t a big deal to leave it on.
So, the bowtie made from the tie stayed.
After a long night, Master Chen enjoyed a bowl of porridge made by Comrade Xu.
Cooking wasn’t a talent in the Xu family, and Xu Sinian’s previous attempts in the kitchen had been disastrous. But after so much practice, he had at least mastered the art of making porridge.
It wasn’t particularly delicious, but it was healthy and wouldn’t cause any issues.
Chen Bai instinctively felt it was probably not a good idea to head back to bed after eating, so instead, he lay down on the couch.
His personal cushion—Xu Sinian, who had washed the dishes—came over and sat beside him, taking the place of the pillows.
Leaning against him, Chen Bai picked up his phone to reply to messages from his manager.
The manager had sent a message earlier that morning, likely guessing that Chen Bai wasn’t awake at the time. He was asked to respond when he woke up and post a couple of photos from yesterday.
There were plenty of photos from yesterday. The event had a photographer from the planning team, and many of the wedding guests were photographers themselves. By last night, they had already sent over the pictures.
Scrolling through the photos, Chen Bai, who had laughed through most of the event, slightly widened his eyes. “These photographers are amazing.”
Despite the chaotic laughter, the photographers had managed to capture a surprisingly solemn atmosphere, making it look like the event had been a serious occasion.
It was a matter of perfect timing—one second earlier or later, and the illusion would have been shattered. Their ability to capture the moment was extraordinary.
The earlier photos looked quite formal, while in the later ones, he was laughing the entire time, unable to maintain any seriousness.
After selecting two of the more formal photos, Chen Bai tilted his phone slightly toward Xu Sinian and said, “These two are good—they make me look very serious and proper.”
Xu Sinian chuckled and agreed.
So, Chen Bai uploaded the two carefully chosen photos.
His manager had asked for two photos, and that’s exactly what he posted—no more, no less.
[Chen Yi Bai: [photo] [photo]]
Almost instantly, notifications flooded in. The red dots that had never quite cleared up quickly multiplied.
[It’s past 2 PM now, I finished lunch ages ago. Chen Yi Bai, you’re finally awake?]
[Such serious photos, such a serious Yi Bai… But honestly, Yi Bai, the videos of you playing Ludo with everyone and bantering with Qian Jing have gone viral. (Just saying) (pat on the shoulder)]
[I recognize this place! The flowers are beautiful and well-maintained. It used to be a popular small scenic spot, and lots of my friends visited it before. Turns out it’s privately owned! (closing eyes emoji)]
[I saw this somewhere yesterday—someone in the know mentioned that the flowers were planted by Brother Xu for Yi Bai, and that he’s been tending to them for years. (single people in peaceful solitude emoji)]
[Haha, someone listed all the people who appeared in yesterday’s video. A real-life version of Boss Direct Hire—throw a ball, and you’d hit a big shot or a famous director!]
…
After the wedding, Chen Yi Bai’s manager cleared out half a month of rest time for him.
In a month, you can do a lot, or go many places, but in the end, he chose to stay home.
He and Comrade Xu had bought a house together, not far from their previous neighborhood, still near the city center for convenience with work and outings.
They specifically chose a two-story house with a yard, anticipating that their dog, Yi Wan, would come over to play. It wasn’t particularly big, but it was spacious enough for the two of them and for Yi Wan to run around.
Ever since he sold off all of his family’s real estate at the age of 18, this was the first time in years that he had a place to call his own.
From room layouts to decorations, every detail was decided by them. Half a month wasn’t enough time, so even after he returned to work, he made nightly calls to discuss any unfinished decisions.
From an empty shell, it gradually took on the feel of a home. When the furniture filled the empty rooms and the air was cleared of any lingering smells, Chen Yi Bai’s film wrapped, and they officially began moving in.
It was during the move that he realized the room with the best lighting throughout the day—initially reserved for “something else”—was actually his piano room, complete with a piano quietly placed in the center. The flowers in the garden had bloomed, and when he opened the windows, it felt like a sea of blossoms, with small dog play areas hidden among them.
Yi Wan loved the place. From the first time they brought him over, he quickly marked it as his territory and even brought his favorite, though well-worn, stuffed shark to settle in.
The key to the house already had a keychain attached—Yi Wan wearing a red bowtie.
The fluffy white dog dashed around the yard, making the flowers sway. Chen Bai, sitting by the window with a cup of throat-soothing tea, leaned against his ever-present cushion and tried to recall the early days when they first met. After some thought, he nodded and said, “Good thing I made two extra buns that day.”
Good thing he happened to live in that apartment building, happened to get up at 2 AM to steam buns, and happened to run into this neighbor on his way home from work. Two previously parallel lines had crossed.
His old neighbor laughed softly, the vibrations rumbling through his chest. Grateful for those two buns, he asked, “Do you want to make another movie together?”
Chen Yi Bai looked up at him.
——
Time marches on, and the film industry changes every year.
For example, after collaborating with Chen Yi Bai again, Xu Sinian noticeably began to step away from the industry, shifting his focus and appearing more frequently in financial news.
Some were saddened, while others rejoiced. The actors who had been overshadowed by him for over a decade, always in the same time slots, finally felt like they had a chance to shine and eagerly prepared to make their moves.
Every generation has its shadows. They lived through not one but two. After spending more than a decade under the shadow of Xu Sinian, the mountain above their heads didn’t disappear—it was simply replaced by another: Chen Yi Bai.
Young, talented, and energetic, with no family inheritance waiting for him, Chen Yi Bai dedicated all his time to honing his craft in the industry. The more he worked, the heavier the shadow he cast over others became.
Just like how people used to avoid releasing their films around the same time as Xu Sinian’s, at some point, the industry quietly began to avoid clashing with Chen Yi Bai’s films as well.
While Xu Sinian, the man who never removed his wedding ring, graced the cover of financial magazines, Chen Yi Bai was abroad, winning an international award. His wedding ring and the trophy on his hand shone equally brightly.
Few people still remember that this highly decorated top-tier actor once made a living by streaming in a rented apartment in a residential building. It was only by accident—when he went to unlock a door for a film crew—that he stumbled onto a path he had never imagined walking.
He arrived alone, with nothing but sorrow in his heart, yet he still managed to forge his own way—a path now lined with flowers and applause.
Behind him is home, and ahead of him is the road. He was born to stand in the spotlight, to rise to the top, surrounded by countless admirers.
**Author’s Note:**
This is the end of the main storyline!
See you tomorrow!
Looking back, remember when Comrade Xu frowned the first time he heard a certain Bai ask if he needed “special services”? Who would have thought it would come to this, Xu! (Sly Samoyed smile)
