Moon (1/2)
Gong Chuang didn’t dare to take the blame for such a big mess. He pale-facedly tried to argue that it was just an online course for the science competition, then hurriedly dug out a few real online courses from his old collection and sent them to Su Zesui, urging the boy to study hard.
After sending them, he even deluded himself by showing the courses on his phone to Gu Yilan: “See, these are really top-notch materials.”
Gu Yilan glanced briefly at his phone screen, then lowered his gaze to adjust the dilution refrigerator, cooling the temperature down to near millikelvin levels to prepare for the upcoming superconducting qubit experiment.
Gong Chuang dreaded moments like this the most—Gu Yilan’s expression was calm and indifferent, not saying a single word of judgment, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking, which only made Gong Chuang feel more pressured.
Feeling guilty, he couldn’t help but step forward and say a couple more words: “I really didn’t say anything. Please believe me.”
“Hm,” Gu Yilan replied.
His tone was steady, his movements precise and efficient, emotions almost nonexistent. His attitude was a confusing mix of “I would believe you even if you said nothing” and “Stop messing around—I don’t believe a word you say.”
Gong Chuang hurriedly helped him control the microwave pulse, resetting the qubit state to the ground state, then asked in a way that only made things more suspicious: “Do you think he’ll listen to me and seriously study those online science courses?”
Gu Yilan let Gong Chuang adjust the experimental equipment for him, took a half step back, and coldly looked at him: “I’ll say it one last time: I only treat him as a little brother.”
After Gong Chuang’s persistent efforts, Gu Yilan’s “attitude wave function” finally collapsed—collapsing all the way to “Stop messing around—I don’t believe a word you say.”
Gong Chuang hurriedly said, “I get it, I get it. I won’t cause you any trouble from now on.”
“He’s still young, still in high school. He’ll have many more choices in the future,” Gu Yilan said again. “He doesn’t know anything yet, and I don’t want to do anything to him at this time.”
Gong Chuang thought to himself:
——Are you seriously calling your legally adult wife ‘someone who doesn’t know anything and can’t be touched anywhere because he’s just a high schooler’?
But he only replied aloud, “Yes, yes.”
Sometimes, Gong Chuang really wished he could travel back a few days and slap his overly curious, gossip-loving self.
Because that night, the unpredictable little bomb and curious cat Su Zesui “studiously” sent him a WeChat message—
[(o^^o): Brother Gong Chuang, am I a 1 or a 0?]
After just one day apart, the boy had made incredible progress and actually knew what 1 and 0 were.
But it nearly made Gong Chuang drop his phone.
[Brother Gong Chuang: Please, kid, I really don’t know. Let’s never talk about these dirty topics again and be pure little babies, okay?]
[(o^^o): Okay, thank you Brother Gong Chuang.]
Gong Chuang breathed a sigh of relief.
[(o^^o): I’d better go ask my brother.]
[Brother Gong Chuang: Wait!!!]
Gong Chuang almost fainted from the shock.
He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, with no good options.
[Brother Gong Chuang: Promise your Brother Gong Chuang first that after asking this question, you will forget about the video, okay?]
[(o^^o): Mm-hmm]
[Brother Gong Chuang: Also, you swear you won’t tell Gu Yilan that I sent you the video.]
Otherwise, your Brother Gong Chuang will be doomed.
[(o^^o): I swear.]
Seeing the boy’s last message, Gong Chuang couldn’t help but laugh at his own childishness. He was already in his twenties—how was he still playing these oath-taking games? It was like a playground fight among elementary school kids.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating.
He could clearly feel that, for some reason, the boy’s mental age seemed even younger than he appeared, and his understanding of reality was quite fuzzy.
Maybe Gu Yilan was right—such a pure, blank-slate boy shouldn’t be tainted by the filthy adult world. He should cut his losses now to prevent the boy from digging any deeper.
[(o^^o): Brother went back to his room. He said he has something to tell me. I can play on my phone for five more minutes.]
Gong Chuang’s heart skipped a beat.
He really couldn’t stand Gu Yilan’s presence right now. He guessed Gu Yilan probably knew what he had told Su Zesui, but maybe not that he had directly sent those hardcore videos.
Otherwise, Gu Yilan wouldn’t have just given him a couple of verbal warnings.
He’d probably be standing at his doorstep with a knife.
[(o^^o): Brother Gong Chuang, please tell me [cute bunny pleading.jpg] I promise I won’t tell Brother.]
Brother Gong Chuang couldn’t take it anymore. To protect himself, he had to sacrifice his own dignity a little.
[Brother Gong Chuang: You’re 0.]
[(o^^o): Why?]
Gong Chuang’s eyes widened. Why even ask?! Don’t you think it’s unimaginable—and downright terrifying—to have your rebellious brother be the “0”?!
[Brother Gong Chuang: Your brother is 1. You have to be 0 to be with him.]
[(o^^o): Okay, then I’m 0.]
——What’s with that disappointed tone?!
Gong Chuang broke down and typed—
[Brother Gong Chuang: Go talk to your brother! Don’t forget your promise!!!]
[(o^^o): (cute bunny waving goodbye.jpg)]
“Done playing?” Gu Yilan came over and placed a tablet in front of him. “Here’s the guest list for the banquet the day after tomorrow.”
Su Zesui tossed his phone aside and watched Gu Yilan’s finger scroll through the PDF file.
Faces of unfamiliar relatives flashed by rapidly.
The notes in the file were very detailed. Not only were there photos of relatives from both sides from different angles, but also their identities, ages, their relation to Su Zesui, and how he should address them.
“Do I have to meet all of them?” Su Zesui clenched the bedsheet tightly, making a clear crease.
“You need to go greet them,” Gu Yilan glanced at his clenched fingers. “Tomorrow’s a full day. For now, just go through the file and get familiar with them.”
“Brother, I’m scared.” Su Zesui sat up and opened his arms toward the man standing by the bed.
Gu Yilan helplessly gave him a light hug.
The boy’s fluffy head nuzzled right against his chest, humming softly to show his reluctance. It made one want to pinch his fair, soft cheeks.
Gu Yilan hesitated a moment but said nothing.
After so many outings, Su Zesui had gradually desensitized himself to “basic socializing with strangers” and soon accepted the reality.
He let go of the man’s arm, leaned back a little, then quickly glanced downward at a certain part of Mr. Gu.
Though embarrassed, Su Zesui quickly turned his head and refocused on a spot on the bed—but he did see it.
He thought: If the day of intense passion really comes, he’d probably cry even harder than the person in the video. Luckily, Mr. Gu has always been gentle with him; by then, he’d probably listen and take a break when told!
“What are you thinking about?” Gu Yilan waved his hand in front of him.
Su Zesui snapped out of it, blushing as he turned away.
His language and social skills were much weaker than normal, and it took him a while to think of an excuse by the time Gu Yilan came out of the bathroom: “Brother, you didn’t give me the voice recorder.”
“I’ll give it to you tomorrow,” Gu Yilan said.
The voice recorder’s recordings were when the boy spoke most fluently and freely. To prevent loss, Gu Yilan had saved all the existing recordings to his computer and connected the recorder to the cloud, so future recordings would be saved automatically in real time.
. . . . .
On Thursday and all through the day Friday, after finishing the science competition assignments Gu Yilan had given him, Su Zesui spent the rest of his time studying the guest list for the banquet.
His parents and brother also sent him messages, saying they missed him and were looking forward to seeing their “Suisui.”
By Friday evening, the wedding banquet, themed as a simple dinner gathering, took place as scheduled.
The butler drove the two hosts to the entrance of the banquet hall.
The building’s exterior featured high-end materials like marble, glass, and metal. Its surface gleamed like a mirror, reflecting the dazzling city lights of A City at night. It looked like a modern-day palace, exuding unmatched grandeur.
No one knew exactly how much it cost to rent out the entire venue for just one night.
Inside the hall, rows of elegant long tables were neatly arranged. Su Zesui stood beside one of them, recognizing many faces he had memorized from the guest list.
Fortunately, Mr. Gu’s tall frame partially shielded him from view, and the butler stood close by as well, giving Su Zesui a comforting sense of security.
After all, it was a wedding banquet, so both sets of parents had to give short speeches.
Luckily, all of them were seasoned figures in the business and political world—accustomed to public appearances and unfazed even when called up at the last minute.
Especially Gu Yilan’s father.
The Su family had brought fewer people, so most attendees were elders and juniors from the Gu family. And Father Gu, who had taken up leadership in the family’s business empire since the age of twenty, was particularly skilled at stirring emotions with words.
By the end of his speech—though it was technically about his own son’s marriage—he had the entire Gu family audience in tears, full of admiration and emotion.
It was a classic case of killing two birds with one stone.
Even Su Zesui found himself wanting to work for this incredibly dependable-sounding man’s company.
But Gu Yilan, throughout the entire speech, kept his eyes lowered. He didn’t just seem indifferent—there was a distinct chill about him.
“Young Master Gu, the fruit tea is ready,” the butler said as he approached with a tray.
“Brother, are we going over there now?” Su Zesui pointed toward the crowd.
“Mhm. Time to offer tea.” When Gu Yilan lifted his eyes again, all emotion had been wiped clean from them. “We’ll go see your parents later.”
The Su family had always believed their youngest son was just messing around, and that this ridiculous marriage wouldn’t last. So only a few of the people closest to Su Zesui had shown up—not to attend a wedding, but just to see how he was doing.
Gu Yilan planned to finish the formalities quickly and then bring Su Zesui to his parents so they could catch up.
Su Zesui took a sip of the overly sweet fruit tea and asked, “Not drinking alcohol?”
The butler stepped in to explain with a smile, “Young Master Gu never touches a drop of alcohol. Everyone knows that, so no one will make things difficult.”
Su Zesui blinked in surprise and looked up at the man beside him. “Why not?” he asked curiously.
Gu Yilan stood up and calmly swept a glance over the room. “Alcohol makes people lose control. I don’t like that.”
Su Zesui thought for a moment, then suddenly understood.
They say that fine wine numbs the nerves and helps people forget their troubles. The effect, tied to the synapses in the brain, really can make someone lose their rationality.
Mr. Gu didn’t smoke, didn’t drink—definitely an ideal marriage partner.
Even though he understood the reason, Su Zesui still felt curious about what “losing control” actually looked like. His gaze drifted toward a passing server carrying bottles of Lafite.
Gu Yilan gently turned the boy’s wandering head back to center and said softly, “You can’t drink either. Be good.”
Su Zesui touched his now flushed cheeks where the man had just nudged him, and muttered a quiet “Okay.”