Video (2/2)
Su Zesui diligently worked on his physics competition problem and spent a fulfilling afternoon before dinner time arrived.
Gu Yilan still came on time with a fragrant dinner, but only brought one meal.
Watching the man beside him clear the table, Su Zesui obediently asked, “Brother, are you busy?”
“Not too bad.” Gu Yilan calmly helped set the food down and asked, “Why?”
“Brother,” Su Zesui said excitedly, “look at me.”
Gu Yilan opened the last dish, looked up at the boy sitting next to him, and saw Su Zesui raise his hands, forming a “10” with his fingers.
“Brother, do you know what this means?” Su Zesui asked softly with bright eyes.
He was too shy to say anything so direct again. He planned to introduce it gradually—
First, ask Mr. Gu if he knew the meaning of 1 and 0; then have a pleasant discussion about which of them is 1 and which is 0; and finally, sincerely invite Mr. Gu to do some things that 1 and 0 are supposed to do together, like “dry wood and blazing fire.”
Su Zesui’s idea was good. But before Gu Yilan could say anything, his phone buzzed once.
Gu Yilan took out his phone and glanced at it, frowning. But under the boy’s expectant gaze, he still turned the screen to face Su Zesui’s bright eyes.
Su Zesui glanced at it—
It was a message from Gu Yilan’s professor, urgently asking him to attend an academic seminar in the same meeting room as before—a last-minute, high-priority meeting.
“You go ahead and eat. I’ll help you with your questions when I get back,” Gu Yilan replied, assuming the boy was referring to something in the physics textbook.
Su Zesui responded with a disappointed “Oh,” and waved at him. “Bye, Brother.”
As someone with severe social anxiety, every attempt Su Zesui made to start a conversation took a huge amount of effort.
The repeated failures, coupled with his chronic lack of sleep, had left him utterly drained. If his ability to socialize were a health bar, it would now be just a sliver.
He began to retreat again. Maybe he’d try again later. After all, he and Mr. Gu still had plenty of time. Slowly but surely, one day, Mr. Gu would bring up “dry wood and blazing fire” himself.
Not long after he finished dinner alone, his phone buzzed.
Su Zesui thought it was a message from Gu Yilan and eagerly checked it—
[Brother Gong Chuang: Little brother, still working on your homework? Got time to chat?]
For someone with social anxiety, chatting was probably the last thing he wanted to do. Su Zesui was just about to respond that he had physics homework to finish when another message came in.
[Brother Gong Chuang: Did I ever tell you I actually knew Gu Yilan when we were kids?]
Su Zesui’s eyes lit up with interest, and he pushed his pen and textbook aside.
[(o^^o): No, Brother Gong Chuang.]
[Brother Gong Chuang: Well, you know our families go way back. They’ve been close for generations, and since both sides are in business, they’ve always kept in touch. I used to go over to his house and play all the time.]
[(o^^o): Mhm.]
[Brother Gong Chuang: I was a sweet-talker as a kid—his parents loved me. But Gu Yilan seemed to dislike me even back then. He always shut himself in his room and refused to come out, hahaha.]
He went on for a while. Most of it was unimportant small talk, but Su Zesui read every word with interest.
[(o^^o): Mhm.]
[Brother Gong Chuang: Oh right, I actually have an old photo his parents took of the two of us. Want to see it?]
Without thinking, Su Zesui immediately replied—
[(o^^o): Yes!]
After he sent the message, the chat box showed “The other person is typing…” for quite a while.
Su Zesui guessed Brother Gong Chuang probably wanted something in exchange—after all, a rare old photo like that wouldn’t be given away for free.
He exited the chat for a second and checked his WeChat balance—
Only a few cents left.
Frowning in frustration, Su Zesui returned to the chat, clasped his hands together, and prayed that Brother Gong Chuang’s condition wouldn’t be too harsh. He was willing to do anything else—just not pay money.
But then, just like that, the photo came through.
Caught completely off guard, Su Zesui stared at it for a few seconds, then instinctively clenched his white-knuckled fists, eyes wide.
It wasn’t because the photo was scary.
On the contrary, it was a perfectly ordinary old photograph—no ghostly figures, no eerie vibes. In the center were two young boys, both strikingly good-looking even in childhood—Gong Chuang and Gu Yilan.
Little Gong Chuang had his arm draped over young Gu Yilan’s shoulder and was flashing a peace sign with a big smile. Gu Yilan, even back then, had the same aloof vibe—his face cold and impatient as if to say, “Are we done yet?”
It was a wide shot, and what truly shocked Su Zesui was the background—
A luxurious spiral staircase, an enormous ink-brush-style folding screen, soft grey carpeting… Everything was elegant and grand. The problem was—it looked exactly like the living room of the house they were currently staying in.
Su Zesui suddenly recalled the surveillance footage on Gu Yilan’s phone—clips dating back more than ten years.
Back when he was at Grandpa Gu’s place, he had wondered why Gu Yilan had only moved out of his parents’ home in his teens but somehow had security footage from the “study room” going back that far. Was it digitally faked? Or had this house been built long ago?
But what if… Mr. Gu’s parents’ house looks exactly the same as Mr. Gu’s own house?
Shocked, Su Zesui covered his mouth. His fingers trembled as he managed to type out a single message—
[(o^^o): Why does it look just like Brother’s house?]
Though the wording was vague, the person on the other end—who had deliberately led him to this point—knew exactly what he meant.
Gong Chuang covered his face, took a deep breath, composed himself, and then replied, feigning surprise—
[Brother Gong Chuang: Eh? Gu Yilan never told you? He intentionally had his place remodeled to look exactly like his parents’ home.]
[(o^^o): Why?]
[Brother Gong Chuang: He didn’t tell you that either? Wow, he really doesn’t trust you, huh?]
[Brother Gong Chuang: His parents are extremely controlling. They’ve always monitored his every move, even when he was a kid. But that’s not the main point.]
Su Zesui rubbed his chest. A dull ache settled in.
[Brother Gong Chuang: They once had a really intense falling-out. I don’t know exactly what it was about, but after that, Gu Yilan moved out. His parents were afraid he’d lose control, and he was even more afraid his parents would go crazy. So he insisted on decorating his own place to look exactly like his parents’ house, torturing himself every day… What’s that word again? Oh, right—persecutory delusion.]
[Brother Gong Chuang: He watches his house like a hawk every day, trying to analyze the mindset of the person living in it, guessing if there are hidden rooms where someone might lose control… Do you think that’s necessary? I honestly don’t. To me, that’s the behavior of a madman.]
But Su Zesui didn’t think he was crazy.
All Su Zesui felt was a heavy, suffocating pressure in his chest.
[Brother Gong Chuang: Oh, right—did he ever show you the surveillance footage on his phone? There’s even video from his parents’ house. Did you know that?]
[Brother Gong Chuang: Actually, it’s not just him watching the surveillance at his parents’ place—they can also see what’s happening at your place.]
[Brother Gong Chuang: They’re silently watching your every move.]
After sending that last disturbing message, Gong Chuang flipped his phone face down on the table and buried his face in his hands.
It was his first time doing something like this. At first, he wasn’t used to being the “vicious antagonist.” But the more he said, the more uncomfortable he felt.
It might’ve been easier if he had just stated the facts plainly—but no, he had to inject emotion, emphasize the drama, and ended up dragging himself into it. He couldn’t help but feel a little heartache for a person who supposedly didn’t care.
He was sitting in a meeting room, but their professor usually didn’t micromanage. Meetings were casual—everyone could do whatever they wanted.
Half an hour later, the meeting ended, but no one was in a rush to leave. People chatted idly with those nearby.
“Where’s that little friend of yours today?” Ji Yuxing smiled as he pulled a handful of candy from his pocket, deliberately poking at Gu Yilan’s sore spot. “I even brought a bunch of his favorite sweets just for him.”
The term “that little friend of yours” was so obviously directed that several students—still reeling from the explosive gossip earlier—stopped packing up and perked their ears.
Suddenly, no one was leaving the meeting room.
Even their fifty-something-year-old professor seemed intrigued, turning to look at his favorite student, who didn’t seem like the type to date.
Gong Chuang silently broke into a cold sweat for Gu Yilan, afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face.
But he had underestimated how composed the man could be.
Gu Yilan’s expression didn’t even twitch. In an even tone, he said, “He’s just a relative’s kid. He’s on summer break, and I’ve been helping him with homework. He probably won’t be coming anymore.”
“A relative’s kid?” Ji Yuxing raised an eyebrow. “You’re that busy, and you still have time to tutor a kid you barely know?”
Gu Yilan didn’t want to answer that nosy question, but unfortunately, even his gossip-loving professor chimed in curiously, “Yeah, I was wondering the same.”
“He’s kind of like a younger brother to me. Since he calls me ‘brother,’ I have a responsibility to look after him,” Gu Yilan replied.
Seeing that the conversation was about to spiral out of control, Gong Chuang quickly jumped in to smooth things over. “He really is like a little brother—same blood and everything. You guys just misunderstood. I was just helping Gu Yilan pick up a copy of <Advanced Physics Problem Sets>, both volumes, to help his little brother prep for the Physics Olympiad.”
Ji Yuxing noticed the textbooks sitting by the door and laughed. “That’s a tough book. Even most of our physics grads couldn’t finish it.”
Gong Chuang seamlessly continued, “Good thing he’s got Gu Yilan! As an older brother, he should do what he can. Just yesterday, I shared my best Physics Olympiad online course with the kid.”
“With big brothers like you two, Physics Olympiad must be a breeze,” Ji Yuxing joked.
“Right? Just the other day, Gu Yilan and I helped him do a quantum eraser experiment. The kid’s sharp and eager to learn.”
The conversation gradually turned light and cheerful. Even their elderly professor asked about the kid—how old he was, whether he was well-behaved, and if he might one day apply for a PhD under him.
Gu Yilan lowered his dark eyes and gently rubbed his fingertip against the table. His voice was low: “He’s a good kid.”
Before he could finish his sentence, there was a knock at the meeting room door.
Gong Chuang looked around, confused—almost everyone from their group was here.
Who would be knocking right after a meeting? The cleaning staff?
The next second, the door opened.
And there stood Su Zesui, his pale and beautiful face suddenly in full view of the room.
The pen in Gu Yilan’s hand froze mid-spin. Just as he was about to ask why the boy was here, his professor stood up first and walked over to the bashful teen at the door.
After all these years of working with dull doctoral students, the professor hadn’t seen someone so fresh and lively in ages—let alone a high school Physics Olympiad student. And to top it off, he was Gu Yilan’s “younger brother.” Honestly, kind of adorable.
“Brother.”
A young relative from Gu Yilan’s extended family spoke up, his voice trembling. Like he had made up his mind to risk it all, he raised his tone and said, right in front of everyone in the meeting room: “I like you. I want to sleep with you.”
Gone was the usual timid, mosquito-like murmur. Each word rang out loud and clear, resonating through the silent conference room with firm conviction. There was no mistaking what he said.
The professor who had been walking over to hug the boy froze mid-step. Gong Chuang’s phone dropped to the floor with a loud clatter. Even Ji Yuxing, normally calm and composed, lost his cool and muttered under his breath, “What the f—”
The whole room, as if on cue, turned in unison to stare at Gu Yilan.
What in the Wei Wuxian!