Date
Su Zesui’s gaze darted away, and even his ears felt hot.
Inwardly, he reminded himself to stay reserved, so he swallowed back the words that were on the tip of his tongue. Pretending to be calm, he slowly pulled his hand back from the man’s thigh, then covered his face with one hand to hide his expression that was on the verge of breaking.
A smooth, seamless performance—absolutely no cracks for Gu Yilan to spot. Absolutely aloof.
The red light turned green. Gu Yilan pressed the gas and glanced at the boy beside him—hands covering his face, ears burning red—and chuckled softly. “Want to take a look?”
Su Zesui instantly broke his composure and blurted out, “I’ll put medicine on you.”
Although the words were serious enough, the thought of applying ointment by hand—brushing over the tense muscles of Gu Yilan’s inner thigh, his gaze inevitably lingering on such a private place—made Su Zesui clutch the hem of his shirt nervously.
“When there’s a chance later, I’ll let you see,” Gu Yilan said. “No rush. It’s not going to heal anytime soon.”
Hearing that, Su Zesui’s heart sank. He urged, pale-faced, “Don’t… hurt yourself again.”
Gu Yilan glanced at him. “I’m in a decent mood for now. Probably won’t.”
Su Zesui gave him a thumbs-up. “Good.”
“It won’t heal anytime soon because…” Gu Yilan paused before explaining lightly, “It’s a fresh injury.”
Su Zesui recalled those darkest days just a few days ago. During the time Gu Yilan had vanished, he must have been suffering badly.
Not good with words of comfort, Su Zesui could only ask, “Does it hurt to walk?”
“It’s fine.” Since last night, Gu Yilan had been open to all his questions. “Feels like every step is on thorns, licking blood off a blade. Feels great.”
“Don’t be like that, brother,” Su Zesui said. “You still have to stay with me forever.”
For Gu Yilan, pain could be intoxicating—something that dulled the raging demons in his mind and smoothed over the shadows of his manic depression. Sometimes he couldn’t control himself, and by the time he regained his senses, the damage was already done.
But seeing Su Zesui’s serious little face as he lectured him, Gu Yilan still curved his lips faintly and answered with a soft “Mm.”
——If I’d known “forever” mattered this much to you, I should’ve changed sooner.
Su Zesui didn’t know where Gu Yilan was taking him, and he didn’t ask. He just swung his legs happily in the passenger seat.
All the way, Gu Yilan’s phone was bombarded with calls and messages, buzzing constantly.
Eventually, he switched it to silent. When the screen lit up, he’d glance at it now and then, but never replied—only picking up one call midway.
Wearing his Bluetooth earpiece, he listened to his assistant’s report on the other end, speaking rarely.
For over ten minutes, he stayed mostly silent, giving only a few grunts of acknowledgment, until finally letting out a cold comment: “Useless.”
He refused to bring work into his time with Su Zesui. When his assistant nervously suggested a plan, Gu Yilan simply said, “We’ll talk later,” and hung up.
Although Gu Yilan still appeared every bit as distant and sharp-tongued as usual—his words cutting and icy enough to send chills down one’s back—ever since learning his secret, Su Zesui had begun seeing him through a different lens.
To him, Gu Yilan was like a fragile flower in a greenhouse, one that needed care and protection or else it would wither when hurt.
And he, Su Zesui, should take on the duty of protecting him.
So he awkwardly tried to comfort him again. “Brother, don’t be angry.”
“I’m not.” Speaking to the boy, Gu Yilan’s expression stayed calm, his tone soft—none of that earlier frostiness remained.
From the car’s center console, he pulled out a card and handed it to Su Zesui.
It was a solid black bank card with “Visa Infinite” embossed in gold in the upper right corner. The metal card was slightly heavy in the hand, with a fine matte texture that felt premium.
Looking at the card radiating luxury, Su Zesui’s first thought was of what Gu Yilan had said last night—about transferring all the shares he’d recently acquired into his name.
Not wanting to accept such an expensive gift, Su Zesui held the card and turned to ask, “How much is in it?”
“A few dozen billion,” Gu Yilan said casually.
Su Zesui’s hand froze around the card. He instinctively tried to return it, refusing, “No… not shares.”
“It’s not shares,” Gu Yilan pushed it back into his hand. “Salary card. Keep it.”
Su Zesui blinked, suddenly finding the cool card burning hot in his palm. He fidgeted with his fingers, bit his lip, and finally tucked it deep into the innermost pocket of his small bag.
In the world he came from, even though his parents had died young, he still knew there were many husbands who, after marriage, would hand their salary cards to their wives to show love and loyalty.
And yes—right now, he and Mr. Gu were in this overlapping stage of being both ambiguous lovers and married partners. He didn’t know which way it would eventually collapse.
Half an hour later, they arrived at a luxury aquarium in the city center.
Thanks to its prime location, high-end facilities, and rich variety of marine life, the ticket price was steep, catering mainly to wealthy patrons for dates or leisure.
Even on weekends, visitors were few.
Su Zesui had never been to an aquarium before.
As a child, it was because his family couldn’t afford it. Later, as he grew older, school kept him busy and his social anxiety worsened—he didn’t even want to leave the house, let alone visit crowded entertainment spots.
The moment they stepped inside, soft blue light spread out around them. Schools of colorful fish drifted past like living jewels, the scene tranquil and romantic—like stepping into a dreamlike underwater world.
Su Zesui couldn’t help but whisper a small “Wow.”
Gu Yilan naturally slung the boy’s little blue backpack over his shoulder and followed behind him.
Inside the aquarium, even a single animal could make Su Zesui stop in his tracks. Pointing at the gently drifting jellyfish, he exclaimed happily, “So cute… and sparkling!”
Rarely showing his poetic side, Gu Yilan replied, “Like stars falling into the water.”
Su Zesui clapped enthusiastically.
The two moved slowly through the exhibits.
Whenever they came across a marine creature, Su Zesui would examine it from every angle, exclaiming “Wow!” and snapping photos to document it, occasionally posting a story on his Moments.
Gu Yilan didn’t rush him, nor did he particularly care for the exotic underwater life. He just stood aside, backpack slung over one shoulder, quietly watching Su Zesui, patiently liking every single post he uploaded.
The aquarium had few visitors, but all the staff and surrounding gift shops were in full operation.
Not long after they entered, a young salesperson approached, holding a marine-themed preserved flower.
Su Zesui instantly went on high alert. He stepped forward, positioning himself between Gu Yilan and the stranger, protecting the fragile man who needed care. He feared that if a stranger said the wrong thing, Gu Yilan might go back and hurt himself.
The boy stared at the salesperson intently, nearly spreading his arms and shouting, “Don’t come any closer!” The salesperson froze, unable to deliver his sales pitch for a long moment.
Gu Yilan stood behind him, feeling the stiffness in Su Zesui’s body and his uneven breathing as the boy tried to shield him.
“Close your eyes,” Gu Yilan said, lowering his voice as much as possible, each word firm and deliberate. “Relax your muscles. Breathe deeply, and try to make each breath long.”
Su Zesui instinctively trusted him and almost immediately followed his instructions.
He closed his eyes, slowly letting his tense body relax, taking several deep, long breaths. The gentle airflow brushed against his face, and his anxiety and fear gradually eased. Meanwhile, the presence of the person behind him felt even stronger, giving him a profound sense of safety.
When he opened his eyes again, he no longer felt so afraid of the stranger.
Seeing the boy looking at him with curiosity, the bewildered salesperson finally regained his wits. He smiled awkwardly, holding out his merchandise uncertainly. “Excuse me… what is your relationship, if I may ask?”
Technically, that wasn’t a question he should have asked.
But he was genuinely worried that a therapist had brought a patient to a “calming” aquarium as part of treatment.
“Husband and wife.”
“I’m chasing him.”
Both answers came at the same time, leaving the salesperson even more confused.
His gaze flicked back and forth between the boy and the man before finally addressing the man. “Sir… would you like to buy a preserved flower for the one you’re pursuing?”
Having worked in high-end venues for a long time, the young salesperson had already developed the instinct to recognize truly ultra-wealthy people.
This type of person, since the company is constantly making money off them, often treat money as nothing. For a simple emotional reward, they’re willing to buy merchandise far above its actual cost.
The man in front of them, however, had a cold, dark gaze and an air of long-practiced superiority that made him unreadable—clearly one of the best among them.
He then introduced to Gu Yilan, “Our preserved rose gift box centers on a blue rose, decorated with pearls, shells, and starfish. The box even has blue lighting, symbolizing love as deep as the ocean.”
After all this sales talk, he looked at the man expectantly—only to hear him reply flatly, “I have no money.”
The salesperson: ???
——Not buying is fine, but to come up with such a flimsy excuse, don’t you realize how awkward that makes the young man you’re pursuing?!
Su Zesui had been daydreaming while the salesperson described the product.
He had already seen the price of this so-called preserved rose box. A tiny box, just a few flowers, yet it cost several thousand yuan! Terrifying!
He wanted to tell Mr. Gu not to buy it—it really wasn’t worth it—but felt embarrassed to interrupt. So he planned to wait until the salesperson finished, then tug at Mr. Gu’s sleeve to stop him from buying it, since he didn’t really want it.
Just as the salesperson was about to slink away and Su Zesui silently admired Mr. Gu’s wisdom, Gu Yilan leaned slightly forward and whispered to the boy, “So… would you like to buy one for your brother1?”
The warmth of the man’s breath brushed his ear. Su Zesui felt as if his eardrum had been lightly tapped, and a flush spread through him.
His brain short-circuited, and he stammered, “O-okay… okay!”
The salesperson froze, still unsure what exactly was happening, but his professionalism kicked in, and he blurted out, “Sir… um, what payment method will you be using?”
“Card,” Su Zesui whispered to the stranger.
There was no money in his phone.
Gu Yilan slightly turned aside, letting the boy pull his black card from the small blue bag, lowering his voice with a small smile: “Thank you.”
Su Zesui’s head was spinning as he took the preserved rose gift box from the salesperson, clutching the black card nervously.
As an aquarium catering to affluent clients, card payment was naturally supported.
The salesperson hurriedly pulled a mobile POS machine from his bag, holding it out with both hands for the boy to swipe his card, smiling eagerly.
With a beep, the payment went through—and the screen automatically displayed the black card’s balance.
The salesperson’s eyes went wide, his heart skipping a beat as he stared at the impossibly long string of numbers, unable to stop himself from muttering, “Whoa.”
By the time he finished counting the digits in disbelief, the man and the boy had already walked away.
. . . . .
“N-no need to thank me,” Su Zesui said, a little shy, handing the gift box to the man.
Gu Yilan looked at the blue preserved roses inside. “Beautiful.”
The aquarium’s blue lighting filtered through the tall glass walls, casting a dreamy, romantic glow over the roses.
Su Zesui nervously fiddled with his fingers and whispered, “As long as you like it.”
Gu Yilan smiled faintly, took another moment to admire it, then put the box into his bag.
The aquarium was large, and they moved slowly. To see everything, they ended up spending the whole day inside.
From the underwater tunnel with clownfish, turtles, and sharks, to the open pools where visitors could interact with sea creatures, and finally to the ocean performance hall, Su Zesui never stopped smiling.
They even had lunch and dinner in the aquarium’s ocean-themed restaurant.
By the end of the day, Su Zesui’s Moments was flooded with dozens of updates.
Su Mingyu no longer had to worry about his younger brother being taken to shady places—anyone could see his whereabouts within twenty minutes just by checking his Moments.
Though, the constant likes from a certain someone were impossible to miss and slightly annoying.
The moon hung in the black sky, stars scattered like tiny lights.
Gu Yilan drove Su Zesui home, the trunk filled with all the aquarium souvenirs—everything were things Gu Yilan “wanted.” Su Zesui was frugal himself, but if Gu Yilan wanted something, he would buy it.
Once the car stopped, Gu Yilan got out, opened the door for the boy, and escorted him to the villa’s gate.
“Been walking a long time, tired?” Su Zesui asked, pointing at the man’s legs.
Gu Yilan shook his head slightly, helped the boy put on the small backpack, and slipped the recording pen into the side pocket.
“Remember to put on medicine at home,” Su Zesui reminded. “I walked slowly and spent a long time in the aquarium. Did it mess up your schedule?”
“No. All planned,” Gu Yilan replied.
He was used to making meticulous plans for anything important. For this trip, he had even included dozens of points in his itinerary: what to do if the boy didn’t like the aquarium, how to handle his unusual reactions to crowds, and so on.
Everything went exactly according to plan.
Su Zesui held the straps of his little backpack in both hands. Bathed in moonlight, he looked at the tall man in front of him and at the black SUV not far away, realizing that it was time to part.
Against his will, a strange, lingering feeling of reluctance and bittersweet affection rose in his chest, threads of it weaving through his thoughts, making him wish he could fast-forward to tomorrow morning when they would meet again.
Seeing the boy’s gaze darken, Gu Yilan leaned slightly toward him and raised an eyebrow to shift the topic: “Did you have fun today? Hmm? How would you rate my service?”
Su Zesui lowered his head, but the corners of his mouth lifted involuntarily. He was about to speak, recalling the day’s adventures, when a cold voice came from the window nearby: “Zero. Now go. Su Zesui, aren’t you planning to go home?”
Su Mingyu had finally lost patience and couldn’t help but speak.
The two of them were standing at the doorway, awkwardly lingering, speaking loudly enough to be heard. And he happened to be sitting by the living room window, catching every word clearly.
Seeing his angry big brother, Su Zesui waved at Gu Yilan and quickly headed home.
Gu Yilan watched him enter, calmly saying, “I’ll come pick you up again tomorrow morning.”
. . . . .
In the living room, Su Mingyu watched his younger brother walk into his room with a tulip vase in both hands, smiling as if it were worth nothing, and twitched at the corner of his mouth. “What’s the matter? Am I not worthy of seeing the flowers he gave you?”
Su Zesui placed the vase on the bedside table in his room, then stepped out and earnestly told his brother, “Take good care of it.”
“All right, all right, you little ungrateful brat,” Su Mingyu muttered.
Busy as ever, Su Zesui changed the water, trimmed the flowers, and even took photos to post online, running back and forth with great delight.
Once everything was done, he walked into the living room and asked Su Mingyu, “Big Brother, can I say yes to him now?”
Su Mingyu felt a tightness in his chest, short of breath, dizzy with frustration. “What?! Less than twenty-four hours have passed since you quarreled with him last night! You’re not allowed to say yes.”
Su Zesui let out a soft “Oh,” sounding disappointed.
Su Mingyu patted his chest, silently repeating to himself that this was his own younger brother.
“I told you to stay composed, keep him on his toes, make him want you even more, so he’ll treat you better later. Have you forgotten?” Su Mingyu scolded in exasperation. “And what about the time he tricked you and made you cry all night? Have you forgotten that too?”
Su Zesui just stood there, twisting his fingers nervously, saying nothing.
Seeing his brother like this, Su Mingyu was completely helpless. “He hurt your heart before, didn’t he? You need to get a little revenge. Understand?”
“Forget it, it’s useless to say more. Come here, I’ll show you step by step.” Seeing Su Zesui standing dazed and silent, Su Mingyu beckoned him closer. “Speak quietly.”
When his brother came closer, Su Mingyu picked up a black pen from the table, wrote a few words on a blank part of a document, and lowered his voice to give Su Zesui some advice.
Su Zesui’s eyes widened as he listened to his big brother’s earnest instruction, lips slightly parted, instinctively shaking his head.
- Sometimes, Gu Yilan refers to himself as 哥哥 (Brother) when speaking to Su Zesui. To avoid confusion with the term ‘brother’ for Su Mingyu, I use ‘Big Brother’ to address him. ↩︎