Goodnight Kiss
He Zhouyan’s fists unconsciously clenched, as if struggling against a certain desire.
Yet not a trace of emotion showed on his face. He nodded naturally. “Mm.”
Lu Congxing finally relaxed, thinking he was probably just overthinking things.
He wasn’t a child anymore—there was no reason for his guardian demon to want to watch him shower.
The bathroom door was semi-transparent and frosted. From the outside, you could vaguely make out a silhouette but not any clear details.
Inside, the cub showered without a care, completely unaware that the man who just moments ago looked so calm and proper was now staring at the bathroom door like a wolf locked onto its prey.
As if he could see right through the frosted glass.
When Lu Congxing finally came out, freshly showered, He Zhouyan sat there calmly, eyes fixed on his phone screen.
Relieved, Lu thought to himself that the fleeting feeling of being watched in the bathroom must’ve been his imagination.
Had he looked more closely, though, he might’ve noticed the phone screen had stayed on the home page the entire time—and the man’s eyes had never actually looked at it.
With practiced ease, He Zhouyan picked up a towel and began drying Lu Congxing’s damp black hair.
It was something a simple spell could have taken care of, but he insisted on sitting with the cub on the bed, pulling him close. He opened a puzzle game and handed it over like a sweet treat meant to coax a child.
And Lu Congxing accepted it without the slightest suspicion. His life had become fully immersed in a scent called Bai Ze—it felt so natural, like this was always meant to be.
He wore a loose white T-shirt, his relaxed posture casual and open, and the faint flush on his skin offered quite a feast for He Zhouyan’s eyes as he dried his hair.
He was like a big bad wolf gently luring a little lamb, inching closer bit by bit.
Then, just before Lu Congxing could notice, he backed off with perfect timing and said naturally, “Sleep now. We’ll deal with everything tomorrow.”
He pinched his fingertips hard, reminding himself not to scare him off.
The cub didn’t understand anything yet. He would find the right moment to take him back to his den completely—but not just yet.
Lu Congxing nodded obediently and put down the puzzle game he had just cleared.
The panda alarm clock had just planned to come in and remind him to go to bed but, upon seeing the scene, walked away dejectedly on its short little legs.
It had been left behind by the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs to keep the cub’s schedule in check. Yet no matter how hard it tried, the cub had never been this well-behaved. And now, He Zhouyan had only been the guardian demon for a few days and was already doing a better job than it had.
The panda alarm clock decided to go vent to Yingying and the mirror ghost, who didn’t dare step into Bai Ze’s territory and had no home to return to. Maybe it was time for this poor little alarm clock to retire too.
“Goodnight,” He Zhouyan said calmly, dropping a light kiss at the corner of Lu Congxing’s eye.
It was soft, barely a touch before he pulled away.
Lu Congxing froze.
When he was little, his father had given him goodnight kisses too—but always on the forehead.
This was the first time someone kissed him at the corner of his eye.
But He Zhouyan’s attitude was so natural, Lu Congxing simply blinked a few times and accepted it, replying sweetly, “Goodnight.”
It was only after turning away that He Zhouyan allowed a smile to curl at the corners of his lips.
Yes, he had done it on purpose.
In order to prevent the cub from confusing admiration with affection, he used these subtle gestures to distinguish his love from a father’s.
Even his silent invasion of the boy’s daily life—it was all part of it. Like the most patient hunter, he had laid an inescapable trap.
. . . . .
The next day, He Zhouyan once again dumped the company’s matters onto Qu Xiu and swaggered off with Lu Congxing to the film set where Wen Yi was working.
As soon as the car stopped, they were swarmed by paparazzi. Like bees drawn to flowers, they buzzed around the luxury vehicle.
There were only a few people in the city who could afford to ride in such a car. No matter which celebrity stepped out, it would be worth snapping photos.
So, when Lu Congxing opened the car door without a second thought, he was instantly bombarded by camera flashes.
This time, he wasn’t arriving with Film Emperor Gu—he hadn’t expected to be ambushed like this, and his face was completely unprotected.
A clean, youthful face was suddenly exposed under the camera’s lens.
Fortunately, thanks to He Zhouyan’s presence, the paparazzi didn’t dare to get too close.
Their profession gave them sharp instincts—even if they didn’t recognize He Zhouyan, they could tell at a glance that he wasn’t someone to mess with.
So, they kept their distance and took photos from afar.
He Zhouyan, with a bit of a show-off attitude about the cub, didn’t stop them. Instead, he confidently walked into the building with the cub in his arms.
As soon as they entered the set, they saw Wen Yi in the middle of a scene with another actor.
Wen Yi was so professional that even Lu Congxing had to admire her. She hadn’t even asked for time off.
When Lu Congxing saw her, after a good night’s rest, she had already returned to her energetic, lively self.
Gu Hanyin was reading his script with the help of his assistant. When he noticed the commotion, he looked up impatiently.
Everyone nearby instinctively went quiet, afraid to provoke the famously hot-tempered actor.
They thought the pretty-looking boy might get scolded, but surprisingly, Gu Hanyin just glanced in that direction—then quickly showed a slightly awkward expression.
It only lasted a second before he composed himself and walked over, a subtle joy in his eyes.
Gu Hanyin asked, “What are you doing here?”
He was still in costume for his role—a refined young master who had studied abroad during the Republican era. The outfit made him look elegant and polite, and the sharpness in his features had been softened by makeup.
Before the boy could answer, He Zhouyan pulled him behind himself and responded, “We’re here to see someone.”
He practically had “None of your business” written on his face.
Gu Hanyin froze for a second but didn’t back down.
His eyes followed the boy being protectively shielded, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “I don’t recall asking you.”
The atmosphere immediately turned tense.
Lu Congxing looked between the two.
The aura between these two people doesn’t seem to match very well.
Of course, he was biased toward his guardian demon. So, he tugged on He Zhouyan’s arm and led him away, like pulling along a disobedient big dog.
He Zhouyan threw a mocking smile at Gu Hanyin, his usual president aura tinged with a bit of jealousy.
Gu Hanyin’s gaze locked on their naturally interlaced hands, and he said nothing more.
Lu Congxing didn’t interrupt Wen Yi’s scene. He just quietly waited nearby.
With He Zhouyan around, even if the crew was curious, no one dared to gossip.
After watching for a while, Lu Congxing finally noticed that Wen Yi’s scene partner was the same young actor who’d almost bumped into him the other day—and who had seemed a little hostile.
He had a good memory and clearly remembered that when Gu Hanyin brought him to set, that young actor had kept sneaking jealous glances at him.
The young actor’s performance was a bit stiff, and the short confrontation scene had to be stopped several times by the director because of him.
It took way longer than expected to finish filming.
As soon as Wen Yi wrapped up, she ran straight to Lu Congxing like a happy little bird.
She chirped excitedly, “Xing Cub, you came to see me!”
Lu Congxing nodded. He already saw Wen Yi as a real friend, so of course, he needed to get to the bottom of things. “Do you remember what happened the night you had your first nightmare?”
Wen Yi shook her head. Lin Yang had sprinkled some Forgetfulness Powder on her, so she couldn’t remember the bloody details of that night. But the fear had still left a deep mark in her heart.
She looked a bit scared. “Will I be pulled back into that realm again?”
Lu Congxing, like a warm-hearted big brother, reassured her, “No. But unless we find out who framed you, you’ll still be in danger.”
Wen Yi clutched her mouth in shock, heart pounding. “You mean…?”
In the entertainment industry, it wasn’t unheard of for people to use dark and twisted means to try to hit it big. But Wen Yi didn’t think she had offended anyone enough to be cursed. In that moment, she just couldn’t wrap her head around it.
Lu Congxing nodded firmly in agreement.
Just then, a hesitant voice interrupted them.
“S-sorry.” Chen He walked over, his eyes slightly red. “I wasn’t in a good state today, and I dragged you into filming so many scenes with me.”
As he spoke, he reached up and pounded his right shoulder, looking like he was in a lot of pain.
Wen Yi found it a little strange. Chen He was a small-time actor forced into the production by the investors. His acting had always been subpar, and this was the first time he had ever taken the initiative to apologize to her.
Following his gaze to He Zhouyan, Wen Yi—who’d been in the entertainment industry for two years—wasn’t naive. Her mouth moved faster than her brain, and she blurted out, “Well, I think your acting today was actually pretty good.”
Chen He’s innocent, rabbit-like expression twisted for a second. He looked up with those freshly reddened eyes. “Sister Wen Yi, are you still mad at me?”
He turned his best side toward He Zhouyan, his whole demeanor radiating stubborn strength and self-pity.
Wen Yi’s assistant quickly ran over and tugged at her sleeve, whispering, “Did you forget about what happened with that trending topic last time?”
Previously, Wen Yi had talked to Chen He about constantly forgetting his lines. Somehow, he ended up with teary eyes again, and things got twisted when the story leaked. The narrative online turned into her acting like a diva and bullying a newcomer right after getting famous.
Even though the director was furious, they still couldn’t figure out who from the crew had leaked it.
As a controversial star used to both love and hate, Wen Yi had a more optimistic mindset than most. But that didn’t mean she was going to let Chen He use her again. So, she shut her mouth.
Chen He was secretly pleased. He had once attended a charity banquet with his sugar daddy and had seen He Zhouyan there.
He knew this man wasn’t ordinary.
He looked at Lu Congxing with jealousy, wondering why it was him—again. Why always him?
Last time, it was Film Emperor Gu who personally brought him to the set. And now, someone even more powerful had appeared.
Chen He, judging others by his own standards, assumed Lu Congxing was just another pretty face who had clung to a powerful backer to land a role.
His internal alarm bells were ringing.
Men all have a certain flawed instinct, and Chen He was particularly good at leveraging his good looks. He knew exactly how to flirt with powerful men in high positions.
His current sugar daddy had fallen for him using similar tricks.
Chen He sniffled softly, putting on a brave smile as if he were holding back tears. “It’s okay, I’m not upset.”
Even Wen Yi began to second-guess herself, wondering if she really had been too harsh with him just now.
Unfortunately, his performance was destined to be wasted—like casting flirtatious glances at a blind man. He Zhouyan didn’t even spare him a glance, let alone any attention.
Lu Congxing, however, did respond to his words. With a meaningful look, he asked, “You said you weren’t in good shape today. Didn’t sleep well last night?”
Chen He’s head snapped up, locking eyes with him—only to be met with a gaze that was half a smile, half a challenge.