Xie Guan successfully scared away his fleeting romantic thoughts by using his imagination. He grabbed a pen and doodled for a while, practicing Huo Mingjun’s elegant and free-spirited signature. After finishing, he picked it up and examined it for a moment. Feeling satisfied with his work, he put down the pen and stretched lazily. “You probably didn’t have a good dinner, did you? Would you like a late-night snack?”
He shook his head and chuckled, thinking that placing Xie Guan in a school setting wouldn’t be easy for the teachers, “Restless.”
Xie Guan confidently replied, “I call it lively and energetic.”
“Yes, and still young,” Huo Mingjun continued, “you’re still growing and need to supplement your nutrition. Does your manager know that you eat a late-night snack at ten o’clock?”
With a stern expression, Xie Guan slammed the table, “Enough talk, eat or not, one word!”
“Eat,” Huo Mingjun replied.
The two exchanged a glance in perfect agreement, and happily went downstairs to prepare a meal.
Following the health-preserving principles passed down within the Huo family, dinner should be light and consumed in moderation, and no food should be eaten before bedtime. Late-night snacks and other snacks are considered particularly sinful. Huo Mingjun lived under these rules for over twenty years. Coupled with his own lack of desire for rich and flavorful foods, he was essentially immune to the concept of late-night snacks. Even when he had frequent social engagements and couldn’t eat much for dinner, he would at most heat up a cup of milk when he got home. Since no one would proactively prepare food for him, he needed to ask the housekeeper to make whatever he needed, and the enthusiasm for eating was often worn away during the process of waiting.
Xie Guan’s culinary skills might not necessarily surpass those of the auntie who had cooked for a lifetime, but Huo Mingjun always enjoyed the dishes he made. In turn, it increased his anticipation for the late-night snack. The significance wasn’t just in the soup and rice, but rather in the unique “intention” that represented the late hour when he was still cherished and cared for by someone.
“I see there’s bone broth in the fridge. How about making a bowl of wonton soup?”
Being in the kitchen was more comfortable for Xie Guan than staying in the study. He retrieved some shiitake mushrooms and a handful of scallions from the refrigerator, along with a package of ground meat. Huo Mingjun joined in to help with the vegetable washing, and Xie Guan didn’t object. The two stood side by side at the kitchen counter—one a CEO, the other a star. Despite neither resembling a typical homemaker, the atmosphere was unexpectedly harmonious. They displayed a silent portrayal of “life is good,” making it look strangely warm and affectionate
The ground meat was seasoned with sugar, salt, light soy sauce, and five-spice powder, then stewed. It was then mixed with chopped scallions and shiitake mushrooms. Xie Guan quickly rolled out the dough for the wonton wrappers and cheerfully taught Huo Mingjun how to wrap wontons. As the bone broth boiled, lifting the lid released a large cloud of warm steam. Seaweed and dried shrimp danced in the boiling broth, and the thin wonton wrappers revealed the dark color of the meat filling. After a few minutes, they were ready to be served. A small handful of fresh cilantro adorned the bottom of a white porcelain bowl. The clear broth, green leaves of seaweed, red shrimp, and delicately filled wontons floated on top. The presentation was simple, yet the aroma was intoxicating.
Each with a bowl in hand, they sat face to face, enjoying the delicious meal.
Although late-night snacks were considered sinful, they could bring unparalleled feelings of happiness. What the hot soup soothed wasn’t just a growling stomach but also all the uneasiness, awkwardness, and anxiety, the hesitation to speak and the inexplicable low spirits.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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After eating and drinking their fill, the two returned to their respective rooms. Xie Guan stayed in the master bedroom last time but moved into a guest room this time. As soon as he sat down by the bed, he heard someone knocking on the door.
“The door isn’t locked.”
Huo Mingjun pushed the door open, dressed in a deep blue silk robe. In his hands was a plump and round… crab.
Xie Guan couldn’t help but burst into laughter immediately. Huo Mingjun held the creature with a pincer and lifted it in front of him, his mouth twitching as he asked, “How did it end up on my bed?”
Sorry,” Xie Guan apologized with remorse, “it was a gift from a fan, and I wasn’t paying attention. It grew legs and wandered off by itself.” As he spoke, he reached out and pinched the small, slender legs protruding from the pillow, innocently saying, “Look, it does have eight legs.”
Huo Mingjun was rendered speechless by his childishness. Who knew how startled he was when he pushed the door open and saw a pink crab pillow sitting regally on his pillow, with Xie Guan smiling in delight. The culprit then cheekily inquired, “Surprised or not? Unexpected, right?”
Having maintained his purity for thirty years, being invaded by a crab on his bed left him at a loss for words.
Huo Mingjun’s gaze went beyond Xie Guan’s shoulder, catching a glimpse of the half-light-green crab claw peeking out at the head of his bed. Then he looked down at the cherry blossom pink one in his hand and suddenly grasped the mystery. In an instant, he wasn’t angry at all.
Not only did he no longer feel angry, but he also thought that even though the Crab Fans might sometimes be unreliable with words, their actions were thoughtful and meticulous. Truly a group of considerate little angels.
Holding the other claw of the crab, Xie Guan said, “Don’t you like it? It looks so cute.”
“…” Huo Mingjun cleared his throat with dignity and said insincerely, “I’ve never put these things on my bed. You can keep it. This one and the one on your bed don’t make a pair, do they?”
He was waiting for Xie Guan to say, “Each of us has one,” so they could seamlessly go along with a couple-like scenario. However, this obtuse individual’s focus shifted again. Waving the claw at him, he said, “If you haven’t done it before, you can start getting used to it now. It won’t molest you, what are you afraid of?”
Huo Mingjun: “…”
Afraid that if he continued chatting with Xie Guan, he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, he swallowed his pride. He picked up the crab, and prepared to return to his room. Xie Guan was still behind him, saying, “Be careful, you might pull off its claws later.”
Huo Mingjun took a deep breath, scowled, and pinched the pink crab under his arm before walking away.
“Tsk tsk, so tsundere,” Xie Guan returned to the bed, hugging the grass-green crab and rolling around, “Saying no with your mouth, but your body is quite honest.”
The next day’s schedule originally only included a magazine cover shoot in the afternoon. Coincidentally, Wang Ruolun and Li Yan were also scheduled for a shoot at the same location. The three people were familiar with each other individually but never formally met together. So, after the shoot, Wang Ruolun found a place, and the three of them enjoyed drinks and conversation, chatting until midnight.
Around midnight, Lin Yao suddenly called him and added an impromptu item to his schedule—a segment for an indoor cooking show called Super Cook. The original guest was a fresh-faced young man recently signed by Lin Yao, and unfortunately developed acute appendicitis the night before and underwent emergency surgery
The show had certain requirements for the guest’s cooking skills, and simple dishes like scrambled eggs with tomatoes wouldn’t cut it. Among the male artists in the company, few could cook, and even fewer had exceptional cooking skills. Fortunately, there was Xie Guan, a versatile talent. Wherever he was needed, he could be deployed. He was supposed to attend a charity dinner the following night, the main event of this visit back home. He should have been conserving energy and preparing for his appearance, but Lin Yao found him for this additional task, and Xie Guan couldn’t refuse, so he reluctantly agreed.
That evening, when Xie Guan mentioned the matter to Huo Mingjun, he paused his typing and asked, “Red Square banquet? Hosted by the Taihe Sun family?”
Xie Guan didn’t know what the “Taihe Sun family” was, but he understood the rest, “Yes, the Red Square charity banquet.”
“That’s easy,” Huo Mingjun calmly resumed typing and said, “I happen to be going there tomorrow night as well. After finishing the recording, come directly to the company to find me. Clothes and stylists are all prepared on my side.”
“You’re going too?” Xie Guan asked in confusion, “Why didn’t you mention it before?”
“Just decided,” Huo Mingjun replied.
Xie Guan: “…”
Xie Guan hesitated and said, “Mingjun, you really have the potential to be a foolish emperor…”
Xie Guan thought he would retort with some teasing words to dismiss his “self-importance,” but surprisingly, Huo Mingjun didn’t deny it. Instead, he looked at him deeply.
This one silent and heart-pounding look detonated a large mass of elusive doubts and vague unease. The familiar feeling of the heart contracting returned.
Even though Xie Guan might be straightforward and slow to pick up on things, he’s not a fool.
Huo Mingjun had done so much for him, and every word and action were carefully stored in Xie Guan’s heart. Even among friends, there should be limits to how much one person does for another. This kind of alteration of schedule, almost unconditional indulgence based on a single sentence from him, was clearly crossing boundaries.
However, Xie Guan didn’t feel offended, angry, or disgusted. He didn’t invest much attention to matters of sexuality. He was just stunned by the speculation of “does he like me,” and he found himself in immense confusion and disbelief. Yet, this wasn’t a negative emotion. It held a bit of understanding, a realization of “so it’s like this,” and a faint sense of inevitability.
He thought with a heart as lifeless as ashes, “What can I do? I’m desperate too…”
In a daze, he walked back to his bedroom. Already a night owl, the stimulation only made it harder for him to fall asleep. He managed a blurry two-hour nap just before dawn, and with dark circles under his eyes, he stumbled downstairs for breakfast.
Huo Mingjun was shocked by his disheveled appearance. He came over, cupping Xie Guan’s face, and examined him closely. “What’s wrong? Didn’t sleep well, or are you feeling uncomfortable from drinking too much?”
Xie Guan was filled with thoughts, and seeing Huo Mingjun made him want to sigh. Suddenly touched by Huo Mingjun, he reacted excessively, subconsciously stepping back and widening the distance between them.
Huo Mingjun’s hand froze in midair.
Xie Guan clearly saw a trace of astonishment and disbelief flash in his eyes. It was as if this calm expression was cut open by a small, bleeding wound.
Xie Guan’s heart skipped a beat, feeling like he got pricked by an invisible needle.
Without thinking, he grabbed Huo Mingjun’s hand. He sensed that he used up all the cleverness he had in his lifetime. “Don’t touch, I haven’t washed my face yet…”
Godddddd 🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻I just can’t get enough of them🤌🤌🤌🤌
So the realization just hit him.
Thank you for the update!
Thanks for the update!
💖💐💖💐💖