YJDNY - 54

Zhou Xingyan didn’t seem particularly tipsy. His complexion hadn’t changed, nor had his expression shifted much—except for the foggy haze in his eyes and the slight redness at the corners.

He looked oddly alluring.

When she didn’t respond, he frowned slightly, swayed a bit, and the hand holding the phone wobbled along with him.

Seeing how unsteady he appeared on camera, Xiang Ge straightened up, her brows furrowing, her voice tinged with urgency. “How much did you drink?”

Zhou Xingyan tilted his head, leaning against the wall as he gazed at her. “You’ve changed.”

Xiang Ge: “….”

“You weren’t like this when you were chasing me,” he said calmly, his voice soft and coiling, his words slightly slurred as if pouting. “Now, even when I come to see you, you don’t want to.”

“….”

Xiang Ge choked slightly. “You’re already so busy with work, and you’re exhausted.”

Zhou Xingyan hummed in acknowledgment, speaking slowly. “Are you making excuses now?”

Xiang Ge sighed in frustration. “Who are you out with? Liang Shengxi? Let him take the phone.”

Zhou Xingyan lowered his lashes, then raised them again. “While talking to me, you’re already looking for other men,” he murmured, closing his eyes briefly before letting out a low chuckle. “Fickle-hearted.”

Xiang Ge: “…………”

This person was clearly already muddled.

Xiang Ge sighed and leaned back against the headboard. “I’m going to hang up the video now.”

Zhou Xingyan pursed his lips and fell silent.

Xiang Ge tilted her head, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. “Unless you hand the phone over to Liang Shengxi right now and let him take you home.”

Zhou Xingyan hesitated, blinking slowly. “Then say it once—say you miss me.”

Perhaps it was the lighting, but the video clarity wasn’t great, giving everything a slightly blurry appearance. He seemed enveloped in a soft, fuzzy halo, resembling a large, fluffy dog or a plump, velvety feline.

Xiang Ge thought she might never see Zhou Xingyan like this again.

Unable to help herself, she smiled softly, her voice gentle. “I love you. Be good, okay?”

Zhou Xingyan froze as if someone had flipped a switch, staring at her motionlessly.

Xiang Ge tilted her chin upward. “Go ahead.”

Suddenly, he raised his free hand, covering his right eye socket with it, lowering his head and remaining still for a long moment.

Thinking he might feel unwell, Xiang Ge quickly asked, “What’s wrong? Do you feel nauseous? You should go to the restroom—it’ll make you feel better.”

“Xiang Ge,” Zhou Xingyan rasped, his voice low and soft, almost a whisper. “You just want to kill me.”

Xiang Ge paused.

On his end, the phone seemed to have dropped, and the camera lens blurred. Then it rose again, followed by the sound of Liang Shengxi’s voice.

Half of Liang Shengxi’s face appeared on the screen. The moment his gaze swept over the screen, Zhou Xingyan abruptly ended the call.

Xiang Ge was stunned, unable to even exchange farewells or give any parting advice.

What was wrong with this guy?

Xiang Ge ran her fingers through her half-dried hair, flipped over to get off the bed, and lowered her head.

She had just finished showering and was only wrapped in a bathrobe. After lounging on the bed for a while, the neckline had loosened slightly, exposing a bit more skin from her collarbone downward.

Xiang Ge let out a soft “Ah,” suddenly realizing that Zhou Xingyan wasn’t completely wasted.

With Liang Shengxi around, Xiang Ge felt much more at ease. She dried her hair, changed into pajamas, went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water, and then climbed back onto the bed. She dialed Zhou Xingyan again.

This time, Liang Shengxi answered. The background noise had quieted down, with faint sounds of car horns in the distance.

Liang Shengxi sounded quite sober, greeting her cheerfully as “Sister-in-law.”

Xiang Ge responded confidently, “How much did he drink today?”

Liang Shengxi chuckled happily. “Back in university, Ah Yan was undoubtedly the leader of our dorm—the ‘one-cup-down’ boss.”

Xiang Ge hadn’t forgotten how Liang Shengxi turned red after just a few cups of sake, raising an eyebrow. “You two are quite the pair. You’re the ‘two-cup-down’ guy.”

Liang Shengxi exclaimed, “Sister Xiang Ge, you’re not playing nice here.”

Xiang Ge laughed, licking the corner of her lips. “You seem pretty sober today.”

“If this punk is like this, how could I dare touch a drop of alcohol? I need to drive!” Liang Shengxi assured her. “Don’t worry—I’ll make sure he gets home safely.”

Xiang Ge acknowledged this and gave a couple more reminders before Liang Shengxi hung up.

Early the next morning, Xiang Ge had just gotten up when Zhou Xingyan called.

She picked up the phone while climbing out of bed. On his end, there was silence for a while—he didn’t speak.

Xiang Ge prompted him with a soft “Hello.”

Still, he said nothing.

Xiang Ge started laughing, supporting herself with one hand on the edge of the bed, tilting her head until she collapsed onto the foot of the bed, giggling uncontrollably.

Finally, Zhou Xingyan reacted, letting out a low hiss. “What’s so funny?”

Xiang Ge cleared her throat, stopping her laughter. “You got drunk last night.”

Zhou Xingyan blandly replied, “Oh.” Then added, “I don’t remember.”

Xiang Ge thought for a moment. “You said you’re sorry, that your ex-girlfriend from college came back and wants to reconcile with you.” She paused. “Do you not remember?”

Zhou Xingyan fell silent.

After a long while, he finally spoke slowly. “Did I really tell you that?”

“…”

Xiang Ge: “???!!!”

Xiang Ge was momentarily stunned.

Zhou Xingyan suppressed a laugh, deliberately lowering his voice. It sounded restrained, almost strained. “Since you already know, what do you think I should do?”

“…”

“Zhou Xingyan,” Xiang Ge ground her teeth together, “go eat poop.”

A week later, Su Yining wrapped up all her scenes. Before leaving, she pulled Xiang Ge aside for a five-minute chat, mostly complaining about her son. In the end, she reluctantly urged Xiang Ge to visit their home with Zhou Xingyan when she had time.

That evening, she video-called Zhou Xingyan. It was already past six, and he still looked like he hadn’t finished work, wearing his white coat. The background showed a hospital office.

Assuming he was on duty that day, Xiang Ge didn’t think much of it. Her tone and expression were melancholic as she spoke. “Xingyan, my period hasn’t come for two months.”

Zhou Xingyan paused.

Xiang Ge sat on the carpet, her chin resting on a sofa cushion, gazing mournfully at the ceiling. “I’m feeling awful right now. When I get back, I’ll make sure to drink the medicine you gave me properly.”

Before Zhou Xingyan could respond, Liang Shengxi’s furious voice erupted from the side. “Zhou Xingyan! Are you a damn beast?!!”

Zhou Xingyan: “….”

Xiang Ge: “….”

Zhou Xingyan rubbed his temple, his voice filled with exasperation. “It’s not what you think.”

“It’s exactly what I think! How dare you give her medicine?! What’s wrong with my little fairy sister? Are you even human?!! I must’ve been blind to misjudge you!”

“…”

Xiang Ge: “?”

Zhou Xingyan leaned back into his chair, exasperated, looking at the person on the video. “What should I say?”

Liang Shengxi: “Say nothing! I don’t want to hear a word from you!”

Xiang Ge snapped out of it, opened her mouth, closed it again, and let out a long “Ah” before bursting into laughter.

Zhou Xingyan: “?”

Xiang Ge laughed so hard tears nearly spilled, propping herself up to sit back on the sofa. “Why didn’t you wear headphones while taking the video call at the hospital?”

On Liang Shengxi’s end, he continued cursing while crumpling paper balls and throwing them at Zhou Xingyan. Zhou Xingyan caught them, tossing them into the trash bin, all while conversing with Xiang Ge. “I didn’t have time to put them on—you started talking as soon as I picked up.”

Xiang Ge chuckled, licking the corner of her lips, about to speak when half of Liang Shengxi’s face popped into the frame. His expression was solemn, his tone somber. “Sister, don’t worry. Your big brother will handle this matter for you.”

“…”

Zhou Xingyan couldn’t take it anymore, turning his head slightly and narrowing his eyes. “Who’s your sister?”

Liang Shengxi retorted, “My little fairy sister! Don’t tell me she’s your sister too? Can you show some respect to your brother-in-law, Dr. Zhou?”

Zhou Xingyan muted the video temporarily, propping his chin with one hand, his fingertips brushing his lips. Out of nowhere, he muttered, “Yeah.”

Liang Shengxi didn’t understand. “What?”

“She’s my sister, not just my sister but also my girlfriend, and in the future, my wife,” he glanced at him. “Seems like none of this has anything to do with you.”

“…”

Liang Shengxi’s expression turned blank. “You’re shameless. Does your sister, girlfriend, or future wife even know?”

“No,” Zhou Xingyan said flatly. “I muted it.”

Liang Shengxi: “….”

The Shadow Empress had wrapped up her scenes and left the set, and coincidentally, the Shadow Emperor arrived.

Xiang Ge had met Jiang Xu several times before. She vividly remembered how, during her university days, when a friend named Wen Siyu brought her boyfriend to treat them to dinner, her internal reaction could be summed up as “applause for a social climber.”

The idol she had adored for over a decade eventually becoming her husband was already an almost impossible feat, worthy of being recorded in the family history.

Jiang Xu, the virtuous and talented Shadow Emperor, was quite different on set compared to his demeanor at the dining table. Every move exuded the aura of a mature thirty-year-old man. During intense acting scenes, his presence was like an insurmountable Mount Everest. But when alone, he would lazily slump into a chair, making phone calls, radiating the vibe of a devoted husband.

Xiang Ge sat beside him, resting her chin on her hand as she watched. Suddenly, she felt a pang of realization—without comparison, there’s no harm. Looking at this, it seemed that her relationship with Zhou Xingyan wasn’t truly a romance.

Two people who seemed emotionally frigid were engaged in a lukewarm long-distance video romance. Neither was overly clingy; they contacted each other when free and focused on their own tasks otherwise.

Moreover, Zhou Xingyan’s side was far from peaceful. Just as one Lin Ran issue was resolved, rumors of an ex-girlfriend and various other complications surfaced.

There was also a high school radio station beauty who had taken her phone number and could appear anytime.

Xiang Ge’s gaze grew distant, and she let out an irritated breath, smirking bitterly. She stepped outside and called Zhou Xingyan.

It happened to be lunch break, and Zhou Xingyan was about to eat. As soon as he picked up, Xiang Ge said gently, “Xingyan, I’ll sing you a song.”

Zhou Xingyan suddenly recalled the time in high school when she stood on the flag-raising platform reciting love poems to him. His heart softened, and he couldn’t help but curve his lips slightly, responding softly, “What song?”

Xiang Ge’s expression remained blank, her voice flat, almost reciting lyrics: “Just captured a few demons, subdued a few ghosts, specters and fiends—why are there so many?”

Zhou Xingyan: “….”