Be Passionately In Love

The supermarket's television was broadcasting typhoon warnings. Qingyi was a typical Jiangnan region, where every June, July, and August, people were busy preparing for typhoons and floods. After finishing his shopping, Chen Luzhou walked out, watching as workers dismantled billboards and removed potted plants from balconies along the way... It was late at night, and the darkness spread unchecked. The moonlight, like a faint wash of color, cast its last glow over the desolate streets. The heavy rain was easing, neon lights blurred the outlines of buildings, and the sidewalks were littered with fallen branches and withered leaves, a scene of utter bleakness.

Chen Luzhou walked leisurely, a bottle of alcohol in one hand and the other tucked into his pocket, the crisp sound of crushed leaves beneath his feet echoing in the quiet night.

Since the peak of summer hadn’t arrived yet, the night was quite chilly. After walking for a while, a thin layer of goosebumps rose on his arms.

Truth be told, he was a rather dull person—seemingly carefree but never stepping out of line. He feared worrying his adoptive parents, feared disappointing their expectations, and most of all, feared they might see no value in him. Even his biological parents had abandoned him without a second thought, let alone adoptive parents with no blood ties. No one could give him that sense of security.

So he dared not cross boundaries. He strived to do everything to the best of his ability—that was his worth. He took up photography because Ms. Lian Hui loved taking photos and often complained about the incompetence of the studio’s photographers. He watched movies and played with drones because Chen Jishen enjoyed them. At home, no one else would discuss with him why Frank was better suited as a screenwriter or how those eerie aerial shots were achieved.

He wasn’t romantic—it was just that living under someone else’s roof made him acutely aware of others’ moods. Though his adoptive parents treated him well, it could never compare to the bond of blood. They wanted him to do well, yet feared he might outshine Chen Xingqi, taking everything that rightfully belonged to him. So they planned to send him abroad—to a mediocre university where money could buy admission, to study an unremarkable major, grinding down all his edges and ambitions before bringing him back to obediently accept their arrangements from then on.

He should have known long ago—there were no free lunches in this world, only sugar-coated bullets.

At this hour, there were no buses. Chen Luzhou sat at the bus stop for a while, the bottle of alcohol in hand. Nearby knelt a disabled man, his stunted lower limbs exposed on the ground, a piece of paper and a QR code beside him—his father was suffering from leukemia and urgently needed treatment. With a sigh, Chen Luzhou took out his phone and scanned the code, transferring fifty yuan. Well, at least he had all his limbs, decent looks, a sharp mind, an understanding of life’s geometry, and still had time to appreciate the beauty of spring flowers and autumn moons.

"Thank you," the kneeling young man said upon hearing the WeChat notification.

Chen Luzhou gave a faint "Mhm." He didn’t need to say "You’re welcome"—theirs was a relationship of charity, and gratitude was expected.

When he left, he hailed a Didi. As he got into the car, he noticed the young man still kneeling rigidly, his gaze never lifting from the ground. Closing the car door, he wondered—what kind of world was this, really?

A gladiator’s arena for the brave, or an exchange of sincerity between hearts?On the way, after chatting with the driver for a while, Chen Luzhou fell silent. The driver probably found him quite interesting and kept rambling on about his own get-rich-quick stories. "I just drive for Didi at night. During the day, I work at a real estate company. My wife is pregnant, so I want to earn some extra money. You might still be young, but once you get married, you'll understand—especially when you have kids. Money is needed everywhere. Nowadays, everyone's a slashie. I have colleagues who do micro-businesses on the side, and there's a girl in our department who writes public articles at night for extra income. Some even shoot short videos or do live streams at the office. Honestly, if you really want to make money, there's no shortage of ways. Just in the neighborhood next to ours, there's a kid who just graduated from college and has already bought two properties—both paid in full."

Having financial acumen is quite impressive. Lost in thought, Chen Luzhou scrolled through his WeChat Moments and saw that Xu Zhi had posted that photo with his name credited below. He casually clicked into her Moments feed.

It seemed Xu Zhi had added him to a specific group—her posts used to be fully visible before.

……

Xu Zhi: "Checked my cousin's Chinese test paper. For the question on Lin Daiyu's cause of death, he wrote: 'The autopsy report shows she died from a fall.' When I asked how he knew, he said, 'Because Lin Daiyu fell from the sky like a sister from heaven...' I can't tutor him anymore."

Xu Zhi: "Got scolded by Old Xu. That cousin came to me again for homework help, and I refused. I said, 'No way, tutoring you makes me go bald. Ask your dad.' The cousin replied, 'No, Dad says after helping me with homework, he's so mentally drained at work he might lose his job.' I said, 'Jobs are easy to find, but baldness is hard to cure.' This idiot actually used that line against his dad..."

Xu Zhi: "On the first day of being eighteen, I wanted to give Old Xu a gift to thank him for bringing me into this world. Old Xu said no need—'On your first day as an adult, I’ll give you a gift too.' Then he pulled out a drawing, a sketch I doodled as a kid. I was touched he’d kept it all these years. But then he said, 'First, congratulations on adulthood. Welcome to the world of grown-ups. Eighteen means you’re no longer protected by the Juvenile Protection Law—you now have full legal capacity.' I asked what came next. He said, 'Does this paper look familiar? It’s an authentic piece by a certain master. Do you know how much his calligraphy is worth now? You scribbled all over it as a kid, and now I can claim compensation. Time to start working, kid.'"

Xu Zhi: "A question: If I put leeches inside my body, will I turn into a vampire—"

Chen Luzhou put down his phone, chuckling as he looked out the car window. He never expected Xu Zhi’s Moments to have this kind of vibe.

**

The typhoon was indeed approaching. When Chen Luzhou got out of the car, he could feel the wind picking up. Maybe because of the dense trees in the mountains, the howling gusts roared through the forest with a force that felt like it could uproot everything. As soon as he stepped through the resort gates, the noise was left behind.

Back in his room, Chen Luzhou sat for a while, then opened his laptop to start editing Fu Yuqing’s footage. Just then, Zhu Yangqi called. He must have lost badly—his voice sounded muffled, as if his mouth was covered in sticky notes, and the background noise flapped like a sailboat setting off. "You’re not coming over?"Chen Luzhou thought to himself, why should I go? They didn’t even invite me.

“Yeah,” Chen Luzhou instinctively glanced at the wine on the table. “Editing footage.”

Zhu Yangqi still wanted to call him over to dominate the game and teach those two female demons a lesson. So he shoved the phone back into Xu Zhi’s hands without much thought. “You talk to him. His princess syndrome is acting up again.”

Xu Zhi’s face was relatively clean, with only two sticky notes on her forehead—courtesy of Cai Yingying’s mischief. She took the phone, studying her cards seriously, and said, “Zhu Yangqi says your princess syndrome is flaring up and asks if we need an eight-man sedan chair to carry you over.”

Chen Luzhou clicked open a folder on his desktop, exporting the half-edited tea mountain footage. He scoffed, lazily leaning back in his chair as he shamelessly tapped his mouse. “Sure, carry me over then.”

Xu Zhi hesitated. “Let me think about where to find a sedan chair.”

Chen Luzhou chuckled. “Room number?”

Xu Zhi gave him the number.

Chen Luzhou hummed in acknowledgment. “Half an hour. I’ll finish editing this and stop by Boss Fu’s place before coming over.”

By the time he finished meeting with Boss Fu, Cai Yingying was already too sleepy to keep playing. Zhu Yangqi, however, was dead set on getting Chen Luzhou over to reclaim their dignity. Xu Zhi didn’t mind either way—she had nothing else to do, and it was still early. As Cai Yingying and Zhu Yangqi bickered about whether to continue, she sighed and picked up her phone to text Chen Luzhou, asking if he’d finished editing.

Xu Zhi: [Yingying’s tired. Are you still coming?]

Chen Luzhou was in Fu Yuqing’s tea room. Fu Yuqing had just finished roasting a new batch of tea and was still working on the packaging, planning to let him try it. He figured the kid knew a thing or two about tea, especially mulberry tea. “The flavor’s a bit like rice fragrance. Southerners tend to prefer it. This year’s rainfall was heavy, so the tea isn’t as good as previous years. That’s why I haven’t sold it—just gave some to relatives. Xu Zhi’s dad loves this kind of tea. He gifts it to his company’s leaders every year.”

Chen Luzhou sighed as he texted Xu Zhi back. Was Fu Yuqing an idiot? Was this the kind of thing you just casually mentioned? Who openly talks about gift-giving?

Cr: [At Boss Fu’s place. Do you still want to play?]

Xu Zhi: [Honestly? No. Zhu Yangqi’s hands are cursed. Winning against him is getting boring.]

Cr: [Bragging after taking advantage?]

Xu Zhi: [Did you buy the wine?]

Cr: [Yeah.]

Xu Zhi: [Then how about we meet at the bar downstairs? Without those two.]

Cr: [Sure.]

**

The bar didn’t allow outside drinks, and even though it was Fu Yuqing’s resort, they couldn’t just do whatever they wanted. So Chen Luzhou got two glasses from the bartender and asked Xu Zhi if she wanted to catch a movie. The entertainment complex had private screening rooms—couples’ rooms, to be exact. But they couldn’t show the latest theatrical releases, only films with available licenses, like a private cinema with legal rights.

The room was simple—just a double sofa and a large projection screen, nothing else. Honestly, Xu Zhi felt a little awkward, but seeing Chen Luzhou sitting there casually, texting someone, she relaxed. It was probably just about watching a movie.

Meanwhile, Chen Luzhou was replying to Zhu Yangqi’s message.

Cr: [I told you, it’s purely innocent. Just watching a movie.]Zhu Yangqi: [What movie are we watching?]

Cr: [Dunno, waiting for her to pick. Seems like it's all romance movies here.]

Indeed, apart from artsy romance films, there were only some steamy love stories playing. Probably because it was a couples' private screening room.

Zhu Yangqi: [You beast, you said you weren’t chasing her, but you totally are.]

Cr: [You think my game is that weak? Just inviting her to watch a free movie?]

Zhu Yangqi: [True. Even when chasing a stray dog, you’d buy extra burgers. No way you’d just treat a girl to a free movie, right?]

Cr: [Yeah, last time I threw three burgers at you, and you came running back.]

Zhu Yangqi: [Piss off. Listen, Chen Puppy, sometimes you just don’t get it. Let me teach you. If you like a girl, you gotta let her know a little. You don’t always have to wait for her to make the first move, or expect her to promise you anything, or even force things between you two. Sometimes, just knowing someone likes them can make girls really happy.]

Chen Luzhou didn’t reply. He locked his phone and tossed it aside, leaning back into the sofa, his neck resting against the cushion. This kind of thing depends on the mood , he thought. No one just confesses right off the bat. But tonight really did have the right atmosphere—booze, a private room, and those lingering, romantic love stories playing on screen.

His heart felt like it had been scratched by a kitten again, inexplicably tightening, even his Adam’s apple.

So he couldn’t help but swallow.

……

Xu Zhi didn’t know what Chen Luzhou wanted to watch, but the atmosphere was way too awkward. Plus, when a particularly steamy movie cover flashed by earlier, he had actually gulped. Nope, nope, this guy’s no good.

So she skipped all the romance films, leaving only a few comedies. She’d seen them all before, and they weren’t even that funny—plus, they had some steamy scenes too. Also no good.

“What do you want to watch?” Xu Zhi still made a token, polite effort to ask for his opinion.

They each occupied one end of the sofa, as if separated by a wide river, like two opposing sides of a battlefield. Both instinctively stayed close to their own ends, like disciplined soldiers guarding their territory. Chen Luzhou had one arm draped over the sofa’s armrest as he picked up his phone again. Without looking at her, he said casually, “Whatever.”

“Then I’ll just pick randomly.”

“Mm.”

So, with utmost seriousness, Xu Zhi stared at the screen and slowly clicked on the last remaining option—

"Legal Report: Top Ten Bizarre Criminal Cases of the Year"

Chen Luzhou: “……”