Be Passionately In Love

It wasn’t that Chen Luzhou had an inflated sense of self-worth—his experiences over the past decade had indeed been brilliant and impressive, and some reactions had become second nature to him. But he never expected that he would meet Xu Zhi at the least impressive moment of his life.

The bar was crowded tonight, with people sitting in small groups. The tables were adorned with colorful glasses and flickering candlelight, while bizarre beams of light scattered across every corner like clusters of vibrant flowers—red here, yellow there—luring urban men and women into the enigmatic dance of flirtatious banter.

Perhaps it was the atmosphere, but after hanging up the phone, Chen Luzou tossed the phone back to Xu Zhi, took a sip of his cocktail, propped his feet up, and slumped lazily in his seat. His gaze didn’t linger on her; instead, he lowered his head, pretending to examine the webbing between his fingers, though it was unclear what he was checking. He had initially wanted to ask, Why haven’t you been reaching out lately? But that felt a little too eager, so he pivoted instead. “What have you been up to?”

Xu Zhi sighed. It was a long story, so she kept it brief. “Watching dramas.”

“Which one?”

“ Praise Me , the one you recommended.”

Chen Luzhou chuckled, finally glancing at her with a smirk, his eyes brimming with amusement. “You actually watched it?”

Too eager to know the ending, Xu Zhi had searched for it that very night. But it turned out not to be about a massive insurance payout at all—it was a hundred-plus-episode sitcom. After scouring the internet, she found only this one Korean series. Assuming Chen Luzhou must have meant a particular episode, she started from the first and kept going. Before she knew it, she had binged the entire thing over two sleepless nights.

“So? Did it help you unwind?”

Chen Luzhou asked again with a grin. He was quite fond of this drama and revisited it every year, especially when he was in a bad mood. The director’s dry humor was executed naturally, though it remained niche. If others asked, he might not necessarily recommend it—because sharing favorite shows and music, unlike sharing food, felt like an exploration of someone’s inner world.

Xu Zhi nodded in deep agreement. She realized her taste had been somewhat swayed by Chen Luzhou. Before, she wouldn’t have touched sitcoms—too plotless and boring, she’d thought. But this director had woven depth into each episode, with small, interconnected stories and characters whose details were left for the audience to uncover.

“Got any similar recommendations?”

Xu Zhi was curious—just how much free time did this guy have? How many shows and movies had he watched to stumble upon something this obscure?

“Yeah, but I’ll tell you later.”

Can’t spill everything at once , Chen Luzhou thought.

Xu Zhi: “Fine. Then what’s the actual ending of that movie?”Chen Luzhou sighed and looked at her before slowly explaining, "The internet was flooded with stories about her 'checkered past.' Even a delivery guy came forward, claiming she wasn’t exactly pleasant and sometimes treated them rudely. Petty comments like these poured in like a flood, to the point where she herself began to doubt whether she was truly the kind of person they described. Having been sheltered too well by her family and husband since childhood, she had never confronted the darker side of human nature. In the end, torn between the grief of losing her husband and her own inner turmoil, she overdosed on sleeping pills. The director left it open-ended—just as she attempted suicide, the police closed the case, confirming her husband’s death was indeed accidental. Her parents rushed her to the hospital in time, and the film’s final shot lingered on her heart monitor, leaving her fate ambiguous."

As for the movie’s title, Chen Luzhou genuinely couldn’t remember. The film was heavy and not particularly enjoyable, typical of Korean cinema. He had randomly picked it out of boredom. If Xu Zhi hadn’t brought it up, he wouldn’t have even recalled the plot.

"Her resilience was that low?" Xu Zhi remarked.

"Well," Chen Luzhou casually tossed a peanut into his mouth and said quietly, "given the director’s setup, it’s understandable. She grew up sheltered by her parents, then met her husband—her first love—who continued to shield her from life’s harshness. You could say she sailed through life smoothly, surrounded by good people. But when tragedy struck—her husband died, her parents were too old to protect her, and those once-kind people turned against her—it’s no surprise she collapsed."

"Then tell me," Xu Zhi asked, "is it better for people to face hardships or not? Or maybe, it’s like there’s a wall inside each of us. I can’t quite define what that wall is—for some, it’s their parents; for others, their children, money, or power. Hypothetically, if that wall inside you crumbled, what would you do?"

Chen Luzhou thought to himself, I don’t just have a wall inside me—there’s an immovable southern wall right in front of me.

"I’ll need to think about that before answering you."

"Alright."

Xu Zhi still seemed lost in thought.

Chen Luzhou tilted his chin slightly and asked casually, "Your brother mentioned you’re leaving the mountain tomorrow?"

"Yeah, my dad’s pushing for it," Xu Zhi replied. "You’re staying a few more days, right? Reach out after you come down?" Why would I reach out to you?

Then it hit her—oh, right, her cousin.

"Yeah," he lowered his head, continuing to shell peanuts dispassionately before nodding faintly. "Depends. Might have to make a trip out of town, but I’ll sort out your cousin’s issue before I go."

Xu Zhi curiously asked, "Where to? Traveling?"

Why so nosy?

"What, wanna come with?" Chen Luzhou glanced up at her, half-teasing, his eyes gleaming with the provocative charm of youth, as if daring her to say yes.

Xu Zhi met his gaze unflinchingly. In that moment, people often said the young were reckless out of ignorance, but she felt Chen Luzhou was the kind of person who knew better yet remained fearless. So she answered, "Would you take me? If you would, then I’ll go."Hearing this, Chen Luzhou stared at her for a long while without answering yes or no. After a prolonged silence, he finally deflected with a question, "Why were you avoiding me the past few days?"

Xu Zhi quietly finished her cocktail before meeting his gaze. "I wasn't avoiding you."

Chen Luzhou: "Then why didn't you come to me directly about buying the camera?"

Xu Zhi sighed and cleared her throat. "Fine, I'll be blunt then. Don't get mad when you hear this."

Chen Luzhou gave an indifferent hum, tilting his chin slightly with cold eyes that said, Go ahead, let's hear it.

Amidst the chaotic bar music, Xu Zhi spoke slowly.

"Yingying said Zhu Yangqi might have feelings for me and told me to keep my distance from both of you. She said being friends is fine, but anything more wouldn't work. She thinks all the guys from your high school are the same, especially with Zhai Xiao as a cautionary tale. Now she's a bit... well, you know how she feels about guys from your school."

"Zhu Yangqi likes you?" Chen Luzhou was taken aback. "What did he do? Hit on you?"

"No, no," Xu Zhi quickly explained. "Actually, I think she's overreacting. She said Zhu Yangqi keeps liking all my social media posts and comments on almost every update. She also mentioned that whenever you invite me out for drinks, it's probably for Zhu Yangqi's sake. She probably doesn't even realize he's never around when we drink together. I just didn't want her to misunderstand, and with her recent breakup, I didn't dare reach out to you either."

Zhu Yangqi was a notorious simp—any remotely pretty girl who posted on social media would dutifully receive a like from him.

His golden rule: "When goddesses post, it's meant for simps like me. Not liking their posts would just be rude."

Chen Luzhou downed the rest of his cocktail sullenly. "Why didn't Cai Yingying say I like you instead?"

Xu Zhi was utterly unfazed. "Oh, don't worry about that. Yingying said she's got plenty of dating experience and has analyzed it thoroughly. She doesn't suspect you at all."

Are you two hunting down fugitives here?

Xu Zhi added, "Yingying said you're just like me—only care about making money. Especially since you even swindle your own brother, which gave her the wrong impression."

Mainly, Cai Yingying believed that someone as good-looking as Chen Luzhou must have girls flocking around him like clouds raising their sleeves. He was probably immune to beauty by now, unlike Zhu Yangqi, who'd jump at any pretty girl.

"So you still want to team up with me to make money, is that it?"

"Obviously? It's rare we share the same goal," Xu Zhi finally got to the point. "I've got a great idea. Want to hear it?"

Chen Luzhou, seated on the barstool, still towered slightly over her. Xu Zhi had tied her hair into a high ponytail today, with wispy strands framing her temples, accentuating her full forehead and flawless pores. She looked clean, sharp, and effortlessly pure. Chen Luzhou was surprised at himself—even in this dim lighting, he could still make out the faint teardrop mole at the corner of her eye. A tiny, light brown speck, flickering in and out of view under the candlelight like cinnabar, like heart's blood, like every elusive illusion that seemed just out of reach.

Perhaps because his heartbeat was racing too fast, his gaze grew even colder as he glanced at her indifferently. "Talk.""Have you heard of store reviews?" Xu Zhi explained slowly, "Back in my first year of high school, I was bored and registered an account on Golden House—you know, the biggest lifestyle sharing platform now. Occasionally, I’d post little snippets of daily life. A while ago, Yingying dyed her hair, and I recorded a tutorial. But there was a mishap—she wanted a blue-black shade, but it faded into green. That short video suddenly went viral, got a lot of views on the platform, and my follower count shot up. Then people started reaching out for ads. But since we’re still students, I didn’t dare take random sponsorships. I thought maybe we could just do store reviews—trendy spots, budget-friendly places, anything. We just need a photographer—"

Xu Zhi glanced at him tentatively.

"Go on, how much are you planning to pay me?"

Xu Zhi tossed the question back at him, "How much do you want?"

That depends on your conscience, Young Master Chen.

As soon as Xu Zhi got back, Cai Yingying, busy trimming her toenails, eagerly asked, "So? Did the handsome Chen agree?"

Xu Zhi slipped into her slippers and said, "He didn’t agree, but he didn’t refuse either. Said it depends on his schedule. So I’m planning to work around his time. He’s going to Linshi in a few days. What do you think about making our first review spot the trendy street in Linshi? The owner of one of the shops there actually messaged me."

"Sounds good," Cai Yingying nodded enthusiastically at first, then added with slight disapproval, "But we’re not bringing that creep Zhu Yangqi along."

Xu Zhi: "..."

**

After that, Xu Zhi didn’t hear from Chen Luzhou for days after coming down the mountain. It was as if that mountain was a signal blocker. For a while, Xu Zhi wondered if stepping off that mountain meant she was cut off from his world—no messages, no updates on WeChat Moments. Not that he posted often anyway—just the occasional share when he took a particularly good photo, like the pheasant from before.

His Moments feed had stopped at that pheasant photo. He hadn’t posted anything about the meteor shower that night—maybe he hadn’t gotten any shots he was satisfied with, or who knows. Either way, there’d been no updates since.

She had no idea what he’d been up to lately, why there was no word from him at all. Xu Zhi absentmindedly stared at the TV, where The Legend of Snow Goddess was playing—Old Xu’s favorite drama, which he rewatched every summer. Xu Zhi usually changed the channel when he wasn’t looking, but today, for some reason, the remote wasn’t working no matter how many times she pressed it.

Xu Guangji, witnessing the entire crime: "..."

"Xu Zhi, are you out of your mind?" Xu Guangji smacked a hand against her forehead. "Can’t you hear the beeping? That’s the air conditioner remote—you’ve messed up the vents!"

Xu Zhi: "...Oh, really?"

Xu Guangji wore a knowing look—fathers always know their daughters. "Something on your mind?"

Xu Zhi hesitated. "Not exactly. Just waiting for someone’s call."

"Chen Luzhou?"

Xu Zhi hummed in agreement, grabbing the TV remote from the table. She remembered to add, "Dad, I might go to Linshi in a few days.""With that Chen Luzhou?" Xu Guangji's voice rose slightly higher as his attention completely shifted from the TV to his daughter's slightly flushed face.

Xu Zhi intended to check the news—perhaps a typhoon had caused a landslide on the mountain, burying him—and answered absentmindedly, "Sort of. We plan to explore some shops together, but it's hard to explain to you. I'll tell you more once it's done."

Xu Guangji misheard.

—We plan to go to a hotel.

"Call the police! Call the police!" Xu Guangji's head spun as he frantically reached for his phone.

**

Chen Luzhou had no idea he had almost been sent to the police station by Xu Zhi, but he was no longer at the mountain resort anyway—he had left shortly after descending. Not long after Xu Zhi left, as the resort grew increasingly empty, Chen Xingqi started clamoring to leave. Fu Yuqing, seeing the significant impact of the typhoon this year, also urged them to head down early to avoid being stranded. If a landslide occurred, the area could be without water or power for ten days to half a month.

The reason he hadn't contacted Xu Zhi was because something rather awkward had recently happened to him.

On the day they descended, Zhu Yangqi invited a few friends to play basketball, and Chen Luzhou, itching for a game, joined them. Unexpectedly, they ran into Tan Xu at Yizhong High's basketball court—a bizarre coincidence, since the court was off-limits to outsiders. The school gym was closed for summer break, and the outdoor court required a student ID for entry. Moreover, Tan Xu had avoided Yizhong ever since transferring out, making the encounter all the more surprising.

"What's he doing here?" Zhu Yangqi was even more confused than Chen Luzhou.

"Not sure. Rumor has it he's planning to repeat his senior year here," a friend explained while dribbling. "Even though his grades haven't been released yet, his parents must have pulled some strings to get him back here for a repeat year."

It shouldn’t have concerned them. Chen Luzhou had just come out for a game before preparing his materials for an overseas interview. But because of Xu Zhi, he always felt somewhat uneasy around Tan Xu. He knew that while Tan Xu wasn’t her boyfriend, there had been some ambiguity between them—just never explicitly acknowledged.

He had once probed Cai Yingying for details.

Without Tan Xu’s help over the past two years, Xu Zhi wouldn’t have achieved her current grades. Tan Xu had even accompanied her to KFC every week to study, painstakingly correcting her mistakes. They had watched meteors together, and Xu Zhi had skipped breakfast for two weeks to save money so she could take him ice skating to help him relax.

So when a few of Tan Xu’s friends—repeat students who happened to know them—suggested playing together that day, Chen Luzhou leaned lazily against the basketball hoop and declined outright. "You guys play. I’m leaving."

But Zhu Yangqi, as if furious at his constant avoidance of Tan Xu, hurled the basketball violently at the backboard and shouted at him, "Chen Luzhou, if you fucking leave today, I swear I’ll cut ties with you!"

The ball slammed into the backboard with a deafening bang , the entire hoop rattling like a battered sheet of metal in the silent court.The basketball court was practically empty, just their classmates around. Everyone froze, baffled by what was going on between these two inseparable friends today. The ball bounced slowly to the ground, but no one paid it any attention or went to pick it up. They all just stared dumbfounded as the two stood in a tense face-off on the court.

Truth be told, it was only Zhu Yangqi who was throwing a tantrum. Chen Luzhou hadn’t even acknowledged him, hands stuffed in his pockets as he leaned against the basketball hoop, his expression cold and detached the entire time. Internally, he thought this guy was being ridiculously childish.

Later, no one could hear what they were saying. They only saw Zhu Yangqi walk over, and the two exchanged words privately.

"What’s the big deal about some ambiguous crush? What are you scared of? You’ve never been like this before. It’s painful to watch."

Chen Luzhou hooked an arm around Zhu Yangqi’s neck, pulling him close, and said earnestly into his ear, "My dear Brother Zhu, cut me some slack, will you? I’m not scared of him. It’s just that last time we played, I broke my foot. I’ve got psychological trauma, okay?"

"Bullshit. You just don’t want to face him head-on."

"Fine, that’s part of it," Chen Luzhou admitted openly. But in the end, he couldn’t resist Zhu Yangqi’s persistence or the encouragement from the onlookers. With a resigned sigh, he reluctantly stepped onto the court.

And so, here he was now—at the urology clinic.

The doctor in charge was a male urologist surnamed Xu. Chen Luzhou glanced at his name tag: Xu Guangji.

Not a bad name.

Xu Guangji hadn’t looked at his medical record yet. When a tall, handsome young man walked in, he listened to his symptoms first before asking for the record.

"Got injured playing basketball? Elbowed?"

Chen Luzhou wasn’t exactly embarrassed—after all, the doctor didn’t know who he was. He had pretty thick skin. But since it was his first time at a urology clinic, he couldn’t help but glance around curiously. "Yeah, got elbowed going for a rebound."

"Aside from the lack of morning erections, any other symptoms?" Xu Guangji asked routinely, flipping open the medical record to check the name.

—Chen Luzhou.

Xu Guangji immediately looked up at him. "You’re Chen Luzhou?"

Chen Luzhou had been about to say, "Watching porn doesn’t do anything for me either." But hearing Xu Guangji’s familiar tone of recognition, he thought, Damn, even here people know me? Instantly, his idol complex kicked in. He cleared his throat. "Morning erections are... okay. Just not as..."

Hard.