Be Passionately In Love

The twilight deepened, blending the sky and earth into one hue, that ambiguous moment between day and night where the chaotic neon lights blurred the city's outline.

After coaxing Ms. Lian Hui away, Chen Luzhou was called back to No. 1 High School by his friends for a basketball game. But barely two minutes in, someone flipped him off and chased him off the court. "Did you go thieving last night or what? If you're not in the mood, go play somewhere else. Even a dolphin would slap the ball harder than you."

He thought, Weren’t you the one begging me to come? But he couldn’t be bothered to stick around and annoy people. He lazily bumped shoulders with the guy who’d flipped him off, signaling he was done, then bent down to pick up his ball. "Later."

"Damn, you’re really leaving?" Chen Luzhou didn’t look back, just waved a hand. The guy dribbled the ball and turned to the others. "What’s up with him?"

"Gu Yan went to his rented place today and got caught red-handed by his mom."

"No way! Did they get caught in bed?"

"I asked him earlier, but he wouldn’t say anything. Just asked where Zhu Yangqi was."

"Well, Gu Yan’s a star, after all. She’s gonna be in the entertainment industry."

Zhu Yangqi was currently in the art studio, leaning by the window and chatting idly with some younger girls, boasting extravagantly: "Last year, I got six certificates. After the provincial exams, I just kept taking tests. By the time I got the last one, it was almost March or April. I only studied for the cultural exams for about two months, so it wasn’t ideal. But my sketch ranking was 81st in the province—"

Right then, his phone, clutched in his hand, erupted with a sudden flurry of WeChat notifications, ding-dong ding-dong ding-dong , one after another. Zhu Yangqi glanced down—messages from "cy." Of course, that was his note for Chen Luzhou, whose WeChat name was simply "Cr."

[Cr: Downstairs.]

[Cr: BBQ stall.]

[Cr: Waiting two minutes. Starving.]

When Zhu Yangqi went downstairs, Chen Luzhou was predictably lounging at the BBQ stall, watching a movie with earbuds in. Given the sheer volume of films he’d seen, he could probably be a movie blogger. He watched everything—no limits, no bottom line.

His father—technically his adoptive father—had run a video rental store in the early years. Later, a nationwide crackdown on pornography forced it to shut down. His adoptive father had no choice but to go into business, pulling a rickshaw at one point and even partnering in a cigarette factory. Eventually, he struck gold in Guangdong, returned home in glory, and rose swiftly in society. Now, he owned several local cinemas, though that was just one of his ventures. While other domineering CEO dads collected fine wines and cigars, Chen Luzhou’s dad preferred collecting out-of-print tapes. Some of those early films had content so extreme it was hard to imagine.

So, the first movie Chen Luzhou ever watched was actually a Category III film.

The BBQ stall was crowded. A half-finished iced latte sat in front of him, and his long legs had nowhere to go under the table, so they sprawled awkwardly to the sides. One earbud dangled around his neck because a guy nearby had struck up a conversation, asking if the basketball at his feet was last year’s championship limited edition and whether the signature was real.

Chen Luzhou glanced up from his phone. "Whose signature do you think it looks like?"

"Curry? Green?"

Chen Luzhou dragged the movie’s progress bar back a few minutes, leaned back in his chair, and laughed. "What kind of logic is that, bro? Would Curry or Green sign in Chinese? At least you can tell it’s three characters, right?"Zhu Yangqi suddenly remembered that it was with this very basketball that Chen Luzhou had tricked his arrogant, non-blood-related younger brother into following him around all day, sweetly calling him "brother." When the kid found out the truth, he didn't speak to him for a whole month. The bastard actually thought he was innocent, leaning against the kid's door and knocking without a hint of remorse, "I never said it was signed by Curry, Green, Yao Ming, or Yi Jianlian."

The kid burst into furious tears, "Who the hell writes their own name a dozen times on their basketball?! Narcissist!"

...

Clearly, the guy was regretting why he had even struck up a conversation. What kind of person signs their own name on a limited-edition championship basketball?

When Zhu Yangqi arrived, Chen Luzhou didn't even look up, his ears sharper than a dog's. "Done with your painting?"

Ignoring the teasing, Zhu Yangqi glanced around the packed barbecue stall with a resentful look. Even the seat across from Chen Luzhou was taken. He scanned the girl's face—utterly unfamiliar, fresher than Guangdong lettuce. "Where am I supposed to sit?"

This was Yifeng Alley's famous solo barbecue spot, where sharing tables was the norm. The girl, seeing Zhu Yangqi's "rightful queen" expression, was about to offer her seat—

Chen Luzhou lounged lazily, still engrossed in his movie, not even lifting an eyelid. "I never said I was treating you."

Zhu Yangqi: "Then why the hell did you spam me on WeChat like your life depended on it? I thought you were starving to death!"

Chen Luzhou didn't eat much, but he couldn't stand hunger. When hungry, he turned downright ruthless, capable of anything. Zhu Yangqi, already feeling guilty, didn't dare keep him waiting after work.

**

Palm Lane was part of Jiangnan's old quarters, a maze of winding alleys lined with rows of intricately carved, low-rise buildings.

Cai Yingying set up her tripod and camera, changed into an oversized black women's suit borrowed from who-knows-where, then solemnly drew the curtains. The fortified room plunged into darkness, sinking into an eerie silence. Outside, the air conditioner leaked, its rhythmic drip-drip tapping against the awning below.

Xu Zhi sat cross-legged on the carpet, scrolling idly through her phone before glancing up. "It's just a hair-dyeing tutorial. Why are you acting like you're recording your last will?"

"Can't be too careful," Cai Yingying said nervously, adjusting the camera. "When my dad gets home tonight, this might be the last video of the beautiful Cai Yingying."

Xu Zhi gave her a deadpan look. "Couldn't you pick a color that lets you live?"

Once the camera was ready, Cai Yingying retreated to the sofa, donned gloves with the resolve of a martyr, and cradled a small bowl, dumping in dye and developer. "Zhai Xiao said this is the hottest color at their school this year."

"Did Zhai Xiao also tell you to fix the air conditioner?" Xu Zhi knew she was obsessed with him and flipped through her color chart. "Otherwise, you won't need your dad to kill you—you'll beat him to it."

"Xu Zhi!" Cai Yingying shot her an exaggerated glare. "Zhai Xiao has never even been to my house, okay?"

Xu Zhi raised an equally exaggerated brow. "Wow, you're so impressive."Cai Yingying ignored her and continued, "Zhai Xiao told me that several top students from No. 1 High School didn't do well this time. They came out of the exam hall and immediately started packing to retake the exams next year. Even—" she leaned in mysteriously and whispered in Xu Zhi's ear, "even 'so-and-so' missed one subject."

"So-and-so" was Zhai Xiao and Cai Yingying's special nickname for someone from No. 1 High School. Actually, Xu Zhi didn't even know who they were referring to—maybe even Cai Yingying didn't know that person's name. Zhai Xiao never mentioned it and refused to show Cai Yingying any photos, saying he was just a troublemaker who got by on his looks. But his grades had always been first or second in the experimental class at No. 1 High School.

If nothing unexpected happened, the top scorer in Qingyi City's college entrance exams would either be him or another top student. But Zhai Xiao had complicated feelings about him—he idolized him but also resented him. After all, No. 1 High School was full of exceptional talents, and that guy rarely did anything decent. His mouth was so glib and persuasive that he could probably talk a zombie into taking a few steps.

Xu Zhi was currently lying on the sofa, browsing Qing University's past admission scores, and responded with a disinterested "Oh."

"Do you know how ridiculously handsome 'so-and-so' is?" Cai Yingying said as she draped a disposable cape over herself. "And he's super romantic too. During their school's centennial celebration, he made a short video with drones in the name of his class. It was amazingly shot—the cinematography was next-level. Now it's become their school's promotional video and even trended online."

"Impressive," Xu Zhi replied half-heartedly. "But have you actually seen him?"

"Well, no. To this day, I still don't know who this 'so-and-so' is. Zhai Xiao once sent me a photo—just a blurry silhouette, but it had this incredible vibe."

Xu Zhi was skeptical. After all, Cai Yingying had a knack for exaggeration—she could spin a story better than the cafeteria ladies could stir-fry. "Alright, stop embellishing. The juniors won't have anything left to eat if you keep this up."

"Fine, don't believe me," Cai Yingying said, parting her hair into sections before abruptly changing the subject. "By the way, you mentioned earlier that you ran into a woman this afternoon who sounded exactly like your mom?"

Xu Zhi finally put down her phone. "Yeah. Do you think it's possible for two people's voices to be that similar?"

Not just that—her mannerisms and catchphrases were identical to Lin Qiudie's too.

"Where did you see her?"

Strange. That cold, sharp, and annoyingly smug voice echoed in Xu Zhi's mind again.

—"Must be tiring to stand there listening to someone get scolded."

—"Didn’t you see how she was staring at me just now?"

...

Xu Zhi absentmindedly scrolled through her phone. "Outside Tan Xu's rented place."

"You went to see him?" Cai Yingying fumed, exasperated. "And you still claim you don’t like him? I think you’ve just been gaslighted by him."

"I went to get my mom’s necklace, okay? Last time you dragged us out to see the meteor shower, he didn’t care about the meteors—he took a liking to my necklace. He thought the four-leaf clover was lucky, so he took it to the exam hall."

The more Xu Zhi thought about it, the more she realized she and Tan Xu could only ever be friends. Even though they never officially defined their relationship, Tan Xu acted like she had to follow his lead.

Cai Yingying had heard bits and pieces about Lin Qiudie since childhood. In all the exaggerated rumors, Ms. Lin Qiudie was practically a symbol of misfortune—anything related to her was best avoided, and it was better to keep minimal contact with Xu Zhi’s family. Otherwise, Old Xu wouldn’t have developed severe social anxiety over the years.At the end of Yifeng Alley, there was a small shop called "8090" with a dusty pool table inside. Hardly anyone played there—students from the senior high review building barely had time to buy a bottle of water, let alone shoot a game of pool.

The two of them dawdled through a few rounds. Chen Luzhou remained silent the whole time, not particularly focused either. Most of the time, he just leaned against the pool table, alternating between losing and winning while endlessly bickering with Zhu Yangqi. The entire time, he tortured Zhu Yangqi with a look that seemed to say, "Don’t you have anything to say to me?"

He knew exactly how to torment someone.

Damn.

"Clack—"

An increasingly uneasy Zhu Yangqi once again pocketed the cue ball. Chen Luzhou, visibly uninterested, leaned against the table and jerked his chin, signaling him to fish it out—still refusing to speak.

Zhu Yangqi retrieved the ball and obsequiously set it up in the easiest position, deciding to confess: "Gu Yan’s been cornering me. She said people online are digging into her and wanted your help, or she’d never make it as an actress. But you kept refusing her friend requests on WeChat. I panicked and gave her your address."

Young Master Chen wasn’t having it. He repositioned the ball on the break line, bent down to aim, and said flatly, "Hmm. Did it ever occur to you that because of her, I might never find a girlfriend?"

"Is it really that bad?" Zhu Yangqi froze, then belatedly realized, "So that exposed alt account online really was hers? The love diary was all fake? Or did you actually say you only like big-chested, brainless, and wet girls?"

Chen Luzhou shot him a glance, smirked coldly, and grabbed the chalk from the table. "Have you ever seen me say a single word to her when I come to your class?"

Zhu Yangqi had lost all interest in the game. He pulled out his phone and scrolled, only to find all posts about the love diary completely wiped. Gu Yan’s alt account had been deleted, and searching Chen Luzhou’s name on social media yielded nothing. Just a while ago, there had been a particularly infuriating related search term: Chen Luzhou, Gu Yan’s boyfriend, says Gu Yan is wet and slutty.

"So she lied about dating you?"

No way. Did Gu Yan fantasize about Chen Luzhou? Zhu Yangqi felt his goddess-worshiping bubble burst. Gu Yan always seemed like such an aloof beauty.

Stammering, Zhu Yangqi asked, "Then… what did she say to you?"

What else could she say? If Gu Yan hadn’t recklessly shown up at his door, Chen Luzhou wouldn’t even have known what was happening. He’d been in the middle of a shower when the knocking started. Thinking it was his coffee delivery, he’d hastily pulled on a pair of pants—no time for underwear—and opened the door to find Gu Yan standing there. She’d been on the trending list multiple times, the most famous art student at their school, with more buzz than some D-list celebrities. Claiming he didn’t recognize her would’ve been a lie, especially since she was Zhu Yangqi’s classmate.

But fresh out of the shower, his brain was slow to react. Before he could say anything, Gu Yan burst into tears—delicate, pitiful sobs. Forced into damage control, Chen Luzhou pulled out his phone to check his own scandal. After reading, he tossed the phone onto the coffee table and asked Gu Yan what she wanted. Still weeping, she asked if he’d be her boyfriend. Chen Luzhou outright refused. She seemed stunned by the rejection and pressed further: Why? Do you like someone else? Chen Luzhou was even more speechless. His hair was still wet, a black towel draped over his neck as he slumped lazily onto the sofa. He casually turned on the TV to a sports channel, not even glancing at her, and said bluntly, "I’m just not into you."

The guy had always been terrifyingly straightforward.

Gu Yan was probably stunned by the rejection and started rambling incoherently—about how she woke up at five in the morning to practice for her acting career, how every joint in her body was injured, how she was a dreamer, how her teachers all believed in her potential to win awards for the country. Chen Luzhou was sharp; even from her disjointed monologue, he grasped her underlying plea— Could you just stay silent and not expose me online?

The basketball game on TV was intense, quickly stealing most of his attention. He barely registered anything Gu Yan said after that, only tossing out a flippant, "Depends on my mood."

He probably couldn’t be bothered to deal with this mess. But having such a ridiculous accusation thrown at him definitely put him in a foul mood.

...

"None of your damn business. Since you sold me out, cut the fake concern."

Zhu Yangqi gritted his teeth, knowing Chen Luzhou had barely slept after last night’s stint at the police station and today’s harassment from Gu Yan. He was undoubtedly seething. Leaning down, Zhu Yangqi asked bluntly, "Still playing? If not, I’m ending this game."

"Make the shot first, then talk."

With a thud , the cue ball shot straight across the table—no holding back this time.

It was a corner shot. Instead of going for the straightforward middle pocket, he aimed for a tricky angle.

Chen Luzhou applauded without restraint.

Zhu Yangqi wasn’t buying it, mostly out of embarrassment. "Piss off, stop mocking me. You’re the king of playing dumb and then wiping the floor with people! Did you know some folks are saying you skipped the exam for Gu Yan? Calling you a lovesick fool."

Chen Luzhou headed to the counter, shooting him a dry glance. "And you still sold me out?"

Zhu Yangqi scurried after him, playing innocent. "When I heard about it, I thought you two were actually dating and just fighting! I even said you kept it airtight—didn’t even tell me."

Chen Luzhou pulled two sodas from the fridge, tossing one to Zhu Yangqi, amused and exasperated. "I wrote love letters in elementary school. You really think I’d hide it if I were dating someone?" As Zhu Yangqi stood there dumbfounded, the bastard was already at the register, dramatically scanning the QR code while sighing theatrically. "Zhu Yangqi, oh Zhu Yangqi… Big bro’s so disappointed in you."

Zhu Yangqi fumbled with the soda, pressing it to his chest before slowly processing. "So… you really overslept because your precious little brother accidentally slipped two sleeping pills into your milk the night before?"

"Yep."

...

It wasn’t something easy to explain. After all, the little brother was their parents’ biological child—Chen Luzhou was literally picked out of a trash can. His mom would never let him admit that to outsiders.

Zhu Yangqi felt like Chen Luzhou had seriously hit a streak of bad luck lately. The god of misfortune hadn’t just latched onto him—it had built a mansion on his back. If missing the Self-selected module exam was karma for bullying his brother too much, then the Gu Yan situation was pure, undeserved disaster."But given your relationship with your precious little brother, are you sure it was an accident?"

Zhu Yangqi was skeptical.

"That's a bold angle," Chen Luzhou said lazily, leaning against the convenience store's icebox as he sipped his cola. "But we can’t wrong him on this. He knew I’ve always had trouble sleeping. Seeing how exhausted I was from studying during the college entrance exams, he genuinely meant well—grabbed two of his mom’s sleeping pills to help me get a good night’s rest. He had no idea we still had the Self-selected module exam on the third morning. Thought it was all over after two days."

"Kid’s still green behind the ears. Must really see you as his own brother," Zhu Yangqi mused.

Chen Luzhou chuckled, self-aware. "Yeah, right. He’d sooner call you his real brother than me."

The convenience store had a nostalgic charm—yellowed Maggie Cheung posters by the door, a pool table and claw machines inside, snacks like Weilong spicy strips and Lonely God, even the cola came in old-fashioned glass bottles. Zhu Yangqi pried his open with his teeth and said, "My mom’s pregnant again. All I’m hoping for is a little sister—maybe then I’ll finally hear you call me ‘big bro.’"

Chen Luzhou was already leaning against the claw machine by the convenience store entrance, arms crossed, bantering with the familiar turtle-selling uncle next door. The old man was trying to persuade him to buy a resilient turtle to raise. With a cheeky grin, Chen Luzhou retorted, "Oh? What makes it resilient? Was this the turtle from the tortoise and hare race?" The uncle immediately picked up a palm-leaf fan from the ground and swatted at him. Laughing, Chen Luzhou dodged, and in the midst of it, he heard Zhu Yangqi's words and inexplicably turned to glance at him.

Chen Luzhou: ?

Zhu Yangqi: "Look, you're romantic and rich, and—" His gaze gradually drifted downward. "Putting everything else aside, if my sister were with you, she'd at least be happy in one aspect."

Chen Luzhou: "Are you even human?"

Yifeng Alley was quiet and dim, its layered foliage casting deep shadows. The entire alley exuded a strong vintage vibe, with posters from the '80s and '90s plastered everywhere. The street was lined with bustling convenience stores, said to be one of Qingyi City's iconic historical buildings, often frequented by influencers for photos. The two of them walked deeper into the alley toward the residential buildings, carrying a turtle while Zhu Yangqi made a fuss—

"How do you, a pampered young master, live in a place so infested with mosquitoes? Holy shit, what was that just now? That thing that zoomed past—was that… the legendary Jerry?"

Zhu Yangqi had genuinely never seen a live rat before in his life.

Chen Luzhou chuckled, hooked an arm around Zhu Yangqi's neck, and pulled him close, pointing at a half-open rolling shutter nearby. "Keep yelling louder, and that hard-of-hearing old lady will think you're calling her 'honey.'"

"Why would she think that?"

"Because you're screaming like you're in love."

"..."

Zhu Yangqi grumbled the entire way.

When they reached the entrance of the high school senior review building, under the stark white streetlights, three figures stood like ink wash paintings on blank paper—one guy and two girls, one of whom had shockingly green hair.

Zhu Yangqi squinted, bewildered. "What the hell is that? A parrot spirit?"

Chen Luzhou also heard a voice that had popped up a little too often today. Sipping his cola, he paused and casually glanced over.

"There's no need to think so negatively before the results are out. Just because I solved the last two math and physics problems? Fine, I admit—that's on me."

It was clear the girl speaking genuinely meant to comfort, but her low empathy made even her own words unconvincing.

"..."

"..."

Zhu Yangqi nudged Chen Luzhou, sounding like he'd found a kindred spirit. "Damn, this girl's comfort skills are on par with yours."

Under the dim yellow streetlights, moths fluttered recklessly in endless circles, tireless. The trio had clearly been talking for a while, but the boy's expression remained indifferent, like a wooden stake planted firmly in place.

Then that clear, spring-like voice spoke again: "Even in City No. 1 High's experimental class, plenty of people didn't do well this time. Even the predicted top scorer missed an exam. Not that I'm cursing him, but if someone like you is wallowing in self-pity, wouldn’t it be unfair if he didn’t jump off a building?"

The "parrot" whispered, "Yeah, it was you who approached Xu Zhi first anyway."

...Zhu Yangqi never expected the gossip to land on his own buddy. He turned his head with schadenfreude and said, "The future top scorer in the gaokao is talking about you, huh? Hey, why haven’t you jumped off a building yet?"

Chen Luzhou shot him a glance.

Zhu Yangqi wore a look of eager anticipation: "But do they know you missed the Self-selected module? And they’re using you to comfort their boyfriends?"

Though Zhu Yangqi didn’t fully understand it either, from what their homeroom teacher had said, even without the Self-selected module, Chen Luzhou would have no problem getting into any university except the top two in the country. Plus, he had some competition bonus points to lower admission requirements. It was just his clueless mom who insisted on sending him abroad.

Chen Luzhou had one hand in his pocket and the other holding an unfinished bottle of Coke. His arm was slender and pale, the blue veins faintly visible under the dim light. With a tone that suggested he enjoyed stirring the pot, he said, "Why don’t you go tell her."

"Huh?"

"Our future top scorer may have missed one exam, but his mental fortitude is rock-solid," he draped the arm holding the Coke bottle lazily over Zhu Yangqi’s shoulder. "Not only does he not jump off buildings after bombing a test, he doesn’t even need his girlfriend to console him. Your boyfriend’s just too weak, man."

Zhu Yangqi clicked his tongue. "Wow, rare to see you not playing the victim. Weren’t you always the best at that?"

"When have I ever played the victim?"

"Your WeChat name is solid proof, okay? 'Cr'," Zhu Yangqi said. "Even though I only studied academics for two months, I know what that means."

"Cr," derived from citations in academic papers, where it’s commonly used. Abandoned by his birth parents, he didn’t know where he came from, so there was no suffix after it. That was how Zhu Yangqi interpreted it.

"With an imagination that wild, you should change your name to Stephen Bronze," Chen Luzhou looked down at him with an expression that said, I can’t believe you. "'Cr' is the name of a team in Crazy Racing Kart Rider. It stands for 'Crazy Racing,' the undefeated myth. Dummy, read more books."

Zhu Yangqi: "..."