Be Passionately In Love

By the end of July, Lian Hui's production team was busy scouting and filming locations in a foreign country. Chen Luzhou took Chen Xingqi to visit nearby tourist spots, including filming locations from Game of Thrones . He had caught a bad cold right after landing and was now acting as a tour guide for Chen Xingqi while visibly under the weather. When he mentioned that a legendary superstar had died near the area, even bystanders were drawn in, their curious and eager gazes lingering on the handsome Chinese boy with a small black hair tie around his wrist.

Dressed in all black—sleek, slender, and effortlessly stylish—Chen Luzhou still wore his signature black baseball cap, though with a different logo this time. Most of his clothes bore this obscure brand’s insignia, which had gained popularity among the boys at his high school, largely because of him.

"He's so handsome, and so patient with his little brother," a passing girl remarked, completely unaware of the situation.

Chen Xingqi was engrossed, utterly captivated. His brother had always been a master storyteller—the more casually he spoke, the more gripping the tale became. Just as he was about to ask who the superstar was, Chen Luzhou crossed his arms indifferently and glanced down at him. "Eight hundred, and I'll tell you."

Chen Xingqi exploded. "I just gave you eight hundred!"

Whether it was due to illness or jet lag, Chen Luzhou seemed unusually low-energy. He merely coughed and gestured dismissively toward a student tour guide at the entrance. "Why don’t you ask her? Given our workload these past two days, her rate’s at least a thousand RMB. I already checked."

Ever since his brother’s "breakup," Chen Xingqi had noticed his obsession with making money. Throughout their trip, Chen Luzhou had been ruthlessly charging for photos—150 RMB for four shots—and several women from the production team had actually paid up. One of them, a high-profile producer rumored to be the show’s main backer, came from a wealthy family and had just gone through a divorce, reportedly walking away with billions. She was stunning but shameless, striking a sultry pose on the deck while boldly flirting, "If photos cost money, how much for a touch, little brother?"

"Touch where?" Chen Luzhou had replied lazily, adjusting the camera’s aperture.

"What do you think?" Her eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"Can’t. Just got dumped—nothing excites me right now. Not even you."

"Dumped?" The producer lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly. Her well-maintained face showed no trace of wrinkles, her eyes narrowing with amusement. She found Lian Hui’s son intriguing—arrogant in a way that only made him more appealing. What had started as playful teasing had turned into genuine curiosity. "What girl could possibly dump you ? I don’t buy it. You must’ve been the one who ended it."

"Guess I met the most impressive one, then. Photos are sent. WeChat’s deleted." He pocketed his phone.

Out of all the people he’d added, she was the only one he’d removed—without even collecting payment.

"Why delete me?" she grumbled, hastily checking her phone. "I’m your mom’s colleague."

"Because I don’t want you harassing me. None of my mom’s other colleagues offered to touch me." Leaning against the deck railing, his expression remained unreadable."Come to think of it, you look a lot like your mom."

"Really?"

"Yeah, quite a bit."

At that moment, Chen Xingqi felt like he had accidentally stumbled into the blunt world of adults. It was then that he suddenly realized—he had always thought his brother was just a kid like him. But while he was still immersed in days filled with go-karts and bubble machines, his brother had quietly grown up, even capable of handling these annoying disturbances with ease. Though, Chen Luzhou had probably been used to it since childhood. Back when he attended dinner gatherings with Chen Jishen, many uncles and aunts would tease him about his looks.

Perhaps because he had experienced such situations so often, his brother, despite never having been in a serious relationship, was well-versed in the art of flirting. When Chen Xingqi had a crush on Xixi from their class, he once tried to seek advice from him. His brother had arrogantly told him, "You’ve got to tease girls, man. Being clingy like this won’t work."

How do you tease?

His brother had been watching a game at the time, and there happened to be a slice of watermelon on the table. He had just taken a bite, then scooped a spoonful for Chen Xingqi, eyes still glued to the TV, spoon in hand, casually asking, "Sweet?"

Chen Xingqi shook his head and said the middle part was the sweetest—he wanted that.

Chen Luzhou stopped feeding him, tossed the spoon back into the hollow of the watermelon, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and leaned back on the couch to continue watching the game. Slowly, he summed it up: "Get it? Feed her bite by bite. Don’t give her the whole watermelon at once. Everyone knows the middle’s the sweetest part."

Chen Xingqi had an epiphany then—it really hit home. So he always assumed his brother must be a natural when it came to dating. These past few days, though his brother didn’t seem particularly off, his words had become sharper, and Chen Xingqi didn’t dare provoke him. Grumbling, he was about to pull out his wallet when their mom called, telling them to come back—the location scouting was done, and they were heading back to the hotel.

Chen Luzhou gave a quiet "Mm" and was about to hang up when two loud "bangs" suddenly echoed through the phone. He froze for a second before immediately realizing: "Mom, was that gunfire?"

Chen Xingqi was terrified, trembling as he shrank into Chen Luzhou’s arms, whispering, "Bro, I’m scared." Chen Luzhou held him while confirming the situation with their mom, but Lian Hui must have dropped the phone in shock. All he heard was a series of chaotic noises through the receiver, then hurried footsteps—maybe someone stepping over the phone. About a minute later, Lian Hui finally picked it back up, her breathing ragged, her voice shaking like never before as she frantically called his name, "Luzhou, Luzhou."

Chen Luzhou hailed a cab and bundled the pale, shivering Chen Xingqi inside. "Mom, I’m here. Chen Xingqi’s fine."

"What about you? Are you okay?"

"We’re both fine. We’re pretty far from your location."

Lian Hui’s throat was dry. The person had collapsed right across the street, right before her eyes, without warning. At first, with no visible blood, she thought it might be one of those street prank shows abroad—until the person started convulsing on the ground, bright red blood gushing out like a fountain. Lian Hui could even smell the metallic tang of it.The ancient boulevard was dignified and elegant, with few pedestrians and a broad, flat road. The opulent castle-like buildings on either side now exuded a chilling gloom due to the horrific shooting incident.

Many staff members were so terrified they collapsed on the spot, while passersby screamed and fled in panic. Lian Hui’s eyes were dry, but she forced herself to stay composed and said to Chen Luzhou, "Take your brother back to the hotel first."

By that afternoon, the trending topics were flooded with heated discussions about the shooting. The victim was an international student. Whether due to the rapid spread of public opinion or the timely media coverage in recent years, such violent incidents had become increasingly rampant.

After Lian Hui’s production team was questioned by the police, they safely evacuated, leaving only a few bold journalists to continue reporting on the scene. Once back at the hotel, they debated whether to proceed with their schedule. In the end, Lian Hui gritted her teeth and decided to push forward—once they returned, securing additional budget would be nearly impossible.

After the meeting, Lian Hui went downstairs to check on the brothers. Chen Xingqi was already asleep, his forehead damp with sweat, his rest uneasy as he kicked at the blankets. Exhausted, Lian Hui said to Chen Luzhou, who had just stepped out of the shower, "I booked your return flights. You’ll leave tomorrow afternoon. Stay in the country for a few days—it’s not safe here right now."

"Mm."

"Has your cold gotten any better?"

Chen Luzhou leaned against the bathroom door, haphazardly drying his hair with a towel. His damp locks were disheveled, his entire body dripping. "No. Summer colds tend to linger."

"I’ll get you some medicine later," Lian Hui said, pressing a hand to his forehead—cool to the touch—then brushing the back of her hand against his cheek. It wasn’t feverish, but she realized with surprise that he seemed thinner. His face was already small, and now there was hardly any flesh beneath her touch. "At least you don’t have a fever. You shouldn’t shower when you’re sick. Is the food here not agreeing with you?"

Chen Luzhou didn’t respond. The towel hung around his neck as he leaned against the door and asked, "If I take Xingqi back, what about you and Dad?"

"We’ll stay a few more days. I need to finish shooting the remaining scenes," Lian Hui said. "Your father might stay even longer—he has a connecting flight to Germany soon."

"Alright. Be careful." Water droplets from his hair trickled down, landing on the tip of his nose. Absentmindedly, he wiped his hair again with the towel.

Lian Hui looked up at him, her gaze tender. "When I first met you, you were only this tall. Now you’re almost as tall as the door."

"Exaggeration. I’m only 185. This door has to be at least 210," he said, tilting his head back and revealing the sharp line of his Adam’s apple.

"185 was last year’s measurement, wasn’t it? Xiao Liu from our office is 187, and you look taller than him."

Chen Luzhou gave a half-hearted chuckle, still rubbing the towel against the back of his head. "Maybe 187 or 188 with shoes."

Lian Hui studied him for a moment. Sensing she had more to say, Chen Luzhou stayed silent, waiting.The night was deep, all the bedroom lights were off. Chen Xingqi was sound asleep, snoring loudly as he turned over and scratched his neck. Only the bathroom light remained on. After much deliberation, Lian Hui ultimately didn't say what she intended to. Instead, she spoke softly, "Even if I explain many things, you wouldn't understand us. Because you'd inevitably analyze us from your own perspective—everyone does the same. Just like your father only analyzes you from his viewpoint. After all, none of us are each other. In this world, there's no such thing as true empathy—no one can genuinely understand another."

It was about the second day after returning home when Chen Luzhou went back to the rented apartment to pick up some things. As soon as he pushed the door open, a sour, rotten smell assaulted his nose. Several unfinished containers of pickled vegetable instant noodles were left on the table, already spoiled and stinking. After he left, he had lent the place to Jiang Cheng for a few days.

The sour stench was truly overwhelming. Chen Luzhou wasn't sure if it was his heightened sensitivity or what, but the acrid smell lingered in his nostrils, irritating his heart.

He sat on the sofa for a while, staring at the small hair tie in his hand—the one he had deliberately taken from Xu Zhi's head while kissing her that night. She hadn't noticed and had even searched carefully around every spot they'd kissed. At the time, Chen Luzhou had teased her, "If you lose this, are you going to become a nun or something?" Xu Zhi had replied, "No, it's just that I keep losing them. This is the last one."

He had known this would be the outcome, yet he had stepped right into it. That day, after returning from the barbecue shop, Zhu Yangqi had been there packing his things. As soon as he entered, he asked, "So you really broke up?"

Chen Luzhou had grunted in affirmation, but inwardly, he mocked himself—it wasn't like they had ever truly started.

Zhu Yangqi sighed, shoving his paintbrushes haphazardly into his bag. "Luzhou, at first I thought you were the one pursuing her, but later I realized you were the one being pursued." Then, with some embarrassment, he asked, "Did you two... do it?"

Chen Luzhou, slouched inelegantly in his chair, grabbed an empty beer bottle from the table and threw it at him. "Can you not ask such stupid questions?!"

"Damn, the way you're reacting means you definitely did."

Annoyed, he retorted, "I said no. We only kissed—nothing else. Even if I were seriously dating someone, I wouldn't sleep with them after just a month. Where's your brain? And let's drop the topic of Xu Zhi here. If you dare tell anyone, I'll kill you."

"Brave enough to do it but not to admit it, huh?"

"It's not that. Qingyi is such a small place—I don't want rumors spreading and making things hard for her. It's fine if I'm abroad, but she'll probably come back eventually."

"Tsk tsk, Campus Idol Chen, you're truly the ceiling for ambiguous relationships."

"...Get lost."

Chen Luzhou felt he shouldn't have come back. The entire apartment was filled with traces of her—especially this sofa. That night, when he had helped her revise her draft here, they had nearly ended up fighting. Chen Luzhou had a habit of adding poetic lines that fit the scene, but Xu Zhi found it pretentious and refused to include them: "Can't you just speak like a normal person?"Chen Luzhou was also furious at the time. He snapped his laptop shut, lazily draped his arm over the back of the sofa, and sprawled with his legs crossed in an uncharacteristically casual manner, leaning back like some entitled lord. He roughly ruffled her hair and said, "What, looking down on us romanticist poets, huh?"

The two had been arguing heatedly, but his words made Xu Zhi burst into laughter, collapsing into his arms. She nestled into a comfortable position and said, "Anyone who can write about whether the moon is round or not definitely isn't a small-time poet anymore, Chen Jiaojiao. And one last warning—don't touch my head."

"Fine, I won't touch anything at all then."

"That won't do either."

Xu Zhi immediately leaned in closer. Chen Luzhou remained against the back of the sofa, expressionless but helpless, pressing a perfunctory kiss to her lips before muttering, "Happy now?"

In his heart, he cursed, Little brat.

"Chen Jiaojiao." Xu Zhi seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.

Jiao as in tsundere .

But those were all just memories now.

...

That day, Chen Luzhou sat on the sofa from dawn till dusk. Outside, the streets were brightly lit, the roads aglow, but inside, the room was pitch black. His slender figure resembled an autumn leaf forgotten in a courtyard of parasol trees.

Upstairs and outside the window, the clamor of life continued—the sizzle of cooking, the sound of scolding, the beep of an electric bike locking, the crunch of wheels rolling over gravel on the road—all vibrant signs of a living, breathing world.

But inside the room, it was cold and silent. Nothing had been tidied up. He let the scents wash over him, let his nose sting uncontrollably, let his heart burn as if set aflame, and let his eyes redden.