Be Passionately In Love

"An expert, absolutely an expert," Zhu Yangqi declared emphatically. "If she's not a female player, I'll change my name to Stylish Zhu from now on."

The name Zhu Yangqi was given by his grandfather, as he happened to be of the Yang generation. Later, when he started elementary school and learned English, realizing that surnames come last in English names, his classmates nicknamed him "Stylish Pig." He wailed all the way home, demanding a name change. At the time, his grandfather was on a winning streak at the mahjong table, gleefully rubbing his hands together over a good hand, laughing heartily, "Well chosen, well chosen indeed!"

Back then, the five or six-year-old Zhu Yangqi had no idea his grandfather was referring to the mahjong game. He thought his grandfather was praising the nickname his classmates had given him. Overwhelmed with sorrow, he cried himself hoarse, experiencing at a tender age the harsh truth that—life is mostly unsatisfactory, and only a fraction can be shared, especially not nicknames. Hence, Zhu Yangqi harbored a deep hatred for the moniker "Stylish Zhu," and this bet was essentially his all-in.

Chen Luzhou was in the shower at the moment, the spray turned low, the water trickling over his lean and well-defined muscles. His abdomen resembled neatly arranged pebbles, full and powerful.

The little turtle had somehow crawled out of its box and was now lapping at the water by his feet. Chen Luzhou picked it up disdainfully and moved it aside, but it tirelessly crawled back. With a sigh, he thought, fine, tomorrow he'd take it home and give it to that fool Chen Xingqi. Oh, wait—tomorrow was Sunday, and his dad would probably be home. Better let the kid come out and get it himself.

When Chen Luzhou finished showering and stepped out with a towel around his waist, Zhu Yangqi was sitting on the sofa with a cigarette dangling from his lips, having polished off Chen Luzhou’s last two packs of instant noodles before heading out to sketch. With no lights, he had dug up two candles somewhere—this was a genuine candlelit dinner, the flickering flames practically begging for romantic interpretations.

"How’s this? Better than a microwave, right?" Zhu Yangqi teased.

Chen Luzhou haphazardly toweled his hair, shuffled over in slippers, bent down to blow out both candles, then lazily flopped onto the sofa, continuing to dry his hair in the dark. "With her, I could tolerate it—awkwardness aside. But with you? No way. I’d worry you’d get ideas."

Zhu Yangqi took the cigarette from his mouth, stunned speechless: ?

"What the hell? It’s fine if she has ideas about you, Mr. Chen? She has a boyfriend, you know!"

Zhu Yangqi had only been trash-talking Tan Xu for fun earlier, but Chen Luzhou’s audacity knew no bounds, making him suddenly uncertain.

In the dimness, their outlines blurred, but the bright moonlight outside still faintly illuminated their expressions. Chen Luzhou paused mid-towel-dry, looking genuinely conflicted. "Then what do you want me to do? She hasn’t said anything out of line."

Zhu Yangqi could practically see the smirk on his face. "You’re just hoping she’ll go further! Don’t tell me you actually have feelings for her?"

"Listen," Zhu Yangqi cut him off before he could respond, wearing the knowing expression of someone who’d been burned by a player. "You’re still naive. That Xu Zhi is absolutely a female player—and her friend’s no saint either."Chen Luzhou was utterly speechless. Leaning back on the sofa, he laughed uncontrollably before tossing the towel aside and sitting up. He opened his instant noodle cup, too tired to argue further, and picked up the fork to stir it a couple of times. Admitting defeat, he said, "Alright, alright, bro, spare me. Next time I see her, I’ll definitely steer clear."

Only then did Zhu Yangqi put his cigarette down, satisfied. He opened his own cup of noodles, slurped a mouthful, and asked, "But are you really planning to listen to your mom and go abroad?"

"Yeah."

"Why don’t you resist? There are so many good schools in Beijing and Shanghai. The scores aren’t even out yet, and this year’s math exam was so hard. You nearly aced it—that alone could pull your total score up. I bet you still have a shot at A University. Why do you have to listen to your mom and go abroad? Are you really that scared of her?" Zhu Yangqi scoffed.

"Maybe. After all, I’m adopted," Chen Luzhou paused mid-stir with his fork, then added, "And this is my only home."

That made sense, but Zhu Yangqi knew Chen Luzhou well enough. Fuming, he laughed mockingly, adopting the tone of a brash teenager: "Cut the crap! You’re just lazy. You think it’s a waste of emotion. There’s no one you care about leaving behind, right? You don’t care about me or the guys, and you don’t care about the girls who’ve liked you for years. You just don’t give a damn about anyone."

Chen Luzhou sighed. "You know what my parents are like. Since childhood, when has resisting ever worked? Did the outcome ever change? Speaking of friends, we weren’t even in the same school for three years in middle school, and we barely kept in touch. Didn’t you still buddy up with Zhang Xiaosan and Li Xiaosi like you were joined at the hip? I didn’t see you crying like this back then."

"That was just me making do," Zhu Yangqi refused to admit it.

Chen Luzhou sat hunched slightly on the sofa, his tall frame bent as he meticulously picked out slices of beef from his noodles and laid them on the lid to save for his pet turtle later. With foresight, he said, "Same. Once I’m gone, you’ll find a Zhao Xiaowu in no time."

Then he lowered his head and slurped a mouthful of noodles.

He knew it all too well—to anyone, he was never the one and only.

**

Under the wall, the tree leaves, still damp from the afternoon rain, shimmered like golden scales under the dim yellow streetlights. The cicadas in the alley chirped loudly, and the mottled walls exuded a musty, timeworn dampness.

"...Zhu Yangqi said he and Chai Jingjing agreed to go to the same university, but he never mentioned anything about college to me. We’ve known each other since sophomore year and chat almost every day," Cai Yingying sobbed uncontrollably, her face pressed against the wall. "Five minutes ago, he even asked if I wanted ice cream from Mixue. How does he have so much time? Cai Yingying, Chai Jingjing... Wuwuwu... Does he think he’s collecting stars or something?"

After what happened earlier with Tan Xu, Xu Zhi didn’t dare speak carelessly now, afraid of making things worse. Unconsciously, she thought of Chen Luzhou—if only she had a mouth like his. At least, no matter how his words sounded, the atmosphere wouldn’t be this painfully silent.

"How about we find someone to beat him up?" That was all Xu Zhi could come up with—she was a straightforward person. "Doesn’t Uncle Fu know people from the underworld?"Uncle Fu was a good friend of both their fathers. He had retired from his old life many years ago and now spent his days quietly grinding stones in the mountains. Every summer, Old Xu and Old Cai would take the girls up there to escape the heat.

Cai Yingying’s sobbing abruptly stopped. Sniffling, she stared at Xu Zhi thoughtfully, then said, “...Uncle Fu’s grip would probably kill Zhai Xiao.”

“No, no,” Cai Yingying waved her hands tearfully, choking up. “You can’t tell Uncle Fu or the others. Whether I break up with him or beat him up, I’ll decide myself. You’re not allowed to interfere.”

She could be ruthless when she wanted to be.

Xu Zhi sighed magnanimously. “Fine.”

Afraid Xu Zhi would focus too much on Zhai Xiao, Cai Yingying quickly wiped her tears, grabbed her hand, and pulled her toward home, changing the subject. “How did you end up going to roast sweet potatoes with that handsome guy?”

“It was roasted sweet potatoes. Grandma wanted some, but there was nowhere to buy them. Chen Luzhou said he happened to have some at home.” Xu Zhi shook the two freshly roasted, piping-hot sweet potatoes in her hand.

“Ugh, Zhu Yangqi’s ears must be useless—might as well steam them and eat them. He said you two went to play whack-a-mole. I knew that couldn’t be true. Why would two people suddenly go play whack-a-mole for no reason?” Cai Yingying said. “But I didn’t expect Chen Luzhou to be so nice.”

Xu Zhi nodded in agreement. “Don’t you think he’s actually pretty approachable?”

Cai Yingying burst out laughing. “He’s clearly a total show-off.”

“Remember that woman I told you about? That’s his mom,” Xu Zhi said.

Cai Yingying froze. “The one whose voice and speech habits are exactly like your mom’s?”

“Yeah,” Xu Zhi nodded slowly, pausing as if deep in thought. After a moment, she said, “Have you ever seen that movie, The Woman of the Nile ? It’s an Indian film about a brilliant woman, a genius architect. But because of her past as a temple prostitute—her history was messy, full of stains—no matter how breathtaking her designs were, she could never win awards. The world’s judgment of her was mostly insulting, though some recognized her talent. So, to live with dignity, she abandoned her child and husband, teamed up with a capitalist who coveted her talent, staged a fire, faked her death, and got plastic surgery to assume another identity. Soon, her work won a global award. But years later, drowning in a life of luxury, she could no longer create moving designs. The capitalist quickly discarded her and used her voiceprint to expose her true identity.”

Cai Yingying seemed to catch a clue. “No wonder you didn’t hesitate to knock on his door when you saw the necklace fall into the tree. Do you think your mom—”

“I just want to know why the two of them are so similar. Whether it’s true or not, I know the chances are slim. But I need to confirm it for my own peace of mind. I just want to understand.”

She couldn’t just march up to Chen Luzhou and say, I want to check if your mom is my mom . He’d definitely think she was insane.Lin Qiudie reportedly passed away in her hometown. At the time of the burial, Xu Zhi was away at summer camp and didn’t make it back for the funeral. The old lady didn’t wait for her—the summer heat made keeping the body in the village unbearable for the locals. Besides, the old lady was particular about feng shui, and the window for the burial was narrow. Missing it would mean waiting another half year, and storing the ashes at the mortuary would cost a pretty penny.

Xu Guangji insisted on waiting for Xu Zhi to return. Over this, the usually mild-mannered Xu Guangji flew into a rage at the old lady for the first time. But she had always done as she pleased.

Xu Zhi thought, maybe it was for the best. If she had seen Lin Qiudie’s body cremated with her own eyes, perhaps things wouldn’t have come to this.

Cai Yingying mulled it over. “But that doesn’t add up. Auntie passed away just a few years ago… There’s no way he could be her son—the ages don’t match. Don’t overthink it; the more you say, the weirder it sounds.”

“He was probably adopted,” Xu Zhi said.

The alley was quiet. They walked this cobbled path almost every day, yet Cai Yingying had never felt such a chill as she did now. The deeper they went, the colder it became, until they stopped at their usual parting spot.

Cai Yingying was so shocked her jaw nearly dropped. “He told you that?”

Xu Zhi shook her head and instead repeated the conversation she’d overheard at the door that afternoon.

—“Do you always have to be so sharp?”

—“Didn’t you know from the first day you met me that I’m all edges?”

…

“Doesn’t that sound strange if they were biologically related?” Xu Zhi laid out her thoughts from the night, her voice steady despite her exhaustion. For some reason, her mind just wouldn’t stop. “At first, I thought it might be a stepmother situation. But remember when we had dinner together? Someone was cursing at him on WeChat, and Zhu Yangqi asked how he could just take it. He replied with this—”

—“He sounded so sincere, I thought he knew where my ancestors’ graves were. I was curious, but he never left an address in the end.”

Leaning against the wall, she added, “That means it’s not a stepmother, because his dad isn’t his biological father either. He probably doesn’t even know who his real parents are. So adoption is the only explanation. There’s one more thing—not sure if it counts as evidence.”

Cai Yingying was stunned. “What?”

“I saw a signed basketball at his place. At first, I thought it was signed by NBA All-Stars, but on closer look, every signature was the same—his own name. Even his drone and iPad were engraved with his name. Maybe it’s narcissism, or maybe it’s habit. He must’ve lived in a big communal setting before, with a cleanliness obsession, marking all his belongings. Like in an orphanage.”

Cai Yingying was utterly convinced, gaping in amazement.

Xu Zhi sighed, gazing up at the high wall where clusters of bright red oleander hung under the pale moonlight. They reminded her of the colorful candy jars she loved as a child. What kid didn’t love candy? Lin Qiudie, afraid she’d ruin her teeth, always kept the jars on the highest shelf. No amount of begging or crying moved anyone—except Old Xu, who couldn’t bear to see her upset and would sneak her a piece or two every now and then.

Xu Zhi murmured, “If Chen Luzhou grew up in an orphanage… was there ever anyone to sneak him candy?”Xu Zhi remarked, "Then he probably wasn’t very happy as a child."

"No, of course not."

He straightened up from the claw machine, ready to leave. "Fine. If you're not dying, don't come to me."

"So I can only come to you if I'm dying?"

Chen Luzhou flicked his smooth little forehead. "Are you stupid? If you're dying, why come to me? To have me cover you with a white sheet?"

So the rule was—

Don't come to me for anything.

Chen Xingqi hesitated. "...Alright, bro, I'll just say it straight. I want to go to the mountains with my classmates to escape the heat, but Mom won't let us go unless..."

Chen Luzhou gave him a knowing look. "Unless I go with you, right? To babysit a bunch of spoiled brats? Fine. Eight hundred a day—food, drinks, and entertainment included."

"Deal," Chen Xingqi sent him an address. "Here's the location."

—Fu Yu Mountain Villa.