Chapter 12: A Lifelong Partner Prediction

When Lin Chuji said that, he hadn’t thought much about it.

He simply felt that Xie Wan’s intense, obsessive attention toward Xie Yan was almost exactly the same as Zhan Wanqiu’s toward himself—both a bit crazily overbearing.

 

The only difference was that Xie Yan seemed to quite enjoy it, while he himself was full of resistance.

 

Afraid of being misunderstood, he explained further: “I’m not saying your sister is bad.

She’s very cute.”

 

When he looked up, he saw Xie Yan run his hands through his already messy hair, rarely losing his usual easygoing demeanor, as if brewing some kind of emotion.

 

Is he angry?

Lin Chuji also became flustered.

The more he wanted to explain clearly, the more chaotic his thoughts became, a jumbled mess.

 

He decided to change the subject.

His eyes caught the screen, and he said, “Oh, it looks like your photos came through.

Let me take a look.”

 

Xie Yan slid his finger along the edge of his phone, his thoughts scattered.

See?

It was well-intentioned, but now it’s turned me into a pervert.

What do I do?

This is really hard to explain, even with eight hundred mouths.

“I want to see too.

How come there’s a person here…”

Shen Yibei leaned in.

 

Before his head reached the screen, Xie Yan grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him back.

“Don’t look.

Lin Chuji, come here a moment.

I need to talk to you.”

 

Having just woken up and now being called away, the Shen brothers looked up in unison, their faces full of gossip, winking and raising their eyebrows.

“Whispering secrets?

We want to hear too.”

“Right.

Why the sudden encrypted voice chat?

Excluding us, are you?”

 

Xie Yan didn’t answer.

He simply reached out and grabbed Lin Chuji’s wrist, pulling him up from the sofa with a little force.

His hand was smaller than Xie Yan’s—as he moved, the phone in his hand wobbled precariously.

“It’s going to fall,” Lin Chuji said.

 

Xie Yan took the phone from him.

The screen was still on their chat dialog.

With a few taps, he could delete the photo and pretend nothing had happened.

But since Lin Chuji minded, he couldn’t just let him remain unaware and move on.

That wouldn’t be honorable enough.

“Come inside,” Xie Yan said, closing the door.

 

Lin Chuji sat on the edge of the bed.

The other bed was still messy, the blanket not yet folded.

Having known each other for a few days, he had never seen such a serious, wait-for-it posture, which made him nervous too.

“What… what do you want to say?”

Lin Chuji instinctively licked his dry lips.

 

Xie Yan placed his phone screen directly in front of him and opened the edited photo.

 

Lin Chuji recognized it instantly, his eyes widening.

“That’s me.”

 

The framing and composition were stunning.

Looking at the photo of himself with thousands of stars behind him gave him a dizzying feeling, as if the entire universe was blooming for him.

 

Xie Yan confessed: “Yes, I took it last night.

I took the liberty of carrying you out to the terrace while you were asleep.

Since you didn’t move, it went very smoothly—just a few minutes.”

 

Lin Chuji swallowed the compliment that had been on the tip of his tongue.

It was a surprise that I really, really liked, so why does it sound completely different when he describes it like that?

 

Seeing his complex expression, Xie Yan figured he really did mind.

Makes sense.

He wouldn’t even let me take a scenic photo of him when we first met.

By now, he probably thinks I’m a ten-out-of-ten stalker.

“I was in bed.

How did you get me…”

Lin Chuji gestured vaguely with his hands.

He truly had no memory of it—probably because he had been so tired from working all afternoon that he slept very soundly.

 

Xie Yan glanced at him without a word, then grabbed the jacket from the headboard, wrapped it around Lin Chuji’s white, fluffy pillow, tucked it in, covered it, then shoved it into his arms and carried it—going through the motions as he strode to the terrace and placed it on the small table.

 

Almost a one-hundred percent scene reenactment.

 

Xie Yan looked back at him, adding points for himself while inserting a personal touch: “Like that, got it?

I even added clothes because I was afraid you’d be cold.”

 

Lin Chuji: “…….”

 

He watched the pillow being deformed by the sea breeze and finally understood why Xie Yan had insisted he take medicine just now—the culprit was right here.

Knowing the whole process, his heart was a mix of indescribable emotions.

 

Lin Chuji thought for a moment, then guessed at his intention: “You used me as a prop for a staged photo.

Shooting just the empty scenery would be abrupt—you needed a human subject.”

 

Xie Yan found his line of thinking quite unusual.

He corrected him directly: “No.

I wanted to give you a keepsake.

Weren’t you always talking about wanting to see the meteor shower?

It would have been a shame for you to miss it.”

 

He was very straightforward, leaving Lin Chuji no need to guess.

 

Hearing those words, Lin Chuji looked blankly into his eyes, his tone, his expression, his words—all carried a sincerity that was easy to believe.

Zhan Wanqiu used to say that because he didn’t interact much with people, he could easily be deceived by the complexities of human nature.

But at this moment, he was willing to trust Xie Yan.

 

Xie Yan rubbed the fabric of his jacket between his fingertips and apologized: “I didn’t think much about it at the time.

I just did it.

If you feel offended, I’m sorry.

But my original intention was just that I didn’t want you to have regrets.”

Even letting him cling and hug at night—that was also just to fulfill a need of his.

 

The sea breeze blew through the curtain.

The room was quiet for a moment.

“No need to apologize.

I really like the photo.

Thank you,” Lin Chuji said, smiling at him.

 

Then, remembering the male models Xie Yan had photographed before, he asked cautiously, “You didn’t take anything else, did you?

Like those pornographic pictures of me tied up in weird poses with ropes?

Because you have a history—you tied me up the first night…”

 

Xie Yan laughed in exasperation.

“Of course not.

I have boundaries.”

 

Lin Chuji rarely gained the upper hand.

He glanced lightly at Xie Yan’s wrist and muttered, “If you didn’t, then why is your heart rate over a hundred?

What are you nervous about?”

 

Xie Yan returned to his usual calm, saying lazily, “Right.

Shocked by your yellow-brained mind.”

 

Lin Chuji tugged at the bedsheet, secretly releasing his tension.

It’s fine.

I got a beautiful photo today.

I won’t hold it against him.

 

Seeing that he had explained everything clearly, Xie Yan relaxed, walked back to the terrace slowly, and picked up the pillow.

When he turned around, he saw the Shen brothers’ wide eyes.

 

Two guys, plus a pillow, in this scene—absurd.

 

Shen Yinan said seriously, “Were you two locked in the room playing the game where one of you is the daddy and the other is the mommy?”

 

Shen Yibei shook his head.

“That’s really perverted.

Why did you put clothes on the pillow?

So you’ve already progressed to this stage?”

 

Xie Yan: “……Why don’t you two eat some walnuts?

You need brain food.”

 

Lin Chuji, however, was overjoyed.

He took that photo outside and first showed it to Shen Yinan: “Xie Yan took a photo of me with the meteor shower.”

 

Shen Yinan was sour as hell.

“Why didn’t he take one of me?

I’m ending our friendship.”

 

Lin Chuji turned around, looked at Shen Yibei, and said it again: “Xie Yan took a photo of me with the meteor shower.”

 

Shen Yibei said thoughtfully, “So now we’re also part of your role-play?”

 

Lin Chuji felt they were really cooperative.

Extroverted people were especially good at providing emotional validation at times like this.

 

Xie Yan hadn’t expected a single photo to make Lin Chuji so happy.

He casually complimented him: “Well, the model is good-looking.

No matter how you shoot, it won’t be ugly.

Unlike certain two people—deformed gourds—” Before he could finish, the two brothers tackled him onto the sofa, nearly assassinating him.

 

Lin Chuji sat quietly on the sofa, looking at that photo.

After thinking for a moment, he did something unprecedented: he posted on his Moments for the first time.

[lark]: I have a feeling my wish will definitely come true. (Photo taken by a friend named Xie Yan)

Because he rarely showed this part of his private life, even the caption was quite standard.

But for Lin Chuji, this was the highest honor he could bestow.

The word “friend” was something he used for the first time.

 

His WeChat was mainly for contacting Zhan Wanqiu.

He had only added three classmates from before—the class monitor for class dues, and two girls who had asked about homework.

His friend list was pitifully small.

 

But the last time Xie Yan had dragged him to that group dinner, he had ended up adding all those senior students from Jing University.

Now that he posted the photo, comments and likes popped up immediately, making it seem anything but lonely.

[So beautiful aaaa, little brother, don’t delete me after your trip ends!]

[Holy crap, you actually caught it.

That’s some serious perseverance.]

[Who took the photo?

Xie Yan?]

[Is this staged?

Why are your eyes closed?

But you look handsome.]

[Taken by my brother, I knew it.

You two definitely did something late at night.]

Lin Chuji had never seen such a lively response, nor did he know that mutual friends could see individual replies.

He typed seriously to each one.

[I was asleep.

Xie Yan carried me out to take it.]

[Xie Yan took it.

He stayed up very late.]

[It’s not staged.

Xie Yan arranged my pose for me.]

[He doesn’t have perverted tastes… he just wanted to take a nice photo for me.]

When Xie Yan finally freed himself from the two brothers’ hold and sat up again, he saw the freshly refreshed post and fell into thought.

 

Lin Chuji’s Moments had been completely empty.

If he hadn’t blocked him, then this photo was the only post.

So solemn, so happy, going around showing it off to everyone…

 

He wouldn’t try to make me, his substitute, permanent just because of a photo, would he?

[Zhenzhen]: So you didn’t need my help after all.

Good for you.

[Zhenzhen]: Not bad.

Keep it up.

 

Xie Yan received Xie Wan’s messages, kept a calm face, and solved it with one move.

[Crab Boss]: If you keep talking nonsense to Lin Chuji, I’m confiscating your phone when I get home.

 

***

 

In the evening, the group agreed to go to the island’s market.

Lin Chuji, happy all afternoon because of that photo, had a smile on his face even when he wasn’t talking.

 

Xie Yan followed slowly behind the group and found shopping incredibly boring.

 

Lin Chuji rarely had the chance to go out like this.

He stopped at this stall, looked at that stall—never resting.

Xie Yan, hands in his pockets, complained to Shen Yibei beside him: “I don’t get it.

What’s the fun in just looking and not buying?”

“With that attitude, I believe you’re straight,” Shen Yibei commented.

“You won’t find a girlfriend, and you won’t find a boyfriend either.”

 

Xie Yan played with the zipper on his jacket and said casually, “I really am straight.

As for finding a partner, let it happen naturally.”

“I wonder how many more days you’ll stay straight,” Shen Yibei said, his gaze very meaningful as he thought of Lin Chuji’s photo.

 

Shen Yinan walked ahead, turned around, and asked loudly, “Hey, I heard this fortune teller here is super accurate.

Do you guys want to get your fortunes told?”

 

Lin Chuji froze at those words.

Fortune telling?

That would definitely require giving my birth date and time.

Then lying about my age would be completely exposed.

No way.

Not happening.

 

He quickly refused, coming up with an excuse: “No.

Fortune telling thins out your fate.”

 

Xie Yan found it amusing.

He pushed Lin Chuji toward the stall.

“You believe that?

I think you should get your love fortune told.

See when you’ll meet the right one.”

He didn’t say the rest: Instead of dwelling on your ex-boyfriend and trying to find substitutes everywhere.

“I’m not interested in dating.

I don’t want my fortune told.

As for the future, it’s in my own hands.

I don’t need fortune telling for that either,” Lin Chuji said, very resistant.

“You get yours told if you want.”

 

Xie Yan nodded, not admitting anything.

Very consistent with Lin Chuji’s usual style.

 

He walked over, pulled out a chair, and sat down, resting his elbows on the table.

“I’ve never had my fortune told.

I’m pretty curious—can it really be accurate?”

“Sincerity makes it work.

Write down your birth date and time first,” the fortune teller said, fanning himself, looking every bit the old fraud.

“How many years have you been doing this?”

“Which school of thought do you follow?”

“If I wanted to get into this line of work, how would I do it?”

“Is there any danger in revealing the secrets of heaven?”

“If you’re wrong, do people come back and cause trouble for you?”

 

As Xie Yan wrote, he chatted casually, firing off question after question, leaving the fortune teller unable to answer, nearly refunding the order.

 

This attracted a crowd of nearby tourists who gathered to watch.

 

Lin Chuji murmured, “Why don’t you go ahead and…

I’ll go over—”

“Don’t go.

Listen together,” Xie Yan insisted on dragging him along, even bargaining with the fortune teller: “It’s a good hour right now.

You probably care a lot about fate.

So buy one, get one free—give my friend a reading too.”

“Please, no.

Really.”

The surrounding crowd burst into laughter.

Lin Chuji wanted to die.

Just play by yourself!

Why do you have to drag me into this!

 

The fortune teller ignored everything else and just repeated: “Write down your birth date and time first.”

“My birth details are confidential.

You’ll have to read them yourself,” Xie Yan said.

As he wrote down his birthday, he was also a bit nervous because he had lied to Lin Chuji that afternoon about already turning eighteen, so he tried to cover it up.

 

The fortune teller looked at the paper in his hands, was silent for a moment, then asked him, “What do you want to know?”

 

Xie Yan had only been playing along anyway, so he said casually, “I don’t care about the past.

Tell me about the future.

Like my luck, wealth, love life, whether I’ll become a high official, that sort of thing.”

“Alright.

Let’s talk about your luck.

Your fortune is the best I’ve seen in recent times—you were born with wealth and status.

Although your family life will have some bumps, that’s a trial you must go through, personally you will have smooth sailing, excellent academic results.

You just finished your college entrance exams, right?

The university and major are both very good.

You have a great future ahead,” the fortune teller said.

 

Xie Yan was silent.

 

Lin Chuji muttered quietly, “He acts pretty convincingly.”

Sure enough, fortune telling is just picking nice-sounding words.

One is willing to scam, the other is willing to be scammed.

“In short, stick to the path you’ve chosen.

You won’t regret it,” the man said.

 

Xie Yan had thought he was just a street con artist, but unexpectedly, he had accidentally gotten some things right.

Afraid that Lin Chuji might bring up the college entrance exam scores again, he quickly brushed it off: “I know I’m excellent.

I can recite those four-character idioms too.

Look at something else.”

 

The fortune teller slowly fanned himself and changed direction: “Alright.

Let’s look at your love life.

Your face shows the stirring of the Red Star; your destined love is appearing.

This is a sign that romance is approaching.

Pay attention to new people you meet during this trip—they may become your lifelong partner.”

 

Lifelong partner.

Such a grandiose word.

You can actually say that with a straight face.

“This trip only lasts a few days.

You’re joking,” Xie Yan said.

As he recalled the new girls he had met on this trip, there were a few, but he had only exchanged a couple of words with them during group activities.

Their faces were all blurry, let alone any memory of more interaction.

 

He casually looked up and met Lin Chuji’s eyes—Lin Chuji happened to be looking down at him.

Xie Yan’s heart jumped.

 

It was dusk now, the sun low.

Lin Chuji’s face was bathed in the afterglow of the sunset, radiating a quiet, tranquil beauty.

 

If he had to say who left the strongest impression on him during this trip, besides Lin Chuji, there was probably no one else.

 

Xie Yan held his gaze for only a second, then looked away and said with a laugh, “Master, I’ve thought about it.

I haven’t met anyone.

You must be wrong.”

“I’m not wrong.

If your partner turns out not to be someone you met at this time, come find me for a refund,” the man said calmly.

 

Xie Yan scoffed inwardly.

How arrogant.

By the time he got married, he’d be in his twenties or thirties.

How would he even find this guy?

 

Lin Chuji also listened for amusement.

How much could he believe of a street con artist’s words?

But he felt like going against Xie Yan anyway.

So he patted Xie Yan on the shoulder, practicing the joking tone he had seen others use, and said quietly, “You still have a day and a half left.

There’s hope.

You need to hurry.”

 

Xie Yan slowly looked up at him.

 

He wouldn’t be taking that role for himself, would he?

Implying that I’m his destined love?

“Hurry at what?”

Xie Yan stood up, staring into his eyes, asking bluntly.

 

Lin Chuji’s back stiffened.

He wasn’t sure how far to take the joke, and grew nervous.

 

After being stared at by Xie Yan for a few seconds, he tried to lean in bravely and whispered close to his ear, “Hurry and find a partner.”

 

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