Chapter 73: Little Xue Tonight

The butler was sleeping soundly when he was suddenly jolted awake in the middle of the night. Hearing what sounded like thunder outside, he scrambled to a sitting position, thoroughly terrified, momentarily wondering if the old master had finally been struck by divine lightning as karmic retribution.

Clutching his gray-haired head as he sat on the bed, he debated whether he should pack his bags and run for it or go save the man. Ultimately, after hesitating back and forth, he slid out of bed and poked his head out the door to take a look.

As he peeked out, he discovered He Pinglan was also clinging to the edge of her door frame, peering out into the hallway.

He Pinglan’s bedroom had originally been on the second floor. However, after Tan Xueci and He Xunye returned, she had moved up to the third floor to live alongside them. The butler, who was tasked with looking after them, stayed on the exact same floor.

He Pinglan had also been startled awake by the noise. But the moment she opened her eyes, she remembered it was currently winter—there was absolutely no way it would be thundering and raining in the capital. Furthermore, the commotion seemed to be echoing from inside the mansion itself. Fearing something might have happened to He Xunye and Tan Xueci, she got up to check.

As a result, her eyes locked straight onto the butler’s old face, catching him sneakily peering toward Tan Xueci’s room.

With a dark, stormy expression and wearing her female ghost nightgown, He Pinglan strode forward and delivered a resounding slap right across his face.

It cracked through the air as loud as a thunderclap.

Clutching his swollen cheek, the butler scurried back into his room, whimpering and sobbing, never daring to peek again.

The third miss had always possessed a fiery temper, and ever since she developed mental illness, she had become increasingly formidable. Absolutely no one dared to cross her.

Though, the butler constantly suspected the third miss was merely faking her illness—likely just to secure a perfectly justifiable excuse to openly wallop whoever she pleased.

Tan Xueci was currently enduring a severe bout of sleep paralysis. He couldn’t lift a single finger, and he couldn’t even open his eyes. Locked within the pitch-black confines of the bedroom, he could only feel those freezing, ghostly hands traveling across his form, leaving every single inch of his skin feeling incredibly soft and numb.

The blanket covering his body had been completely tossed aside, and his pajamas were pulled wide open. Yet he didn’t feel the slightest bit of cold; under the entity’s hyper-focused, infatuated gaze, a thin layer of sweat even began to bead across his skin.

The ghost’s long, slender fingers slid inside his mouth, swirling around a few times, utilizing his own saliva as lubrication.

“It’s so cold outside,” the entity’s freezing breath swept across his lower abdomen. Within the shadowy bedroom, those lips appeared increasingly dark and crimson as it let out a soft sigh, coaxing, “Will Baby let Husband slide inside to warm up? Just for a little while, my good baby…”

Tan Xueci’s muscles were completely relaxed in a state of slumber, yet his consciousness grew sharper and more lucid by the second.

He knew the tips of his ears must be burning hot, but he had absolutely no way of stopping the entity.

He could only listen to the ghost acting like a complete pervert, its voice low and muffled as it muttered to itself against his stomach for a while. Then, its movements suddenly turning urgent, it tightly squeezed his waist, grabbed both of his hands, and forced him to wrap his arms around its shoulders—as if they were currently engaged in some deeply passionate, mutual act of intimacy.

The moment Tan Xueci’s arms weakly slid back down, they were promptly pulled back up by the entity. After this repeated a few times, the fierce ghost knitted its brows, a wave of uncontrollable, frigid irritation surfacing across its deathly pale face in the darkness.

Following that, Tan Xueci felt the mattress beneath him gradually grow freezing cold. It felt less like he was lying on a bed and more like he was resting directly against a lifeless, icy chest.

Yet the entity’s physical form wasn’t entirely solid. He felt an omnipresent sensation that he might slip right through at any moment, filling him with a sense of panic.

The ghost’s arms possessed a rigid, bony texture. It rubbed them against his soft, slender arms a few times before taking his hands and forcing them to clasp tightly around its neck.

Tan Xueci’s eyelashes fluttered frantically. He couldn’t begin to comprehend how such an absurd situation was happening, his entire body burning hot from intense embarrassment. The moment he finally regained the ability to move, he rested on the bed for a brief second to gather his bearings, braced all his strength, and delivered a sharp slap right across the ghost’s face.

The fierce ghost had been contentedly cradling its wife, resting peacefully right beside him. Tan Xueci’s soft embrace had been hugging him tightly just moments ago, making him feel that Tan Xueci loved him immensely, leaving him completely defenseless around the youth.

Even if Tan Xueci had suddenly pulled out a talisman to blast him to pieces, he wouldn’t have been able to react in time.

Thus, receiving a sudden slap from his wife caught him completely off guard, sending him tumbling straight off the mattress. The fierce ghost’s pale, jade-like shoulder and back muscles instinctively tensed up, hitting the wardrobe with a heavy thud.

His face completely flushed, Tan Xueci sat up on the bed. Still feeling entirely unsatisfied, he sat at the edge of the mattress and aggressively kicked He Xunye several times.

It wasn’t until a massive boom echoed from outside—sounding simultaneously like thunder and a heavy slap—that he stopped, his strength completely zapped from the scare.

Seizing the opportunity, the fierce ghost wrapped its arms around its wife’s legs, kneeling on the floor as it leaned tightly into his embrace. Before Tan Xueci could push him away, he had already locked his arms around Tan Xueci’s waist, looking as though he had been thoroughly frightened as well.

Tan Xueci instinctively reached out to pat the ghost’s head. The moment he realized what he was doing, he wanted to flare up again. However, He Xunye remained buried in his embrace, tilting his head up to gaze at him with thick, sweeping eyelashes that looked inexplicably innocent, causing the youth’s hand to soften once more.

When He Xunye maintained a cold, stern expression, one could clearly tell he was much older than Tan Xueci. Yet ever since this ghost died, he had become incredibly fond of smiling.

With those peach-blossom eyes curved up, he nuzzled into his embrace like a little puppy, licking at the youth’s fingertips with a trace of youthful innocence.

It made Tan Xueci feel as though he were merely a pitiful little spirit—one who, if separated from his wife, would instantly turn into an unwanted, wandering ghost forced to fight other spirits for scraps of food outside.

Tan Xueci’s heart softened yet again. He had to admit he was incredibly wicked.

I should have just endured it earlier. What if the ghost truly felt freezing cold? They were already married anyway; using his stomach to warm up his husband didn’t seem like a big deal. He could simply shelter He Xunye inside his body.

Fearing it might thunder again outside, Tan Xueci rustled about as he pulled He Xunye back onto the bed, covering them both with the blanket.

Resting against his chest, the ghost did exactly as his wife commanded, offering absolute compliance.

Tan Xueci waited until the commotion outside settled completely before turning up the bedside lamp slightly. He cupped He Xunye’s face, lowering his head to examine it closely.

Logically speaking, a ghost was a dead spirit with a pale, ghastly complexion; no matter how many times it was slapped, its face shouldn’t display any physical changes aside from bleeding. Yet He Xunye’s cheek had actually been slapped bright red by him, which was incredibly bizarre.

However, Tan Xueci was a deeply earnest and simple-minded person at times. Believing no one in the world could possibly be more wicked than himself, the thought that He Xunye might be deliberately acting pitiful never even crossed his mind.

Lowering his head, he pursed his lips and gently blew a soft breath against the reddened skin. The tips of his ears were still slightly pink, but he sat perfectly upright on the mattress, prepared to negotiate with He Xunye like a proper late-night marital council.

“You can’t do this,” Tan Xueci lectured him with a flushed face. “How can you sneakily touch me while I’m sleeping? You can clearly do it while I’m awake. It’s not like I said you couldn’t.”

Yet he failed to realize that ghosts were inherently greedy creatures. If he allowed it while awake, the ghost would naturally crave it even more while he slept, absolutely refusing to miss out on a single drop of indulgence.

Staring at the earnest expression on his wife’s beautiful little face, He Xunye reached out to pull Tan Xueci into his arms, burying his face deep into the youth’s neck. Unable to contain himself any longer, a low chuckle escaped his lips, sending a visible tremor running through his chest.

Tan Xueci knitted his brows, unable to discern whether the ghost was laughing or crying. He hadn’t said anything remotely amusing; could it be that he had been too fierce, causing He Xunye to weep?

What a fragile, delicate ghost.

“Fine, fine,” Tan Xueci’s pale ears had completely turned crimson as he offered a concession. “I’ll let you do it one more time. Only once.”

He Xunye let out another low chuckle, though the smile vanished the moment he lifted his head.

The fierce ghost’s long eyelashes drooped, its fingertips resting against his wife’s soft chest. Its voice turned low and hoarse as it spoke with absolute obedience, “Baby, can I bite this one more time too?”

“…”

A watery mist instantly flooded Tan Xueci’s eyes as he bit his lip in deep shame. But if he didn’t treat his husband well, who else would? Ultimately, he offered a small nod.

“Thank you, Baby,” the fierce ghost’s dark peach-blossom eyes curved with delight as it tilted its head up to press against his lips.

The male ghost’s shoulders were broad, his muscles rock-hard. As Tan Xueci was pinned beneath his weight, his mind drifted into a slight daze.

He felt as though something was fundamentally amiss.

I shouldn’t be feeling bad for He Xunye. I should be feeling bad for myself first! I’m busy worrying over this male ghost, but who’s going to worry over my own backside?!

Beside them, the cloth doll had been startled awake by their antics, thumping about blindly. Catching the doll’s pitch-black, beady button eyes staring straight at them, Tan Xueci’s face instantly flushed a violent crimson. Reaching out like he was playing a game of Whack-A-Mole, he delivered a sharp punch that sent it flying downward.

“What should we do, Baby? The child wants to nurse,” the fierce ghost’s voice was muffled, sounding as though it were actively devouring a treat. Lifting its head, its dark eyes gleamed with a lingering smile as it murmured, “Shall I teach Baby how to feed me?”

Tan Xueci no longer wished to speak a single word to him. He raised his arm to block his burning face; no matter how one chose to nurse, there was absolutely no reason to have one’s legs spread wide apart like this.

Tan Xueci had no idea what time he finally drifted off to sleep. When he woke up the following morning, he immediately headed back to the film set. With the end of the year approaching, the shooting schedule was exceptionally frantic.

Having spent over a month inside the illusion, stepping back out felt a bit like an eternity had passed, making it seem as though he hadn’t been to the set in ages. Fortunately, his memory was impeccable; he still retained all his lines perfectly, sparing him from having to memorize them all over again.

Yu He had managed to unearth some details regarding Daoist Fan, so He Xunye headed out to accompany him in tracking the man down.

Today, Tan Xueci was scheduled to shoot several pivotal scenes where the older brother, Yan Chengzhang, concludes his time as a political hostage and reunites with his younger brother, Yan Chengzhao, for the first time upon returning to the Kingdom of Yan.

Yan Chengzhang deeply missed his younger brother, fully expecting that his brother had missed him just as intensely. Yet he never anticipated that the moment his younger brother returned to the imperial bedchambers, he would spiral into absolute madness.

Once Tan Xueci finished filming Yan Chengzhang’s portions, the makeup artist deepened the shadows around his eyes, creating a subtle, smoky effect while blending out his lip color into a pale, sickly shade, projecting an aura of intense gloom and decadence.

Yan Chengzhao had secretly hidden an outer robe belonging to his brother. As night fell and the imperial chambers were illuminated by a faint, flickering candlelight, he banished all the palace attendants. Wrapping himself in his brother’s outer robe, his dark hair cascading loosely over his shoulders, he walked back and forth across the chambers with bare feet.

His and his brother’s imperial mother had perished during the brutal infighting of the harem. His maternal uncle, who originally held the position of Minister within the imperial court, had also been targeted and killed following their mother’s death. The remaining advisors and strategists had only ever offered their respect to his older brother; whenever a major crisis arose, they would only consult his brother, treating him like a mere child.

But he and Yan Chengzhang were exactly the same age! What was the difference between them?! Why did everyone have to treat him this way!

He envied Yan Chengzhang to the point of absolute madness. Yet their mother was already dead; the person who treated him best in this entire world was his brother. His brother was essentially his second mother. Thus, he simultaneously loved him to the point of utter insanity.

Clutching his brother’s outer robe, his waist deeply hunched over, he buried his face into the fabric as tears streamed continuously down his cheeks. He would weep, then let out a manic laugh, alternating between laughter and tears in a thoroughly unstable, pathological display.

This type of character was exceptionally difficult to portray. Going over the top would result in a cartoonish, exaggerated performance, yet being too reserved would fail to convey that underlying madness.

Tan Xueci executed it flawlessly. Portraying this type of lunatic was second nature to him, consistently nailing it in a single take, leaving even the director marvelling in amazement.

Truth be told, the type of lunatic Tan Xueci portrayed was the sort where, the moment you locked eyes with him, you would feel a sudden wave of terror that he might abruptly smile at you or rush forward to strike you. Yet his features were inherently cold and ethereal; with such a beautiful madman, one would feel that even receiving a slap from him would be a fragrant blessing.

The scene was filmed with absolute fluidity. The moment the director yelled cut, the entire set erupted into thunderous applause, everyone thoroughly captivated by the performance.

Slipping into a quiet, deserted corner of the set, Tan Xueci originally intended to send a text to his husband to brag about how everyone was praising him. However, the moment he lifted his head, his eyes caught sight of Xiao An’s little canary.

Lan Ke had just finished changing his attire, with his own scene scheduled next. In a quiet corner of the set, he had been intercepted by a middle-aged couple. Tan Xueci examined them closely, realizing they appeared to be Xiao An’s parents.

Initially, he assumed Xiao An’s parents had discovered their son was keeping a little lover and, being dissatisfied with Lan Ke, had come to cause trouble—perhaps offering him several million to leave their son, a classic trope Tan Xueci frequently witnessed in television dramas.

Yet, to his surprise, Xiao An’s mother suddenly raised her hand to gently wipe the sweat from Lan Ke’s brow, her demeanor incredibly affectionate and nurturing, as if Lan Ke were her actual son.

Tan Xueci knitted his brows, watching the scene for a long while before finally realizing that Xiao An was actually standing right behind them. The body-double ritual had yet to be fully completed; though Xiao An had previously maintained the outward appearance of a living person, his complexion was now deathly pale, heavily coated in an aura of death.

Before Tan Xueci could fully make sense of the confusing situation, He Xunye’s phone call buzzed through, causing him to immediately push Xiao An to the back of his mind.

He spent a brief moment murmuring and showing off to his husband over the line, receiving a barrage of praise. He Xunye then inquired, “What time is Baby coming home tonight?”

Only then did Tan Xueci realize he had forgotten to inform He Xunye. He reported in a low murmur, “I’m not coming home tonight. I have to attend a gala in a few days and need to rehearse, so I’ll be staying at a hotel with Brother Lu.”

The production company behind Traversing the Wilds had produced several variety shows, ranging from travel programs to dating shows, all of them massively successful. Every year near the end of December, they would host a joint gala featuring guests from these various shows, broadcasted live with massive viewership.

Tan Xueci was scheduled to perform a song on stage.

“What is Baby going to sing?” He Xunye let out a low chuckle on the other end of the line. The man’s deep, resonant voice sent a wave of heat straight to Tan Xueci’s ear-tips as he teased, “Are you going to sing ‘I am a Little Lamb’?”

Tan Xueci: “…”

Sing to your dead ghostly self.

His face burning, Tan Xueci hung up the phone in a fit of pique. He Xunye promptly bombarded him with a dozen follow-up messages, calling him “Baby” left and right without end, though the youth chose to ignore them completely.

Once he wrapped up his duties, he headed out to rehearse alongside Lu Xi. By the time rehearsals concluded around ten in the evening and they returned to the hotel, he caught sight of He Xunye, Yu He, and that Daoist Fan standing downstairs.

Daoist Fan was already in his late seventies or eighties, appearing thoroughly ancient and withered. Now, even his wrinkles seemed heavily swollen, his eyes bloodshot as he stared intently at the group before him.

Specifically, at Tan Xueci.

Previously while at the hospital, his sole focus had been tracking down that ghost doctor to prevent the entity from being captured and exposing his murderous deeds. Now, he finally took a proper, close look at Tan Xueci.

“So it was you…” Daoist Fan’s pupils trembled violently, his gaze locked dead onto Tan Xueci as he choked out, “You’re actually still alive…”

Over twenty years ago, a woman holding a young child in her arms had approached him with a divination stick she had drawn at a temple, asking him to decipher its meaning.

The moment he laid eyes on that stick, he knew something was fundamentally wrong. Though life-swapping rituals had existed since ancient times, how could a divine deity ever offer such dark guidance? The woman had likely offered prayers to some unclean entity.

However, the woman promised him a sum of 300,000. For the sake of financial gain, he revealed the precise method for executing a body-double death swap to her.

Noting the deep shadow of misfortune over her countenance back then, the thought had crossed his mind that she might fail. And sure enough—the one who was meant to die remained alive, while the one meant to live had perished.

While Yu He was still in the middle of pressing Daoist Fan regarding exactly how he had murdered those individuals, Daoist Fan suddenly erupted into a fit of loud, manic laughter, as if hit by a sudden, violent affliction, causing Yu He to instinctively leap backward.

Daoist Fan tilted his head back, laughing for a long moment before his breath suddenly caught, collapsing straight to the ground as he drew his final breath.

“f*ck.” Yu He hurriedly moved to harvest the man’s soul. However, given the numerous human lives this man had taken, his soul was instantly struck by divine retribution, shattering completely into dust amidst a chorus of agonizing shrieks.

Tan Xueci knitted his brows, utterly confused by the meaning behind Daoist Fan’s final words, as he had absolutely no recollection of ever meeting this person.

He Xunye stared at the pile of ash on the ground, seemingly lost in thought, though he refrained from speaking.

Yu He cursed under his breath for a moment, utterly frustrated that their efforts had gone down the drain. He had no choice but to shift his focus toward investigating the individuals surrounding Xiao An.

It required a total of seven individuals to successfully bring Xiao An back from the dead, and they were currently short by one. The Xiao family would likely be forced to take matters into their own hands now; tracking them would be far simpler than investigating a rogue practitioner.

He Xunye didn’t accompany Yu He that evening, feeling deeply uneasy about Tan Xueci staying outside by himself.

Even if He Wuling attempted to stir up trouble back at the He estate, knowing he was absent, He Wuling wouldn’t dare unleash any truly preposterous entities into the residence. Furthermore, with He Pinglan present, things were far more secure.

Following Tan Xueci upstairs, He Xunye discovered that Tan Xueci and Lu Xi had only booked a single room.

Facing the fierce ghost’s deathly pale, terrifying countenance, Lu Xi instantly lost his nerve, abandoning Tan Xueci as he scurried away as fast as his legs could carry him.

“It’s a suite,” Tan Xueci explained after entering, sitting at the edge of the mattress as he held up two fingers, waving them before He Xunye’s eyes with a blink. “There are two separate bedrooms.”

He Xunye maintained a dark expression, clearly thoroughly displeased as he pinned him against the headboard, burying himself into his embrace without a word.

What’s wrong now, brother?

Tan Xueci attempted to explain that Lu Xi harbored absolutely no romantic intentions toward him, nor would he ever sneak into his bed in the middle of the night to do anything to him.

Had he wished to do so, he would have done it ages ago; back when he first left the Tan household, he frequently shared accommodations with Lu Xi.

“Then why is he envious of me?” He Xunye’s brows knitted together, the fierce ghost’s dark eyes heavily weighted, clearly filled with absolute loathing for Lu Xi. His voice slightly hoarse, he complained to his wife, “Every single time he sees me, he secretly rolls his eyes.”

Tan Xueci: “…”

Is it possible he simply dislikes you?

“He’s envious of me,” He Xunye lowered his head, biting down on one of the buttons at Tan Xueci’s chest before lifting his eyelashes to gaze at him, murmuring indistinctly, “He’s definitely going to secretly watch Baby sleep tonight.”

Since he was already watching him, could sneakily touching him be far behind? Perhaps his mind was already mapping out plans to sneak a kiss.

These disgusting men.

A violent, malicious aura surfaced across the fierce ghost’s pale, gloomy face, a faint crimson glint seeping into his eyes.

Tan Xueci felt a powerful urge to slap him again, his head throbbing as he exasperatedly asked, “Why on earth would he secretly watch me?”

“Why wouldn’t he watch you?” the fierce ghost’s voice was deeply weighted. “How could he possibly restrain himself?” As he spoke, a sudden wave of anger seemed to wash over him, tightening his grip around Tan Xueci’s waist as he buried his face into the youth’s embrace, tilting his eyes upward to gaze at him as he growled, “I certainly can’t restrain myself.”

Tan Xueci: “…”

Why don’t you ask yourself that question?

Tan Xueci felt he was rapidly losing his own restraint as well. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that He Xunye was incredibly cowardly; he couldn’t simply wallop his husband every single day. Things were already like this anyway, it wasn’t as if they could get a divorce.

“Baby always has so many men surrounding him,” the dead spirit grumbled unreasonably, tightening his grip with an inscrutable tone.

Discerning the underlying implication, Tan Xueci lowered his head to look at him. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

“…” The fierce ghost fell silent for a brief second, ultimately unable to hold back. His dark eyes were obscured by the shadows, his words carrying a hint of gnashing teeth alongside a faint trace of resentment as he murmured, “What did you do with him back at the temple? I want that too.”

Tan Xueci never anticipated He Xunye would still be fixated on that matter. Letting out a few silent, wicked chuckles inside, he reached out to pat the dead spirit’s freezing, firm backside, murmuring deeply, “I bent him over. You want that too?”

The moment Tan Xueci’s hand touched him, He Xunye’s body turned slightly rigid, as if some sacred taboo had been violated. Hearing the youth’s words, his expression stiffened completely as he lifted his head to gaze at his wife.

Yet Tan Xueci’s beautiful little face betrayed absolutely no trace of guilt or hesitation, looking for all the world as though he truly had bent a man over before.

The fierce ghost had no choice but to concede that the variant back at Qilian Temple was indeed himself; reflecting on it, if Tan Xueci truly desired it, that past self likely wouldn’t have refused.

Catching the man’s expression alongside those firmly pursed, thin lips, Tan Xueci let out a wicked laugh for a moment before pressing against the man’s chest, straddling his lap.

The fierce ghost’s freezing breath suddenly hitched.

“Only this,” Tan Xueci lowered his head to gaze at him, his voice slightly hoarse. “Are you sure you want it too?”

He Xunye was clearly a man who never refused an offer, leaving Tan Xueci instantly regretting his actions a bit. Why do I keep rewarding this dead spirit day in and day out?

Furthermore, He Xunye wasn’t completely silent throughout the process like his younger self had been. The man sounded as though he were muffled against something, letting out occasional low chuckles, sweeping his freezing breath over him as he hoarsely commanded him to shift slightly, or telling him, ‘Baby can just treat me like the corner of a table.’

He Xunye spoke far too much. Tan Xueci, thoroughly embarrassed by his words, delivered a light slap across his face, turning the man’s face toward him as he lowered his head and snapped, “Can you use your mouth for something else instead?”

His eyelashes trembling, He Xunye let out a soft affirmation from the depths of his throat before Tan Xueci finally released his grip.

In the quiet depths of the night, as Tan Xueci attempted to slide back down, He Xunye caught him by the wrist, pinning himself against the youth’s back. His voice was low and hoarse as he inquired, “Am I better than him?”

Tan Xueci bit his lip, remaining silent. He Xunye’s dark, melancholic peach-blossom eyes drooped as he gazed at him, refraining from speaking further as well.

Ultimately, he could no longer act with the absolute, reckless abandon of a teenager, clinging to his wife to act spoiled. Furthermore, he was intimately aware that his temperament during life had been exceptionally bizarre—to say nothing of his state after death. It was entirely natural for Tan Xueci to not harbor immense affection for him.

The corners of He Xunye’s lips, rubbed flushed and red, curved upward. A few strands of the man’s dark hair fell loosely across his brow. His elegant, handsome face appeared thoroughly stained and disheveled at this moment. Just as he was about to speak, Tan Xueci suddenly cupped his disheveled face, planting several loud, wet kisses across his features.

Tan Xueci gazed at him with wide, earnest eyes. Because He Xunye had consistently looked after him, he had seemingly grown accustomed to it, failing to realize that He Xunye would also experience insecurity, repeatedly testing his boundaries.

He simply wants to know if he is my absolute favorite ghost.

His face flushed, Tan Xueci possessed a limited vocabulary and couldn’t formulate beautifully eloquent words, choosing instead to simply shower him with reckless kisses.

The fierce ghost’s gaze softened completely, tilting his head up to watch him as his wife’s soft lips rained down upon his face.

While the two of them were busy kissing, Lu Xi finally lost his patience, knocking miserably on the door from outside in the biting cold.

It’s freezing.

This hotel was exceptionally expensive, and he couldn’t afford to book a separate room, having already waited outside for an eternity.

Can’t I just lie under the bed without making a sound?!

Tan Xueci originally intended to head out and open the door, but He Xunye coiled around him once more like a clammy, freezing serpent, murmuring against his ear, “Little Xue, I’m sick. I have a fever and can’t handle the draft.”

Tan Xueci: ???

He turned back to glare at He Xunye. The depths of the fierce ghost’s eyes still carried a trace of crimson born of overexcitement; acting rowdy is more like it.

“Really,” noting the youth’s skepticism, He Xunye took his hand and pressed it firmly against his chest muscles, stating, “Ghosts can fall ill too. If you don’t believe me, feel it for yourself. My body is exceptionally cold.”

Tan Xueci examined him suspiciously, feeling that he did indeed seem slightly colder than usual.

However, fearing Lu Xi might actually freeze to death, he ultimately went ahead and booked a separate room for him. Lu Xi turned and stormed away in a huff, his hands mimicking the spiritual gestures he had seen Yu He perform, attempting to see if he could exorcise He Xunye on the spot.

Before he could even complete the gesture, a pale, ghostly hand heavily coated in a dark aura of death materialized before his eyes, helping him pull the door open before delivering a sharp push that sent him tumbling straight inside, slamming the door shut with a resounding bang.

Lu Xi was thrown flat to the floor, nearly snapping his cervical vertebrae from the impact, breaking out into a cold sweat from the sheer terror.

The following day marked New Year’s Day. Tan Xueci had to rise early in the morning to attend rehearsals, preparing for the live broadcast scheduled that evening. When Lu Xi came to fetch him, He Xunye also slid out of bed, intending to accompany him.

Tan Xueci hurriedly pressed the man straight back into the covers.

With a solemn little face, he reached out to feel He Xunye’s forehead. He had absolutely no idea how to diagnose a sick ghost; terrified He Xunye’s condition might worsen, he wanted him to remain at the hotel to continue resting.

“I can’t sleep,” the fierce ghost’s chilling eyes lifted to gaze at him, the blanket sliding down to reveal a partial silhouette of his chest muscles. Coiling his finger around Tan Xueci’s, he murmured hoarsely, “Don’t leave.”

Tan Xueci felt a wave of anxiety. He still had a household to support; though He Xunye had provided him with an immense fortune, He Xunye was ultimately dead and couldn’t earn any further income moving forward, leaving him with a deep sense of financial crisis.

“Will Little Xue leave a piece of clothing behind to keep me company?” He Xunye turned over, his damp, alluring peach-blossom eyes fixed on him, his eyelashes trembling in a thoroughly pitiful display. “Otherwise, I’ll be scared.”

Tan Xueci originally intended to fetch a jacket for him. But before he could step away, the man’s long fingers had already hooked onto the edge of his underwear, a smile gracing his lips as he murmured, “Will Little Xue leave this for me instead?”

Tan Xueci: “…”

Go die.

His face burning a furious red, Tan Xueci slapped He Xunye’s hand away, ultimately settling for tossing his own pajamas to the ghost.

As Tan Xueci prepared to head out, He Xunye sat up on the bed. The fierce ghost’s dark eyes fixed onto his departing wife before he lowered his head, burying his entire face deep into the youth’s fragrant, soft pajamas. This was the exact pair Tan Xueci had worn the previous evening and had yet to be laundered; inhaling the faint scent of sweat clinging to the fabric, he found even the youth’s sweat tasted incredibly sweet.

Having forgotten an item, Lu Xi stepped back inside to help retrieve it, only to witness the fierce ghost completely bare-chested from the waist up, his face buried deep within his wife’s pajamas, his shoulders trembling slightly as if he were laughing.

He was nearly frightened out of his wits, scurrying back out as fast as his legs could carry him, shivering as he asked Tan Xueci, “What on earth is the deal with that husband of yours? Why isn’t he coming along?”

And why is he guarding that messy bed like an absolute pervert?

Lu Xi couldn’t even bear to look at it; one glance at that mattress made it abundantly clear that absolutely no good deeds had been committed last night, leaving him thoroughly exasperated.

“He’s sick,” Tan Xueci explained in a matter-of-fact tone. “He has a fever and can’t get out of bed.”

Lu Xi: “…”

Lu Xi: ???

Lu Xi’s pupils instantly suffered a massive tremor. He had consistently assumed He Xunye was his son-in-law; he never anticipated the ghost was actually the daughter-in-law?!

He sized up Tan Xueci’s slight, slender frame, a profound wave of admiration spontaneously welling up inside his chest. He never imagined his family’s Little Lamb could be this incredibly capable.

Tan Xueci stared at Lu Xi in utter bewilderment, completely unable to comprehend what he was grinning about. Throughout the entire drive to the production set, Lu Xi would periodically burst into sudden, random fits of laughter, looking for all the world like he was suffering a mental breakdown.

When rehearsals paused for a lunch break midday, Lu Xi excitedly presented him with a massive container of stewed meat.

The moment Tan Xueci opened it, he noticed it contained mutton, alongside some long, curved pieces of meat that he couldn’t quite identify.

He picked up a piece with his chopsticks and took a bite, only for Lu Xi to chime in affectionately from the side, “Eat up, eat up. Replenish what you use.”

Eat your fill so you can go back tonight and drive that dead spirit straight into the mattress.

“?” Realizing something was amiss, Tan Xueci knitted his brows and inquired, “What exactly is this?”

Lu Xi raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Sheep whip.”

Tan Xueci: “…”

Tan Xueci’s face dropped completely, tossing it aside on the spot. Lu Xi let out a pained shriek, hurriedly moving to salvage it, though Tan Xueci remained completely unmoved.

What disgusting humans.

To actually eat a little sheep’s member.

The live broadcast commenced promptly at eight in the evening. They were filming right along the coastline; though it was bitingly cold, the visual effect of the midnight fireworks display would be spectacular. The program kicked off with an interactive segment featuring the guests, with Qin Shuyao and Zhang Chengfa also in attendance.

Qin Shuyao had not only participated in Traversing the Wilds, but was also a cast member on another highly successful dating variety show.

Every year during this joint gala, the dating show segment featured a grand confession ceremony. Tan Xueci watched as one of the male guests approached Qin Shuyao holding a massive bouquet of red roses, the two sharing a warm embrace against the backdrop of the night sea.

Tan Xueci felt a trace of envy. He also harbored a deep fondness for red roses; he simply adored that specific brand of extravagant romance. If someone were to present him with an entire truckload of roses, it would make him feel exceptionally precious and cherished.

He snapped a quick photograph and sent it to He Xunye, though he didn’t dare explicitly state that he wanted flowers. The dead spirit’s thought patterns were fundamentally different from ordinary people; he was terrified He Xunye might end up presenting him with a literal bouquet of human brains.

To his surprise, He Xunye took the initiative to message him back.

[He Xunye: Baby doesn’t want them?]

To display such extravagance is practically begging for trouble!

Tan Xueci sent back a voice note, lecturing He Xunye for not knowing how to manage a proper household budget, commanding him not to compete with others.

Every single time he delivered these solemn lectures to He Xunye, his words not only carried an ancient, traditional weight, but even possessed a slight paternal tone. Had it been anyone else, they likely would have rolled their eyes at him, yet He Xunye would simply chuckle every single time.

Tan Xueci had absolutely no idea what he found so amusing.

Previously, many of the ghosts he encountered also consistently displayed smiles, leaving him with the distinct impression that everyone became incredibly cheerful once they died.

While Tan Xueci was still bickering back and forth with He Xunye, Lu Xi’s expression suddenly shifted beside him. Shoving his phone before Tan Xueci’s eyes, he blurted out, “What on earth is going on? You and Tan Yanning have trended on the hot search!”

Tan Xueci froze for a moment, lowering his head to examine the screen. He couldn’t quite decipher the dense text, so Lu Xi read through it and summarized the details for him.

Tan Yanning was an exceptionally popular content creator in his own right, frequently posting educational videos regarding folklore and local customs, boasting a massive following. Coupled with Tan Xueci’s recent surge in popularity, internet users had begun digging into the background of the Tan family.

Consequently, they discovered that Tan Yanning was a graduate student at the capital’s top university, whereas Tan Xueci possessed absolutely no academic records whatsoever—he was entirely untraceable across any educational institution.

Furthermore, some individuals who claimed to possess insider information began circulating rumors that He Xunye’s original arranged marriage partner was actually supposed to be Tan Yanning.

[Yanning minored in folklore at university, right? If I recall correctly, Professor He also taught folklore courses. It’s highly likely he attended Professor He’s classes and they knew each other beforehand.]

[I remember Yanning mentioned an older brother once; he just smiled and didn’t expand further. It felt a bit odd at the time. Also, *Traversing the Wilds* originally invited Yanning, didn’t they? Right before filming started, it suddenly switched to Tan Xueci. The more you think about it, the more terrifying it gets.]

[I get it. I have a younger sibling who constantly loves stealing my things. Some siblings truly feel like they were born to be mortal enemies, unable to stand seeing you possess anything good.]

…

Coupled with the fact that Tan Yanning had previously been hospitalized due to a car accident, his complexion had appeared slightly pale when he resumed updating his account. He had issued an apology to his followers, leaving his fan base feeling immensely protective and sympathetic.

Gradually, users began flooding the live stream comments to stir up a commotion.

In reality, following the conclusion of filming for Entanglement, Tan Xueci’s popularity had skyrocketed, his fan base vastly outnumbering Tan Yanning’s. However, once the issue touched upon a lack of academic credentials, Tan Xueci’s anti-fans, alongside curious onlookers, swarmed in droves, digging up further details.

[Wow, I discovered he truly has never attended a single day of school. How can someone’s academic record be cleaner than my own face?]

[Then there must be something seriously fishy about his marriage to the dead spirit brother. Why on earth would an arranged marriage be set up for him? Do these two individuals share a single shred of common ground?]

Tan Yanning had consistently maintained a gentle, cultured public image, producing highly educational content while possessing a very refined countenance.

Tan Xueci’s features, by contrast, were intensely striking and striking. Had it not been for his daily eccentric antics and tendency to weep over the slightest thing, his appearance would actually carry a powerful sense of sharp, cold allure.

In an instant, even individuals who weren’t fans of Tan Yanning began expressing sympathy for him, demanding Tan Xueci step forward to clarify whether he had stolen Tan Yanning’s slot on the variety show alongside his husband. The comment section of the live stream was rapidly devolved into an absolute mess.

To make matters worse, some individuals even went as far as to suggest that Tan Yanning’s car accident might have been orchestrated by him. The Tan family qualified as a minor affluent clan, and orchestrating a car accident during a bitter inheritance dispute didn’t seem entirely far-fetched.

Tan Xueci’s ears buzzed frantically. Why is everyone suddenly bringing these things up out of nowhere? He felt absolute certainty that Tan Yanning must be pulling the strings from behind the scenes yet again. Seeing that He Xunye liked him and treated him well, Tan Yanning was clearly attempting to snatch away his husband, just as he had done with their parents and older brothers.

Tan Xueci snapped to his feet, intending to track down Tan Yanning directly. However, since the evening live broadcast had yet to conclude, Lu Xi hurriedly held him back, refusing to let him leave. While they were still deadlocked, Qin Shuyao rushed over and nudged him, pointing toward the area behind the crowd.

Turning his gaze, he finally spotted He Xunye standing a short distance away, though he had no idea when the man had arrived.

Since He Xunye had also been a guest on the previous show, the director instructed the camera crew to pan over and include him in the shot.

[Holy crap, brother, when did you get here? You scared another thunderbolt out of me. Can you please stop spawning out of nowhere like a literal male ghost every single time?]

[I can’t take this anymore, Old He truly gives off massive ghostly vibes.]

[Brother is out here putting on a live performance of A Chinese Ghost Story.]

The ocean waters appeared pitch-black under the night sky, with the production lighting concentrated entirely over the main cast members.

The specific spot where He Xunye stood was completely devoid of lighting. He also happened to be wearing a long, black wool overcoat, his deep, striking features thoroughly submerged within the boundless night, blending seamlessly into the darkness.

Had he not been cradling a massive, heavy bouquet of red roses in his arms, Qin Shuyao likely wouldn’t have noticed his presence at all.

The production crew, true to form, never backed down from a potential controversy.

Given that the comments had spiraled to such an extent, disrupting the regular flow of the live stream, and considering the evening already featured elements from the dating show, the director simply arranged for a staff member to conduct an impromptu interview with He Xunye.

Since He Xunye had made the effort to show up, he would undoubtedly stand up for Tan Xueci. Furthermore, during the previous variety show, when Tan Xueci had grown drowsy while eating and leaned into He Xunye’s embrace, He Xunye looked for all the world as though he wished he could manually chew the food for him—a classic case of an older man completely smitten, guarding his young wife like the absolute apple of his eye. Thus, the director felt immensely confident.

He fully expected He Xunye would offer a romantic confession to comfort his wife.

Yet the moment the microphone was handed over and the staff member inquired about Tan Yanning, a faint smile graced He Xunye’s lips. The words that left his mouth were exceptionally biting and cruel, “Why on earth would I know who he is? His GPA isn’t even a 5.0. What’s the difference between him and an illiterate? Is he even qualified to attend my classes?”

Tan Yanning might have caught sight of him or known who he was, but he possessed absolutely no recollection of such an individual existing.

The comment section, which had been locked in a fierce argument just moments ago, instantly fell dead silent. Anyone who had ever attended university stared at the screen as if they had witnessed an actual phantom.

[???]

[Excuse me, isn’t a perfect GPA literally a 5.0? Then what am I with my 4.8? A barnyard animal?]

[Professor, the wind up on the rooftop is exceptionally heavy tonight. Do you hear it? Hahaha, I just stepped up to the roof and discovered it’s already packed with people. *hollow_laugh_not_a_smile.jpg*]

[Speak human words please, brother, before I take a leap to solve all my worldly sorrows.]

[Perfect, perfect, look at how he absolutely dotes on our little master’s wife.]

[Little master’s wife? What’s the difference between that and a little stepmother? Father, you won’t mind if I sleep with Mother tonight, right? *bashful.jpg*]

[Wait a minute, Little Xue doesn’t even possess a GPA. May I ask how you plan to resolve this? *divorce_warning.jpg*]

He Xunye lifted his eyes. Still cradling that heavy bouquet of roses in his arms, his gaze locked onto Tan Xueci across the crowd as he added, “I don’t know about any of that. All I know is that I resigned my position solely to become his home-wrecker.”

He Xunye’s sudden resignation had caught everyone by surprise, and none of his students had been aware of the underlying reason. Hearing his words now, the comment section exploded completely, a massive wave of question marks flooding the screen.

[Stop, stop, stop, brother, I’m literally going to throw glutinous rice at you to exorcise this energy. Withdraw your divine techniques.]

[Talk about double standards. No one else is even worthy of attending your classes, yet your wife knows absolutely nothing and you’re still willing to become a home-wrecker for love?]

[Uh, can I say it out loud? Tan Yanning’s fans look like absolute clowns right now. The man didn’t even factor Tan Yanning into his reality.]

Standing nearby, the director felt as though his cerebral cortex had been thoroughly flattened. His face filled with absolute disbelief, he stammered, “Mr. He, what did you just say?”

“I said,” He Xunye’s dark peach-blossom eyes curved, his lips tilting upward, “I originally intended to become his home-wrecker. Unfortunately, the family happened to set up an arranged meeting just in time, so I lost the opportunity.”

[You actually sound quite disappointed (?) ]

[Home-wrecker brother, you truly won this round.]

Numerous users began tagging He Sui in the comments, commanding him to observe this level of dedication—stating that only a man with this mindset could successfully win over his wife.

Tan Xueci, who had been simmering with rage just moments prior, felt as though he might actually faint upon hearing He Xunye’s words. His face flushed a violent crimson as he stood there helplessly, completely mortified by the preposterous remarks leaving the ghost’s mouth.

The comment section was practically dying of laughter.

[Thank you to the ex-husband brother, thank you to the arranged marriage, thank you to a grateful heart, thank you to destiny.]

[Don’t do this, I’m literally about to burst into song. *dying_of_laughter.jpg*]

[A romantic brain is a man’s finest dowry.]

[Help, I laughed so hard my soul nearly left my body! Wait, holy crap! Something seems to be hanging outside my window. I just let out a sudden, explosive laugh, and it instantly lost its grip and fell downward.]

Someone promptly replied to that specific comment.

[Could it be a window-hanging spirit? I heard there’s a type of ghost that specifically loves hanging outside windows in the dead of night.]

[Ahhh don’t scare me, is that real? Then what should I do? Will it climb back up?]

The user who had posted the initial reply was merely joking around, choosing not to terrify the individual further.

[Don’t worry about it. Just turn up the volume of the live stream. Even a ghost would be driven away by how smooth this man is. *roll_eyes.jpg*]

The comments dissolved into another wave of cheerful laughter. Whether it was the drama surrounding Tan Yanning or Tan Xueci’s seemingly problematic academic record, barely anyone cared about those issues anymore following this display.

Tan Xueci watched with wide eyes as He Xunye strode straight toward him, reaching out to firmly grasp his hand.

The guests were scheduled to relocate to a different shooting location along the coastline for the remainder of the evening’s filming.

The bouquet of roses He Xunye had purchased was exceptionally large, making it slightly cumbersome to carry. He casually hoisted it over his shoulder, utilizing his other hand to guide Tan Xueci forward beneath the bright, silvery moonlight reflecting off the ocean waves.

Perhaps because the moonlight was exceptionally gentle tonight, the pale, icy aura of death enveloping He Xunye’s features had softened considerably. With his broad shoulders and long legs, the hem of his overcoat fluttered gracefully against the ocean breeze.

Having spent a long moment composedly spouting absolute nonsense directly into the camera lens, he turned his head to look at Tan Xueci, his dark peach-blossom eyes brimming with a deep, smiling warmth—looking for all the world like he was actively waiting for his wife to offer him some words of praise.

He was, after all, only in his twenties. It was a rare display of such a vibrant, unrestrained side of his personality, making him appear exceptionally youthful and handsome.

Tan Xueci didn’t dare contemplate what He Xunye might have been like had he never endured those tragedies. Though his words likely would have remained just as provocative, he undoubtedly would have been far more high-spirited and radiant. After all, He Xunye was a once-in-a-century natural prodigy; he was meant to live an exceptionally smooth and prosperous life.

Tan Xueci stared blankly at He Xunye’s retreating figure.

The man I love was once a bright, radiant youth as well.

The comment section had completely succumbed to the romance, swooning over their interaction, entirely forgetting that Tan Xueci was supposedly a little illiterate.

[This romance is giving me life! Don’t mind me, Father and Mother, I have officially been born. *clings_to_leg_and_weeps.jpg*]

[Our Little Xue Tonight couple is absolutely unmatched!!!]

Back when the initial variety show was still airing, some users had already established a dedicated fan page for Tan Xueci and He Xunye, naming it “Little Xue Tonight.”

Perhaps because the ocean breeze sweeping across the shore tonight lent an exceptionally heart-stirring quality to the visual display, the couple’s popularity metric skyrocketed rapidly, clinching the number one trending spot in the blink of an eye.

[But speaking in all seriousness, I truly hope the professor finds absolute happiness. I constantly feel as though I caught sight of him when I was a young child. I used to have a recurring dream where I would look up at Qilian Temple during the late hours and witness a massive red lotus flower blooming across the sky. I used to cry constantly in my sleep as a kid, terrified of something unknown, but the moment I saw that flower, the fear would vanish completely. It’s the exact same feeling every time I see the professor; it instantly triggers the memory of those childhood dreams.]

[The dead spirit brother is actually an incredibly good person at core. Though he possesses a sharp tongue, a stern face, and a slightly dark disposition—uh, listing it out makes it sound like he has zero virtues, apologies dead spirit brother… but he has never once intentionally delayed a student’s graduation. Anyone who has pursued a PhD intimately understands the sheer value of that trait.]

[Yes, yes, exactly! I remember one time I suffered a complete breakdown while writing my thesis. It was past eleven at night when I ran over to the base of his dormitory building to find him. It was honestly a terrible thing to do, but he didn’t display a shred of anger. He simply handed me a talisman paper. At the time, I assumed it was some sort of protective blessing, but he merely let out a cold sneer and remarked that the garbage I had written looked exactly like ghostly chicken scratch. I was so infuriated that I completely forgot to cry, rushing straight back to write aggressively. But weirdly enough, I had been suffering from terrible sleep and was in an awful state during that period, yet following that exact night, I was suddenly able to sleep perfectly, and my thesis was completed in record time. I still keep that talisman to this day.]

[The dead spirit brother also never joined us for any departmental dinners, and he barely spoke to anyone at school. He looks so genuinely happy whenever he’s alongside Little Xue; I’ve never seen him smile this many times before.]

[Say no more, wishing Father and Mother a blissful union that lasts a hundred years.]

The comments were flooded with wishes for a “blissful union lasting a hundred years.” It was a standard, commonplace blessing, yet given that humans could fulfill a hundred years of union while a dead spirit possessed no such lifespan, the words carried a deeply melancholic ring.

As the joint gala reached its final segment, the dating show portion transitioned into the ultimate confession ceremony. Some participants were already married, some were actively dating, and others were still in the middle of pursuing their love interests—each required to deliver a heartfelt confession to their partner. This segment was always highly anticipated every year.

There were instances where couples who previously seemed entirely hopeless suddenly ended up together, alongside married couples who, after declining a confession under the illumination of the coastal fireworks, resolved to go their separate ways for the remainder of their lives.

In truth, He Xunye didn’t quite know how he should handle this situation. He was utterly incapable of leaving Tan Xueci’s side, yet he was intimately aware that he was a ghost—one who might fade away entirely one day. If Tan Xueci fell deeply in love with him, the youth would undoubtedly endure immense grief when that day arrived. He shouldn’t allow himself to get too close; whether it was fondness or love, the words became exceptionally difficult to voice aloud.

Yet, he selfishly craved to experience a proper romance with Tan Xueci. Even if he ultimately perished and dissolved into nothingness, he would eternally remain Tan Xueci’s late husband, a status absolutely no one could ever erase.

He wanted Tan Xueci to remember him forever.

Even if there would eventually be other individuals surrounding Tan Xueci in the future, he wanted to ensure he remained the most pivotal figure anchored within the youth’s memories.

“…I love you,” He Xunye finally spoke, lifting the bouquet of flowers in his hands to present them to Tan Xueci. The man’s gaze was incredibly gentle as he looked at him, murmuring, “Little Lamb, will you come home with me?”

Not far from where the guests stood, a large display monitor was set up, reminding the participants that if the counterparty failed to offer a verbal response, it would be deemed a rejection, indicating the precise moment they should turn and walk away.

He Xunye waited for a long moment, yet Tan Xueci’s face merely flushed a deep red as he remained utterly speechless. The surrounding guests and production staff began cheering and egging them on, causing Tan Xueci’s face to turn increasingly crimson.

He reached out to cradle the massive bouquet of roses, yet he refrained from uttering a single word.

He Xunye gazed at him for a brief moment before choosing not to press him further. Adhering to the production crew’s guidelines, he turned around to walk away.

The comments instantly filled with playful mockery.

[It’s over, it’s over, your wife doesn’t want you anymore.]

[Since that’s the case, I’ll gladly accept this Little Xue for myself. Rest assured, Little Xue will sleep exceptionally well within my covers.]

Tan Xueci froze on the spot, a fine layer of sweat breaking out across the tip of his nose. He didn’t recognize many written characters to begin with, so he hadn’t processed what the display monitor had indicated just moments ago. He had only witnessed He Xunye suddenly turning on his heel to leave.

He was utterly dumbfounded. Why did my husband leave? I was simply too embarrassed to speak in front of so many people.

Tan Xueci wanted to call out to He Xunye, yet as he bit his lip, a thick, watery mist flooded his eyes, his ear-tips burning bright red as his voice caught completely in his throat. Left with no other choice, he hurriedly whipped out his phone.

Having taken only a few paces forward, He Xunye suddenly received a phone call from his wife. He lifted the device to his ear.

“Hello, hello,” Tan Xueci’s tiny, muffled voice drifted through the receiver, sounding incredibly endearing. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” He Xunye murmured softly, unable to resist letting out a low chuckle.

Tan Xueci was constantly rejecting him, and in truth, he would feel a trace of sorrow as well. Yet the moment he faced Tan Xueci, he felt everything could be easily forgiven; as long as his wife remained happy and cheerful, why on earth was he overthinking things?

He truly never gave his wife a moment of peace.

The evening moonlight painted a silver sheen across the vast expanse of the ocean waters, the rolling waves crashing rhythmically against the shore, sweeping gently against one’s heart.

“I…” Tan Xueci gathered every ounce of his courage. Gazing intently at He Xunye’s retreating back, he squeezed his eyes shut, threw all caution to the wind, and shouted at the top of his lungs with a burning face, “You go tell He Xunye that I want him to be my Xiao Qian!”

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