Chapter 5
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When Liu Cheng finally caught up with Sun Chen, he was quite disappointed. Although Sun Chen was walking slowly, he didn’t seem particularly frightened. Liu Cheng couldn’t help but recall the image of Sun Chen on the giant rock, too scared to jump, with his hair and face drenched by the water.
Sun Chen, noticing Liu Cheng, actually showed a rare expression of mild surprise. “Mr. Liu, did you forget something up on the mountain?”
“I’m just tired and taking a break,” Liu Cheng made up an excuse. He couldn’t very well admit that he had stayed behind just to see Sun Chen struggle.
Sun Chen clearly didn’t believe Liu Cheng’s excuse. After all, Liu Cheng had almost completed the challenge projects with the speed of a wilderness survival expert. But, regardless, Sun Chen didn’t call him out. He simply walked past Liu Cheng and continued on his way.
Liu Cheng glared at Sun Chen’s back for a long time before finally catching up. “Wait for me. If you guys lose me, there won’t be anyone left to write the sponsorship checks.”
“You should appoint an emergency agent. That way, no matter what happens, someone can still complete your contracts on time,” Sun Chen replied without changing his expression. His words left Liu Cheng momentarily speechless.
“…Do you always have to be so pessimistic?”
Sun Chen paused his steps, turned back to Liu Cheng, and clarified, “I’m merely making a hypothetical suggestion, not wishing for it.”
“…Do you know you’re really bad at talking to people?” Liu Cheng asked, not as a reproach but out of genuine curiosity.
Sun Chen was silent for a moment. Just when Liu Cheng thought he wouldn’t answer, Sun Chen spoke calmly, “I’m used to it.”
Liu Cheng didn’t understand, “Used to what?”
“Not pleasing anyone.”
Sun Chen suddenly slowed down. This part of the path offered a terrifying view if one looked slightly to the left. Without making it obvious, Liu Cheng quickened his pace to walk on Sun Chen’s left side, mocking him with a hint of sarcasm, “It’s not that you’re used to not pleasing people. You’re used to making them hate you, aren’t you?”
Sun Chen thought for a moment, then nodded. “I’m also used to being disliked.”
Sun Chen’s unflappable response left Liu Cheng speechless for a while. To Liu Cheng, Sun Chen was the kind of person who could shut people down with various verbal counterattacks, but this straightforward and honest behavior, almost as if he were showing vulnerability, was unbelievable… and yet it also left Liu Cheng at a loss for words.
Liu Cheng hadn’t planned on speaking kindly to this person, but somehow, his tone softened. “You’re actually pretty lucky. You have a difficult personality, but at least you can reflect on it and make improvements. Unlike me, who’s so good-looking that I don’t even get a chance to change.”
For a fleeting moment, something like a smile crossed Sun Chen’s usually expressionless face. After a moment of thought, he nodded. “I’m better off than you, at least I have one friend.”
“Who’s that?” Liu Cheng was shocked. He couldn’t believe someone like Sun Chen could actually make a friend.
Maintaining his straightforward and honest attitude—almost as if they were genuinely having a conversation—Sun Chen hesitated briefly before answering in a very concise manner, “His name is Chen Xi.” If Sun Chen were a book, confident in its depth and not afraid of being scrutinized, then the part about “Chen Xi” would be the last page, guarded carefully.
Liu Cheng felt a bit uneasy. He wasn’t a paparazzo, so Sun Chen’s reluctance to let him know more about his life was somewhat hurtful. The most frustrating part was that Sun Chen didn’t even realize it; he didn’t even try to change the subject to let Liu Cheng save face, instead just pursing his lips cautiously.
Feeling a bit slighted, Liu Cheng’s mood cooled, and apart from helping Sun Chen when necessary, he didn’t say another word.
After a moment of awkward silence, Sun Chen surprisingly spoke up. “I can lend myself as a showpiece for you, in case someone jokes that you have no friends.”
Liu Cheng blinked instinctively, feeling that Sun Chen had made a major blunder this time. Didn’t he realize that saying such a thing to Liu Cheng was just giving him an opportunity to hit back with something like, “Even if I’m desperate, I don’t need a friend like you”? Sun Chen didn’t seem like someone who would let himself get caught out like that.
…But then again, Liu Cheng realized that he suddenly didn’t have it in him to say something mean.
He figured this must be a sense of accomplishment. It was like making a robot say “I like you,” a line that would be a miracle of coding and more thrilling than beating any game. Sun Chen, a high and mighty figure like an unattainable flower on a mountaintop, was showing goodwill towards Liu Cheng. Naturally, Liu Cheng couldn’t help but feel pleased, so much so that he didn’t want to spoil the good mood.
“Being my friend isn’t that easy. Without exchanging some secrets, there’s no sincerity in friendship,” Liu Cheng teased, trying to coax some information out of Sun Chen.
Without hesitation, Sun Chen accepted this idea. “Then, share one of your secrets.”
Liu Cheng felt as though he had set a trap for himself and then stepped right into it. The trap was familiar because he had set it himself.
“…Someone as straightforward as me…” His instinct was to brush it off, but upon reflection, he realized that if he backed out after bringing up the idea of exchanging secrets, it would seem insincere. After hesitating, he changed his tone, “The most I’ve got is a little secret from first grade, like wetting the bed, which doesn’t really detract from my glorious and heroic image.”
“Bedwetting after age three is actually considered a condition. It could be hereditary or caused by a variety of factors, such as congenital brain development issues or brain function disorders due to various reasons. Did you receive treatment for it at the time?”
Liu Cheng stared at Sun Chen, who was sincerely asking him this question.
From Liu Cheng’s reaction, Sun Chen could tell he hadn’t received any treatment. After sizing him up, Sun Chen added, “Don’t worry, based on your current condition, you seem to have developed normally without any intellectual problems, so there shouldn’t be any long-term effects. But when you have time, you might want to check for risks of infertility.”
Liu Cheng almost laughed in exasperation. “Of course I’m at a high risk of infertility because I like men.”
Sun Chen quickly corrected him, “Your preference for men isn’t a consequence of childhood bedwetting.”
“It’s your turn to share a secret!” Liu Cheng hurriedly changed the subject, more worried that he might end up crying than that he’d hit Sun Chen.
Sun Chen hesitated for a moment, then looked at Liu Cheng carefully. “Can you promise not to tell anyone?”
“Of course!” Liu Cheng perked up, feeling that this secret exchange was going to be worth it.
“My educational background is fake,” Sun Chen finally said.
It took Liu Cheng a long time to process what he had just heard. “Your educational background?”
“I didn’t graduate from a film academy.”
What Liu Cheng had been hoping to learn were things like first love experiences or secret crushes, but instead, Sun Chen revealed something that Liu Cheng couldn’t quite grasp the significance of.
Liu Cheng racked his brain. He remembered Gu Qingqiu mentioning that Sun Chen had formal training, but his school was just a small, obscure institution, recognized by the state but not well-known. Liu Cheng couldn’t understand why Sun Chen would need to fake his credentials for something like that.
“So, where did you actually graduate from?”
“Oxford.”
If Liu Cheng didn’t know that robots couldn’t lie, he might have thought Sun Chen was joking with him. “You graduated from Oxford? Then why on earth would you need a fake degree?”
“I applied to other TV stations before. With my real major, they wouldn’t hire me.”
“What was your major?”
“Theoretical Physics, Astrophysics, Natural Sciences.”
“…Are you reciting a stand-up comedy routine?”
“I told you I’m not a film major. I can’t do stand-up comedy.”
Liu Cheng finally laughed. He genuinely thought Sun Chen was terrible at conversation, but actually quite good at delivering a comedic routine.
By now, the difficult mountain path had gradually become flat. Before Liu Cheng realized it, they had reached the parking lot.
The descent had felt much shorter than Liu Cheng remembered. On the way up, it had seemed like they walked for most of the day, but now they were back in what felt like the blink of an eye. All the staff members reacted to the sight of the bus like they had spotted an oasis in the desert, almost running towards it in joy. In no time, everyone was on the bus, except for Gu Qingqiu, who was waiting by the door for Liu Cheng. Gu Qingqiu had taken a bottle of water from the bus—while they weren’t exactly parched on the mountain, water had been limited, and the first thing everyone did upon boarding was to drink. Smiling, Gu Qingqiu handed the bottle to Liu Cheng when he saw him.
“It’s only a half-hour drive, so don’t worry about drinking too much water.”
The reason Gu Qingqiu had been Liu Cheng’s longest-lasting lover was because he always knew how to make Liu Cheng feel comfortable with the little things. Liu Cheng wasn’t the type of considerate lover who took care of others, but he liked being taken care of, which was why he had always appreciated Gu Qingqiu’s attentiveness—except for this moment.
Liu Cheng couldn’t quite pinpoint what was bothering him. He stared at the bottle in Gu Qingqiu’s hand for a moment before taking it. Sun Chen, who had been walking beside him, went straight onto the bus and, as usual, chose the seat farthest from everyone else in the back row. Liu Cheng instinctively watched as Sun Chen placed his backpack down, adjusted his posture, and closed his eyes to rest.
“What’s wrong, Cheng?” Gu Qingqiu’s gentle voice sounded beside Liu Cheng.
Liu Cheng snapped out of it. “Nothing, we’re finally going home. The first thing I’m going to do is take a long, hot bath.” With that, he sat down with his lover in the front row.