Late at night, the sky over Wencheng was like a pitch-black curtain, with splendid fireworks bursting overhead. Sparks of light streaked in all directions, scattering across the city like a meteor shower.
Amid the dazzling display, Chu Duxiu and her companions joyfully welcomed the New Year, spending a holiday that was both wonderful and fulfilling, until at last the day came for them to return to Haicheng.
Outside the airport, Chu Lan and Shi Qin, as usual, escorted the two sisters to the gate -only this time, Xie Shenci, who had spent the festival in Wencheng with them, was also there. After Chu Duxiu and Chu Shuangyou exchanged farewells with their parents, they stood by to watch as the two said goodbye to Xie Shenci.
Chu Lan had long since regarded Xie Shenci as one of the family. With a cheerful double-handed push, mimicking the gesture of winning a mahjong hand, she said, “Xiao Xie, don’t forget!”
This referred to their tea house appointment – thanks to his peculiar knack for socializing, Xie Shenci had built up a strong circle of friends among the local card players, even setting the date for their next game.
Xie Shenci answered earnestly, “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely be there.”
Shi Qin spoke in a gentle tone, “You’re welcome to come spend New Year in Wencheng again. Think of this place as your second home.”
Xie Shenci quickly replied, “Thank you, Uncle.”
Shi Qin chuckled with narrowed eyes. “So now you’re calling me Uncle?”
Hearing this, Chu Duxiu and the others, not understanding their cryptic exchange, turned curious eyes on them. For a moment, faced with everyone’s gaze, Xie Shenci was left speechless.
Chu Lan said, “Alright then, take care on the road. Another time we’ll come visit Haicheng and Nancheng as well.”
After the warmth of reunion, the time of parting inevitably arrived.
The three bid farewell to their parents and entered Wencheng Airport, each about to head their own way. Chu Duxiu and Xie Shenci were flying back to Haicheng, while Chu Shuangyou was bound for Nancheng.
Inside the terminal, Chu Shuangyou hugged her sister, then turned politely to Xie Shenci with a nod. “Mr. Xie, see you next year.”
Chu Duxiu was startled. “You’re still calling him Mr. Xie?”
Both Chu Lan and Shi Qin had already switched to calling him “Xiao Xie,” yet Chu Shuangyou’s form of address remained formal.
With a light, casual smile, Chu Shuangyou said, “After all, in the legal sense, we’re not family yet. Proper courtesy shouldn’t be forgotten.”
“That’s true. Consider it a reminder and encouragement,” Xie Shenci replied in all seriousness. “I’ll make sure everything becomes legal and aboveboard as soon as possible.”
Chu Shuangyou: “???”
Brazen shamelessness trumps hidden barbs.
Her expression grew subtle as she fixed her gaze on Xie Shenci for a few seconds. In the end, she chose silence and wheeled her suitcase away.
Chu Duxiu waved at her sister. “Text me when you land!”
“Alright. You two should head to your gate too.”
Chu Duxiu watched her sister depart, then turned to the man beside her with a smile. “Will you come again next year?”
“Of course.” Xie Shenci looked at her and winked. “I’ve only redeemed one of the annual gala prizes.”
*
After the New Year, Shanle Culture wrapped up the holiday break and welcomed a brand-new year.
When Chu Duxiu stepped into the company, she noticed that the festive New Year decorations were still up. On her desk, however, lay a red envelope for the first day of work, its cover printed with Shanle Culture’s logo – most likely distributed in advance by the administrative staff.
“There are actually red envelopes.” Chu Duxiu opened hers and blinked in surprise. “And there’s real money inside.”
It was part of the company’s good wishes, hoping to bring luck for the year ahead. Even though everyone had already fought over digital red packets in the group chat during the holiday, the first official day back still came with cash in hand.
Wang Nali said, “Looks like this was prepared by Mr. Shang.”
“Exactly. The cover isn’t a doodle,” Scallion teased. “So it wasn’t from Mr. Xie.”
Of course, Chu Duxiu could tell her friend was joking. She immediately joined in their banter, laughing and chatting as she threw herself into the new year’s work.
Inside the office, the two founders met again after the holiday, casually chatting about their time off and the company’s plans.
Thinking of the company group chat’s activity over Spring Festival, Shang Liang suddenly asked, “Did you spend New Year back in Wencheng with Chu Duxiu?”
Xie Shenci glanced up at him. “How do you know?”
“Your New Year’s Eve dinner plates were identical,” Shang Liang raised a brow. “So you met the parents?”
“Yes.”
“When are you getting married?”
Faced with his rapid-fire questions, Xie Shenci hesitated. “Are you planning to give a wedding gift?”
Shang Liang’s barrage of queries came like that of an overzealous elder pushing for marriage, carrying a pressing intensity – he sounded more anxious than either set of parents.
“No,” Shang Liang said coolly. “I just want to know when I’ll be serving under the new major shareholder.”
Xie Shenci: “?”
*
After the third season of The Stand-Up King ended, Shanle decided to put the show on pause – giving veteran performers time to rest while also nurturing more new talent. Of course, the production team wouldn’t be taking a break. Not only were they preparing new programs, they were also planning a company variety show.
Chu Duxiu, Scallion, and others had done well on the show Want to Chat With You, and many netizens began calling on Shanle to launch a team-building style program, since just listening to stand-up comedians talk was already highly entertaining.
The company’s writers had recently been preparing material for new shows, gathering everyday anecdotes for their routines, and of course Chu Duxiu was no exception.
Over the weekend, the office was nearly empty. Chu Duxiu bent down to press the power switch on her computer tower, but the monitor remained dark. She let out a helpless sigh – just then, a message popped up on her phone. The contact name was marked with a pear emoji: it was Wang Nali.
Wang Nali sent several quick messages: [Is the apartment building out of power?]
[I was just about to start writing, and then realized my laptop’s out of battery.]
Chu Duxiu replied: [Yeah, looks like the whole area’s having a blackout.]
Wang Nali: [Then I guess I’ll have to go to the office.]
[The office doesn’t have power either, because I’m here right now.]
Today, the apartment suddenly lost power. When Chu Duxiu went downstairs to ask the building manager, she learned that nearby circuits were undergoing maintenance, leaving some high-rises temporarily without electricity. She then headed to Shanle, intending to work on her script at the office – only to find that the office building also fell within the outage area.
Upon hearing this, Wang Nali replied with perfect peace of mind: [Great, I’ve already crawled back into bed. You can’t blame me for not working hard – God simply didn’t give me the chance. Are you back from the office yet?]
Chu Duxiu: [Not yet.]
[Then just forget about writing. It’s the weekend anyway.]
Staring at the messages, Chu Duxiu found herself torn. Her script wasn’t exactly urgent – but her phone was about to die, and even her power bank was on its last legs.
After a moment’s hesitation, she simply sent a message to Xie Shenci: [Do you have a power outage too?]
Mr. Xie 10.9: [No.]
Perhaps not understanding her question, he also sent a sticker: a black cat tilting its head with a question mark.
Chu Duxiu hadn’t expected his neighborhood to be spared from the blackout. Her eyes lit up at once as she found someone she could turn to: [I think one should always repay kindness.]
She had taken him in during the New Year – now it was his turn to take her in. That wasn’t asking too much, was it? Yet his reply came even faster than she could type.
Mr. Xie 10.9: [I’m not human.]
[?]
Chu Duxiu responded: [I haven’t even said what I need yet.]
Mr. Xie 10.9: [I’ve been cursed with a spell that turned me into a cat. I’ve been deprived of human rights for quite some time now.]
Mr. Xie 10.9: [Only a kiss can break the curse that’s been cast on me.]
Chu Duxiu: “…”
So this was The Frog Prince, reimagined with a black cat?
Of course she could see right through his cunning tricks, and she replied: [Then don’t break it. That curse suits you just fine.]
Mr. Xie 10.9: [?]
A short while later, Chu Duxiu and Xie Shenci met at the entrance of his neighborhood. From afar she spotted him waiting, and hurried toward him in quick strides. Xie Shenci casually took her backpack from her and asked, “So both your apartment and the office lost power?”
“Yes. And mainly my power bank ran out too,” Chu Duxiu replied. “Do you have a charging cable at home?”
“I do. Plus snacks, drinks, and a game console.” After pausing a few seconds, Xie Shenci raised his brows and added, “There’s also a work computer, but it’s under a curse – can’t be used on weekends.”
Clearly, he was worried she’d end up working overtime, so he cut that option off in advance.
“No worries, I brought my laptop.” Chu Duxiu patted her backpack. “A socialist laptop sweeps away all demons and monsters – weekend curses don’t stand a chance.”
At his place, Chu Duxiu was finally able to charge her devices, easing her most urgent worry. She sat at the table, propped up her laptop, and tried to focus on reviewing her script – only to find she simply couldn’t concentrate.
Xie Shenci took out her water bottle, filled it up, and set it by her hand. He also laid out some snacks before retreating to the sofa in the living room, making sure not to disturb her writing and giving her plenty of space to work.
But her thoughts kept drifting away, always wandering toward the living room.
Even though he was quiet and made no move to interfere, she just couldn’t stop herself.
Chu Duxiu asked, “Why don’t you go out for a bit?”
“Why?” Xie Shenci turned his head toward her, looking innocent. “I haven’t made a sound.”
“You staying here makes it impossible for me to write.” Chu Duxiu hesitated, then muttered, “All I can think about is playing.”
“Playing what?” Xie Shenci suggested, “A game?”
“Playing with you.”
Xie Shenci fell silent for a few seconds. Sitting on the sofa, he patted the empty spot beside him. “Come here.”
When he saw her frozen at the desk, he leaned back instead, stretching out lazily as if to lie flat. “Come here.”
Chu Duxiu’s willpower had never been that strong – her mind torn between work and play. Now, under his coaxing, her resolve shattered completely. She abandoned wasting time in front of the laptop and dove onto the sofa where he lounged so casually.
Chu Duxiu sprawled over him, rubbing against him playfully, pressing her cheek against the skin of his neck.
The two of them fooled around in the living room, setting everything else aside.
She gave up the idea of working overtime altogether, climbed up from the sofa, and casually grabbed the remote. “Wanna play a game?”
“Didn’t you just say you wanted to play…” Xie Shenci’s voice trailed off. He looked regretful, then added, “Alright. What do you want to play?”
In the end, they opened a game they had bought but never once played: It Takes Two. The story centered on saving a couple’s broken relationship, with players controlling two characters, cooperating to clear levels while following the unfolding plot.
“What kind of game is this?” Chu Duxiu asked in puzzlement. “The story sounds so unlucky.”
As the one who had bought it, Xie Shenci explained: “Online reviews said it’s a co-op game perfect for couples.”
“…Are you sure it’s not the kind where you play it and that’s the end of the relationship?”
She half-suspected the game’s promotional blurb was a conspiracy, meant to break couples apart – one ruined pair at a time.
The game opened with a quarreling couple, their daughter heartbroken, a family falling to pieces. Just looking at the scenes was suffocating. On the screen, two people who once loved each other deeply now stood in confrontation, with the music amplifying the tension – it all reeked of domestic discord.
Chu Duxiu said, “Terrifying. So after marriage, every argument turns into something like this?”
She had never quarreled with Xie Shenci, and it was hard to imagine such earth-shattering drama. Somehow the game felt like it carried a real-life cautionary lesson.
“I don’t know. You only gain true knowledge through practice. They’re a married couple, not like us.” Xie Shenci blinked calmly. “So we need to get married first, then we’ll be able to answer your question.”
“???”
