If I Can’t Get the Male Lead, I’ll Just Be a Salted Fish Chapter 23

After Qin Shu finished his shower, he realized he’d forgotten to bring a change of clothes inside. He roughly toweled himself dry, threw on the hotel bathrobe, and walked out while tying the belt. “Senior, did you win for me?”

Xie Lanzhi was sitting on the sofa, body leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, fingers lightly pressed against his forehead, looking deep in thought. Hearing Qin Shu call him, he lifted his eyes, expression complicated. “I won.”

“That’s good.” Meeting his gaze, Qin Shu hesitated and asked, “Do I look… off somehow?”

Xie Lanzhi: “No. Remember to blow dry your hair.”

Qin Shu said: “Oh. Senior, I need to trouble you with something.”

“Say it.”

“I left my change of clothes in the car.” Qin Shu tugged at the bathrobe collar, smiling a little embarrassed. “Dressed like this, it’s inconvenient for me to go out. Could you grab them for me?”

“It’s already very late,” said Xie Lanzhi.

Qin Shu picked up his phone from the coffee table and checked the time—it had just passed midnight. For their kind, night-owl immortals cultivating late into the night, that wasn’t even the foundation stage. Xie Lanzhi’s cultivation really was shallow. “Then what do I do?”

“Wear mine,” Xie Lanzhi said flatly. “I brought two sets.”

Qin Shu hesitated. He preferred wearing his own clothes. “Senior, stand up.”

Xie Lanzhi stood. Qin Shu shifted from looking down to looking up slightly. He reached out, measured against his own head—he came up just about to Xie Lanzhi’s nose. “If I wear your clothes they’ll be too big, right?”

Xie Lanzhi’s Adam’s apple moved. “Isn’t it better for pajamas to be loose?”

Qin Shu couldn’t refute that. “That’s true.”

Xie Lanzhi tossed him the spare set. “Go change. I’ll have laundry service wash and dry the ones you wore.”

What kind of weird move was this, forcing someone to wear his own clothes—what was the point? Wouldn’t it be faster to run to the parking lot than call laundry service? Qin Shu muttered inwardly, but still went into the bathroom to change.

As expected, Xie Lanzhi’s clothes were large on him. The T-shirt reached his thighs, and the collar slipped now and then. Luckily his waist wasn’t much thinner, so at least the pants didn’t fall off.

Qin Shu lowered his head to sniff—sure enough, there was that faint lemon scent he often smelled on Xie Lanzhi. He blow-dried his hair, walked out, and saw Xie Lanzhi already in bed.

The lights were all off except the bedside lamp. Warm yellow light, white pillows and quilt, and Xie Lanzhi looking down at his phone. Qin Shu stood at the foot of the bed, nervous for no reason.

It wasn’t like he’d never shared a bed with another guy before—back then he’d been completely casual, no different from a straight guy. But Xie Lanzhi wasn’t like other people—he was just too d*mn handsome.

As a face-obsessed homebody gay, Qin Shu’s idols were always two-dimensional characters. No matter how good-looking real-life guys were, he’d never felt stirred. But Xie Lanzhi’s looks broke through the dimensional wall. There was no way he could stay calm sharing a bed with him.

Still, it was fine. Once the lights were off, it was the same no matter who he slept with.

As Qin Shu’s thoughts spiraled, Xie Lanzhi set down his phone and looked at him. “Not sleeping yet?”

“Sl-sleeping.” Qin Shu lifted the corner of the quilt, slowly climbed in. The bed was huge, with enough space in the middle for another Chu Cheng. “Senior, can you turn off the light?”

Seeing him curled up at the edge, Xie Lanzhi asked, “Aren’t you afraid of falling off?”

“No,” Qin Shu, lying on his side facing him with the quilt up to his nose, exposing only his dark eyes, replied, “I sleep very steadily.”

Xie Lanzhi looked at him a while, then leaned over to turn off the lamp. The room sank into darkness.

Without seeing Xie Lanzhi’s face, Qin Shu relaxed. “What time do we get up tomorrow?”

“Four,” said Xie Lanzhi.

Qin Shu mumbled, “Alright then. Good night, senior.”

“……” Xie Lanzhi was a little perplexed. His phone lit up on the nightstand. Turning his back to Qin Shu, he unlocked it and saw a message from Lu Rulu.

【Red carp, green carp, donkey: Bro Lan, lend me your database lab report?】

【Shuimenjian: Who’s the person on your phone wallpaper.】

 【Red carp, green carp, donkey: Why ask, young man? Obviously my goddess, Scarlett Johansson.】

 【Shuimenjian: If she were sharing your bed right now, what would you do?】

 【Red carp, green carp, donkey: ??? That good a thing could happen?!】

 【Red carp, green carp, donkey: Of course I’d—】

 【Red carp, green carp, donkey: Ask her to help me grow up~!】

 【Shuimenjian: Reported to the police.】

 【Shuimenjian: I’ll send you the lab report tomorrow.】

After putting down the phone, Xie Lanzhi glanced at Qin Shu. He hadn’t moved, and seemed to be asleep.

At 4 a.m., the alarm rang. Xie Lanzhi shut it off wearily and sat up. He felt like he’d been half-awake all night, not sleeping at all. He switched on the bedside lamp. The junior was on the other side of the bed, facing outward, showing him only the back of his head.

Qin Shu slept very restrainedly, always clinging to the very edge of the bed, as if a small movement would send him rolling to the floor. Watching him like this, Xie Lanzhi felt like he’d become Zhong Kui, Qin Shu’s favorite game character—just get a little closer, and he’d be pulled straight into his arms.

Xie Lanzhi stretched out his hand, ruffled Qin Shu’s hair. “Qin Shu.”

Predictably, Qin Shu gave no response.

Xie Lanzhi leaned closer to his back. “Little player, wake up to watch the sunrise.”

The phone rang again—this time it wasn’t the alarm, but a call from Chu Cheng.

Xie Lanzhi answered, lowering his voice: “Hello?”

“Brother Lan, are you guys up? We’re about to head out.”

“We…”

Qin Shu, deep in his sweet dreams, had no intention of waking. Instinctively avoiding the “noise” source, he shuffled forward—suddenly there was nothing under him.

Xie Lanzhi reacted fast: one hand holding the phone, the other arm circling Qin Shu’s waist from behind, pulling him back from the edge. Qin Shu rolled over in the process, and they ended up face to face. Worried he might fall again, Xie Lanzhi moved his hand from Qin Shu’s waist to his back, drawing him closer.

“Hello? Hello? Brother Lan, can you hear me?”

Xie Lanzhi lowered his eyes to Qin Shu’s sleeping face. “Mm.”

“Where are you guys?”

“Still in bed.”

“Then you need to hurry, or you’ll miss the sunrise.”

Xie Lanzhi thought for a moment. “We’re not going.”

“Hah?”

“Qin Shu’s sleeping like the dead, I can’t wake him.”

Chu Cheng said bluntly: “Slap him across the face, see if he wakes up.”

“Possible, but unnecessary.”

“…Fine, even if he doesn’t go, you’re not going either?” Chu Cheng pressed. “It’d be such a waste to come all this way and not watch.”

Xie Lanzhi replied, “I can’t be bothered to get up either.”

Chu Cheng sounded like he wanted to push further, but then Xie Lanzhi heard Xu Ning’s voice: “They probably went to bed late yesterday. Since they’ve decided not to come, just let them sleep more.”

Only then did Chu Cheng say, “Alright then, keep sleeping. See you later.”

After hanging up, Xie Lanzhi tried to pull his arm out to turn off the light, but Qin Shu clung to him even tighter, mumbling something in his sleep. Xie Lanzhi bent down, pressing his ear to Qin Shu’s lips.

“Xu Ning…”

Xie Lanzhi’s gaze darkened.

“Chu Cheng… you two must end up together…”

Oh. Now there was a Chu Cheng in the mix as well.

Inside, Xie Lanzhi felt no waves at all. He almost wanted to laugh.

Qin Shu slept blissfully until he woke on his own. When he did, he didn’t open his eyes right away; instead, he lay there smiling, savoring his sweet dream.

In his dream, the CP he shipped had gotten married. Chu Cheng and Xu Ning wore matching suits, walked up hand in hand, and served him tea.

Chu Cheng said: “I’ve been dumb all these years, thanks to you not despising me, I could finally marry Ning Ning. From now on, you’re my real dad. Wife, call Dad.”

Xu Ning smiled gently: “Dad.”

Qin Shu opened his eyes. The unfamiliar room left him dazed for a moment. He turned over and saw Xie Lanzhi half-lying beside him, looking at his phone. He must not have slept well—his complexion wasn’t great, and the air around him felt heavy.

Qin Shu’s mind gradually cleared. “Senior.”

Without lifting his head, Xie Lanzhi said, “Awake?”

The curtains were drawn, sunlight filtering through the gaps. Qin Shu blinked, grabbed his phone—it was already ten in the morning. Looking at Xie Lanzhi, still calm as ever, he grew confused. “Did we already watch the sunrise, but I forgot?”

“You failed to get up,” Xie Lanzhi replied.

Qin Shu sat up, scratching his head. He did have a habit of oversleeping. Who doesn’t these days? Just let the alarm ring a few more times and he’d surely wake.

“Missed it, so forget it.” Xie Lanzhi tossed the quilt aside and got out of bed. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“What’s available?”

“There’s a menu on the table.”

Qin Shu didn’t get up, instead crawling across the bed commando-style to the foot, stretching one arm toward the menu on the table. “Just a little more… almost there… yes! Senior, look, I got it!”

“I see. Impressive.”

A boy’s happiness is really that simple. Qin Shu grinned ear to ear, menu in hand, then sat back down on the bed to browse. “I’ll have the century egg solo congee.”

After they washed up, breakfast was delivered. Qin Shu had the habit of watching shows while eating, and since the room had a TV, he asked: “Senior, can I put something on?”

Xie Lanzhi turned on the TV. A familiar BGM started playing. Qin Shu glanced over—it was one of those “morally upright” Qiong Yao dramas.

Onscreen, the male lead walked alone down the street, inner monologue: “I can’t deny, Ru Ping truly moved me. Or perhaps… I am not the only man in the world whose heart can be moved by two women.”

Qin Shu nearly spat out his congee. “Shameless b*stard!”

Xie Lanzhi chuckled. “You also think that’s shameless?”

“Of course,” Qin Shu said indignantly. “It’s men like him who ruin the reputation of our entire brotherhood!”

Xie Lanzhi looked at him and asked, “Then if someone really did fall for several people at once, what should they do?”

Qin Shu had never experienced such a situation, and had no answer. “Why is Senior suddenly asking me that?”

After a pause, Xie Lanzhi said, “I have a friend like that.”

That friend probably wasn’t Xie Lanzhi himself. If Xie Lanzhi wanted to play around, there would be no shortage of people willing to be toyed with. No way he’d still be single now.

Since it was supposedly a friend, Qin Shu couldn’t speak too harshly. He made a veiled jab instead: “Your friend’s heart must be shattered into many pieces, with each piece falling for someone different.”

“Perhaps.”

Qin Shu shoveled another spoonful of congee into his mouth, swallowed, and said: “Best to advise him to settle down, keep only the one he likes most, and throw the rest away.”

Xie Lanzhi said: “But he doesn’t know which one he likes more.”

“Then he’s hopeless, bury him.”

“One is the person he says out loud that he likes; the other is the one he goes out of his way to scheme around, even using their photo as his wallpaper,” Xie Lanzhi said casually. “Which one do you think he likes more?”

Author’s Note:
Little love note: I like you, the one and only fish! (not really)