Extra 04

By the seventh month of being with Xu Qiuluo, Fang Ying finally gave up reading the “LuoZong” fanfics and instead dove headfirst into “LuoYing.” Not for anything else—just because Big Cucumber, the notorious wall-hopping writer, was fickle as ever, swaying with the wind and playing both sides. In a harsh winter when the “LuoZong” ship was officially iced out by the main cast, she abandoned her main account entirely and officially debuted as a “LuoYing” writer under the little account “Fang Ying Eats Little Mango.” And her very first fanfic blew up like a storm in the “LuoYing” fandom.


That fanfic, titled “When the Starry Sky Falls into Your Arms,” stayed on the hot search trending list in the friends circle for three whole days. After three days, Fang Ying couldn’t resist any longer; he clicked in. After just one chapter, the familiar formula and flavor of Big Cucumber’s writing mercilessly dragged him right to the bottom of the fandom pit.

Fate! That’s called fate! That woman writes so well!! Even overused clichés squeezed out by others a thousand times could still burst readers’ energy channels with her skills! How could little Fang Ying be blamed for wall-hopping???

After blaming everything on Big Cucumber, Fang’s heart felt oddly at ease. So he happily and painfully embraced his journey—speeding full-throttle on the fast lane of the Fang-Xu CP.

After the Lunar New Year was over, Valentine’s Day was just around the corner.

His and Xu Qiuluo’s first Valentine’s Day.

Fang Ying started stressing about what gift to get Xu Qiuluo.

For celebrity couples, gift-giving was actually the hardest part—because whatever you want, you can buy yourself. Female stars at least had a bottomless supply of bags; but Xu Qiuluo was a male star.

Fang tried to fish for clues through Xu’s assistant about Xu’s recent likes—no luck. Then he started reading Big Cucumber’s fanfics for inspiration. Big Cucumber happened to write about their anniversary, where Fang gave Xu cufflinks, and Xu returned with a couple watch.

Both were gifts Fang had already ruled out.

His mouth twitched as it finally dawned on him: gift exchanges for star couples only existed in fanfics.

Because Xu Qiuluo lacked nothing. His clothes were sponsored. His watch was sponsored. His shoes and even his airport drink were from brands he endorsed.

Anything Fang gave would feel tacky or just end up stashed in a drawer.

Fang sulked over this for days. On Valentine’s Day itself, even Xu Zong who was acting alongside him noticed.

During a break, Xu Zong asked,
“What’s wrong, loser? You froze up?”

By that point, Fang was beside himself. He lifted his eyelids and asked,
“Zong Ge, if you were dating someone, what would you give for Valentine’s Day?”

Xu Zong was sharp. Fang’s thinly veiled question basically translated as, “Zong Ge, I have no idea what to get Luo Ge for Valentine’s.”

Without hesitation, Xu Zong pulled out his phone and sent Fang a video, adding, “Starts at 21 seconds.”

It was a Valentine’s Day special from a streaming platform interviewing ten male stars. Xu Qiuluo appears 21 seconds in.

Reporter asked,
“Xu Qiuluo, how will you spend this Valentine’s?”

Xu said,
“Of course, alone.”

It was the expected answer. If Fang was interviewed, he’d say the same. But hearing Xu say it made Fang’s heart sink.

That was so unlike an actor, Fang thought bitterly.

The reporter pushed,
“What’s the gift you most want to receive in the future?”

Finally hitting the spot, Fang’s lips tightened and his posture straightened. On screen, Xu scrunched his eyebrows, as if thinking hard, then smiled,
“Everything the other gives me—I think that’s the best gift.”

That was a textbook corporate-style answer. But Xu’s eyes seemed so serious, Fang felt like Xu was standing right in front of him, saying that to him personally. His face flushed, and his mind went blank. He turned to Xu Zong and whispered,
“What does that mean?”

Xu Zong’s eyes glittered mischievously and he decided to play wingman. He cleared his throat, patted Fang on the shoulder twice, then solemnly said,
“In other words—you, Fang Ying, are the best gift Xu Qiuluo could ask for.”

“We’re all men, it’s simple. Think it over.” He gave that utterly serious vibe.

That night, Xu Qiuluo didn’t go straight home from work. After shaking off paparazzi, he circled through the city and quietly drove into Fang’s neighborhood.

Opening the door, Fang wasn’t home. Xu called a few times, no answer. The bedroom door was ajar and dark. Just as he turned toward the living room, he caught a faint voice.

It was Fang calling from the bathroom:
“Luo… Luo Ge.”

Xu quickly walked over, approaching the bathroom door. Fang had turned on the lights, and Xu could hear water running.

“Are you showering? Forget something?”

“No… no…” Fang stammered nervously, “Luo, Luo Ge, could you open the door?”

Fang’s voice sounded off but didn’t seem sick. Xu puzzled a moment and softly replied, “Hmm?”

Suddenly Fang burst out, yanking the door wide open.

The bathroom was far from the living room and dark. Xu walked in, barely seeing except for a soft glow behind Fang.

Fang stood barefoot on the tiled floor, long legs bare. Xu’s gaze traveled upward—Fang wore only a shirt with sleeves rolled up, collar slightly open.

That was Xu’s shirt, left behind last time.

Actually, their body types weren’t far apart. Fang wearing Xu’s shirt barely covered the important parts; it was a light blue, not white. So it didn’t give off the usual “girlfriend borrowing boyfriend’s shirt” vibe from dramas or novels.

Fang seemed to notice this, seeming shy. He opened his mouth, blushed deeply, and raised a hand to close the door.

Xu was faster: he put his palm on the door and squeezed inside. The bathroom was chilly; Xu felt a shiver.

“So… cold…”

Maybe just the cold? Fang reached for the bathrobe on the rack but Xu grabbed his hand. Despite the chill around him, Xu’s hand was warm—even burning.

Fang knew why immediately. He instantly dropped his eyes. It was him trying to seduce Xu—but Xu came in so suddenly, Fang panicked and didn’t know where to put his hands. He kept his eyelids down, too afraid to meet Xu’s normally calm eyes, which now flickered with simmering desire.

They froze for a while. Xu slowly relaxed his grip. Before Fang could breathe out, Xu leaned in—grabbing Fang’s waist tightly—and Fang’s whole body pressed against him.

Xu lowered his head to kiss Fang. Fresh from the shower, Fang’s hair still smelled faintly of coconut, luscious and intoxicating. Xu closed his eyes, his hand pressed tighter behind Fang’s neck, holding him close. Fang moaned softly from the pressure. Xu pushed him gently back against the sink, his tongue boldly invading every inch between Fang’s lips and teeth.

Fang was caught off guard, lips parted like a fish flopping on the shore, lost for breath.

Just when Fang thought he might drown in this kiss, Xu bit down hard on his lip, then pulled back.

Xu withdrew his hand from Fang’s side and pressed both palms on the sink countertop, blowing hot breath gently along Fang’s neck.

The sudden stop threw Fang off guard; he could only blink in shock and ask hoarsely,
“Wh-what’s wrong?”

Xu cleared his throat and wrapped Fang in the bathrobe, crouching to tie the belt. Then he stood and buttoned up the top two buttons of Fang’s shirt collar.

Fang was still in a daze, letting Xu move freely. Xu lifted him effortlessly, carried him from the bathroom to bed, tucked him in, covering his half-exposed calf tightly under the robe.

Then, leaning over him, coaxing like a parent but with a raspy voice he never used before:
“I really like this gift of yours, but today’s not the day. I have a flight in an hour.”

He kissed Fang lightly.
“I came because I have something to give you.”

Fang laid back against the headboard, sober now without the steam. Realizing what just happened, his cheeks burned as he pulled up the blanket to hide his face.

Xu smiled softly, then went to the living room. Moments later, he came back carrying a bag.

Fang opened the bag and saw two pajamas.

Both the same style, one black, one white—a his-and-hers couple set.

Fang stared blankly at Xu.

Xu, unusually shy, rubbed his nose and said,
“I thought a long time about what you might need but just couldn’t decide. What couple outfits we can publicly wear was also a puzzle. Finally, I settled on this.”

“Though you probably won’t wear it outside,” Xu added.

Fang, even more embarrassed, touched the clothes then his ears—one felt cool, the other warm.

He whispered softly,
“It’s okay. I really like them.”

No sooner had he said this than he threw back the covers, got out of bed, and walked over to Xu.

Xu caught him and pulled him in close.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Fang Ying.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Luo Ge.”




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