Jiang Ji and Lu Xingyan rarely went out to have fun together. Their three-year age difference was not large, but when they were students it had meant three entire grades, like a ravine between them. Their social circles did not overlap.
Lu Xingyan talked a lot. He used to pester Jiang Ji constantly, telling him one thing after another, mainly for the purpose of showing off. Beyond “I’m more handsome than you” and “girls like me more,” there was also “I have more friends than you.”
He seemed to assume Jiang Ji automatically knew who all his buddies were and never bothered with introductions before dropping names. “Li Haoyu asked me to play basketball today.” “I’m going to Tang Xingchen’s place to play games this weekend.” “Did you know Zhang Zihan started dating early?”
Jiang Ji would be full of question marks.
Who the hell are any of these people?
“I don’t know, and it has nothing to do with me,” Jiang Ji would say. “Take your Haoyu, Xingchen, and Zihan somewhere else and cool off. I still have homework.”
Lu Xingyan would sneer. “It’s almost nine and you still haven’t finished? I already finished mine at school. Why are you so stupid?”
“…”
Nobody knew where Lu Xingyan found the nerve to call anyone else stupid. Jiang Ji would throw him out and lock the door, at which point Lu Xingyan immediately transformed into a dog, scratching furiously at the door. “Open up, open up, open up! Jiang Ji, open the door! Are you jealous because I have more friends?”
“Yes, yes, I’m dying of jealousy,” Jiang Ji would answer through the door. “So never mention them to me again. I don’t want to hear it.”
Being thrown out once did nothing to cure Lu Xingyan. He continued bringing them up afterward.
He merely changed tactics.
“Li Haoyu asked me to play basketball again. Come with me.”
“No.” Jiang Ji refused.
“I’m doing this for your own good,” Lu Xingyan said. “You don’t have many friends, so I’m generously letting you join us. Why don’t you appreciate it? You should thank heaven and earth that you met someone as kind as me, Jiang Ji!”
“…”
Apparently today’s theme was “I am kinder than you.”
Jiang Ji put in earplugs.
Ever since meeting Lu Xingyan, he had bought many varieties of earplugs. None blocked sound especially well, but as long as Jiang Ji made the motion of putting them in, Lu Xingyan knew he had become annoying again. After angrily complaining a few times, he would finally shut up and tactfully get lost.
Later, Lu Xingyan grew older and Jiang Ji moved into the university dormitory. They stopped seeing each other every day.
Jiang Ji’s ears finally found peace. Whenever he came home, Lu Xingyan no longer talked as much either. He seemed to have realized that excessively talkative boys were not cool, so he revised his persona and began acting like a silent, aloof guy instead.
When Jiang Ji did not voluntarily pay attention to this aloof guy, the aloof guy did not pay attention to Jiang Ji either. His skill at finding trouble, however, remained unchanged across the years. If Jiang Ji went to pour himself a glass of water, Lu Xingyan would follow to pour one too, squeeze in beside him at the dispenser, then bump his cup against Jiang Ji’s.
When Jiang Ji’s water spilled and he frowned at him, Lu Xingyan would immediately turn his face away with a chilly expression that said, Who cares about you?
It was also during this period that Lu Xingyan developed the habit of posting social updates.
He stopped bragging directly to Jiang Ji about how many friends he had and instead displayed his colorful social life on Moments—although it was not actually that colorful. He simply liked showing off.
Jiang Ji was not as busy then as he was now and checked Moments every day too. Once, his finger slipped and he accidentally liked one of Lu Xingyan’s posts. Less than two minutes later, Lu Xingyan sent him a private message: “Jiang Ji, were you secretly stalking my posts?”
To demonstrate that he had not intentionally stalked anything, Jiang Ji removed the like.
Lu Xingyan nearly had a heart attack. Convinced that this person had a stomach full of schemes and had deliberately done it to irritate him, he added another entry to “The Record of Jiang Ji’s Crimes.”
Returning to the present, today was Sun Cheng’s cousin Gu Xiaobo’s birthday. Lu Xingyan had insisted that Jiang Ji accompany him, but Jiang Ji did not know what kind of trick he was planning. Perhaps his old problem had returned and he wanted to show off how much more popular he was.
And while he was at it, he could maintain the act by performing something like, “Bro, look, so many people like me, but you’re the only one I love.”
Jiang Ji was kindhearted enough to help build the stage for him. On the way there, he asked, “Lu Xingyan, does anyone around you pursue you?”
They left close to sunset in Lu Xingyan’s car. The driver, dressed like a particularly flashy peacock, lifted one corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Tons.”
“Men or women? Mostly girls?” Jiang Ji asked. “Will any of them be there tonight?”
“Yes,” Lu Xingyan answered confidently. In reality, he had no idea how many people pursued him or who they were. He did not care. Whenever someone invited him out, he usually ignored them, and if they talked too much, he rewarded them with a block.
Lu Xingyan paused and glanced sideways at Jiang Ji. “Why are you asking? Don’t tell me that after what we did last night… cough, after that, you’ve started getting jealous?”
“…”
Jiang Ji did not laugh. His control over his expression was already strong enough to qualify him as an actor. “Just asking.”
“What do you mean, just asking?” Lu Xingyan pressed.
Jiang Ji did not answer. He sat coolly in the passenger seat and turned toward the window as though his mood had suddenly soured.
A question mark popped into Lu Xingyan’s head. His Adam’s apple moved. “Are you… actually jealous?”
Jiang Ji gave no reaction.
Lu Xingyan’s heart jolted. He instinctively began explaining. “There actually aren’t that many people pursuing me. It’s just… normal, I guess. Why are you even jealous over something this boring? Even if lots of people liked me, so what? I… I only like you.”
Exactly the line Jiang Ji had expected. Holding back laughter was becoming painful.
To keep Lu Xingyan from saying anything even stranger and breaking his composure, Jiang Ji turned back and said coldly, “Stop talking. I don’t want to hear another word.”
“…”
Once reprimanded, Lu Xingyan truly shut up.
The rest of the drive was unusually quiet. Lu Xingyan even kept his breathing soft, stealing glances at Jiang Ji every so often.
When they finally reached the KTV place and parked, Lu Xingyan personally opened the passenger door and attentively helped his brother out. Leaning close, he lowered his voice. “Still jealous? I was wrong.”
Jiang Ji said, “…”
He still had not figured it out after that entire drive? How could anyone be this easy to fool?
Guilt rose in Jiang Ji again. Bullying an idiot really did make a person feel immoral. He brushed aside Lu Xingyan’s hand and was forced to finish the performance. “Forget it. Let’s go inside.”
Lu Xingyan exhaled in relief, his steps almost floating.
He led Jiang Ji to the birthday boy’s private room. As soon as the door opened, a powerful wave of sound crashed over them, while gaudy colored lights flashed hard enough to make the eyes blur. Plenty of people were already there. They had arrived last.
Lu Xingyan had warned them in advance that his brother was coming. Gu Xiaobo was delighted; he had not expected himself to have enough face for Jiang Ji to actually show up.
Sun Cheng, on the other hand, wanted to die. He hesitated repeatedly, unsure how to warn his cousin in advance. Then he reconsidered. If another victim joined the group and helped shoulder the burden, that might not be so bad.
Everyone there knew one another, so there was no need for excessive courtesy. A KTV room was hardly a formal setting anyway. Lu Xingyan simply led Jiang Ji to a seat, grabbed the microphone, then grandly called the birthday boy over as if summoning a servant. “Gu Xiaobo, my brother’s here. Aren’t you coming to pay your respects?”
Gu Xiaobo, who had been in the middle of the stage, turned around, strode toward Jiang Ji, and made an exaggerated traditional bow. “Good evening, Bro. This humble one pays his respects!”
“Good. You’re dismissed.” Lu Xingyan waved him off. “Go sing.”
Gu Xiaobo drifted away again.
“…”
Jiang Ji had not even gotten the chance to say “happy birthday.” These two were performing entirely for themselves, offering a profound demonstration of the principle that birds of a feather flocked together. Both were hopeless drama kings.
Jiang Ji looked around. The lighting was dim, and he could not identify how many people he had met before. But as Lu Xingyan had said, most were couples, sitting close together in pairs along the sofas.
Lu Xingyan leaned toward him too. “Bro, do you want to sing? I’ll queue something for you.”
“You sing. I’ll listen.” Jiang Ji remembered Lu Xingyan enjoying singing and encouraged him to go up.
Unexpectedly, Lu Xingyan became modest. “I don’t sing very well. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of you.”
“Really?” Jiang Ji said. “Then who used to plug in a microphone downstairs and belt out songs while I was doing homework, refusing to stop no matter how many times I warned him?”
Lu Xingyan looked embarrassed. “Why are you digging up old history…”
Jiang Ji laughed softly and leaned back against the sofa. He lifted his gaze around the room and unexpectedly met someone else’s eyes.
It was a girl with two buns tied on top of her head, a round face, and a rather cute appearance. When she realized Jiang Ji was looking back, she came over without hesitation, sat beside him, and called, “Bro.”
Before Jiang Ji could say anything, Lu Xingyan glared. “Who are you? Who are you calling Bro?”
The girl laughed brightly and introduced herself. “I’m Zhen Shan’s roommate. My name is Qin Xiaoming. I heard Gu-ge call you that just now. Sorry…”
Zhen Shan was Sun Cheng’s girlfriend, and Jiang Ji knew the name. He answered politely, “It’s fine. Don’t be nervous.”
Realizing he was easier to talk to than she had imagined, the girl gathered her courage. “Um, well… could I add you on WeChat?”
“Sure.” Jiang Ji did not want to embarrass the acquaintance of an acquaintance and raised his phone for her to scan, only for Lu Xingyan to shove it down.
“What are you trying to do?” Lu Xingyan asked. “Say it clearly.”
Qin Xiaoming blinked. She had thought her intentions were already obvious and joked, “Do I really have to say it that clearly? That’s kind of embarrassing…”
Seeing that Lu Xingyan had made the girl awkward, Jiang Ji smoothed things over and let her scan his WeChat.
Her face turned bright red. After adding him, she hurried away and returned to her friends.
“Can you be a little more polite?” Jiang Ji said. “She barely got two sentences out before you scared her away.”
Lu Xingyan’s face darkened, practically smoking. “What do you mean?”
“What do I mean by what?”
“Have you forgotten what kind of relationship you have with me? Someone asks for your WeChat and you just give it to them?”
Jiang Ji lifted a brow slightly. “What kind of relationship do I have with you?”
“…”
Lu Xingyan choked. His face went white, then red, then nearly green beneath the multicolored KTV lights, creating a spectacular display.
The role of a humble, devoted lover was unbelievably difficult to play. Lu Xingyan desperately wanted to start an argument.
His instincts told him that if he had not been sitting there, Jiang Ji might not even have added the girl. This man was deliberately opposing him just to make him angry.
In fact, Lu Xingyan had experienced similar things many times before.
For some reason, Jiang Ji especially attracted younger boys and girls who were a little foolish. Some approached him because they wanted romance. Others did not.
But regardless of their intentions, they all liked calling him “Bro,” as though the moment Jiang Ji accepted the title, his maturity, tolerance, and strength as an older brother would somehow turn into a tangible protective shield around them, making them feel safe and fascinated.
Lu Xingyan hated it. He could not accept it. Jiang Ji was obviously his brother, yet people were always trying to steal him.
Even if Lu Xingyan did not care about Jiang Ji, whether he cared or not was his own business. Outsiders had nothing to do with it, and nobody else was allowed to interfere.
“Do you know how annoying you are?” Lu Xingyan finally failed to maintain his act and threw out the words with thorns in his voice.
“Is that so?” Jiang Ji looked at him through the dim light, his expression unchanged from usual. “Then should I leave?”
“…”
Leave, then. Who cares?
Lu Xingyan cursed silently, yet he could not stop himself from taking Jiang Ji’s hand. Following the motion, he wrapped an arm around Jiang Ji’s waist and hugged him, burying his face in Jiang Ji’s shoulder. His voice came out muffled. “You’re not allowed to leave!”
“There are this many people here. Why are you acting spoiled?” Jiang Ji pushed him. “Get up. You’re about to crush me.”
Lu Xingyan refused to move.
Jiang Ji marveled at the thickness of his skin. It was one thing to indulge his acting addiction in private, but he had absolutely no shame even under the eyes of an entire room?
If the purpose of today’s party was to make Jiang Ji lose all face, then Lu Xingyan had won.
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