TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 38

Before his transmigration, when Zhuang Yanyu decided to become human, the first request he made to the main system was for a normal human body.

So, he had prepared in advance, meticulously studying every structure of the human body.

Zhuang Yanyu knew his body inside and out.

Naturally, he was also aware of these kinds of bodily reactions.

Though this was his first time experiencing it—after all, he had only been human for less than half a year and had never encountered such a situation before—he didn’t panic at all.

In fact, he even thought that Wen Chenxi might not understand. Otherwise, why would his friend have that kind of expression?

Zhuang Yanyu scrutinized Wen Chenxi carefully and asked in a small voice, “You’ve never had this happen before?”

That didn’t seem right.

Based on his understanding of humans, it was a normal reaction for anyone reaching puberty.

His friend was already thirty—he should have experienced this long ago.

Even he, who had only been human for a few months, knew about it.

For a thirty-year-old man, unless he had some kind of physiological issue, there was no way he wouldn’t understand.

Before his transmigration, when Zhuang Yanyu was still bound to his host, any matters related to the host’s privacy were strictly protected by the system’s privacy protocols. Everything was blocked or censored.

Especially when the host was being intimate with someone—the system either saw a full-screen mosaic or automatically entered standby mode.

But this kind of thing—whether you see it or not doesn’t really matter. Just looking it up will give you all the information you need.

Zhuang Yanyu glanced at Wen Chenxi with a trace of sympathy. Did his good buddy seriously never go through puberty?

All the other boys did—did he not?

Zhuang Yanyu carefully chose his words:

“Then… do you want me to teach you?”

Wen Chenxi’s brain was still reeling from Zhuang Yanyu’s earlier comment that had casually started with the word “sea”—clearly referring to a certain body part. He finally snapped out of it, only to see Zhuang Yanyu looking at him with genuine pity.

Wen Chenxi didn’t need to think. He could already guess exactly where Zhuang Yanyu’s strange train of thought had gone off the rails this time.

Feeling defeated, Wen Chenxi’s body reacted even faster than his reason—he immediately reached out and clamped a hand over Zhuang Yanyu’s mouth. With a weak sigh, he said,

“Xiao Yu, please stop talking.”

Zhuang Yanyu looked at him in confusion. With his mouth covered, he couldn’t say anything, so he just blinked and let out a muffled “Mmm?”

Wen Chenxi’s face remained expressionless.

“I know what it is. I’ve experienced it too. I don’t need you to teach me. Thanks.”

What was he even supposed to say?

That Zhuang Yanyu was so skilled he could destroy the entire ambiguous mood with just one sentence?

And destroy it completely.

Just a moment ago, when he’d realized this guy was having a certain… reaction from eating too much of that “super-nourishing” food,

Wen Chenxi had to admit: his own blood had definitely rushed up too.

And now, no matter what he did, he couldn’t calm it down. His mind was filled with Zhuang Yanyu.

Filled with scenes he’d dreamed about before—things this version of Yu would see in his dreams. He even had the audacity to hope that maybe, maybe, he appeared in Yu’s dreams too.

Wen Chenxi had been terrified that he wouldn’t be able to control himself, that he might lose all sense of restraint and throw himself at Zhuang Yanyu like a starving wolf.

But now, great.

Just three short sentences from Zhuang Yanyu—colder than any cold shower—instantly brought him back to a state of complete serenity. He could practically recite a Buddhist sutra right now:

No sorrow, no joy. No desire, no attachment.

Zhuang Yanyu simply said, “Oh.”

He thought so. It was unlikely Wen Chenxi didn’t know.

Zhuang Yanyu blinked, as if he still had more to say.

But Wen Chenxi had truly had enough.

Every time Yu opened his mouth, Wen Chenxi could feel his body… wilt a little.

So he kept his hand clamped over Zhuang Yanyu’s mouth, gently pressed him back down on the bed, and expressionlessly said,

“Alright, Xiao Yu. Time to sleep.”

Zhuang Yanyu nodded obediently.

He was always well-behaved.

Other people might not listen, but his dad had taught him to listen to adults who were good to him.

And if it was a brother? Then of course he should listen even more.

This was someone he wanted to treat like a real older brother!

Still, Zhuang Yanyu wanted to sleep, but his body’s reaction hadn’t completely subsided, which made it uncomfortable.

Ever since arriving in this world, this was the first time he’d experienced this kind of response. Sure, he knew all the theory and understood it was a normal physiological reaction.

But knowing it in theory and actually feeling it for the first time were two different things—he still needed time to adjust.

This was his first time trying to adapt…

Zhuang Yanyu tried to empty his mind and not think about it.

According to the data, when the body has this kind of reaction, you can try reading a book, watching a movie, exercising, cleaning, cooking, etc.

Basically, do anything to shift your attention.

Scientific data shows that once your attention is redirected, the feeling will gradually fade.

So Zhuang Yanyu tried to focus his thoughts elsewhere.

But having his mouth covered was uncomfortable. And his good buddy Wen Chenxi, being so big, was still leaning over him.

He tried to look at the ceiling, but when he lifted his gaze, the first thing he saw was Wen Chenxi’s face.

In the dim room, that face was surprisingly well-defined. Especially from this angle—he could clearly see that flawless jawline.

Oh, and he’d actually analyzed Wen Chenxi’s face before. It had almost no bad angles, with perfectly symmetrical proportions.

Actually, a lot of people’s heads get slightly misshapen at birth due to the birthing process, or from always sleeping in the same position, which affects the shape of their heads—and, in turn, their faces.

Because of this, most people’s faces were slightly uneven.

Scientific studies even show that most people’s left side is better-looking than their right…

Zhuang Yanyu’s thoughts got more and more chaotic. He had no idea where his mind had wandered off to.

Maybe because he noticed Zhuang Yanyu staring at him, Wen Chenxi gently removed his hand and softly asked,

“Can you still fall asleep?”

Zhuang Yanyu looked him in the eyes and answered honestly,

“I don’t know.”

Wen Chenxi: “You don’t know if you can sleep?”

Zhuang Yanyu: “Mm.”

Wen Chenxi held his gaze for a moment. Then he remembered that he used to cover Zhuang Yanyu’s eyes to help him fall asleep.

So he quietly moved his hand up and covered his eyes.

“How about now?”

In the past, as long as Wen Chenxi covered Zhuang Yanyu’s eyes, the kid would fall asleep quickly—sometimes instantly.

From beneath his palm, he felt long, curled lashes gently fluttering. Zhuang Yanyu was blinking.

Then he heard him say,

“Probably not.”

Wen Chenxi: “Why not?”

Zhuang Yanyu nudged his hand slightly and replied in a serious tone:

“I’m a little uncomfortable.”

Wen Chenxi: “……”

Zhuang Yanyu said earnestly:

“I know it’s normal, but since this is my first time… um, it doesn’t happen often, so I’m not used to it yet. I’m doing my best to find a way to shift my attention.”

Zhuang Yanyu had originally meant to say it was his first time.

But considering he was now 23 years old, calling it his “first time” felt a little forced.

A normal 23-year-old man wouldn’t usually be having this kind of experience for the first time.

So, he changed his words to “rarely.”

Zhuang Yanyu’s tone was far too serious and earnest—like he was discussing some advanced academic topic with Wen Chenxi.

It made Wen Chenxi feel both exasperated and amused.

With a bit of impatience, Wen Chenxi said, “Then go ahead—shift your focus.”

Zhuang Yanyu replied, somewhat frustrated, “I can’t with you right here. I was going to stare at the ceiling, but the moment I looked up, all I saw was you.”

Wen Chenxi froze, and instinctively asked, “Then… does seeing me annoy you?”

Zhuang Yanyu said, “No, it doesn’t. In fact, I want to keep looking.”

Hearing such a straightforward and unhesitating answer, Wen Chenxi’s heart skipped a beat—twice.

Not only did he not find him annoying—he wanted to keep looking.

Did that mean… this Yu might actually feel something for him?

Maybe Zhuang Yanyu didn’t know what this emotion was yet—or maybe he’d never encountered it before, and simply didn’t understand it.

The thought made Wen Chenxi’s heart beat even faster.

Could it really be what he hoped?

Could Xiao Yu… actually harbor feelings beyond friendship?

Zhuang Yanyu, oblivious to Wen Chenxi’s spiraling thoughts, quietly repeated what he’d been saying earlier:

“I said earlier, I know this kind of symptom is normal. And according to the data, as long as I shift my attention, I should be able to…”

Wen Chenxi interrupted him: “Xiao Yu.”

Zhuang Yanyu wasn’t annoyed about being cut off. He simply responded,

“I’m here.”

There was something incredibly gentle in his tone—like no matter when or where, as long as Wen Chenxi called him, he’d always answer.

Wen Chenxi was quietly moved by that.

Maybe that was exactly why… it gave him a sudden surge of courage he never used to have.

He exhaled softly, though his hand still hadn’t moved from covering Zhuang Yanyu’s eyes.

Maybe it was the late hour—or maybe it was just something about the stillness of the night—but even Wen Chenxi’s voice was softer, afraid to startle some fragile, restless creature.

He asked, “Then… do you want me to help you?”

In the end, Wen Chenxi couldn’t hold back.

He wanted to test the waters.

He wasn’t just testing Zhuang Yanyu’s feelings—he was testing Zhuang Yanyu’s boundaries, his tolerance.

Zhuang Yanyu blinked. With his eyes covered, he couldn’t see anything, so his other senses kicked into overdrive.

He even thought he could hear Wen Chenxi’s heartbeat speeding up.

And the hand covering his eyes… had started to sweat.

Zhuang Yanyu asked in confusion, “How would you help?”

How exactly does a brother help with something like this?

Maybe it was the strange mood clouding his mind, but even his normally rational system couldn’t outmatch human instinct.

His thoughts drifted all the way to the cultivation world.

Zhuang Yanyu, dazed, wondered—could it be that Wen Chenxi knew some kind of spiritual technique from the cultivation world? One that could transfer symptoms from one person to another?

But he didn’t have to wonder long.

Wen Chenxi leaned in and whispered something in his ear.

Zhuang Yanyu’s face immediately flushed, and he shyly asked,

“Isn’t that kind of… weird?”

He didn’t have much real-world experience, but this definitely felt strange.

Wen Chenxi calmly replied,

“You didn’t know? Good brothers do this kind of thing all the time.”

Zhuang Yanyu blinked in disbelief. “Really?”

Wen Chenxi lied without a shred of guilt:

“Of course. But it’s only something the best of brothers would do.”

Zhuang Yanyu’s first reaction was,

“Did you do this with Li Xi or Ji Zhiyuan too?”

Wen Chenxi couldn’t help admiring how Zhuang Yanyu’s mind could still go there in a moment like this.

A bit helpless, but also deeply fond, he replied firmly,

“No. I’ve never done this with them.”

That sense of exclusivity sent a warm wave through Zhuang Yanyu’s chest.

He reached out and grabbed Wen Chenxi’s arm—the one stretched out above him—and said,

“Only with me.”

Wen Chenxi: “Right.”

Zhuang Yanyu, content, hugged his arm tightly.

Only him. And only between the best of brothers.

What did that mean?

It meant he was Wen Chenxi’s absolute best brother!

Even better than Ji Zhiyuan or Li Xi, who had known Wen Chenxi for over twenty years. They couldn’t compare!

Zhuang Yanyu didn’t even need to say yes aloud—his actions made his permission clear.

He even wanted to ask: When will you start helping me, brother?

But before he could get the words out, his body suddenly tensed up.

He froze, completely at a loss.

He didn’t know where to put his hands or feet.

For the first time, he realized—human bodies could really be out of control.

The human body… was terrifying in certain moments!

Ten minutes later.

Zhuang Yanyu’s voice, usually calm and composed, now stammered with uncertainty:

“Are… are you okay now?”

Wen Chenxi burst out laughing:

“That’s what I should be asking you. Xiao Yu, are you okay now?”

Zhuang Yanyu suddenly realized—he was the one who’d had the issue in the first place.

And just like flipping a switch, the moment Wen Chenxi said that, Zhuang Yanyu felt like his soul left his body.

He felt like he’d turned back into a chip, while his physical body had completely detached from his control.

He stared blankly at the ceiling for a long time before softly murmuring, “…I’m okay now.”

Wen Chenxi was completely charmed by him, the smile on his lips never once fading.

How could this person hit all of his soft spots so perfectly?

Ever since Zhuang Yanyu started “being human,” this was the first time he had stayed up past midnight.

And now, it was nearly 1 a.m.

Yet he still hadn’t recovered from the emotions of earlier.

When Wen Chenxi came out of the bathroom, he saw Zhuang Yanyu sitting there in a daze.

Wen Chenxi glanced at him and, seeing no signs of disgust or discomfort on his face from what had just happened, finally let out a small sigh of relief.

Wen Chenxi: “Xiao Yu?”

Zhuang Yanyu slowly turned his head to meet his gaze.

For some reason, just thinking about what had happened made Zhuang Yanyu feel a little embarrassed.

Human bodies were really too strange sometimes!

Wen Chenxi asked, “Still not going to sleep? It’s almost 1 a.m.”

Zhuang Yanyu: “I’m thinking.”

Wen Chenxi: “Thinking about what?”

Zhuang Yanyu gave him a glance, then silently pulled out his phone and began typing away, clearly searching something.

Seeing that he wouldn’t say anything, Wen Chenxi suddenly got a little nervous.

He worried that Zhuang Yanyu was only now processing what had happened, and that he might be searching to confirm whether such a thing between two men was wrong or abnormal.

This was exactly why Wen Chenxi had always hesitated to take the next step.

Zhuang Yanyu sometimes really was… like reinforced steel wrapped in concrete.

Everyone knew that if a straight guy found out you had feelings for him, the most likely outcome was total cutoff—no goodbye, just gone.

And how could Wen Chenxi bear to be cut off by this Yu?

Just as Wen Chenxi was growing increasingly anxious, Zhuang Yanyu set down his phone and mumbled to himself,

“So it is a real thing…”

Wen Chenxi’s heart tensed. “What is?”

Zhuang Yanyu answered a bit sheepishly, “What you just helped me with…”

Wen Chenxi: “…You were looking that up?”

Zhuang Yanyu nodded: “Yeah. That topic was a blind spot in my knowledge.”

Back when he first met Ah Xi, he had looked up a lot of “things you must do with your best bros” online.

He’d made a list of all those things.

He and his bros had done most of the usual ones—but not this one Wen Chenxi just mentioned!

That was his oversight…

Zhuang Yanyu: “I didn’t realize—there are actually quite a lot of best bros who help each other that way.”

Then he looked seriously at Wen Chenxi.

“Ah Xi, next time I’ll help you too.”

Wen Chenxi: “…”

He suddenly didn’t know if this was a great beginning… or the beginning of something completely chaotic.

Maybe it was because they had just ticked off another one of those “must-do” bro items, but Zhuang Yanyu finally lay back down with a satisfied heart, feeling truly at peace.

Wen Chenxi saw him lying down, tucked the blanket over him out of habit, and lay down beside him again.

The moment he did, Zhuang Yanyu naturally nestled over without hesitation.

Wen Chenxi helplessly pulled him into his arms.

Just as Zhuang Yanyu’s eyes were closing and sleep was beginning to take over, he suddenly heard Wen Chenxi ask softly:

“Xiao Yu… do you hate what happened just now?”

Zhuang Yanyu blinked open slightly, his voice already sleepy and hazy, but still answered honestly:

“No, I don’t hate it.”

Wen Chenxi smiled again—as if he’d just won the lottery—and finally fell asleep in peace.

The next morning.

Zhuang Yanyu, still ruled by his internal biological clock, woke up right on time.

5:30 a.m.—his designated time for running.

The reason he trained so early was because he had work Monday through Friday.

So he chose to work out in the morning.

Only… last night he had gone to bed way too late.

He had barely slept a few hours in total, and sat on the bed spacing out longer than usual.

As soon as he moved, Wen Chenxi stirred awake too.

“You’re getting up this early, Xiao Yu?”

Zhuang Yanyu replied groggily, “I need to exercise. Gotta run eight kilometers today.”

Wen Chenxi: “…”

Without thinking, he pressed the other back onto the bed.

“Don’t work out today. Sleep a bit more.”

Zhuang Yanyu kicked his legs in the air, didn’t kick anything, and stubbornly said,

“No. I want to build muscle.”

Wen Chenxi poked his dimple and said,

“Ever heard this saying? ‘Late nights + intense workouts = sudden death.’”

Zhuang Yanyu’s brain, like a lagging old machine, slowly began searching for data on that topic.

Finally, he found a result.

Turns out, long-term sleep deprivation + intense exercise really did increase the risk of sudden death.

Zhuang Yanyu gave up: “Oh.”

Wen Chenxi: “So sleep more. Sleep is important.”

Zhuang Yanyu: “Right. Sleep is important.”

Giving up on his workout, he closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

Wen Chenxi watched his breathing even out and smiled faintly.

It seemed… he had just discovered a way to make this Yu give up muscle training?

Hmm… all he had to do was delay his bedtime just a little. Say, until midnight.

That way, waking up at 5:30 would mean insufficient sleep.

Given Zhuang Yanyu’s devotion to healthy living, he might actually give up early-morning workouts.

Wen Chenxi began planning in his head:

What kinds of things could make Zhuang Yanyu stay up late every night?

When Zhuang Yanyu fully woke up, it was already 7:30 a.m.

This was the first time he had ever gotten up so late, while Wen Chenxi had already finished making breakfast.

On the way to the company, Wen Chenxi received a WeChat message from his younger brother, Zhou Qingcheng, saying he had re-added Zhuang Yanyu as a friend. The WeChat contact had actually been passed to him by their mother.

Wen Chenxi casually mentioned it to Zhuang Yanyu, reminding him to accept the request when he had time.

Zhuang Yanyu replied with a quick “sure,” but once he got out of the car and arrived at the engineering department, he chose to ignore the friend request from Zhou Qingcheng.

He didn’t reject it either.

Rejecting it outright would be too obvious, so he just pretended he hadn’t seen it.

The first time he was rejected, Zhou Qingcheng believed his brother’s explanation—that Zhuang Yanyu might have accidentally tapped the wrong button. That didn’t seem strange.

But when the second friend request went unanswered, with not even a response, Zhou Qingcheng started getting confused.

Especially since he had even reminded his brother to tell his future sister-in-law.

Zhou Qingcheng was actually quite interested in this “all-round little genius” future sister-in-law his brother talked about.

Especially since this person might actually become family someday—it was never too early to start building a good relationship.

If his brother one day decided to throw in the towel and stop working, then Zhou Qingcheng would be the one stuck inheriting the family business.

Which he had no intention of doing. Absolutely not.

So, on the third morning, when he still saw no sign of the friend request being accepted, Zhou Qingcheng called Wen Chenxi.

He got straight to the point:

“Does your wife not like me or something?”

Wen Chenxi scolded lightly, “Don’t call him that. That’s disrespectful to him.”

Even though he also wished Xiao Yu were already his wife, facts were facts. Since Zhuang Yanyu hadn’t agreed to anything yet, Wen Chenxi didn’t want people casually throwing that term around. If Xiao Yu ended up not wanting to be with him, it would only damage his reputation.

After reprimanding his brother, Wen Chenxi asked,

“Why would you say he doesn’t like you?”

Zhou Qingcheng said, “I sent him a friend request and he still hasn’t accepted it. Didn’t you tell him?”

Wen Chenxi was a bit surprised.

“He still hasn’t accepted it?”

Zhou Qingcheng sent him a screenshot: the first request had been rejected, and the second completely ignored.

Now even Wen Chenxi found it a little odd.

So that evening, on the way home from work, Wen Chenxi brought it up with Zhuang Yanyu.

Zhuang Yanyu’s expression shifted slightly, and he answered vaguely,

“Uh… I’ve just been kind of busy. I forgot…”

Wen Chenxi knew how busy the engineering department could get, so it wasn’t unusual if Xiao Yu missed a notification.

He chuckled lightly and said,

“Ah Cheng was starting to find it strange—how come you’ve added my whole family on WeChat, except for him?”

Zhuang Yanyu: …

Crap.

Looks like he had no choice but to add him now.

He pursed his lips and asked a little aggrieved,

“Ah Xi, why did you want to introduce your brother to me?”

He and Ah Xi had known each other for a while, and this was the first time his “best bro” had ever said he wanted to introduce someone to him.

It made Zhuang Yanyu a bit puzzled.

Why?

The reason was actually simple. Wen Chenxi said,

“I’ve always thought… Xiao Yu, you have too few friends.”

At first, he thought it was because Zhuang Yanyu came from a single-parent household and had been bullied at school.

Or maybe it was just because he was introverted, which made it hard for him to make friends.

But later, Wen Chenxi realized that Zhuang Yanyu wasn’t actually introverted at all. Even though he often spoke in a flat, emotionless tone and was very by-the-book, he was actually really cute, had a great personality, and was super polite.

At least from what Wen Chenxi had observed, everyone who met Zhuang Yanyu liked him. No one rejected him.

Being ostracized? That definitely didn’t fit. In society—way harsher than school—there wasn’t a single person who seemed to dislike him.

Most students in school were still pretty innocent, aside from a few bad eggs.

So what was the reason Zhuang Yanyu had so few friends?

It wasn’t until Wen Chenxi discovered Zhuang Yanyu’s astonishing talent and capabilities that he suddenly realized—it might be because Xiao Yu was too gifted.

Most geniuses were lonely. The way they thought, the way they solved problems—none of it matched the average person.

Which made it hard for them to truly connect with others. That’s why he had so few friends.

Wen Chenxi introduced Zhou Qingcheng to Zhuang Yanyu because his brother shared a lot of similar habits.

He thought maybe his brother and Xiao Yu would have a lot to talk about.

Zhuang Yanyu: “…Oh.”

So I really do have to add him, huh.

In the end, Zhuang Yanyu accepted Zhou Qingcheng’s friend request.

After that, he just stared at the chat window, wondering what Zhou Qingcheng would say to him.

But to his surprise, after becoming friends, Zhou Qingcheng didn’t message him at all for several days.

And Zhuang Yanyu would definitely never be the one to send a message first.

Secretly relieved, he thought—well, maybe this wasn’t such a big deal after all.

Until a week later.

Zhuang Yanyu was still at work when he received a package.

At the same time, Wen Chenxi called him, saying the package was something he had sent over.

Zhuang Yanyu asked curiously,

“What is it?”

Wen Chenxi replied,

“Open it. I think you’ll like it.”

With curiosity, Zhuang Yanyu began unboxing the parcel. It was packed very securely, with multiple layers of tape—as if the contents were fragile.

Once he finally got it open, he saw a palm-sized… realistic-looking robot.

Zhuang Yanyu: “Why is it a robot?”

Wen Chenxi smiled as he explained, “It’s a gift from Ah Cheng. He said since my mom gave you a red envelope, he should also give you a welcome gift. But he can’t come back anytime soon, so he sent this instead. This simulation robot uses the control system he’s currently developing. It’s really smart—almost ready to hit the market. He wanted to give you one early to try it out.”

A robot…

Zhuang Yanyu inexplicably shivered. Why was he suddenly getting a robot?

Still, out of courtesy, after hanging up the call with Wen Chenxi, he messaged Zhou Qingcheng on WeChat to thank him.

To his surprise, Zhou Qingcheng wasn’t busy today and replied instantly:

[Zhou Qingcheng]: “Do you like it?”

[Zhuang Yanyu]: “Thank you, I do.”

[Zhou Qingcheng]: “Glad to hear it. My brother said you enjoy tinkering with stuff like this, so I figured I’d send it to you to play with. The control system is something I wrote myself. Its language and communication abilities are really close to super-intelligent AI.”

[Zhuang Yanyu]: “That’s amazing.”

[Zhou Qingcheng]: “Not really, I just got the inspiration from a novel.”

[Zhuang Yanyu]: “A novel?”

[Zhou Qingcheng]: “Yeah, do you read novels? The kind with embedded systems.”

[Zhuang Yanyu]: “?????”

[Zhou Qingcheng]: “Every time I read that kind of novel, I wonder—where exactly in the body would the system be? How does it function? How small must the processor be to perfectly integrate with the human nervous system? Is it in the central nervous system? Then what powers it? How can it run nonstop, processing everything constantly?”

Zhuang Yanyu: !!!!!

His face nearly turned white.

But Zhou Qingcheng, on the other end of the conversation, was clueless. He kept going:

[Zhou Qingcheng]: “They say art imitates life. When authors create these novels, have they actually seen this kind of thing? Or are they just imagining it? And the very first person to come up with this system concept—how did they know so much detail?”

[Zhou Qingcheng]: “You love this kind of stuff too, right? So you probably understand what I mean?”

Then—ping! A red exclamation mark appeared.

System Notification: Zhuang Yanyu has enabled friend verification. You are not currently friends. Please send a request to chat.

[Zhou Qingcheng]: “???”

System Notification: Friend verification enabled…

Left with no choice, Zhou Qingcheng called his brother:

“I think your wife really doesn’t like me.”

Even after sending him a gift!

Wen Chenxi replied firmly: “Impossible. Xiao Yu’s kind to everyone. I’ll ask him.”

Since calling wasn’t appropriate during work hours, Wen Chenxi messaged Zhuang Yanyu instead:

[Wen Chenxi]: “Xiao Yu, are you busy? Ah Cheng said you deleted him—what happened?”

System Notification: Zhuang Yanyu has enabled friend verification. You are not currently friends…

Wen Chenxi: “????”

Author’s note:

PS—

Yuyu: TAT I told you we should stay away from people researching microchips, they’re terrifying!

President Wen: I don’t think I want this little brother anymore!

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