Even A Heartthrob Can Lose A Puppy - Chapter 4

“Si Yu, look over here!”

“Si Yu, Si Yu!”

“Look right here, look right here!”

In front of the exhibition board stamped with the massive logo of a luxury brand, Si Yu waved at the lenses while photographers shouted over one another, almost drowning out the screams of fans outside the venue.

Si Yu raised a hand to lightly flick a strand of golden hair. Though intended to showcase the brand’s diamond wristwatch, everyone’s gaze remained fixed entirely on his face.

Flawless from every angle, capturing countless rolls of film, breathtaking enough that even if the Grim Reaper stood behind you holding a scythe, he would wait until you finished taking pictures of Si Yu and screamingly posted on Weibo: Mom, I just saw a deity, before swinging it.

Si Yu’s condition at tonight’s event was remarkably good, making it hard to imagine that he had just stepped off a flight and spent less than two hours on hair and makeup.

Seeing Si Yu actively performing his duties just like always, dutifully posing for photos, shaking hands, and hugging fans one by one, Nie Shuang’s suspended heart finally settled back into place.

Si Yu’s temper might be a bit rough on ordinary days, but his state during professional engagements and his daily attitude toward fans and audiences were genuinely beyond reproach.

Sometimes Si Yu acted as though he looked down on everyone, but he always adhered to one core principle: only the audience and consumers were his true meal tickets.

Therefore, the moment his obligations ended, Si Yu, the top sales-generator of tonight’s high-end luxury brand event, returned straight to the backstage without lingering to clink glasses with the senior executives.

Even so, the artists and teams from various corners of the entertainment industry, riddled with eight hundred schemes each, could not mask a thick reek of jealousy.

“I had already passed my one-year probation period, and then he just parachuted in. It is so damn annoying!”

“Oh please, you are merely a luggage-line ambassador. He is a global brand ambassador! How is that comparable to parachuting into your territory? Laughable.”

Two artists signed under the same agency, TK, disliked the crowded shared dressing room and brought their assistants to an empty, spacious suite, aiming their verbal artillery squarely at Si Yu, who had stolen all the media spotlight.

“Ha, look who is talking, you mere brand friend! The clothes you want to wear are always the leftovers Si Yu rejected.”

“Well, who can blame it? He is TK’s top brother after all. President Shen feeds him all the best resources. We should just be grateful for the scraps.”

The former, a newcomer who had recently transferred to TK, leaned in closer and asked, “Say, I heard rumors that he and that President Shen have a special relationship?”

The latter sneered. “Don’t go spreading nonsense. They’ve known each other since high school and built their careers together in a pure friendship! When TK went public and rang the bell, President Shen even held him close like a precious treasure while attending.”

“Could that possibly be fake? Just looking at Si Yu’s face tells you he is the type who…”

Bang!

The door of the dressing room was kicked open.

The two turned around in panic as Si Yu led a large entourage into the room, letting out a yawn.

Seeing him, they hurriedly stood up and retreated to the side, leaving the sofa entirely for Si Yu.

“Tasty! Divine! Sweet!”

Lying on the sofa, Si Yu tapped away at a brightly colored mobile game as various sound effects blared from the screen.

The two exchanged a stealthy glance and tiptoed toward the exit.

“I haven’t finished listening yet.”

Si Yu’s voice drifted from behind.

They froze and turned around to see Si Yu putting his phone down, looking at them with a half-smile.

“When you looked at my face, what did you think I was?”

Si Yu sat up and accepted a sparkling water from his assistant. He tilted his head back as his stylist removed his bowtie, watch, and various accessories; then he closed his eyes as his makeup artist gently wiped away the stage makeup.

By the time Si Yu finished applying his warm towel, his patience had run dry, and he walked up to the stammering pair.

“Si Yu-ge, we didn’t mean it like that…”

“We were just chatting about how incredible your styling was tonight, honestly no other intentions.”

Si Yu pressed his lips together, thoughtfully patting both of their shoulders.

He had to admit he was quite satisfied with how physically tense and trembling their reactions were.

“Those so-called S-plus costume dramas President Shen has been investing in lately keep losing money, and the two of you have certainly contributed quite a bit to that.”

Neither dared to breathe loudly.

“Whether through commercial sponsorship or financing, every single penny spent on you includes a share of mine.”

“Yes, Si Yu-ge, we know.”

“So don’t think that just because you have mouths, you can run your tongues behind my back. If I hear anything like that again…”

Si Yu grabbed their shoulders tightly, leaning close to their ears.

“Not only will I let you experience firsthand whether the rumors about Si Yu having a terrible temper are true, but I will also make you regret not going to a factory to tighten screws sooner.”

Releasing his grip, Si Yu took a wet wipe from his assistant to cleanse his hands, raised an eyebrow, and asked, “Understood?”

“Understood!”

“Understood!”

Tossing the used wipe into the trash can, Si Yu turned and walked toward the door.

“Tell Shen Que that someone used my dressing room. I am allergic to the air breathed by fools, so I won’t be attending tomorrow’s meeting.”

“Did he really say that?”

“Yes, President Shen.”

Shen Que wore a dark blue shirt with his cuffs casually rolled up. His slicked-back black hair, which had been immaculate for the banquet earlier, now had a few strands falling loose, exuding an indescribable sexiness.

He rolled his neck, leaned back into his chair, and asked, “Who used his dressing room?”

Shen Que’s question was rhetorical, so the assistant remained silent.

“Cut the management team’s KPI bonuses and allowances for this month.”

“Understood, President Shen.”

Shen Que rubbed the watch dial on his wrist, fell silent for a moment, and asked, “Has he returned home yet?”

“Yes, he has already arrived.”

“Prepare the car.”

Just as Shen Que stood up, the office door pushed open, accompanied by a soft, coquettish male voice.

“President Shen, why didn’t you wait for me to come back together?”

The person who entered bore a faint resemblance to Si Yu, but his facial features were far less refined, and even his physique and temperament were worlds apart.

Still, bearing a slight resemblance was already enough.

“Aren’t you filming tomorrow?”

Without stopping his stride, Shen Que pulled the person by the waist and walked toward the exit.

“Filming is nothing compared to keeping you company!”

“What a sweet mouth.”

Shen Que stopped in front of the elevator held by his assistant and patted the person’s cheek. “Too sycophantic though, not like him at all. Go back now.”

With that, Shen Que pinched the person’s chin as if handling a small pet and stepped into the elevator.

When Shen Que arrived to find Si Yu, Si Yu was standing in the backyard of the villa, the very backyard that had failed to bloom a single flower ever since He Yun left.

He had no idea how He Yun tended and cared for those plants. After all, whenever he was home, He Yun would only revolve around him entirely.

Anything that might distract He Yun’s attention would be ruthlessly discarded by Si Yu: “And I mean you!”

Frowning in irritation, Si Yu glared at the dust-covered pickled vegetable jar tucked in the corner.

The moment he turned around, he spotted Shen Que standing outside the courtyard gate.

The black suit Shen Que wore practically blended him into the night, so Si Yu simply chose to pretend he didn’t see him and walked away.

“Why didn’t He Yun come back with you?”

Si Yu stopped with one foot on the steps, refusing to turn around. “None of your business.”

“You delayed your work.”

“Oh, cancel my contract then.”

Bang!

Si Yu slammed the door shut with tremendous force, answering Shen Que’s hypocritical concern.

Returning to a house saturated with He Yun’s traces, Si Yu found that he could no longer see He Yun here.

He knew better than anyone that the He Yun of the past year was merely an illusion.

Yet now, having truly seen He Yun and experienced his utterly cold rejection, Si Yu had even lost the privilege of holding onto that illusion.

He couldn’t breathe. He wanted to escape.

Looking at the passport, phone, and house keys spread across the coffee table, He Yun twisted his fingers tightly together.

“How come that little corn-stalk hasn’t come over these past few days?”

“What corn-stalk, he’s a huge celebrity! Could he possibly stay here forever?”

While they were speaking, a figure dressed in black darted past the two of them.

They exchanged glances.

“Was that the He family kid? Is he leaving the island?”

“Truly, strange things happen every year, but this year has an extra lot.”

Inside the dilapidated, dim Beidao train station hall, the ticket clerk was startled by the man who suddenly appeared at the counter.

“Where to?”

“Huaicheng Airport.”

Dressed entirely in black, the man had most of his face concealed behind a black face mask and a windbreaker hood, leaving only his eyes visible.

His hands gripped the straps of his backpack tightly as he kept his gaze lowered, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

He Yun’s bizarre behavior drew curious glances from airport security staff, who spent a long time examining his passport.

Landing in Jiangcheng.

He watched the blue dot on his phone screen move continuously along the streets. Sliding across the map, his fingertip finally stopped at the home where he and Si Yu had spent two years together.

The exit of Terminal 3 opened onto an overhead bridge. Below it stood lines of neatly parked yellow taxis, while tourists on the bridge snapped photos with phones and cameras.

Standing among them, He Yun’s superior height drew the sideways glances of many passersby, yet every step he took seemed exceptionally arduous.

“You cannot show your face in public.”

“You cannot use social media.”

“You cannot go out with him.”

“You cannot expose your address.”

The taxi driver waited in vain for a reply from the backseat, glanced through the rearview mirror, and switched to accented Mandarin: “Tourist, where are you headed?”

The sudden illumination of a phone screen startled the driver. After catching a glimpse of the neighborhood name displayed on it, the driver muttered about how weird rich people always were.

He Yun removed his mask, cleared the community security gate, and walked past the guard’s standard salute down a path he knew by heart.

He glanced down at his empty hands, which made him dazedly realize that he had not just bought Si Yu’s favorite groceries, nor was he holding Si Yu’s hand on their way home.

Then what was he doing here?

He Yun came to a halt.

Yet, yet Si Yu was hurting.

Closing his eyes tightly, He Yun quickened his pace.

Just one look.

Just to look once.

He Yun spotted Si Yu, seeing him held closely in Shen Que’s embrace.

Shen Que wore only a shirt, while the black light windbreaker that originally belonged to He Yun was draped around Si Yu’s shoulders:

Just like Shen Que’s arms, holding Si Yu’s waist tightly.

Shen Que’s other hand gently cupped Si Yu’s face.

As Shen Que said something with a smile, Si Yu seemed amused as well, burying himself in Shen Que’s arms.

Their lingering embrace made He Yun look like the withered tree behind him, completely out of place in the arrival of spring.

“Darling, you shouldn’t have drunk so much.”

Lifting Si Yu’s chin, Shen Que pulled his gaze away from He Yun’s retreating figure.

“Your puppy looks terribly disappointed, though.”

Si Yu’s head hung limply, the flush on his cheeks and his scattered golden hair serving as the perfect ornaments for his drunkenness.

Gorgeous.

From the moment Si Yu appeared on the school playground wearing a uniform shirt, carrying books, and wearing headphones, he had noticed it.

Shen Que never considered himself a gentleman, and taking advantage of others’ vulnerability wasn’t something he hadn’t done before, but he had never felt an impulse this intense.

Parting Si Yu’s hair, Shen Que closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss him:

Bang!

Shen Que took a solid, direct punch to the face.

As he staggered backward, his arms emptied, and Si Yu was already pulled into He Yun’s embrace.

Wiping a corner of his mouth and looking at the minimal amount of blood on his thumb, Shen Que sneered at He Yun. “You two have already broken up. Do I need to remind you?”

He Yun hoisted Si Yu horizontally into his arms, and the windbreaker draped over Si Yu slid to the ground.

“Oh, so what?”

He Yun walked right over the expensive black garments on the floor, showing zero regard for Shen Que.

“If I ever catch you touching him again, I will hit you again.”

With a dark expression and an aura radiating pure hostility, He Yun strode forward.

He raised a leg and slammed the door shut heavily.

The sound of the slamming door startled the person in his arms, causing Si Yu to furrow his brows slightly and murmur discontentedly, “Shen Que…”

He Yun’s heartbeat hammered against his ribs like a drum, threatening to burst through his chest.

Gritting his teeth and tensing his back, he laid Si Yu gently onto the sofa.

“Shen Que…”

The drunken man kept repeating that name.

“I am not Shen Que.”

“You dare touch me again, and I’ll kill you!”

He Yun blinked, then let out a low chuckle.

“Kill you, He Yun will kill you…”

Murmuring thus, Si Yu slowly opened his eyes.

Through his blurred vision and the pale moonlight pouring in through the European-style French windows, he actually thought he was seeing He Yun.

“Why are you only just getting here…”

Propping himself up on his elbows, Si Yu drifted closer to the illusion before him.

“Why aren’t you smiling? Huh?” Si Yu rubbed and kneaded He Yun’s face. “Even in my own dreams, in my own fantasies, are you still unwilling to smile at me?”

Unable to hold back any longer, Si Yu let the distress of recent days and the grievances of Beidao pour out in tears.

“He Yun, He Yun wouldn’t treat me like this… He Yun, why, why are you doing this to me…”

He slipped off the sofa, but instead of hitting the cold carpet, he landed in a warm embrace.

Unwilling to let go of such a lifelike illusion, Si Yu looped his arms around He Yun’s neck and burrowed deeper into his chest.

He wondered if he had sprayed too much of the perfume He Yun used to wear around the house, causing him to catch that exact scent right now:

Cool, sharp, like a pine forest amid rime frost, yet wrapped in oakmoss and rosemary.

It was the scent He Yun wore when they first met.

London, six years ago.

The wind chime on the photography studio door chimed as it was pushed open. He Yun was looking down, calculating bills, and spoke without raising his head: “Sorry, we’re closed.”

The next second, his wrist was grabbed.

He Yun raised his head and saw a man wearing sunglasses during the Christmas month.

The man took off his sunglasses, revealing a face striking enough to leave him momentarily dazed.

“Save me.”

Si Yu said.