Fish-Fragrant Shredded Pork with Tofu - Finale
Not long after, the hashtag #GuoZeyanTerminatesContractWithEmeraldSkyEntertainment shot to the top of Weibo’s trending list. The internet erupted:
[Why did he suddenly terminate his contract?]
[Emerald Sky just lost half its star power.]
[Did he do it for Yichen?]
Almost immediately, another headline followed:
#Jiang Group Announces Withdrawal of Investment from Emerald Sky
[What’s the connection between Jiang Group and Emerald Sky?]
[Wow, Jiang Group has been the biggest backer for years.]
[Why pull out now?]
[First Guo Zeyan leaves, then Jiang Group pulls funding. Emerald Sky is just an empty shell now.]
I could understand why Guo Zeyan left, but why did Jiang Group pull out?
Qiao Nan snorted, “Oh, this is just the beginning.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, puzzled.
“You’ll see soon enough,” she said, a mysterious smile on her lips.
That afternoon, a video of Li Zixuan confronting me at the company went viral. Everything she said was caught on camera and uploaded online. Soon, netizens dug up old stories of Li Zixuan bullying classmates.
The backlash was instant:
[Who does she think she is, trying to break up my CP?]
[No way I’ll let my ship sink.]
[Li Zixuan looks down on everyone.]
[Did anyone notice Yichen’s manager?]
[That ordinary looking girl?]
[She’s rumored to be Jiang Group’s heiress.]
[For real? The heiress working incognito? No wonder Jiang Group pulled out.]
I showed my phone to Qiao Nan.
She explained everything: her real name was Jiang Nan, the only daughter of Jiang Group. She’d taken a job at a small company for the experience, not wanting to work at the family firm. But after Li Zixuan insulted her, Jiang Nan told her brother, who promptly pulled all their investments.
My contract relationship with Guo Zeyan was about to end. He’d been showing up less and less.
“Men, can’t count on a single one,” Qiao Nan grumbled on my behalf.
I just stared at her. Sometimes, she forgot I was a man too.
Rumors started swirling online that Guo Zeyan and I had broken up. I didn’t know how to respond, so I just went home and buried myself under the covers.
Half-asleep, I heard noises outside my door. I thought it was Qiao Nan.
“Sis Nan?” I called.
No answer.
The room was pitch black. I fumbled for my phone, but couldn’t find it.
“Sis Nan?” I called again.
I saw a vague figure in the dark—definitely not Qiao Nan’s build.
The figure closed the door silently and walked straight toward me.
I sat up, heart pounding. “Who’s there?”
No reply.
Could it be a stalker? But no stalker would be this tall and broad-shouldered. Maybe a burglar? That seemed more likely.
The figure moved fast, pinning me to the bed before I could react. I pressed my hands against his chest, ready to bolt for the kitchen and grab a knife.
Then a familiar scent—oolong tea—hit my nose.
A warm hand gripped my wrist.
The man leaned close, his breath hot on my neck.
“Yichen, just a few days apart and you don’t recognize me?”
“Guo....Guo....Guo…” I stammered, startled out of my wits.
“Guo? Call me ‘husband,’” he teased.
My nerves instantly relaxed.
“How did you get my door code?”
“Silly, I’ve always known it.”
I’d forgotten that when I first took him in, I’d given him the code.
His voice was low and seductive. My throat tightened.
“Guo Zeyan, why are you here?”
“What, are we strangers now?” he teased.
“Of course not,” I blurted, surprised at myself. My heart was pounding.
He was too good at creating tension.
“Aren’t you going to ask what I’ve been doing these days?” he asked.
I turned away, avoiding his gaze.
“Whatever you were doing has nothing to do with me.”
He chuckled, ruffling my hair.
“Heartless as ever. I’ve been busy starting my own company. Haven’t slept in days.”
I noticed the dark circles under his eyes and felt a pang of guilt.
“Then get some rest.”
He dropped his chin onto my shoulder, the stubble prickling my skin.
“No rush. If I don’t dote on my wife a little, you’ll forget who I am.”
He cupped the back of my neck, pressing his forehead to mine, his voice husky:
“Okay?”
Every time the mood shifted like this, I told myself to hold back, not to be swept away by this man. But my mind always went blank, and I let him lead me wherever he wanted.
The next morning, Guo Zeyan posted a candid photo of us sleeping together, clearing up the breakup rumors.
[Still together, doing just fine.]
Fans lost their minds.
[Who else woke up to find their CP bowl kicked over?]
[I can be single, but my CP must stay together.]
[No shipping without going a little crazy.]
When I woke up, my body ached all over.
No way. This man.
From now on, we’re sleeping in separate rooms.
After we got together, Guo Zeyan told me the truth:
The “contract relationship” was just a ruse.
He’d used it to keep me close, hoping that fake would become real.
And over time, it did.
The second year we were together, Jiang Nan got married.
Guo Zeyan and I gave her a huge red envelope.
On the envelope, Guo Zeyan had written:
[Guo Zeyan and Lin Yichen wish you: In the name of love, may your lives be long and happy together. Congratulations on your wedding]
In our third year, Guo Zeyan took me to meet his parents.
I was nervous—meeting the family had always seemed impossible for someone like me.
But he held my hand tight, fingers interlaced, and reassured me,
“Don’t worry. My parents are the biggest shippers of our CP.”
He kept me calm the whole way there.
His parents turned out to be warm and welcoming, especially his mom, who brought out a thick album of photos from our public appearances together.
Before we left, she grabbed my hand and said,
“If Zeyan ever bullies you, come straight to me. I’ll set him straight.”
Guo Zeyan promised his mom, “I never will.”
I looked up at him, and he looked down at me.
That’s when I realized:
I’d been quietly, blissfully happy for a long, long time.
End
[Why did he suddenly terminate his contract?]
[Emerald Sky just lost half its star power.]
[Did he do it for Yichen?]
Almost immediately, another headline followed:
#Jiang Group Announces Withdrawal of Investment from Emerald Sky
[What’s the connection between Jiang Group and Emerald Sky?]
[Wow, Jiang Group has been the biggest backer for years.]
[Why pull out now?]
[First Guo Zeyan leaves, then Jiang Group pulls funding. Emerald Sky is just an empty shell now.]
I could understand why Guo Zeyan left, but why did Jiang Group pull out?
Qiao Nan snorted, “Oh, this is just the beginning.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, puzzled.
“You’ll see soon enough,” she said, a mysterious smile on her lips.
That afternoon, a video of Li Zixuan confronting me at the company went viral. Everything she said was caught on camera and uploaded online. Soon, netizens dug up old stories of Li Zixuan bullying classmates.
The backlash was instant:
[Who does she think she is, trying to break up my CP?]
[No way I’ll let my ship sink.]
[Li Zixuan looks down on everyone.]
[Did anyone notice Yichen’s manager?]
[That ordinary looking girl?]
[She’s rumored to be Jiang Group’s heiress.]
[For real? The heiress working incognito? No wonder Jiang Group pulled out.]
I showed my phone to Qiao Nan.
She explained everything: her real name was Jiang Nan, the only daughter of Jiang Group. She’d taken a job at a small company for the experience, not wanting to work at the family firm. But after Li Zixuan insulted her, Jiang Nan told her brother, who promptly pulled all their investments.
My contract relationship with Guo Zeyan was about to end. He’d been showing up less and less.
“Men, can’t count on a single one,” Qiao Nan grumbled on my behalf.
I just stared at her. Sometimes, she forgot I was a man too.
Rumors started swirling online that Guo Zeyan and I had broken up. I didn’t know how to respond, so I just went home and buried myself under the covers.
Half-asleep, I heard noises outside my door. I thought it was Qiao Nan.
“Sis Nan?” I called.
No answer.
The room was pitch black. I fumbled for my phone, but couldn’t find it.
“Sis Nan?” I called again.
I saw a vague figure in the dark—definitely not Qiao Nan’s build.
The figure closed the door silently and walked straight toward me.
I sat up, heart pounding. “Who’s there?”
No reply.
Could it be a stalker? But no stalker would be this tall and broad-shouldered. Maybe a burglar? That seemed more likely.
The figure moved fast, pinning me to the bed before I could react. I pressed my hands against his chest, ready to bolt for the kitchen and grab a knife.
Then a familiar scent—oolong tea—hit my nose.
A warm hand gripped my wrist.
The man leaned close, his breath hot on my neck.
“Yichen, just a few days apart and you don’t recognize me?”
“Guo....Guo....Guo…” I stammered, startled out of my wits.
“Guo? Call me ‘husband,’” he teased.
My nerves instantly relaxed.
“How did you get my door code?”
“Silly, I’ve always known it.”
I’d forgotten that when I first took him in, I’d given him the code.
His voice was low and seductive. My throat tightened.
“Guo Zeyan, why are you here?”
“What, are we strangers now?” he teased.
“Of course not,” I blurted, surprised at myself. My heart was pounding.
He was too good at creating tension.
“Aren’t you going to ask what I’ve been doing these days?” he asked.
I turned away, avoiding his gaze.
“Whatever you were doing has nothing to do with me.”
He chuckled, ruffling my hair.
“Heartless as ever. I’ve been busy starting my own company. Haven’t slept in days.”
I noticed the dark circles under his eyes and felt a pang of guilt.
“Then get some rest.”
He dropped his chin onto my shoulder, the stubble prickling my skin.
“No rush. If I don’t dote on my wife a little, you’ll forget who I am.”
He cupped the back of my neck, pressing his forehead to mine, his voice husky:
“Okay?”
Every time the mood shifted like this, I told myself to hold back, not to be swept away by this man. But my mind always went blank, and I let him lead me wherever he wanted.
The next morning, Guo Zeyan posted a candid photo of us sleeping together, clearing up the breakup rumors.
[Still together, doing just fine.]
Fans lost their minds.
[Who else woke up to find their CP bowl kicked over?]
[I can be single, but my CP must stay together.]
[No shipping without going a little crazy.]
When I woke up, my body ached all over.
No way. This man.
From now on, we’re sleeping in separate rooms.
After we got together, Guo Zeyan told me the truth:
The “contract relationship” was just a ruse.
He’d used it to keep me close, hoping that fake would become real.
And over time, it did.
The second year we were together, Jiang Nan got married.
Guo Zeyan and I gave her a huge red envelope.
On the envelope, Guo Zeyan had written:
[Guo Zeyan and Lin Yichen wish you: In the name of love, may your lives be long and happy together. Congratulations on your wedding]
In our third year, Guo Zeyan took me to meet his parents.
I was nervous—meeting the family had always seemed impossible for someone like me.
But he held my hand tight, fingers interlaced, and reassured me,
“Don’t worry. My parents are the biggest shippers of our CP.”
He kept me calm the whole way there.
His parents turned out to be warm and welcoming, especially his mom, who brought out a thick album of photos from our public appearances together.
Before we left, she grabbed my hand and said,
“If Zeyan ever bullies you, come straight to me. I’ll set him straight.”
Guo Zeyan promised his mom, “I never will.”
I looked up at him, and he looked down at me.
That’s when I realized:
I’d been quietly, blissfully happy for a long, long time.
End
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