Translator: ChuRen/ YuQiChen
Wei Tingxiao rarely saw such a lively side of Yan Shu.
This version of Yan Shu made his heart itch even more—he really wanted to pinch his cheek.
That’s exactly what Wei Tingxiao thought, and what he did.
His fingers reached out, and Yan Shu was completely unguarded, allowing his thumb and forefinger to gently pinch the fair, smooth skin.
The simple gesture made both of them freeze in place.
Wei Tingxiao’s fingers felt hot; the touched spot was irresistibly soft.
Such tender skin—even with very light pressure—left a faint rosy mark when he released.
That mark slowly faded over time, as if trying to hide the mischief just done.
Yan Shu inexplicably tensed up, blinking rapidly before quickly lowering his head.
Since coming into this world, he had gradually gotten used to occasional physical contact between same-sex friends.
But when Wei Tingxiao touched him, his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.
A feeling called shyness surged up, painting a flush across his cheeks.
Wei Tingxiao noticed Yan Shu’s embarrassment and teasingly said in his usual tone, “Don’t call out like that next time, it’ll cause trouble.”
“Mm…” Yan Shu obediently nodded, whispering, “Just wanted to tease you a little.”
“Teasing me is fine—I’m not one to avoid play—but… if it comes from you…” Wei Tingxiao looked into Yan Shu’s eyes, “I tend to take it seriously.”
The air around them seemed to slow down, the atmosphere growing oddly intimate.
Until a carefree little brat broke the moment.
“Ge! Come look! A huge longhorn beetle!” Wei Jiaheng squatted by a leaf, loudly calling Wei Tingxiao over.
Wei Tingxiao: “…” Facepalming.
“Wow, those antennae look like whips, so cool! The bugs in the mountains really are big. When we had nature practice lessons as kids, we never saw a longhorn this big.”
Wei Jiaheng kept babbling on.
Wei Tingxiao, embarrassed, turned to Yan Shu and said, “That’s just how he is—loud and fussing. Just ignore him.”
Yan Shu smiled, “He’s pretty outgoing, which isn’t a bad thing. Were you like that when you were a kid?”
Wei Tingxiao quickly clarified, “I wasn’t as wild as him. When I was young, I was the leader of all the kids in our neighbourhood—everyone listened to me.”
Talking about his past, Wei Tingxiao’s tail started wagging again.
Yan Shu followed along, “You’re still a king in the industry now—you’re the movie emperor.”
“That’s nothing worth mentioning. I debuted early and had some luck. To be honest, it was just good fortune—meeting a great director, landing a good role; the chance to become famous overnight is pretty high,” Wei Tingxiao explained.
“Luck is part of strength, too. In my eyes, your hard work counts more. Having an idol like you as a role model must make your fans really happy,” Yan Shu said sincerely.
He wasn’t flattering or sucking up; he truly believed this.
But after speaking, he noticed Wei Tingxiao’s expression had changed.
His gaze started to linger.
“So what about you? Are you one of my fans?” Wei Tingxiao asked.
He suddenly recalled Yan Shu’s repeated likes on his fan club posts. This person was pretty subtle—he’d been in front of him this whole time, but never once asked for an autograph.
“I… I don’t know if I count,” Yan Shu said awkwardly, since he hadn’t actually watched any of Wei Tingxiao’s dramas.
“You visit my fan club and keep liking stuff—doesn’t that count? Huh?” Wei Tingxiao decided to call it out. Since Yan Shu just teased him earlier, he wanted to tease back.
Even if Yan Shu denied it out of shyness, Wei Tingxiao didn’t mind. There was no need to hide it.
“Huh?”
The shy or embarrassed look Wei Tingxiao expected didn’t show up.
Yan Shu just stood there with his mouth slightly open, his face expressing total confusion.
Was he pretending not to know?
No, Yan Shu wasn’t one to tell such a lie. Was that whole thing from before really just his agency trying to ride Wei Tingxiao’s popularity for marketing?
“How did you know I visited your Weibo super topic? But… I only looked—I didn’t like any posts,” Yan Shu wondered aloud.
He almost thought Wei Tingxiao had some special ability—how else could he so accurately discover something Yan Shu did long ago?
The great movie emperor sensed this was not so simple; there must be some misunderstanding.
He dug up the old chat records from the fan group and showed Yan Shu screenshots of the likes he had given.
“You didn’t just like posts from my fans, but liked a whole series of them.”
“Ah?!” Yan Shu panicked and hurriedly opened his Weibo, “How… how do I check this?”
Wei Tingxiao’s internet was faster. He took Yan Shu’s phone and quickly opened the [Likes/Collections] section, which displayed all of [My Likes].
As he scrolled, he showed Yan Shu, “Look, see how many you liked?”
“Ah!”
Yan Shu let out a tiny cry, his neck and face visibly reddening by the second.
Hearing Yan Shu’s progressively embarrassed “ah”s, Wei Tingxiao was sure this was just a mix-up.
“I-I didn’t know I liked all those. I thought I was just browsing…” Yan Shu stammered.
Wei Tingxiao covered his mouth, laughing, “So, it was a finger slip?”
Yan Shu: “…”
He finally understood what people meant by “social death” online; this was exactly that mortified feeling in his bones.
Saying a finger slip seemed only partly true—who accidentally presses ‘like’ that thoroughly on every post?
He’d been a total noob with electronics, barely knowing how to use apps. Just casually browsing Wei Tingxiao’s super topic had caused such an embarrassing situation.
Ugh, he vowed never to use Weibo again.
Seeing Yan Shu’s expression shift from extreme shyness to frustration, Wei Tingxiao couldn’t hold back laughter.
“It’s okay. It’s been so long, no one remembers. Thanks to my fans, you didn’t even appear on trending searches. Very few people know about this.”
Wei Tingxiao softened and reached out to ruffle Yan Shu’s hair, comforting him like an older brother.
“Good thing I retired from the industry. That was really a wise decision.” Yan Shu cheered himself up, and soon enough, he got over it.
“I think you made the right choice—following your heart. Some flowers are destined to bloom in different fields.”
What Wei Tingxiao really wanted to say was: You’ve always shone brightly in my eyes.
He had noticed, ever since Yan Shu was just an overlooked idol.
…
By evening, the family gathered around the table, with wine and dishes spread before them.
“Uncle Yan, Uncle Lan, and Grandma, thank you so much for having us today. It’s hard work preparing such a big meal. I toast to you all,” Wei Tingxiao said, downing a small cup of wine in one go.
“Xiao Wei, you’re too polite. We make these dishes to be enjoyed by guests. Our family is small with few relatives around, so having you here is lively and joyful!”
Zhou Huaixiu hadn’t been this happy in years. Seeing the younger generation warmed her heart, making her feel much younger herself.
Before long, Wei Jiaheng imitated his cousin and raised his cup in a toast.
He still had much to learn about social graces from his cousin.
Although he had been reserved when they arrived in the morning, he gradually loosened up, happily calling out “Grandma” and “Uncle” with every mouthful.
The New Year’s Eve dinner lasted two whole hours, and the night had grown completely dark.
The family TV played various gala shows, perfectly matching the warm atmosphere of reunion. Everyone’s mood was high.
“Look at all these stars at the gala. Shouldn’t you be up there too?” Yan Shu felt Wei Tingxiao’s presence on TV would be fitting.
Yet here was the big celebrity sitting in his home, having dinner with his family—a strange feeling.
This man, who should be untouchable, was now so close…
“For Director Wu’s drama, I told my agent to reject some invitations. I’m skipping all unrelated events. Plus, I don’t have much talent to speak of. Honestly, if I had to sing on stage, I’d rather be exhausted filming ten dramas back to back,” Wei Tingxiao complained.
He had attended some provincial TV gala shows before, but standing there singing one song was the limit of his capabilities. The rest, he wasn’t good at and didn’t feel comfortable doing.
But Yan Shu… singing and dancing? Not bad at all…
Wei Tingxiao deeply respected and supported Yan Shu’s choices. Whether or not Yan Shu liked singing and dancing or performed well didn’t matter to him. What mattered most was that Yan Shu could be himself and pursue his own dreams.
Whoosh—boom!
As the New Year’s bell was about to chime, fireworks burst in the distant sky. Yan Shu led Wei Tingxiao and the others out to the courtyard to watch.
Though the fireworks seemed close, they were actually quite far from the mountain they were on.
“It’s probably the county town putting on the show. We can still see it clearly from here,” Yan Shu explained.
“Wow! So beautiful!” Wei Jiaheng hurriedly took out his phone to take photos and videos.
Wei Tingxiao also stared mesmerised at the fireworks blooming in the dark night, feeling that this moment was truly wonderful.
Glancing sideways at Yan Shu’s face, he saw the brilliant fireworks reflected in his eyes, bursting one by one, shining then fading in the deep night.
Time around them seemed to slow suddenly; the noisy voices of his cousin grew quieter and more distant.
A barrier enclosed only him and the boy before him, blocking out everything else beyond a transparent shield.
At that moment, the boy turned back to look at him. Their eyes met, no longer reflecting fireworks, but each other’s forms.
In that small world just for two, Wei Tingxiao clearly heard the beat of his own heart.
He wished time would freeze at that instant—allowing him to slightly hide his nervous expression, and greedily take another longing glance at the boy’s face.
“Happy New Year, Tingxiao-ge!”
Only after this greeting was spoken did Wei Tingxiao step out from his barrier. Time resumed its normal flow, sounds from afar gradually becoming clear.
Yan Shu gave a pure smile, simple and sincere as he met Wei Tingxiao’s gaze.
Wei Tingxiao’s mind short-circuited.
The following “Happy New Year” slid past his brain like a reflex; it never truly registered.
His mouth felt dry, his tongue thick, and a hint of guilt made him want to escape.
The purer Yan Shu was, the more it stirred Wei Tingxiao’s heart.
In that fleeting moment, he actually had the impulse to pull the boy into his embrace.
Had he been single too long that his body now cried out in desperate hunger?
Harbouring illicit thoughts for someone eight years younger, Wei Tingxiao found it incredible.
Could it really be that Luo Xiu was right?
Was he a pervert?
“Tingxiao-ge, are you tired? Are you okay?” Yan Shu noticed Wei Tingxiao zoning out and asked with concern.
Wei Tingxiao awkwardly waved his hand, “N-no, I’m fine…”
I’m not tired. I’m a pervert.
No reuploading anywhere else.
Support the author 橙子不涩 by buying chapters on jjwxc!!
Your ko-fi donations would be greatly appreciated.
If you don’t know what to read next you can try these out
[Quick Transmigration] The Paranoid Villain is Coveting the Beautiful Cat Again
I’m currently translating these novels as well~
Ko-fi goals? Extra chapter release once we reach our goal!!
2 thoughts on “Chapter 36 – Happy New Year”
🤣🤣🤣
He’s a clown