Chapter 3

Song Yuan found this perfectly logical.

He opened Baidu and navigated to the help section.

In his excitement, Song Yuan didn't notice he had clicked into the "Ask a Doctor" interface. The person who answered his query happened to be a psychiatrist from a top-tier hospital.

Song Yuan typed.

"Dear netizens, please tell me how to divorce a husband with a low libido. I need some tips. Thank you very much."

Soon, a "netizen" replied.

This netizen was quite amusing, wearing a white coat and using a blue-background profile picture.

The "netizen" typed a string of ellipses.

"Song Yuan: Please, please, this is very important to me."

"(Rolls around cutely)"

The "typing" status on the netizen's side paused suddenly, then resumed after two seconds.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Song Yuan: It started today!"

"May I ask, am I part of your play?"

What did that mean?

Song Yuan was puzzled. But soon, the other party sent a message.

"Hello, here is a compiled prescription—

① Lovey-dovey OCD: Must act spoiled with your husband every day, or you can’t sleep!

② Separation Anxiety: Panic when not seeing your husband, only clinging to him keeps you alive!

③ Touch Starvation: Unable to walk independently, must stick to him, rub against him!"

"Follow this regimen three times a day, three doses each time. Within a month, the problem will be cured."

This plan was utterly outrageous and thrilling. In the past, Song Yuan would have been extremely embarrassed, but now, he felt nothing.

As long as it helped him get divorced, he was willing to do anything.

After thanking the "AI," he opened his phone and found Gu Jingchi’s WeChat.

He clicked in.

From top to bottom, it was a sea of green one-way arrows—daily greetings with no replies.

[Song Yuan: Good evening~]

Gu Jingchi was slow to reply, so Song Yuan put down his phone and walked to the wardrobe.

The Song family took this banquet extremely seriously. A week ago, Song Shenyu had already sent an assistant to deliver the evening suit, warning Song Yuan to prepare well and not embarrass the family.

But when Song Yuan took the suit out of the dust bag, something felt off.

He put it on and stood in front of the mirror, frowning.

Sure enough, his guess was right—this suit was completely ill-fitting. Song Yuan had a slender frame, while the suit was oversized, making him look like he was drowning in it.

Song Yuan couldn’t help but wonder: no matter how much the Song family excluded him, they shouldn’t sabotage him at such an important event. He frowned, unable to think of a better idiom to describe this family than "amateurish."

Fortunately, the original host shared his major—both were fashion design students. He searched the room and found a familiar set of tools in the corner of the storage room.

After removing the shoulder pads and taking in the shoulder fabric, he stitched it back together. Once he put it on, it fit perfectly.

Song Yuan smiled in satisfaction.

[Song Yuan: Look, I altered the suit myself!]

[Song Yuan: Hands-on-hips.jpg]

[Song Yuan: Praise me, praise me~]

![Song Yuan: Photo]

He sent Gu Jingchi four messages, then switched screens and noticed another notification.

[Jiangcheng W University: Dear student, good evening. Due to your 100% absenteeism rate this semester, your final exam eligibility has been revoked. Please attend the make-up exam next time. Take your coursework seriously, or you will face delayed graduation. Consequences at your own risk.]

Song Yuan: "..."

The original host was really something else—skipping classes entirely!

Before he could process this, his phone vibrated.

[Gu Jingchi: ?]

A single question mark electrified Song Yuan.

[Song Yuan: What’s wrong? OVO]

After a while, Gu Jingchi replied.

[Gu Jingchi: What?]

Confused, Song Yuan scrolled up and saw a red exclamation mark next to the photo he’d tried to send.

Spotty connection—the photo hadn’t gone through.

Online communication dulled the realism of the conversation. Though Gu Jingchi’s messages were cold, they weren’t as terrifying as face-to-face interactions. Song Yuan felt his courage growing and couldn’t resist teasing him.

[Song Yuan: I altered the suit myself (covering eyes shyly)]

[Song Yuan: Do you want to see it?]

[Song Yuan: If you do, send me a message.]

A long time passed with no reply.

Just as Song Yuan thought Gu Jingchi wouldn’t respond, his phone vibrated again.

[Gu Jingchi: No.]

Song Yuan found Gu Jingchi’s reaction hilarious and couldn’t help but laugh.

[Song Yuan: I don’t believe you.]

The reply popped up instantly.

[Gu Jingchi: Whatever you say.]

Song Yuan knew the principle of "little teases often"—the first one shouldn’t be too excessive.

So he held down the photo and hit send.

*

When Gu Jingchi finished handling an international email, a peculiar ID notification caught his eye.

His hand paused for a moment before he opened the chat.

At first glance, Song Yuan’s avatar looked like a small animal, but upon closer inspection, it was a round, shiny glutinous rice ball—so vivid it made one want to pinch it open to see if black sesame paste would ooze out.

A strange glint flickered in Gu Jingchi’s eyes as he skimmed the messages indifferently.

Song Yuan messaged him daily, but today’s were different.

Reason told him he shouldn’t let Song Yuan keep breaching his boundaries. Not rejecting tonight’s meeting request was already irrational enough.

He should reinforce those boundaries starting now.

Before he could finish typing, another photo arrived.

Opening it, he saw a suit—just the clothes, no face.

Gu Jingchi’s confusion deepened.

Normally, scheming people would’ve spammed him with close-up selfies.

But Song Yuan showed no such intention, behaving properly as if just sharing updates.

Once again, his attempts at coldness and testing fell flat.

Expressionless, he flipped his phone face-down on the desk, ignored the message, and prepared for a meeting.

During a break, Gu Jingchi picked up his phone and saw new messages from Song Yuan.

[So nervous, so nervous ><]

[Crying.jpg]

[I’ve never been to such a banquet. There’ll be so many people, right?]

A strange glint flashed in Gu Jingchi’s eyes.

Though usually energetic, he’d struggled to focus earlier. While listening to reports, Song Yuan’s image kept appearing in his mind.

He attributed this anomaly to excessive caution. Perhaps he should treat Song Yuan normally, like anyone else.

[Gu Jingchi: Don’t be nervous.]

Song Yuan had been nervous, but the thought of Gu Jingchi agonizing over how to reply made him smile.

His mood lightened considerably.

[You comforted me, and now I’m not nervous anymore.]

[Thank you~]

[Hug QwQ]

This reaction was entirely unexpected for Gu Jingchi.

But he didn’t dwell on it. A subordinate sent a new work email, so he set his phone aside, leaving Song Yuan behind for now.

The next day.

*

When Song Yuan arrived at the banquet, all eyes turned to him.

Countless gazes held disdain, shock, gossip...

Song Shenyu had arrived early.

Dressed in a sharp black business suit with gold-framed glasses, his eyes behind the lenses were emotionless as they coldly assessed Song Yuan.

Beside him stood a youth who shared some facial resemblance—no doubt the original host’s adopted younger brother, Song Qiao.

The Song family had once been prestigious. As the youngest, Song Qiao was spoiled rotten, taking out his moods by tormenting Song Yuan.

Song Yuan wanted to avoid conflict and turned to leave.

But Song Qiao blocked his path. "Brother, you came alone?"

A clear dig. Song Yuan frowned.

Song Qiao scanned him head to toe. Upon hearing Gu Jingchi wouldn’t attend, his disdain became obvious. "Good. My friends are coming later. I was worried you’d hog all the space."

He usually got his way. Pretending to be nice to Song Yuan was just to leverage the engagement for social gain. Yet the talk about this society wedding paled next to the attention Song Yuan’s face attracted.

Maddening.

Even more maddening was Song Yuan’s indifference to his taunts.

—What’s wrong with him today? His reaction time’s so slow.

"Can’t expect you to understand. It’s not like you have friends. Unlike me—I’ve got too many by accident."

Song Yuan stayed silent for two seconds before replying, "Then be more careful next time. Don’t be so accident-prone."

Song Shenyu: "..."

Onlookers: "..."

"W-what? Explain yourself!" Song Qiao glared. How dare he say that?

And in such a sickeningly sweet tone, as if he were some loving big brother!

People around them started snickering—this time at Song Qiao’s expense.

His face burned with embarrassment. "You did that on purpose!"

To humiliate him publicly.

But Song Yuan didn’t react, making him even angrier.

After watching silently, Song Shenyu finally intervened. "Watch your behavior," he told Song Yuan.

As usual, his favoritism leaned toward his blood brother, Song Qiao. He remained not caring or getting involved with Song Yuan—just observing.

But today, for some reason, Song Yuan simply said, "Oh," without getting angry or making a scene. This unexpected cooperation made Song Shenyu bite back his scolding.

Song Shenyu: "..."

The Song elders arrived late. Unable to cause trouble, Song Qiao gave Song Yuan a dirty look and slipped away.

Song Shenyu greeted the elders while motioning for Song Yuan to stay put. "Find a spot and stay there," he said before walking off.

Finally, some peace.

Song Yuan hadn’t eaten before leaving. Unlike these high-society types who survived on drinks and chatter, he headed straight for the dessert table, grabbing a small cake to fill his stomach.

Once full, he opened his chat with Gu Jingchi.

[Song Yuan: I miss you~]

[Song Yuan: I’m so bored~]

[Song Yuan: Chat with me~]

Like clockwork.

The silly comparison made him smile.

Behind him, a group noticed his grin and found it annoying.

"Shenyu, I heard half of Jiangcheng’s elite have invited Mr. Gu to banquets since his return. We sent an invite too but got no reply. Should we send another?"

"Song Yuan already asked. Mr. Gu said he’s busy."

"Everyone knows he only agreed to the engagement out of contractual obligation. Why would he care?"

"Exactly. Who’d take him seriously? No way he could get Mr. Gu to come."

As the words faded—

A well-dressed young man rushed in frantically.

Leaning close to his elder brother, he whispered urgently.

The brother stiffened. "What did you say?"

Near the control booth, a staff member testing the mic accidentally amplified the young man’s words.

"I said—Mr. Gu, Gu Jingchi, he’s here!"

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