The “Bear” and the Rabbit

No matter how much Ye Shengge hoped it was just a joke, he could not change the fact that the childhood friend’s business partner was on his way to explain that he had no romantic involvement with Wen Jishi.

The moment Wen Jishi hung up the phone with that authoritative demand, Ye Shengge’s fate was sealed.

He was destined to suffer “social death” in front of a stranger, destined to leave an impression of being an unreasonable brat, destined to…

Before Ye Shengge could fully digest these cruel facts, Wen Jishi spoke again.

“He’ll be here soon to clear this up. Will you… believe what I say then?” After hanging up, Wen Jishi hesitated for two seconds before looking at Ye Shengge and asking softly.

There wasn’t a trace of embarrassment or awkwardness on his face; there was only that gentle smile and a calm, composed demeanor.

It was as if calling a busy business partner over just to settle a minor spat caused by his neighbor’s “unreasonable” jealousy was the most natural thing in the world.

Ye Shengge truly felt that if Wen Jishi were an ancient emperor, he would definitely be a tyrant—the kind who spent all day finding ways to torment his ministers for his own amusement.

But things had reached this point. No matter how he struggled, he couldn’t change the fact that the partner was coming.

Ye Shengge didn’t dare to say anything else snarky, fearing he’d invite more trouble. He gave Wen Jishi a dejected glance, muttered a few “mm-hmms,” and stared at the floor in silence.

Right now, he didn’t really want to deal with this overly “sincere” childhood friend.

Normally, when someone is questioned so unreasonably, shouldn’t their first reaction be anger?

Even if someone tolerated the nagging and explained a few words, it should be with an “acre-it-or-not” attitude. How could anyone ignore the social awkwardness and go through the immense trouble of calling the other party involved to the house of the person throwing the tantrum just to explain in person?

This “calling someone over immediately” maneuver was something he had never even heard of, let alone seen.

Wen Jishi didn’t know what Ye Shengge was wondering. If he did, he would have told him that seeing his neighbor acting so “unreasonable” didn’t make him angry or impatient; instead, it made him excited and relieved.

Because it meant his neighbor no longer viewed him as just a simple toy, but was actually starting to care about him.

Even if this “care” wasn’t very deep yet, it was enough to make him happy.

“Is there anything else you want me to do? Just say the word, and I’ll make sure it happens,” Wen Jishi said in a light, cheerful tone, clearly in a great mood.

Looking at his serious expression, Ye Shengge hesitated.

He wanted to tell Wen Jishi to call it off—tell the partner to go back where he came from and not come to his house.

But he knew that was impossible.

Setting aside whether Wen Jishi would agree, there was the matter of his character persona.

His job was to maintain the character, not to make the character conform to his personal preferences.

If the dollmaker from the original plot were facing this scene, he wouldn’t feel awkward or embarrassed like Ye Shengge. Instead, he would prepare to stir up even more trouble and wait triumphantly for the partner to arrive at the door.

Thinking of this, Ye Shengge gave his childhood friend a cold snort and said sarcastically: “Let’s settle that first matter before talking about anything else.”

This was a clear refusal to give Wen Jishi any face, showing he was still fixated on the groundless rumors.

— Truly narrow-minded and brainless, Ye Shengge evaluated himself.

However, Wen Jishi seemed to have taken some strange medicine. Even though Shengge was acting like this, he didn’t get angry. Instead, he chuckled, nodded, and said in a doting tone: “Alright. When he gets here, we’ll clear everything up. You won’t be mad at me anymore then, okay?”

Looking at that face which was identical to his real brother’s, Ye Shengge felt incredibly stifled. He had nowhere to vent his temper. He gave a dry “oh,” then turned his back, no longer wanting to look at Wen Jishi. Out of sight, out of mind.

But just because he didn’t want to talk doesn’t mean Wen Jishi—who had longed for his neighbor for a very, very long time—felt the same.

Wen Jishi wished he could talk to him forever.

But his neighbor appeared to have no interest in chatting with him.

Is my topic of conversation too boring? Wen Jishi wondered.

He began to rack his brain for topics his neighbor might be interested in. After searching for a long time and finding nothing, he decided to “treat a dead horse as if it were alive” and steered the conversation toward his neighbor’s hobbies.

But when he remembered what those hobbies were, Wen Jishi suddenly felt a bit jealous, and his words couldn’t help but carry a hint of personal emotion.

“I heard you’ve become very fond of making dolls these past few years. Each one you make looks more like a real person than the last. Many people wanted to buy one from you at a high price, but you refused them all,” Wen Jishi said, testing the waters.

In reality, Wen Jishi knew that to his neighbor, those weren’t just dolls; they were lovers used to displace his own feelings.

Even though the neighbor’s “relationship” with each doll was very short, showing he wasn’t serious, it still made Wen Jishi feel a bit sour. After all, he had been away for so long.

What Wen Jishi found even harder to understand was that despite the high offers, the neighbor had refused to sell.

The neighbor clearly tired of the old and loved the new, abandoning many dolls. Why wouldn’t he sell them?

Even if he wasn’t short on money, surely he wouldn’t mind having more?

Did the neighbor… still have feelings for those dolls in his heart?

The mere thought of that possibility made Wen Jishi’s heart feel tight and bitter. He knew he was a human and shouldn’t be jealous of dolls, but he couldn’t help himself. In a moment of lost focus, the questions slipped out.

But he didn’t regret it, because he desperately wanted to know the answer.

However, Wen Jishi didn’t know that this topic was a landmine for the obsessive dollmaker—and thus, a landmine for Ye Shengge, who was trying hard to maintain the persona.

“Why are you asking that?” Ye Shengge turned back to look at him, speaking fiercely: “That is not something you need to know.”

If this were the dollmaker from the plot, he certainly wouldn’t have let the matter drop with just one harmless sentence. Especially since the person asking was the “brother” who had once abandoned him.

To the dollmaker, who felt he had been forsaken by his childhood friend, the dolls—which had no self-awareness—were his absolute possessions. Let alone selling them to others; even if he didn’t want them anymore and left them to gather dust in the basement, he would never allow anyone else to lay a finger on them.

For the childhood friend to ask such a thing was, in the dollmaker’s eyes, an attempt to make him give his possessions to someone else. This also reminded the dollmaker of the scene where he was abandoned, making his mood go from bad to worse.

Possessions should act like possessions. How could they go against their master’s will or dream of leaving?

Of course, although Ye Shengge had the role of the dollmaker, he hadn’t experienced those events and couldn’t empathize with such extreme, radical thoughts.

He could only do his best not to deviate from the persona, throwing a tantrum with the least hurtful words he could manage to satisfy the system’s rules.

But Wen Jishi didn’t know that.

When he heard his neighbor say, “That is not something you need to know,” the perfect smile on his face nearly cracked. At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of resentment toward those dolls that had changed his neighbor’s personality.

It was all their fault. If not for them, his neighbor would never speak to him like this.

As he thought, a flicker of rage rose in his heart. He wished he could dismantle those dolls right now to see how they would try to act coquettishly in front of his neighbor then.

Ye Shengge happened to catch the flash of anger in Wen Jishi’s eyes and thought the man was getting mad at him.

He let out a sigh of relief, thinking the man was at least “savable,” but at the same time, he was a little worried he might get beaten up.

But he’s so refined and elegant… surely he’s not a violent person?

The atmosphere fell into silence.

No one spoke.

It wasn’t until a rapid knocking sounded at the door that the awkward silence was shattered.

“Is anyone in? Open up!”

“Wen Jishi, are you there? If you don’t open the door, I’m leaving!”

Accompanying the knocking was a booming, energetic voice.

It was a voice that made one feel comfortable, radiating vigor and vitality.

“Coming,” Wen Jishi stood up to open the door.

In the process, Ye Shengge quickly slipped to the other side of the sofa, curling himself up and trying his best to lower his presence.

He hadn’t forgotten: the person about to walk in was the business partner called here to explain that there was nothing between them.

It was too embarrassing.

If he could, Ye Shengge truly wanted to just run away.

But even if he didn’t want to see the partner, the man had already entered.

Seeing the youth curled up on the sofa with his back turned, only a small tuft of messy hair visible, the man following Wen Jishi couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow: “Wen Jishi, is this the reason you called me all this way? Do you have any idea how busy I am?”

Though his tone was teasing, anyone could hear that he wasn’t very happy.

And it made sense. Imagine a business partner calling you out of the blue, sounding frantic, and then hanging up before you could ask a single question.

You rush over in a panic, thinking there’s a major crisis to solve, only to be told it’s a jealous spat between a young couple and you’re there to help explain…

Just thinking about it was stifling and infuriating, let alone having it actually happen to you.

The internally annoyed man stared intently at the youth’s tuft of hair, desperate to see what was so special about this person that a man as calm and self-contained as Wen Jishi had pined for him for so many years, turning into this “tyrant” who couldn’t tell right from wrong.

But no matter what was special about this boy, he was confident he wouldn’t lose his mind like Wen Jishi.

At least, that’s what he thought before he saw the youth.

It wasn’t until he walked around to the front of the sofa that he clearly saw the exquisite boy—eyes rimmed with red, clutching a carrot-shaped pillow piteously, curled up in the sofa like a frightened little animal.

Hearing a stranger’s footsteps, the boy slowly looked up, glancing at him timidly.

Perhaps frightened by the stranger’s fierce expression and overly robust, powerful physique, a layer of transparent mist quickly gathered in the boy’s eyes. His wet, red-rimmed eyes made one’s heart ache almost immediately.

In that instant, the man’s muscles tensed. His bulging physique became an impossible-to-ignore presence.

Looking at the boy who seemed to have been bullied to tears, the man’s heart began to beat uncontrollably, giving him the illusion it was about to jump out of his throat.

At this moment, the man finally understood why Wen Jishi had changed so much.

If this rabbit-like, delicate boy were his, let alone calling a partner over to explain a misunderstanding—even if the boy wanted to use him as a horse to ride on the floor, he wouldn’t say a word. He’d probably even feel he was the one taking advantage of the boy by letting him sit on his back.

His gaze toward the youth grew increasingly burning, completely forgetting why Wen Jishi had called him here. He strode to the sofa, squatted down carefully, and reached out a large hand toward the boy, showing a goofy smile: “Hello, my name is Peng Biao.”

After speaking, he added sheepishly: “You’re really good-looking.”

However, the boy being praised didn’t look happy; instead, he shuffled backward, looking fearfully at the man’s palm, which was much, much larger than his own.

Although Ye Shengge had been prepared for the partner to be “sturdy,” he didn’t know he would be this sturdy.

He didn’t know how this man grew, but he was at least 190 cm tall.

Furthermore, his muscles were stacked like little mountains; one look was enough to know they were solid and powerful.

Even clothes that would be baggy on others couldn’t hide his physique; instead, the loose casual wear looked like a tight-fitting bodysuit on him.

Every part of this man was ridiculously large compared to the slender, small Ye Shengge.

He was terrified that if the man put that massive hand near him and lost control of his strength for even a second, it would hurt him.

After all, the man was smiling like a total fool. He had no idea why his childhood friend would choose to work with someone like this.