Shen Lian was back to spending his days at home cuddling cats and sleeping.
Hu Kailan couldn't bring himself to push him. The money hadn't been worth it; by his reckoning, it didn't even cover the emotional damages.
Meanwhile, Godslayer was getting plenty of attention, though mostly in the form of widespread ridicule.
They had offended so many stars that a single comment from each of their fans was enough to drown the production team. Su Mingyuan bore the brunt of it. Someone had summed him up long ago: [Don't let that spineless, long-suffering look fool you. Give him money, and he'll dare to do anything.]
Shen Lian paid no more attention to any of it. He and Chu Yilan had stayed up rather late last night, leaving him groggy when he woke that morning. After lunch, he reclined on the balcony lounger, drifting toward sleep.
The afternoon breeze felt lovely. It slipped through the gap in the window in soft wisps, drawing Shen Lian's consciousness steadily downward.
His dreams came in scattered fragments. After a while, a tickling sensation traveled from his neck to his face. Shen Lian opened his eyes to the man's finely sculpted profile. He first glanced outside, where the sun was sinking in the west-it was probably six or seven-then turned back and said to Chu Yilan with a smile, "You're home early."
"Mm." Chu Yilan raised a hand to check his forehead. "Aunt Fen said you slept all afternoon."
"I slept well." Shen Lian gently lifted the black-and-white bundle off his stomach and stood with Chu Yilan's help. A moment later, he draped himself bonelessly over the man. "I missed you."
Chu Yilan's brows shifted slightly. He liked hearing that.
Sunlight fell on Shen Lian's wrist, catching a brilliance that was dazzling yet understated.