"Wh... what did you say?"
Luo Hang's face suddenly turned deathly pale, losing every trace of color in an instant, as though he might shatter the next second.
Jiang Nan studied his expression, his tone carrying a hint of concern. "Don't do anything drastic. You have to stay strong."
Luo Hang pressed his lips together, straightened his back, and stared ahead. The light turned green, and he started the car, sneering, "I don't need your concern."
Jiang Nan looked innocent. "I don't want to worry either, but you're still driving. What if your bad mood causes an accident?"
The breath Luo Hang had been holding suddenly escaped him.
He shot Jiang Nan a brooding glance and curled his lips. "It's been over a year, and you've gotten even less normal."
Jiang Nan thanked him solemnly. "Thanks for the compliment."
Luo Hang was too exasperated to speak to Jiang Nan again.
The sports car pulled into the hotel's underground parking lot without incident. Luo Hang's palms were slick with sweat.
Without even looking up, he unlocked the doors. "Get out."
Jiang Nan clicked his tongue and glanced at Luo Hang's expression.
The young man's lips were pressed tightly together, his sunglasses hiding every emotion in his eyes.
Recalling the questions Luo Hang had asked him earlier, he offered some tactful advice. "There are so many people coming and going in this world. You don't have to fixate on just one."
Luo Hang thought that there were indeed plenty of people in this world, but he only had eyes for that one person.
Unfortunately, that person cared about many things, and nowhere among them was there any trace of him.
At that thought, Luo Hang gave a self-mocking laugh.
His voice was cold. "Is that any of your business?"
Serves you right for being single!
Jiang Nan cursed inwardly and quietly got out.
Just as he pushed the door open, someone opened the door of the sports car beside him.
He and Shen Xingli stared at each other from mere inches apart.
Jiang Nan was thick-skinned and rarely felt awkward.
Yet right now, he was so embarrassed he wanted to curl his toes.
Without a word, Shen Xingli shut his door and walked around to the front of the sports car to look at the person in the driver's seat.
Recognizing Luo Hang, he turned back and asked, "Where's your manager?"
Jiang Nan coughed. "Something came up for my manager, so I caught a ride."
Shen Xingli snorted coldly, thinking, I won't stoop to arguing with you. I'm going to tell your husband.
With that thought, he folded his arms happily and left.
After returning to his hotel room, Jiang Nan took a shower, then sat cross-legged on the bed and gazed deeply into 771's eyes.
771 said, "My guess is Fu Jinchuan."
Jiang Nan clicked his tongue. "Mine too."
Rubbing his chin, Jiang Nan said, "If Luo Hang really likes Fu Jinchuan, then the original host, Shen Anbai, and Luo Hang-the three people in that famous entertainment industry love triangle-actually all like the same person."
771 sighed. "This damned fate."
Jiang Nan said, "Tell me about it."
Both the human and the system had gossip written all over their faces, while someone far away overseas sank into thought after reading Shen Xingli's message.
In the end, he couldn't hold back and sent Jiang Nan a message.
F: [Are you asleep?]
His phone vibrated softly. Jiang Nan glanced at it and immediately beamed, lying on his stomach on the bed to reply to Fu Jingzhou.
Stirring Shit When It Hits: [Not yet.]
After sending that message, Jiang Nan propped up his chin and watched the "Typing..." indicator at the top of the chat.
About five minutes passed before the other person finally sent a single "Mm."
Mm????
Jiang Nan rubbed his chin again and silently typed.
Stirring Shit When It Hits: [You must be using cheats.]
F: [? Why do you say that?]
Stirring Shit When It Hits: [How else could you have a perfect score in my heart?]
The next second, the "Typing..." indicator at the top of the chat began appearing and disappearing.
Jiang Nan held back his laughter and waited ages for Fu Jingzhou's reply.
F: [...]
771 sighed. "Look what you've driven Zhouzhou to."
Jiang Nan sent him flying with one punch.
A moment later, Fu Jingzhou sent another message: [Go to bed early. You have to film the show tomorrow morning.]
Jiang Nan quit while he was ahead, replying with perfect obedience: [Okay.]
The next day.
The production team officially began the livestream recording at ten in the morning.
This episode was called "Hope High School."
When Jiang Nan received the script and saw those words, goosebumps rose all over his body.
Because everyone knew that in horror movies, the simpler the name, the deadlier it was.
As early as nine thirty, viewers were already crowding into the livestream.
There was a flood of fan comments steering the chat.
[Looking forward to Baibai! Baibai is the best!]
[Aaaaaah, I finally get to enjoy a devastating blast of my husband's gorgeous face today.]
[Cool, badass queen Qiu Wen, go, go, go!]
[Looking forward to our little sister! Hope our little sister Xueying has fun!]
Song Zhusheng watched the scrolling comments for ages, but no one mentioned Jiang Nan's name.
So he posted a comment himself.
[Looking forward to Nannan!]
That one comment was all it took for several people to chase after him with insults.
[What Nannan? Don't tell me that sleazeball has fans?]
[Bro, have you lost your mind?]
[How blind do you have to be to become a Jiang Nan fan?]
[What Jiang Nan? His name is clearly Little Immortal Nan!]
Song Zhusheng frowned.
Although Jiang Nan hadn't behaved very well before, he had already changed for the better. People could grow.
He was just about to explain when a young man's chilly voice drifted over from behind him.
"Oh, Teacher Little Song, didn't you say you hardly ever use your phone?"
Song Zhusheng instinctively turned his head and met the young man's slightly lowered eyes.
Fu Xingli had stayed up extremely late last night, only to be woken early by Song Zhusheng to study, leaving him full of pent-up anger.
The young man was tall and lean, dressed in a loose navy-blue T-shirt and sweatpants.
He had the air of wealth and privilege that only a rich, illustrious household could nurture, looking just like one of those idle young dandies in historical dramas who went around teasing cats and dogs.
His eyes were very dark, with quite a few bloodshot streaks from staying up late, giving him a somewhat sharp, aloof look.
"I..." Song Zhusheng's cheeks reddened.
Whatever the case, he was still on the clock, and scrolling on his phone was wrong.
So he pressed his lips together and said, a little abashed, "I'm sorry."
Fu Xingli's pent-up anger suddenly dissipated.
His gaze fell on Song Zhusheng from beneath his thin eyelids.
He stared at Song Zhusheng's flushed cheeks and earlobes.
He turned the words over in his mouth before saying, "What are you blushing for?"
"Ah," Song Zhusheng said, a little at a loss. "I blush easily when I'm embarrassed."
Fu Xingli raised an eyebrow and sat down beside him. Holding a black pen, he lazily propped up his chin, his voice carrying an unmistakable smile. "Teacher Little Song, please continue."
Song Zhusheng hurriedly nodded. "Okay, okay."
He said "okay" twice in a row, his expression completely serious, though the flush on his face had yet to fade.
Fu Xingli spun his pen absently, thinking, What a bookworm.