Trending topic alert: The mysterious fan site administrator of a top celebrity has been exposed.

The dressing room was brightly lit, and Zhou Ai lazily sank into the soft dressing chair, letting the stylist and makeup artist busy themselves around him.

His silver-white hair was meticulously styled, complementing the dark makeup sample for next week's concert, outlining sharp yet alluring lines on his face. His phone vibrated in Zhou Ai's hand.

He glanced down and saw it was a WeChat message from Cheng Yingzhi.

Is this for real?

Three words without any beginning or end. Zhou Ai raised an eyebrow and typed a reply with her fingertips.

What's really going on?

The reply came quickly, as if they had been waiting for him to ask.

【fall in love.】

Zhou Ai chuckled, almost able to picture Cheng Yingzhi's gossipy face as he winked and grinned on the other end.

[Get lost, my taste isn't that bad.]

Just as she finished speaking, the makeup artist carefully lifted a strand of hair from Zhou Ai's forehead, revealing a design prototype woven with black metallic wire, and softly asked, "Ms. Zhou, what do you think of this? It matches the theme of 'Shattered Stars' quite well."

Zhou Ai glanced casually at the mirror. The man in the mirror had delicate features but a distant air; any exaggerated style seemed to fit him perfectly.

"It's alright, you can decide." He said dismissively, his attention returning to his phone.

Zhou Ai has never been picky about these things; as long as they're not too outrageous, he accepts them. He also trusts the team's professionalism. Moreover, he has enough capital—as Xu Yang often says, as long as Zhou Ai's face remains, he has the confidence to look down on everything.

The makeup artist began to meticulously apply his makeup, the soft brushes brushing across his cheeks. As the brush approached his temples, her movements became exceptionally gentle, revealing a clear sense of apprehension.

"Teacher Zhou," she said hesitantly, her gaze falling on the scabbed but still clearly visible wound, "when will you remove the stitches? The concert next week will be a long and intense makeup session, and I'm a little worried that prolonged makeup application might cause an infection."

Upon hearing this, Zhou Ai's fingers, which were about to type, paused.

Wound?

Almost instinctively, he tilted his head slightly, leaned closer to the mirror, and carefully looked at his forehead. The stitched scar was clearly visible above his brow bone; he had almost forgotten it was there because he had been so busy these past few days.

Only after the makeup artist reminded her did Zhou Ai suddenly realize that the time for removing the stitches seemed to be in the next few days.

A thought flashed through my mind in an instant.

He exited the chat interface with Cheng Yingzhi and quickly reopened the chat window.

Can I discuss something with you?

Cheng Yingzhi replied quickly, with a touch of cynicism: "Please speak."

Send me your brother's contact information, I need to go get my wires removed.

This time, Cheng Yingzhi was silent for a few seconds, then made a call. Zhou Ai immediately hung up.

Several WeChat messages immediately followed.

【? ? ? 】

[Beijing is such a big city, surely it's not the only hospital that treats my "good brother"?]

Did you hang up on me?

Zhou Ai replied without changing her expression:

【Quarrel.】

【You don't know anything. The one who tied the knot must untie it. He stitched up the wound, so naturally he has to take it off himself. That's how you make it end.】

He presented his fallacious reasoning with such conviction.

Cheng Yingzhi sent a string of ellipses, seemingly stumped by his logic, and replied after a while: "Okay, I'll ask. He's a very rule-abiding person, I need to sound him out first."

"Hmm." Zhou Ai replied with a single word, put her phone aside, and cooperated with the makeup artist to continue the unfinished makeup and styling.

However, time passed second by second.

The makeup was done, the hairstyle was set, and even the accessories for the next performance outfit were tried on. However, Cheng Yingzhi's promise to "ask" seemed to have sunk without a trace, and there was no response.

On the surface, Zhou Ai continued to cooperate with the team, but her eyes kept drifting to the silent phone screen.

During a break after trying on the last outfit, he couldn't help but pick up his phone again, unlock it, and open WeChat—his chat with Cheng Yingzhi was still stuck on his "Hmm," with nothing below.

He frowned, his fingertips unconsciously tapping on the cold screen.

The stylist responsible for removing his makeup and trying on the next look noticed his absent-mindedness. While gently wiping his eyeliner with a cotton pad soaked in makeup remover, she smiled and asked softly, "Is Mr. Zhou waiting for some important news?"

Zhou Ai looked up at the stylist in the mirror: "Is it that obvious?"

The stylist smiled, not answering directly, but the meaning in her smile was self-evident. Her hands continued working, skillfully removing the vibrant colors: "Just a little. You've been looking at your phone much more often than usual today."

Zhou Ai didn't speak again, but his gaze fell back on the excessively quiet phone. The screen reflected his slightly furrowed brows and his somewhat melancholy eyes.

Cheng Yingzhi is so unreliable... Does it take this long to ask for his contact information?

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Almost immediately after Cheng Yingzhi sent the message "Okay, I'll ask," a strong sense of regret gripped him.

He tossed his phone onto his desk, slumped back into the large leather executive chair, and loosened his tie in frustration. Despite the air conditioning being at a comfortable temperature, he felt inexplicably hot.

He agreed too quickly. How could he have had such a brain fart and agreed to Zhou Ai's twisted logic of "the one who tied the knot must untie it"?

When has Zhou Ai ever been so particular about something as trivial as removing stitches?

He fractured his bone when he fell while rock climbing before, but I never saw him insist on having a specific specialist examine him.

This time, she's making a fuss over a small cut on her forehead, even specifically asking Chu Yi to remove it?

Cheng Yingzhi's fingers unconsciously tapped on the smooth mahogany tabletop, producing a dull thud.

The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt. Behind Zhou Ai's lazy tone, there seemed to be something else that he couldn't quite figure out.

Call Chu Yi directly? What should you say?

He said, "Chu Yi, um... Zhou Ai, my childhood friend, he wants you to help him remove some stitches. Did I give him your WeChat?"

That sounds absolutely stupid.

What would Chu Yi think? His younger brother was as clear-sighted as crystal; he could keenly sense even the slightest thing that wasn't right.

Cheng Yingzhi could almost picture Chu Yi's reaction to such a request. He would probably be silent for a few seconds, a faint hint of doubt flashing across his usually calm eyes, before, out of politeness and basic respect for his older brother, he would reply in a cool, emotionless voice, "Yes, sure. Have him add me."

Yes, Chu Yi will most likely agree.

He has always been like this; no matter who makes the request or it is not excessive, even if he is not willing in his heart, he will always maintain a dignified concession on the surface.

But this is precisely what makes Cheng Yingzhi feel even worse.

He didn't want Chu Yi to have to deal with Zhou Ai's approach, which was clearly driven by ulterior motives, because of him.

Zhou Ai was indeed his best brother. They had been through thick and thin together, drunk together, and knew each other inside and out.

But it was precisely because he knew Zhou Ai so well that he understood how much aggression and unwavering determination lay beneath her seemingly nonchalant exterior.

How could Chu Yi, with her aloof and distant nature, possibly resist?

An extremely strange feeling spread through Cheng Yingzhi's heart, an emptiness, and a touch of indescribable bitterness and... a protective wariness?

This feels so unfamiliar.

It's like your own precious white camellia, carefully nurtured in a glass greenhouse, which hasn't even reached its blooming season yet, but suddenly it's spotted by a wild boar with a keen sense of smell and unruly behavior. The boar grunts and circles around it, even trying to nudge it with its snout.

Although that "wild boar" was dressed in the glamorous coat of a top star and possessed assets that countless people envied, Cheng Yingzhi inexplicably felt... unworthy!

Pshaw! That's not right! How can Chu Yi, that block of ice, be associated with Zhou Ai, that ball of fire?

He scratched his hair in frustration, picked up his phone, opened the chat window with Chu Yi, hovered his finger above the input box, typed a few words, then deleted them. After repeating this several times, he finally threw his phone back on the table in annoyance.

Damn it, how am I supposed to bring this up? This feeling is even more agonizing than negotiating a multi-million dollar acquisition deal.

Cheng Yingzhi stared at the ceiling and let out a long, frustrated sigh.

He felt he must be crazy to have such an absurd delusion as "his own cabbage is about to be eaten by a pig".

------

After working an all-night emergency shift, Chu Yi's physical and mental strength were completely exhausted. After handing over the shift, Chu Yi felt as if her eyelids were filled with lead, and she didn't even have the desire to take another step.

He almost relied on muscle memory to swipe his card, go upstairs, and enter the luxury apartment just one street away from the hospital. It was one of Cheng Ying's properties and also his "refuge" where he would occasionally take a break when he was extremely tired.

The room was completely silent, with the heavy blackout curtains tightly blocking out all light and noise from the outside world.

Chu Yi didn't even turn on the lights. She groped in the dark, kicked off her shoes, and threw herself heavily into the overly soft sofa in the living room, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep almost instantly.

I slept like a log. When I regained consciousness, I was awakened by the continuous vibration of my phone in my pocket.

He frowned, struggling to shake off his drowsy state, and pulled out his phone.

The glaring light from the screen made him squint uncomfortably, and it took him a while to see that it displayed several missed calls from Cheng Yingzhi, as well as a few WeChat messages that were spaced out at different times.

Are you awake?

Are you busy?

"...It's okay, you're busy."

The message was delivered with an unusually cautious and polite tone, even bordering on incoherent.

Chu Yi rubbed his aching temples; the exhaustion from the night shift was still etched into his bones. He leaned back on the sofa armrest and lazily typed a reply:

"You didn't actually install surveillance cameras in your house, did you? Why do you call me right on time every time I come to rest?"

Not long after the message was sent, Cheng Yingzhi called immediately.

The voice on the other end of the line carried a barely perceptible tension: "...You're awake? I thought you'd died from overwork... You haven't replied to my messages for so long."

Chu Yi remained silent, showing little emotion: "..." Then she asked directly, "What exactly is it?"

He knew Cheng Yingzhi too well; this roundabout opening usually meant that a request he didn't want to hear but had to make was coming up.

Sure enough, Cheng Yingzhi started stammering on the other end of the phone, rambling on about everything under the sun, from the weather to meals, from whether work was tiring to whether he had encountered any strange people recently. The conversation was so roundabout that it made people lose patience.

As Chu Yi listened, her brows furrowed more and more, and the last bit of sleepiness she had was worn away by this pointless phone call.

He interrupted the other person's endless preamble, his voice hoarse from staying up all night and carrying a hint of barely perceptible impatience: "Please state your purpose directly so I can think about how to refuse."

The other end of the phone froze for a moment, falling into an awkward silence.

A few seconds later, a busy tone came from the receiver—Cheng Yingzhi had actually hung up the phone.

Chu Yi looked at the call screen that had been inexplicably disconnected, raised an eyebrow, and sent a question mark.

He didn't wait for a reply, tossed his phone aside, got up, and went into the bathroom.

The warm water washed over my body, slightly relieving some of my fatigue and clearing my foggy mind.

When he came out, drying his hair, and picked up his phone again, he finally saw the belated core message from Cheng Yingzhi:

[Um... Zhou Ai wants your contact information, saying she's coming to see you to have her stitches removed. Is that convenient for you?]

Chu Yi paused in the act of drying her hair, her gaze lingering on the line of text for a few seconds.

He didn't reply immediately, but instead picked up the hairdryer and slowly dried his half-wet hair completely.

After the buzzing wind stopped and the room returned to silence, he picked up his phone and replied simply with two words: "Okay."

Almost instantly, another message popped up from Cheng Yingzhi, his tone carrying a barely concealed urgency:

If you feel uncomfortable adding him, you don't have to! Really! Don't worry about me!

Chu Yi looked at the message, a hint of doubt flashing in her eyes, seemingly not quite understanding Cheng Yingzhi's overly exaggerated reaction.

He tapped his fingers on the screen, replying calmly and objectively: "I have at least a hundred, if not a thousand, patients. It's fine."

This sentence seemed to have a magical power. When Cheng Yingzhi on the other side of the screen looked at this line of text, his tense shoulders instantly relaxed, his furrowed brows completely unfurrowed, and he even involuntarily grinned.

That's right! How could he forget! Chu Yi is a doctor! In his eyes, a patient is a patient, no matter if he is a king or a top star, he is just a name on his workbook.

Zhou Ai is no different from Zhang San and Li Si, who need to go for follow-up appointments to have their stitches removed, to Chu Yi! All that worrying I just had was pointless!

Suddenly enlightened, Young Master Cheng's mood instantly brightened. His fingers flew across the screen as he forwarded Chu Yi's WeChat contact card to Zhou Ai without hesitation, even adding a note:

Here, add it yourself. Just say I gave it to you.

His tone was so relaxed that it was as if he wasn't the anxious person he had just been.

What Cheng Yingzhi didn't know was that Chu Yi had previously refused Zhou Ai's request.

As for why he agreed this time, it was because Chu Yi felt that refusing again would only make him seem guilty.

The same argument not only convinced Cheng Yingzhi, but also convinced himself.

He only needed to treat Zhou Ai as an ordinary patient, and everything would make sense.