As a university associate professor whose main duties include attending meetings, traveling for work, conducting research, and occasionally substituting as a lecturer, every new semester brings a slew of friend requests from fanboys and fangirls to Professor Ji’s messaging apps.
Unlike middle or high school, university professors don’t have to manage discipline or students’ personal lives. Besides, Ji Kai mostly teaches graduate students—most of them are in their twenties, each with their own lives and concerns. Typically, the relationship between students and professors lasts only for a semester. Often, they don’t even know each other’s names by the time the course ends, even before exams are over.
However, there are always exceptions.
When the professor is both handsome and stylish, graceful and witty, his presence can create a ripple effect. What should have been a small class of twenty or so students would end up with the classroom packed. Even students from other departments, who didn’t understand a thing, would bring their own stools to audit the class, proudly calling themselves “observers of appearances.”
Ji Kai was always cautious—he would only leave a small email address for assignments, never revealing his phone number or personal accounts on any messaging apps. But it didn’t matter. There was always a horde of people who somehow managed to trace him, sending friend requests with the message, “Professor, I have a question.”
Ever since the light luxury brand ad featuring him was released, the popularity had grown exponentially. Who knows the name of the principal? No one. But Professor Ji from the Law Department? He was famous.
“Professor, professor~ Is this you?”
“No, it just looks like me. I’m here teaching you. Where would I find the time to shoot ads like that?”
College and graduate students are still easy to fool.
Most of them actually believed him, sharing the photos with others, exclaiming, “Look! Look at our civil and commercial law professor. He looks exactly like that sexy male model in the white shirt!”
Though Ji Kai always kept his distance from students to prevent someone from getting jealous, he also didn’t have the heart to reject them. After all, there was about a 1% chance that the students adding him really did have an academic question to ask.
His solution was simple: after verifying the request, he would place them into a special group, blocking them from seeing his moments, and keeping everything strictly professional.
Unfortunately, one day, a slip of the hand caused him to accept a request from someone he shouldn’t have.
Unlike the persistent, straightforward rich old man, Li Changji, who always filled the verification message with his name, “Li Changji,” Little White Lotus Ye Yin was skilled at changing profile pictures and nicknames. Hidden among a bunch of innocent young students, Ye Yin was mistakenly added by Ji Kai.
This led to one sunny and peaceful class break, where Professor Ji was lying on the podium, seriously replying to his partner’s texts. After casually scrolling through his moments, he suddenly saw Ye Yin’s green-leaf background paired with a fresh and innocent selfie, leaving Ji Kai utterly dumbfounded.
His first reaction: delete, delete, delete!
But sometimes, people just can’t resist.
Not only did he not delete Ye Yin, but he also couldn’t help scrolling through the little fairy’s moments. Once he started, he was completely hooked, diving into the juicy gossip and feeling the urge to like every post and urge for more updates.
The posts were just that wild, utterly bizarre, and impossible to stop reading.
There were all sorts of posts—tragically poetic pictures captioned with ancient verses, saying, “I just want a fair and open love,” sorrowful love songs with captions like, “It’s a movie for three people, but I’m not even part of the cast,” wise sayings like, “The one who isn’t loved in a relationship is the third wheel,” or deeply melancholic reflections like, “I just want to watch him from afar,” followed by pathetic laments like, “I remembered him late at night and cried again.”
It was practically a textbook on how to be a third-party white lotus, keeping Ji Kai thoroughly entertained.
The latest selfie, posted in a nine-picture collage, showed a coffee cup with a heart drawn on it, captioned: “300 days with my dear.”
There were plenty of things wrong with this post. If the “dear” referred to Zhu Ling, 300 days ago, Zhu Ling hadn’t even divorced yet, and Ye Yin hadn’t broken up with Li Weidu! So, after all this time, how could they be so open and unashamed about it now?
Every now and then, Ji Kai would sneak a peek at the feed, gossipping to himself. About a week later, after a string of sunny weather posts, pictures of streetlights, and coffee cups, something high-drama finally appeared again.
It was a classic composition. The camera showed only Ye Yin’s fair and tender hand, holding onto someone else’s hand. The other person’s back was the only visible part of them in the photo, with the neon lights of the night sky as the background.
The caption read: “My dear, you’ve finally come to take me home.”
Ji Kai immediately recognized that back. Not to mention, the diamond earring in the other person’s ear was glinting brightly.
“…”
Those two were finally willing to openly admit they were together? Not easy!
Ji Kai let out a long sigh of relief. If that rainy day, standing by the ivy-covered wall and watching Zhu Ling’s dejected figure leave, still left a faint, unexplainable sense of melancholy, then at this moment, even the last trace of regret had vanished like smoke.
“Congratulations, congratulations—everyone’s happy now.”
It really hadn’t been easy for the two of you. After all the ups and downs, you finally ended up together. It feels like you’ve stamped the official seal of true love. Now, both of you can settle down, stop causing trouble for others, and just live your lives together in peace.
Happily dragging his slippers, Ji Kai quickly went over and hugged Li Weidu’s particularly enticing waist from behind to share this good news. Li Weidu was busy washing strawberries and oranges. Feeling Ji Kai’s lips against his ear, his whole body stiffened in an instant, and his ice-cold earlobes began to blush slightly.
“I don’t care, it has nothing to do with me.”
“How does it not concern you? It’s not just about my ex—it involves your ex too, doesn’t it?”
“… I have you now; I can’t even remember who my ex was.”
As it turns out, even though you know it’s just sweet talk, hearing such words still makes you happy. After feeling good for a moment, Ji Kai rested his chin on Li Weidu’s shoulder, using the opportunity to playfully tease. “I didn’t know my Weidu could be so heartless. Boo…”
Before he could finish, his mouth was stuffed with a strawberry.
But before he even tasted the sweetness, Li Weidu turned around, mercilessly snatching the strawberry right out of Ji Kai’s mouth with his own. Quick, precise, and smooth. Ji Kai was still dazed, and the next second, he was pressed against the wall, receiving a strawberry-flavored kiss that was so sweet and tangy it made his knees weak.
Recently, Li Weidu has been coming up with more and more tricks.
Completely outmatched, Ji Kai had to surrender… totally giving in.
Over the next few days, Ye Yin continued to flood his social media with posts showing off his love, and at least from the looks of it, he seemed to be overflowing with happiness. Sometimes, he would even include Xiao Yan in his posts, giving off the image of a harmonious, newly-formed family of three.
Well, as long as he treats Xiao Yan well and doesn’t bully him, it seems okay.
Ji Kai felt reassured. Every now and then, when he was bored, he would still check out Ye Yin’s updates, while secretly thinking with a snicker, “The dog food at my place tastes way better than yours!”
There’s an old saying: “People show off their love in public, but smash the love bowl in private.” Since Ji Kai constantly fed real dog food to the surrounding onlookers, he never realized that even dog food could be fake.
In truth, Ye Yin and Zhu Ling were only really sweet for a week.
All those pictures of flowers and gifts were just tiny fragments of sugar, scattered amidst a never-ending cycle of clashes and chaos.
…
From Zhu Ling’s perspective, Ye Yin was simply stirring up trouble on his own.
To begin with, Zhu Ling hadn’t even wanted to reconcile. That day, after walking out of Ji Kai’s school, the rain kept pouring, and the streets were almost deserted, giving the place the eerie feel of a zombie apocalypse.
Right in front of a red light, a cursed black Land Rover was parked there. The figure inside was blurry through the rain-soaked windows, but Zhu Ling recognized that car.
It must be warm inside. As the red light dragged on, Zhu Ling didn’t even need to imagine. He knew for sure that Li Weidu would eventually lift his hand from the steering wheel to gently stroke the back of Ji Kai’s hand.
How could anyone resist touching those adorable bear-like palms? Then, inevitably, the overwhelming pheromones would kick in, and he’d lean over for a kiss.
Zhu Ling wanted to storm over and kick the car, but just as he was about to explode, the light turned green, and the Land Rover sped off in a roar, splashing rainwater everywhere.
When Zhu Ling got home, he fell gravely ill and missed three days of work.
Sister Tong barged in, both concerned and complaining about the musty smell in the room, but Zhu Ling barely heard her. It felt like his whole world was collapsing. Feverish and delirious, he kept drifting in and out of sleep, always waking up on a cold, tear-drenched pillow. His mind was foggy for a whole week, feeling as if the world was a void, and love would never come again.
In the end, his last shred of survival instinct forced him to crawl out of his near-death state. Following Ji Kai’s advice, he took a hot shower—though he almost suffocated in the steam-filled bathroom—finally emerging warm, though still a little dazed.
The sunlight was beautiful.
It shone on him, making him want to fall in love with someone quickly, to erase every trace of the past and stop feeling the pain.
…He was so lonely. He just wanted to be “happy.”
But the thought that he might never again experience “happiness” in his life made him feel utterly hopeless.
…
Ye Yin reappeared beside him just when he was at rock bottom.
The brilliant spring sunlight of May shimmered in the background. Zhu Ling recalled the last time he reunited with him; it was also a bright May day filled with the beauty of spring.
It seemed like the first time they met was also in May. The school had peach trees in bloom, and Ye Yin stood gracefully by the window. That scene had always been a cherished, beautiful memory. But now, Zhu Ling wished he had never passed by that window, that they had just brushed past each other, never to turn back.
It felt like someone had stolen away more than ten years of his life.
His appearance in the mirror hadn’t changed. Even with a frown, he still carried that handsome, slightly rebellious charm, but inside, it felt like he was withering. There was a sense that he was being pulled along by a predetermined fate, unable to resist, drifting with the tide.
The days spent with Ye Yin weren’t filled with passion, but they felt easy, comforting. He could even fool himself endlessly—perhaps this wasn’t so bad after all, having someone like this by his side. Maybe skipping all the stages of romance and diving straight into a comfortable old couple’s routine suited him now.
After all, he was immature, spoiled, and beyond saving. Ordinary people could never unconditionally indulge or tolerate him.
Only Ye Yin, who had silently waited for him for a year, could manage that.
Ye Yin said, “Zhu Ling, I love you. You are my entire world. Even if I had to wait forever, I would never blame you.”
…
However, despite claiming he wouldn’t blame him, it didn’t take a week before an all-out war broke out, initiated by Ye Yin.
Zhu Ling, feeling both innocent and baffled, couldn’t understand why Ye Yin had secretly logged into his cloud account. It was an account Zhu Ling hadn’t touched in ages. Because it was synced with his old phone, it contained many photos documenting the places he and Ji Kai had visited together—Nepal, Thailand, Japan—as well as various happy celebrations and anniversaries.
Ye Yin, holding his phone, demanded to know why Zhu Ling had kept those photos.
“What’s worse, why did you take me to the same places you went with him?”
Zhu Ling was speechless. Why? Obviously because the place had good food, and you were the one who said you wanted ice cream and asked me to recommend a place. And why were you even snooping through my old photos?
“And now you’re blaming me? If you weren’t still thinking about him, why would you keep them?”
From that day on, in Zhu Ling’s eyes, Ye Yin became increasingly unreasonable.
Watching an old movie? Ye Yin would ask if he had watched it with Ji Kai. Seeing books on the shelf? Ye Yin would clear out anything that Ji Kai might have bought. Even a simple hug would turn into, “Did you comfort him like this too?”
After being pushed so many times, Zhu Ling finally snapped.
“Can we stop talking about the past? The person who’s with me now is you. Why do you keep making a fuss every day? You’re always checking my phone, and even using a fake account to test me. You used to say that Li Weidu was paranoid for keeping tabs on you—how are you any different now?”
“Yeah,” Ye Yin laughed bitterly, “you’re right. Even if Li Weidu was a bit crazy, at least he cared about me. He’d make me bento when I was hungry, feel sorry for me when I was tired, and he let me check his phone whenever I wanted. But you?”
Zhu Ling remained unfazed. “Fine. If that lunatic treated you better, why don’t you go back to him?”
The argument escalated, lasting well into the night, until Ye Yin finally conceded. He obediently went to the kitchen to make tomato-egg noodles that didn’t look quite right, but Zhu Ling still gave him face by eating some before showering and falling asleep.
Ye Yin, left alone, hugged his blanket and quietly cried.
…
He had thought they could love each other, but it hadn’t taken long for them to start hurting each other instead. Sister Tong had been incredibly busy lately, managing a difficult celebrity. Not only did she have to act as his agent and caretaker, but she also had to play mediator in his constant fights with his new boyfriend, leaving her feeling utterly drained.
Ye Yin’s agent, Shen Qian, was also very busy, having to listen to Ye Yin’s frequent complaints. Sometimes, Shen Qian even felt a twinge of genuine sympathy. “Xiao Yezi, do you really have to be with him?”
“The kind of person who makes you feel so insecure usually doesn’t actually love you.” Just like how Zhu Ling felt about you, and how you felt about Li Weidu. But it seemed Ye Yin would never understand.
Sure enough, Ye Yin acted like he hadn’t heard a thing. “By the way, Qian Qian, aren’t you currently studying for a part-time postgraduate degree at X University?”
Shen Qian: “So?”
“Wouldn’t it be easier for you to dig up some dirt on Ji Kai since you’re already at his school?”
Shen Qian: “…What does Mr. Ex-husband have to do with this?”
Ye Yin explained that Zhu Ling’s alternate account still followed his ex-husband’s social media, and in Ye Yin’s view, every issue in their relationship was somehow Ji Kai’s fault.
Shen Qian felt a bit helpless. Sure, he was attending X University and could even sit in on Ji Kai’s lectures. But digging up dirt on him in a place as clean as a university? That might be tough.
Besides… Ji Kai, for all his apparent approachability, actually kept people at arm’s length.
…
Ji Kai had long since forgotten Shen Qian.
Though there was that one time at the LU family boutique, when Li Weidu had confessed to him and the tingling from their first kiss had spread through his entire body, he did catch sight of Shen Qian and Ye Yin together.
But as always, Professor Ji saw so many students every day that everyone started to look familiar. He vaguely recognized the handsome young man who always sat in the front row of his lectures, but just assumed he might have been one of his former graduate students. He never thought much more about it.
“Professor Ji, Professor Ji, let’s practice for the relay race together, shall we?”
With the upcoming sports event, teachers were required to participate as well. As a key member of the Law School’s faculty team, Ji Kai had recently started practicing on the track after class to keep active.
However, when faced with the beautiful young man’s invitation, he immediately refused.
Shen Qian, confused, persisted: “But Professor Ji, you’re already training here anyway, and I’m not very fast. Everyone will blame me for dragging the team down. You’re so good at this, can’t you teach me?”
Still, Ji Kai instantly turned him down again. From that day forward, Shen Qian noticed that the professor stopped showing up on the track altogether.
“…” Shen Qian thought to himself that he was attractive. After all, his good looks had cost him a lot of money.
Besides, Ji Kai had even complimented his beauty once when they met at the LU store, so this couldn’t possibly be a “ugly rejection.”
Then one day, after following Ji Kai to the school gate, Shen Qian saw him being picked up after work by a young, unassuming-looking CEO. The two of them met, and before even getting into the car, they held hands, swinging them back and forth like schoolchildren who couldn’t bear to part.
So, with a beloved boyfriend, Ji Kai had cut off all contact with other temptations.
Even when approached directly, he refused. He knew better than to allow any ambiguity to arise, avoiding anything that could seem improper.
Truly… nothing like some people, no wonder they got divorced.
Though Shen Qian rarely believed in love, for some reason, he felt a little envious.
…
In the winter, Li Weidu bought Ji Kai a pair of brown bear slippers.
Now, with May’s warmth in full bloom, and despite his body being naturally warm enough to switch to lighter slippers, Ji Kai still dutifully wore the bear slippers.
“Because they’re convenient,” he’d say, especially when wanting to keep Li Weidu’s cold feet warm.
Li Weidu’s perpetual chill seemed hopeless. Sometimes, even sitting for a short while working at the computer would leave his feet icy cold.
Whenever that happened, Ji Kai would sit beside him with a book, stretching his feet out of his bear slippers, letting Li Weidu warm his own cold feet against them, embodying his role as a living, breathing heating pad.
The heart is like a house with two rooms, one for joy and one for sorrow. You can’t be too happy, or your laughter will wake up the sorrow next door. — Kafka’s Aphorisms
Li Weidu genuinely felt that his tendency toward melodrama had gotten much better lately.
But sometimes, while cuddling with his warm baby bear, he’d still remember those lonely times, chopping vegetables in a cold kitchen, cooking with tears dropping into the pot.
Now, being with Ji Kai, cooking every day had become a source of joy. It felt like moving from a freezing city of ice and snow to a place where it was forever spring. So, he was doing his best to seal away the memories of those hated days.
He didn’t want to recall them, but someone always seemed to bring them back up.
Like his father, who had recently started bothering Ji Kai again.
“It’s… still about the wedding. He’s called me several times, insisting that you attend no matter what. Of course, it’s with that lady, the businesswoman I told you about before.”
“I’m not going. Just ignore him, block his number.”
Ji Kai could only smile, “You can argue with him all you want, but as for me… I can’t completely brush him off, because no matter what, he’s still our father.”
The words “our father” made Li Weidu blush slightly.
“But… you really don’t need to pay attention to him or give him any face for my sake, because he’s not worth it, I mean it.”
“When my mom passed away, I was young, but I remember it clearly. It was because he had someone else outside, and my mom would cry at home all the time. He’d always insist on leaving to see that woman, and he even pushed her roughly. I begged him on my knees not to leave, but he still walked out.”
“After that, whenever I saw him regretful, I just thought it was fake. No matter how crazy or unstable my mom became, she wouldn’t have been that way without his torment.”
“So, now that he’s alienated everyone, he deserves it. Everything that’s happened to him, he brought upon himself. He can get married, but he should never expect me to bless him!”
“Because you can’t stab someone to death and then expect their corpse to come back to life. My feelings for ‘father’ and for ‘family’ died a long time ago, and now… how could there possibly be…”
Even now, Li Weidu couldn’t stop trembling when he spoke about it. Ji Kai hugged his little puppet tightly, knowing how many wounds there were, and how many unfillable voids in his heart.
“How can you say you have no feelings about ‘family’? Isn’t our home a family to you?”
Li Weidu was stunned, his lips quivering, but he was soon pulled over to the oven by his baby bear’s warm hands: “Suddenly, I’m craving something sweet. Let’s bake cookies together, shall we?”
“But,” Li Weidu hesitated, “last time, when I tried to make them for you… didn’t you say you’d get fat?”
“I thought about it later, and as long as we exercise afterward, it should be fine. Weidu, I just want to eat the cookies you bake. After we finish, we can hit the gym together, and next time, I’ll teach you how to swim. How about that?”
Li Weidu truly felt like his baby bear was beginning to understand him more and more, to an almost frightening degree.
With just a few words, Ji Kai could immediately dispel all his negative emotions.
Sometimes it was through compliments, other times through kisses and hugs, and sometimes he’d just ask for food. Every single time, he knew exactly how to hit the soft spot in Li Weidu’s heart. Like now, all thoughts of sadness vanished, and his mind was solely focused on making the best cookies in the world for Ji Kai.
One day at the supermarket, Li Weidu had a sudden whim and bought a small, elegant dry-erase board.
He put it on the dining table, like an old school cafeteria chef, writing the “Daily Specials” every day without fail.
“Carrot stew, mushroom greens, sweet shredded pork, fried fish.”
Then he’d secretly watch as his baby bear discreetly erased the “fried fish” and replaced it with “shredded pork with garlic sauce,” trying so hard not to laugh that he nearly suffocated behind him.
One weekend, as Li Weidu was heading out to work overtime, he noticed something written on the little blackboard: “The weather forecast says it will rain today.” Instead of writing the word “rain,” there was a drawing of a small cloud with a few raindrops below it.
“Be careful on your way home from work. Stay safe.”
Li Weidu couldn’t resist; he promptly bought a new whiteboard and secretly stored away the old one. The little cloud drawing was just too cute, and he knew he could never bring himself to erase it. In fact, he wanted to cover it with a protective film and frame it to hang on the wall.
Ji Kai didn’t even notice that the whiteboard had been replaced. Recently, he’d been asked by his department to attend an academic conference in a neighboring province for five days. On the new whiteboard, he drew five little bears.
“I’ll be gone for one day, and you can erase one bear each day. When the bears are all gone, I’ll be back.”
“You can draw?!” Li Weidu was amazed as if he had just discovered a new world.
The little cloud was cute, but anyone could draw that. Little bears, on the other hand, were a different story! They were so adorable and lifelike—who would’ve thought his baby bear of a partner had a hidden talent for drawing!
“Oh, well, my childhood dream was always to become a carpenter like Zhou Yian’s dad, so how could I not know how to sketch? I used to sit next to Uncle Zhou and copy his drawings when he sketched designs.”
As he explained this, Li Weidu gazed at him with an admiring, lovestruck expression.
…
Qi Yang genuinely found this couple interesting.
One was a little bear, happily devouring honey every day.
The other was a little puppet, so thrilled to be holding the bear that he couldn’t sleep.
Both of them had privately confided to Qi Yang that they felt like they were “reaching beyond their grasp” with each other, which had made them more determined to care for and protect one another.
They both worked hard to shield the other’s vulnerabilities and gave their all in the relationship, making it hard not to believe in true love.
Even when Ji Kai had to leave for a business trip, he called Qi Yang, asking him to take care of Li Weidu in his absence.
But this wasn’t the “overprotectiveness” Qi Yang expected.
The day Ji Kai had to leave, Li Weidu suddenly had a mild stomachache. For any other job, someone else might have been able to step in, but Ji Kai was leading the team and delivering a presentation, so there was no way he could cancel last minute.
“It’s nothing. You can go without worry. It’s not that bad, and I’ll be fine on my own.”
You say it doesn’t hurt, but how can I not be worried?
Right up until he had to catch his train, Ji Kai kept trying to drag the stubborn man to the hospital. It was only a five-day trip, but it felt like they were parting forever.
“How about this? The neighboring province isn’t that far. If your company can work remotely, why don’t you just come with me?”
Knowing Li Weidu as well as he did, Ji Kai was certain that President Li would jump at the chance to be by his side 24/7.
But to his surprise, Li Weidu lowered his head and gently shook it.
“Ji Kai, you can’t always spoil me like this. You need to give me some space to grow on my own.”
Li Weidu had once heard a saying, “Even kites have a fear of heights, but they trust the one holding the string.” He felt that if most people were kites, then he was like a helium balloon, always afraid that someone might accidentally let go of the string, leaving him to suffocate and burst into the sky.
However, after meeting Ji Kai, Li Weidu suddenly found infinite courage, making him want to become strong, capable of withstanding an army of thousands, and weathering the rise and fall of tides from all corners of the world.
That day, Qi Yang came and went, at one point stepping out to the balcony for a cigarette. Li Weidu couldn’t help but comment, “I really don’t understand what you people get out of smoking. Aren’t you afraid of getting cancer at such a young age?”
Qi Yang chuckled. “Sometimes… you can’t just cry, you know.”
Startled by this, Li Weidu turned to look at his baby bear, who was chatting with Wei Xuan, smiling carefree as ever.
From that moment, he made up his mind to hold himself to higher standards and push himself harder, determined to become better and better, so Ji Kai could truly rely on him.
…
On the first day of Ji Kai’s business trip, Li Weidu started wearing his pair of bear slippers.
He would often look down absentmindedly, feeling the fuzzy warmth around his feet.
He was convinced he could make it through these seven days, and become a better version of himself, someone who could protect Ji Kai even more.
The ideal was rich and full, but the reality was stark and bare.
Just like his resolution to be a generous and understanding boyfriend, this determination also failed without a doubt. However, in a certain sense, it… opened a new door to a whole new world for him.
Translator: Lynn
Translations are not 100% correct. Please let me know if there are typos/mistakes in the chapter.
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