LOI Chapter 20 — New Year's Greetings Have Their Uses

“My radar is very accurate,” Rong Ke contentedly leaned back against the pool’s edge. “That’s the feeling I get from you.”

“You have excellent eyesight then,” Yan Zhi nodded. “Most people can’t tell.”

Fireworks blossomed in the sky, adorning the glittering cityscape.

The night air was frigid, with light snow drifting down, but soaking in the hot spring felt perfect.

Rong Ke floated his hands and feet on the water’s surface, exhaling deeply. “Though the drive left me sore, coming here was worth it.”

“You’re sore?” Yan Zhi turned from the fireworks to look at Rong Ke. “Why didn’t you let me drive?”

Rong Ke hadn’t thought it necessary.

Besides, living with Yan Zhi for a while, he always felt the prince needed looking after, so he never considered letting Yan Zhi drive.

“It’s not too bad,” he said.

“Come here,” Yan Zhi spread his legs, gesturing for Rong Ke to sit between them. “I’ll give you a massage.”

“You know how to massage?” Rong Ke found it amusing.

Not surprising, but funny.

It was like someone who burns eggs offering to cook your lunch.

Yan Zhi detected the hint of mockery and frowned. “You think I’d massage just anyone?”

Rong Ke moved over, sitting between Yan Zhi’s legs, politely hunching forward. “If you’re going to press randomly, better not at all.”

“Is that comfortable?” Yan Zhi pulled Rong Ke against his chest, their bodies pressed together. “Relax.”

The skin-to-skin contact felt warmer than the water. Figuring they had nothing to be self-conscious about, Rong Ke fully relaxed, leaning into Yan Zhi as he clumsily kneaded his shoulders.

The fireworks show continued.

The later displays grew increasingly dazzling and brilliant.

From Rong Ke’s perspective, Yan Zhi’s long legs filled his lower field of vision, the taut muscles and protruding knees more eye-catching than the fireworks.

“How are you so fair?” The contrast in their skin tones was stark. Rong Ke couldn’t resist trailing a finger along Yan Zhi’s leg.

The muscles tensed briefly at his touch. Yan Zhi’s voice grew husky. “Don’t touch carelessly.”

“Are you ticklish?” Rong Ke found it amusing and switched to using three fingers, lightly stroking the pale skin, gradually moving lower.

——After all, the lower areas tend to be more sensitive.

Suddenly, with a splash, Yan Zhi grabbed Rong Ke’s wrist.

“I’m ticklish,” Yan Zhi said gravely. “If you still want to be good sisters, don’t tickle me.”

His tone was rather serious. Originally, Rong Ke had used the term “sisters” teasingly, but hearing Yan Zhi say it so solemnly felt odd.

As if… a casual joke had turned into something serious.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint why it felt strange.

“…Okay.” Thinking everyone has their own sensitivities, and Yan Zhi probably just disliked being tickled, Rong Ke obediently returned to watching the fireworks.

The fireworks show lasted half an hour, which was about the limit for soaking in the hot spring.

They took turns showering in the bathroom, then lay on their respective beds to watch the Spring Festival Gala.

Earlier, when they first entered the room, Rong Ke had deliberately given Yan Zhi the bed by the window with the better view, choosing the one near the bathroom for himself.

What he hadn’t noticed was that the TV wasn’t centered between the two beds, but closer to his side. So while he faced the TV directly, Yan Zhi had to watch at an angle.

“What’s with this hotel layout?” Yan Zhi lay on the edge of his bed, head tilted towards Rong Ke’s side.

His bed faced a desk, which was actually common in many hotels.

Seeing Yan Zhi’s discomfort, Rong Ke lifted his blanket. “Want to come over and watch?”

The deluxe twin room’s single bed was 1.5 meters wide. Though a bit cramped for two men over 1.8 meters tall, it wasn’t impossible.

Yan Zhi didn’t hesitate, swinging his long legs over into Rong Ke’s bed.

“Did you watch the Spring Festival Gala when you were abroad?” Rong Ke scooted towards the edge, but they were still essentially shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg.

Yan Zhi, oblivious to his encroachment, took up more space as Rong Ke moved. “No, it’s a bit boring.”

Realizing there wasn’t much room to give, Rong Ke simply let Yan Zhi lean against him. “Indeed.”

This year’s Gala was as uninspired as ever, more like a collection of internet memes.

Rong Ke needed to send New Year’s greetings, so he gradually shifted his attention to his phone.

He’d pre-edited a long string of greetings, modifying the salutations for each recipient before sending them individually.

Noticing Yan Zhi idly watching him send greetings, Rong Ke asked, “Aren’t you sending any New Year’s wishes?”

“Do I look that free to you?” Yan Zhi retorted.

Rong Ke glanced at Yan Zhi lazily leaning against him, thinking he looked very free indeed.

But on second thought, New Year’s greetings were essentially about socializing and sending well-wishes—with the former being more significant. It truly didn’t seem like something Yan Zhi would do.

Just then, Rong Ke’s phone rang. It was Professor Zheng from the Film Academy, whom he had just sent New Year’s greetings to.

His first instinct was to take the call on the balcony, but seeing the snow intensifying outside, and feeling it would be too obvious to go to the bathroom, he simply crossed his legs and symbolically turned his back to Yan Zhi as he answered.

“Professor Zheng, Happy New Year.”

“Xiao Ke, Happy New Year. It’s been a while. How have you been?”

Professor Zheng was the head of the Performance Department at the Film Academy. She had looked after Rong Ke during his university years and had recommended him for “Inferno Case.”

“I’m doing well. How about you?” Rong Ke replied.

“I’m fine. I’ve been following your situation lately. Have you resolved things peacefully with your agency?”

Back then, Rong Ke had naively sought her help when his company shelved him. However, as it involved legal issues, Professor Zheng couldn’t assist much, only advising him to negotiate with the company.

“We’re discussing terminating the contract,” Rong Ke said.

“That’s good. Listen, a streaming platform is preparing China’s first weekly drama series, and I’m in charge of casting. We’re nearly finished, but I’d like you to audition. Are you interested?”

Rong Ke was momentarily stunned.

“Hey, don’t mind me talking business on New Year’s,” Professor Zheng continued. “You know domestic dramas are usually fully approved before airing, but this weekly series will be reviewed as it airs. It’s a bold experiment, with top-level support. The production team is solid. We’ll cast actors first, then assign roles. I’ve followed your work over the years. You’re very versatile, so I suggest you give it a try.”

Even after hanging up, Rong Ke was still processing.

Yan Zhi sat up, leaning close behind Rong Ke, chin on his shoulder. “You got a role?”

“So New Year’s greetings do work,” Rong Ke turned, looking at the person perched on his shoulder. “Good thing I sent Professor Zheng a greeting just now.”

“You should be glad you’ve been trying different roles all these years,” Yan Zhi said, having clearly overheard the conversation.

“Actually, those roles weren’t very notable,” excitement and joy gradually surfaced in Rong Ke’s expression. “I didn’t expect Professor Zheng to still be following my career.”

“They might not be notable, but they’re important,” Yan Zhi said. “Take that wage claim episode. You were basically the lead, right?”

Surprised by Yan Zhi’s support, Rong Ke elbowed him playfully. “You’re really talking me up.”

“If your professor recommended you, does that mean it’s settled?” Yan Zhi asked.

“I still need to audition,” Rong Ke lay back down. “But I’m confident.”

“Mm,” Yan Zhi lay beside him. “I believe in you.”

The TV program remained boring, and New Year’s greetings were sent. Rong Ke gradually felt sleepy.

He found a comfortable position leaning on Yan Zhi’s shoulder, intending to rest his eyes briefly before getting up for the countdown. But he unknowingly drifted off.

“Look, even this little dog knows how to give New Year’s greetings,” Yan Zhi came across an amusing video and wanted to show Rong Ke, only to find him unresponsive.

“Rong Ke?” Yan Zhi called softly, still receiving no response.

The TV began the countdown: “Ten, nine, eight, seven…” Yan Zhi never saw the point in counting down with strangers, so to avoid disturbing Rong Ke, he simply turned off the TV.

The room suddenly fell silent, so quiet that Rong Ke’s breathing was almost audible.

However, seconds later, the fireworks display outside resumed at midnight, more spectacular than before. The bright lights stirred Rong Ke.

“Mm, is it New Year?” Rong Ke asked, half-asleep.

“Yes,” Yan Zhi said. “Happy New Year, Rong Ke.”

“Happy New Year,” Rong Ke responded slowly, hearing Yan Zhi use his name. He reciprocated, “Yan Zhi.”

Yan Zhi turned off the room lights, letting the fireworks’ glow illuminate the space.

Rong Ke’s profile flickered in the light, peaceful and unguarded, exuding a tranquil charm. Looking at his face, Yan Zhi found himself saying, “I wish you success in both career and love in the new year.”

“So you do know how to give New Year’s wishes,” Rong Ke opened his eyes, smiling. “Skip the love part, career success is enough.”

“No,” Yan Zhi said. “Love matters too.”

Rong Ke usually believed in reciprocating, but drowsy as he was, he couldn’t think of anything eloquent. He simply made Yan Zhi’s wishes more specific. “Then I wish you skyrocketing magazine sales in the new year, and may you find your own strong top.”

…Strong top?

Hearing this wish, Yan Zhi couldn’t hold back the laughter he’d been suppressing all evening and chuckled softly.

Fortunately, Rong Ke fell asleep right after speaking, his shoulders rising and falling steadily with each breath.

Yan Zhi adjusted his position, lying on his side and wrapping an arm around Rong Ke’s waist. He leaned close to Rong Ke’s ear and whispered, “I am one.”