9 Greed

Chapter 9

“So why did you suddenly decide to go back to work?” While waiting at a red light, Hu Yue gave a sarcastic smile as he glanced through the rearview mirror at the man in the back seat.

It had been half a month since they last met, and Hu Yue felt like he hardly recognized his own artist anymore.

Gu Shi didn’t look up from his phone and said indifferently, “He doesn’t like that I’m not working.”

Hu Yue was about to lose his mind, nearly in tears, banging his head against the steering wheel. “So who is he exactly? Can’t you tell me? I’m really good at keeping secrets! I swear I won’t tell a soul!”

Gu Shi glanced at him, and Hu Yue thought there was hope. He leaned in eagerly, only to hear two words: “Can’t.”

The interview was scheduled to start at eight; it was now seven. Hu Yue planned to call the interview coordinator at six-thirty to apologize and discuss the breach fee—money Meng Xiaozhu had transferred to him.

At 6:29, Gu Shi called him, asking to be picked up somewhere less crowded.

Thus, today’s work was saved.

“The interview is right here—not in the next city, not even the next province. Otherwise, you’d really be in trouble,” Hu Yue said. “I just don’t get you. You’ve been in the industry eight years, everyone knows you’re a nonstop workaholic. What’s all this fuss about lately...?”

“Dating,” Gu Shi replied.

“Oh...” Hu Yue’s words caught in his throat, his thoughts condensed into a single “Oh.”

Then his eyes suddenly widened, and he turned his head, shouting, “You’ve found someone?!”

Gu Shi frowned, looked up from his phone, and said solemnly, “Watch the road and drive properly.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry! I’m just really surprised.” Hu Yue quickly turned back to driving, his eyes wide as saucers in the rearview mirror. “So you’re living at his place now?”

Gu Shi didn’t answer, tacitly agreeing.

The only rule they had set was that, besides family, no one else could know where he lived.

Wasn’t that what Gu Shi had just said?

Hu Yue asked, “You haven’t been working for half a month—did he forbid you? Wait, no, you just said he dislikes that you’re not working, so that’s why you’re out tonight.”

Gu Shi said flatly, “He doesn’t watch TV at all.”

“Ah.”

When Hu Yue first took Gu Shi under his wing, hoping to better understand his artist, he asked him why he wanted to stay in showbiz and what his aspirations were. After listening, Hu Yue was silent for a long moment before saying, “That’s pretty good,” though inwardly he thought Gu Shi was crazy.

Gu Shi rolled down the car window and quickly snapped a photo of the distant clouds.

“Crazy,” Hu Yue muttered, looking at him like a love-struck fool lost at sea.

At home, Xuan Congnan received a message from Gu Shi.

Scavenger: “Will you watch my interview?”

Tomorrow was the weekend. Xuan Congnan had returned to school briefly to bring back his easel from the studio, just setting it up by the window.

Xuan Congnan replied honestly: “Is the link on Weibo?”

Xuan Congnan: “I don’t have Weibo. Actually, I don’t have many apps; my phone can’t handle them.”

Scavenger: “Okay.”

Scavenger: “I’ll be back at 10. Leave the door open for me.”

He had said it once before leaving, now repeating it like a forgetful child.

Xuan Congnan: “Got it.”

Xuan Congnan: “Don’t worry. If I lock the door, I’ll open it when you get back.”

Scavenger: “Okay.”

Tonight’s sunset was beautiful—a fiery red cloud stretching across the horizon as if scattering peony petals into the sky.

Tomorrow promised to be another scorching day.

Xuan Congnan sat by the window, avoiding direct sunlight on his board, capturing the last rays of the sunset.

The canvas lay flat on the easel.

Beside him were paints, various brushes—round-tip, flat-tip—a palette, linseed oil, turpentine, and other supplies.

He sharpened several pencils carefully, collecting the shavings in a trash can at his feet to keep them from flying everywhere.

Pencil lines traced faint outlines on the 8k-sized paper.

Xuan Congnan’s strokes were so light and delicate it seemed as if he wasn’t drawing on paper at all, merely laying the groundwork for what was to come.

The base color today was red. He added an appropriate amount of turpentine to the paint to thin it, making the base easier to spread.

Peace was hard-earned and thus deeply cherished by Xuan Congnan.

Suddenly, his phone rang.

He glanced sideways, saw an unfamiliar number, and didn’t answer.

A little later, it vibrated twice again.

Since WeChat notifications popped up without restriction, he saw a message.

Scavenger: “Congnan, I’ll bring some supper when I come back tonight. Don’t cook for yourself.”

Xuan Congnan wiped his hands and typed with a knuckle: “Okay.”

Scavenger: “My work hasn’t started yet. What are you doing now? Can you talk with me for a bit?”

Xuan Congnan: “Painting.”

Scavenger: “You paint. I won’t bother you.”

Thinking back to their first meeting, Xuan Congnan had sketched Gu Shi against the night skyline; Gu Shi noticed but said nothing.

He had said, “You’re painting. You need quiet.”

Xuan Congnan continued laying color on the paper, his brushstrokes light yet rich.

Summer’s heat made the air dry, so he added a moisturizer to the paint’s mix. On the way back from the studio, he even brought back a small humidifier to maintain moisture—enough for today’s work.

When he was a third done, darkness had fallen, and city lights twinkled on.

Xuan Congnan drew the curtains and waited for the paint to dry a bit.

Suddenly, he recalled Gu Shi’s question about whether he would watch the interview.

They weren’t very close—just known each other for half a month—but not strangers either, since they were roommates.

So, was Gu Shi hoping he’d watch, or hoping he wouldn’t?

Since they were living together, maybe he wanted him to watch.

Xuan Congnan opened his phone and went to the app store to download Weibo.

The download went smoothly, but during installation, some system error caused it to spin endlessly. The first attempt failed.

His cheap old phone had poor performance and insufficient memory.

If he remembered correctly, his phone had 32GB of storage.

Usually, he carefully avoided unnecessary apps and cleaned junk regularly, so the memory had sufficed.

But just now, the second installation succeeded, and immediately the phone warned, “Your storage is full, please clear some space.”

Xuan Congnan: “...”

Maybe he should just delete it.

He’d already installed it; uninstalling would be a hassle.

He opened Weibo, registered an account with his phone number, and chose the nickname “Nan Nan Bu Nan.”

He searched for “Gu Shi,” and the first result was Gu Shi’s live interview from today.

It was now 9:10 PM, ten minutes past the one-hour mark. As soon as he entered, Xuan Congnan caught the tail end.

Within a minute, the stream lagged due to crowding and kicked him out briefly.

Xuan Congnan: “.”

He couldn’t tell what kind of interview it was, only hearing the poised female host ask the sharply dressed Gu Shi, “Fans are very concerned about where you’ve been these past two weeks. Could you share?”

Xuan Congnan’s heart tightened.

Gu Shi said, “Private matters.”

Xuan Congnan relaxed, thinking Gu Shi was being obedient.

“Alright then, I won’t press further.” The host smiled and didn’t pursue the topic despite protests in the comments.

Two minutes later, Gu Shi stood, thanked everyone, and left the stage. The interview ended.

Xuan Congnan: “...”

He muttered, “What a pointless watch.”

Gu Shi arrived home at 9:50 PM. Xuan Congnan had locked the door.

Hearing knocking, he quickly wiped his paint-covered hands and hurried to open the door. After checking around cautiously and seeing no one suspicious, Xuan Congnan relaxed.

“I bought shrimp fried rice and sweet soup.” Gu Shi held up several neatly packaged bags. Removing his black hat and mask with his other hand, he looked more approachable than the cold, reserved man in the formal clothes from the camera.

Xuan Congnan, used to this version of Gu Shi, took the food and said, “This is enough. The shrimp fried rice smells so good.”

Two portions of shrimp fried rice were together, two of sweet soup, and another particularly exquisite bag that didn’t look like dinner.

He didn’t ask—it wasn’t his business.

“Here’s a phone. It’s for you.” Gu Shi took a rectangular box out of the fancy bag.

After washing his hands and returning to unpack dinner, Xuan Congnan dropped a pair of disposable chopsticks. “Huh?”

Gu Shi bent down and picked up an unopened pair, saying, “I’m your roommate now. Because of work, you should know my schedule. A new phone will make that easier. Take it.”

Xuan Congnan naturally refused, finding Gu Shi’s gesture puzzling. “I have a phone.”

Gu Shi said, “Yours is too slow.”

Xuan Congnan replied, “I don’t need to know your schedule.”

Gu Shi lowered his gaze and said softly, “I want you to know.”

Xuan Congnan took the disposable chopsticks and looked longingly at the phone.

He didn’t know much about phones but recognized this was the latest model.

“...Are you trying to get one more fan?” Xuan Congnan asked, puzzled. That was the only explanation he could think of.

Gu Shi looked up and nodded, “Yes.”

Xuan Congnan clicked his tongue, “Greedy.”

Gu Shi agreed, “Mm.”

He pushed the phone forward. “Here, take it. You can use it to take pictures without having to delete photos all the time to clear space.”

Xuan Congnan didn’t take it immediately. He opened his old phone and asked, “Do you want me to return it?”

“No,” Gu Shi said immediately.

Xuan Congnan raised his phone and smiled, “I can record audio, you know.”

Sure enough, the phone showed a new recording, only three seconds long.

Gu Shi looked into Xuan Congnan’s eyes for a long moment, then blinked lightly and looked away. “Smart.”

The new phone had one terabyte of storage.

Its screen was highly responsive and quick.

The back was a glassy aquamarine, soft and cool in appearance. Xuan Congnan admired the color. “I really like this.”

Gu Shi said, “Glad you do.”

“Thank you,” Xuan Congnan said.

“Mhm,” Gu Shi replied.

When Gu Shi came back, Xuan Congnan had just complimented the dinner’s aroma. Now, dinner wasn’t as appetizing as before. He focused on removing the SIM card from his old phone and inserting it into the new one.

The signal icon changed from an “X” to full bars in two seconds.

A strange ringtone suddenly sounded, startling Xuan Congnan. His thumb slipped and answered the call. Trying to hang up, he accidentally switched to speakerphone.

“Nan Nan?”

Xuan Congnan: “...”

Sometimes, a phone that’s too sensitive isn’t a good thing.

Shen Qian’s voice was hurried, “Don’t hang up, please listen. Nan Nan, can we meet? Don’t keep avoiding me. I’m really upset.”

A whole year—365 days—had passed.

During all those days, Shen Qian had been in Xuan Congnan’s world every single day.

Hearing Shen Qian’s sadness, Xuan Congnan’s lips pressed tightly, his expression complex.

Shen Qian’s speech was rapid: “We have to talk everything through clearly. Let me explain. I’m at the restaurant opposite your building. Please come out and see me.”

“Can we not go?” Xuan Congnan was surprised and looked at Gu Shi, who spoke for the first time.

Gu Shi gazed steadily at Xuan Congnan, his voice even softer than before. “Congnan, can we not go?”