You Are Deep in The Stars

Wang Yuanchen took off his coat and tossed it aside. He sat on the sofa like it was his throne, his long and straight legs resting on the coffee table. He raised his chin slightly and ordered, “Speak.”

Speak about what? Liu Chunchun felt innocent but defended himself without much confidence. “It’s because you didn’t want to go to the barbecue with me. But I still invited you last night.”

It was true; he had invited him. Wang Yuanchen had even prepared himself, planning to condescend to accompany him to the greasy barbecue stall. But who would have guessed that Liu Chunchun would immediately say, “My colleagues will definitely love to get to know you.”

Mr. Wang remained calm and retracted the step he had just taken to join the earthly world of human life.

He said expressionlessly, “I won’t go.”

Liu Chunchun regretfully said, “Oh,” and they left it at that.

After repeated failed attempts to stay involved, Wang Yuanchen grew increasingly unhappy. Nevertheless, he still adhered to his duties as a bodyguard with professional ethics. He kept sitting in the café opposite the barbecue stall, staring at him—watching Liu Chunchun surrounded by girls, smiling foolishly, pointing at the camera, and flirting while getting into a car. It seemed as if he had completely forgotten Mr. Wang’s existence.

Seeing that Wang Yuanchen didn’t speak for a long time, Liu Chunchun asked again, “Have you had dinner?”

Wang Yuanchen leaned back on the sofa, closed his eyes, and did not answer. Buying eight cups of coffee to get one free certainly didn’t count as dinner, and in reality, his stomach was already feeling quite uncomfortable.

Liu Chunchun grabbed the wool blanket from the side, shook it out, and covered him before quietly heading to the kitchen.

The familiar sound of pots and pans started to echo, and the low fire simmered, allowing the vegetables and shredded meat in the pot to release an enticing aroma. The chicken soup base was already prepared, and there were still bundles of frozen, handmade dry noodles in the refrigerator, a weekend project of Liu Chunchun’s. Neither of them could quite pinpoint when the steaks, lobsters, caviar, and truffles in the refrigerator had gradually been replaced by ribs, pickles, beef brisket, and a generous selection of milk, juice, bread, and vegetables.

The high-end restaurant lost a major takeout customer, but Liu Chunchun had gained a picky but not overly fussy eater. The pickiness was in the words, but the willingness to eat was in the actions—though Mr. Wang always seemed to have some critique of his cooking, every meal still made its way into his stomach.

Late that night, a bowl of warm chicken soup with shredded pork and noodles and two plates of small cold dishes were set on the dining table.

“Go wash your hands,” Liu Chunchun said, pouring a glass of warm lemon water. “Then come over and eat.”

Wang Yuanchen maintained the same posture, unmoving, his eyes still closed.

Liu Chunchun approached him casually and reached out, poking the little knot tied behind his head.

Wang Yuanchen: “…”

“You really don’t want to eat it?” Liu Chunchun asked, picking up the blanket from the floor. “It has chicken fat and pine mushrooms. It’s really fragrant.”

Wang Yuanchen asked in a muffled voice, “What is that?”

Liu Chunchun replied, “You’ll know after you eat it.”

After a brief moment of consideration, Mr. Wang accepted the suggestion.

After drinking a mouthful of warm chicken soup, his stomach, which had been abused by coffee, felt much better. Liu Chunchun sat beside him, yawning. He looked very sleepy and exhausted.

Wang Yuanchen was halfway through his meal when he suddenly reached out, rubbed Liu Chunchun’s face, and then patted him hard.

Liu Chunchun opened his eyes and asked drowsily, “What else do you want to eat?”

“Do you have many friends?” Wang Yuanchen asked.

“Yes, there are many.” Liu Chunchun replied casually. He had been popular since he was a child and was rushed to be held by nurses as soon as he was born.

Wang Yuanchen retracted his hand casually and continued to eat with his head down.

The atmosphere in the room seemed to have become depressing again.

Although he was almost unconscious from sleepiness, Liu Chunchun was still keenly aware of all this, so he sat up straight in an instant and added, “But among all my friends, you rank first.”

Wang Yuanchen glanced at him. “What about Bai Xi?”

This showed that he did know who his number one competitor was.

“Brother Bai and you are tied for first place,” Liu Chunchun replied.

Wang Yuanchen stopped his chopsticks and considered whether he should continue to bully the opponent fiercely to ensure his absolute first position or ignore this problem for the time being—he was actually a little tired, so he was not in the mood to talk much. If the person sitting across from him at that moment had not been Liu Chunchun, but anyone else, even if it was the famous Han Zhuo, he would probably have gone back to the bedroom impatiently.

“Are you angry again?” Liu Chunchun sat next to him. “Okay, okay, you’ll be number one.”

Wang Yuanchen asked, “Do you know what I want to do now?”

Liu Chunchun said politely, “Send me the latest Porsche.”

Wang Yuanchen replied, “Press your head into the bowl.”

Liu Chunchun knocked his head on the dining table in response.

When he looked up again, Wang Yuanchen had already returned to the bedroom, leaving only a bowl with not even a drop of soup left and two bare plates.

Liu Chunchun cleaned up the kitchen and yawned as he passed by the master bedroom.

“Good night,” he said.

Mr. Wang did not answer. Five minutes later, a rain of pearls fell on the guest bed.

The reward for cooking noodles late at night, although expensive, was also very sad.

Cinderella Chun came online again, in the quiet midnight, holding a small basket and sleepily squatting on the bed to pick up pearls.