Chapter 80: CH 73

Chapter 73: Everyone is Equal

Yue Zhishi continued to not speak. He started to pant even harder after hearing Song Yu’s voice — he had no way to control it.

The tip of his nose was pushed into the soft pillow, and the hot, humid air he exhaled out soaked the cotton fabric of the pillowcase and dampened his eyelashes.

Song Yu wasn’t speaking anymore. 

“Gege…”

Yue Zhishi hazily realised — whenever he was at his most fragile, he would still subconsciously call out that title. No matter how intentionally he avoided using it normally, his innate dependency on his older brother was unchangeable and irreplaceable.

“Hm?” Song Yu’s voice was very low; it sounded steady and safe, the polar opposite of his.

Yue Zhishi knew his current state was incredibly embarrassing, yet the lust in his heart only grew as soon as he heard Song Yu’s voice.

“Can I hang up the phone…” he very quietly asked, suppressing his desire and gasps for air.

“You want to hang up?” Song Yu’s deep voice resonated beautifully when it arrived at his ear. “Where are you right now, tell me.” 

With great difficulty, Yue Zhishi said the two words of the apartment, and then he told him, holding back his pants, “On your bed.”

Song Yu was quiet for a few moments, and it made Yue Zhishi anxious — he really wanted to hang up the call, but contrarily enough, he also longed to hear Song Yu’s voice. The mixture of pleasure with embarrassment was extraordinarily tormenting. 

“Gege, can I hang up, I really don’t feel well…”

And yet Song Yu questioned him back very frankly, “Aren’t you thinking of me right now as you masturbate?” 

It was hard for Yue Zhishi to reply. He had no way to say he had this kind of reaction after seeing a photo of Song Yu’s hand — it was just that simple, just that casual.

“I’ll take your silence as you agreeing.” Song Yu asked again, “Don’t you want to hear my voice?”

Yue Zhishi was forever unable to lie to Song Yu.

“I do…”

“Turn on your camera.” Song Yu’s voice was a command.

Yue Zhishi’s pants had still yet to subside, and they came even quicker after Song Yu’s order. “No, I want to hang up.”

“Yue Zhishi, you’re not being a good boy.” When Song Yu directly called out his full name, it felt like it was grinding away the last bits of his shame.

Faintly, Yue Zhishi could feel a certain feeling hidden in the depths of his heart suddenly collapse. He was like the dead leaves in autumn, crushed to pieces.

“I don’t want to be good,” he somewhat sulkily said, pressing the side of his fevered face onto the pillow and wishing the room had some more oxygen. His voice sounded a bit pitiful. “Gege, don’t you miss me…”

Song Yu was silent for a few seconds, and then his voice turned husky. “What do you think?”

His voice was always so nice to listen to. Yue Zhishi thought there must be a hole in his heart; the thread cruelly left behind after stitching it up was placed in Song Yu’s hand, and it uncomfortably pulled at his heart with the lightest tug.

This felt a bit unfair, as though only he was suffering from lust’s control. He whimpered just like an injured puppy, enveloped in the blanket. “Gege, don’t you ever have sexual desires…”

Song Yu let loose a soft laugh, and it slid into Yue Zhishi’s ears through his earbuds, goosebumps sprouting all over his back as he shivered.

“Yue Zhishi, you’re really so innocent.” 

“Are your meds nearby?” Song Yu suddenly asked.

Yue Zhishi glanced at the bedside table. “Yes…”

“Pay attention to your reactions. Don’t get too excited, or else it’ll be really dangerous.” 

That sentence was clearly a reminder that he might suffer an attack, but under these circumstances, it sounded as though they were doing an erotic experiment.  

Song Yu’s voice once again came through. “Do you need help? Or should I hang up.”

Yue Zhishi was slightly flustered at his question. “Don’t hang up…”

“Then turn on the camera.” Song Yu’s voice was firm, but he very quickly added, “I only want to see your face.”

Yue Zhishi yielded — he was ensnared, and he dizzily pressed the button to turn on the camera. He left his phone on the pillow, the camera turned towards his face. 

It seemed to be very dark where Song Yu was, as though he was sitting in front of his laptop. He was even fully dressed, a black woollen turtleneck tightly wrapped around him all the way past his Adam’s apple. 

He didn’t adjust his camera; Yue Zhishi could only see Song Yu’s thin lips and his jaw, as well as his broad shoulders and chest. 

Yue Zhishi turned his face to the other side in shame, wanting to hide from him.

In his screen, Song Yu could see Yue Zhishi’s pale yet flushed nape under his messy, scattered hair — he could also see that black mole. His body was imperceptibly twisting underneath his blanket. 

Song Yu was like a cold and indifferent robot, observing and investigating the level of Yue Zhishi’s reactions and sexual behaviours at this very moment. “Are you hard?”

“Huh?” At first, Yue Zhishi was confused, sounding as though he didn’t understand Song Yu’s question, but he soon panted with a response. “Yes…”

Staring at his neck as it increasingly blushed, Song Yu asked a bit ruthlessly, “Why did you get hard? Did you watch something you shouldn’t have watched?” 

“No, I just saw your hand…” He squirmed against the bedsheets, the back of his neck following along with his movements. “Photo…”

Song Yu paused; Yue Zhishi’s breathing paused with him. 

“My hands can get you excited?”

“Mn…” Releasing a large breath, he started to turn submissive and obedient under Song Yu’s questioning. “….Yes.”

Song Yu’s voice continued to enter his ears. There was no patient, gentle persuasiveness in it, only a cool and impersonal sound. “Then do you react when I touch you?”

Yue Zhishi’s breathing quickened, and a single needy noise came out of his nose in reply. 

“Close your eyes,” Song Yu commanded. “It won’t be comfortable if it’s too dry. Suck my fingers.”

“But my hand’s really dirty. Do you mind?”

He shook his head in a hurry, saying he didn’t, and then took out a hand from the blanket and put it into his mouth.

“Turn around.”

Yue Zhishi still struggled against this command. “Mm… no…”

Song Yu stopped trying to force him. The wet, muffled noises that came from Yue Zhishi’s sucking — it was also very nice to listen to vague and suggestive sounds.

“Make sure you get them very wet. Lick with the tip of your tongue.” 

He heard Song Yu remind him, “Just like when you were sucking me. Understand?” 

That memory appeared without warning, and a layer of sweat covered Yue Zhishi’s entire body, absorbed by the silk on his skin as though it was sucking clean every single one of his pores. “Mm…”

Spit trickled down from the corners of his mouth — his fingers were already completely drenched. 

“Move your hand down,” Song Yu ordered, his voice calm. 

His brain muddled, Yue Zhishi did what he was told, and then he heard Song Yu tell him to imagine that it was his hand.

“My hand’s around you now.”

Song Yu was like a robot disturbed by hormones: the frequency of his waves started to waver, no longer as steady, and he praised Yue Zhishi through his own slight pants. 

“Yue Zhishi, you’re so beautiful.”

“You’re also very adorable down there.”

Yue Zhishi’s face was incredibly warm, and he could only touch his cock according to Song Yu’s instructions. This was something he’d never been able to imagine before — he lay on the bed, face turned sideways, and he pulled in large breaths of air with his mouth open. Broken, unimportant words repeatedly spilled from his lips, and the pitch of every single word lilted upwards, faintly quivering; he moaned Song Yu’s name in between his pants, his voice weak yet seductive.

“Gege…”

Song Yu’s voice was somewhat hoarse, as though he too couldn’t get enough air.

“You like calling me gege in bed that much?”

Everything he said seemed to step on Yue Zhishi’s ashamed heart. His reason broke apart piece by piece, desire grabbing hold of his entire body — the face that had refused to turn to the camera was now completely buried into the pillow, slightly suffocated. 

The sound of Song Yu’s voice attracted him like a magnet. “Does it feel good to do these kind of things with gege?” 

He unknowingly turned his face towards the camera in his search for oxygen. His hair, wet from sweat, was plastered onto his forehead, and his cheeks were damp and crimson — it was like his entire person was soaked wet. 

“Yes.” His eyes were closed, his thick eyelashes trembling; words of love for Song Yu stumbled from his slightly parted lips, and he kept saying he really liked him, really missed him. His gasps for air became more and more obvious, to the point even the pitch of his voice changed.

With a lowered voice, Song Yu asked, “Can I move faster?”

“Mm, yes.” Yue Zhishi’s body was already slightly arching. “Ge, hold me…”

“Okay.” Song Yu started to sound a bit breathless. “I’m hugging you from the back.” 

“Can you kiss me…” Yue Zhishi’s wet lips rubbed against the pillow, and he subconsciously stretched out a small part of his tongue before pulling it back in.

“Yue Zhishi, you really know how to entice people.” 

Song Yu’s voice passed verdict on him, nailing him to desire’s pillar of shame. “Didn’t you say before you wanted to be real brothers with me?”

“Can you do these things with your true older brother? Yue Zhishi.” 

Every time Song Yu called out his entire name, there was an overwhelming sense of oppression. He was about to suffocate, and yet Yue Zhishi lost himself in the boundaries between lust and morality.

“I don’t know…”

“You don’t know?” Song Yu mercilessly lay bare the truth with his hoarse voice. “It’s not like you don’t know. You’re about to come just by what I’m doing to you.”

“There’s no difference between the you right now and the you suffering from an attack. You can’t even control your breathing.” 

Yue Zhishi’s pants came even faster, Song Yu controlling everything he did. He feebly moved his hand on himself, weakly breathing in and breathing out — his entire body was sticky from sweat like a broken wind box completely dripping with honey. 

“Medicine…” His thoughts started to tangle, making him think he actually was suffering from an attack.

“Medicine’s useless,” Song Yu said to him in a gravelly voice. “Only I can save you.”

“Save me, gege, save me.”

“How do you want me to save you?” Song Yu’s voice remained cold, but it was blended with the sound of heavy breathing. He used the coldest voice to ask the most straightforward question. “By fucking you?”

“Fuck…” Yue Zhishi sounded disoriented — he couldn’t think, his mind utterly lost in his rapid, ragged breathing; suffering was accompanied by the pressure of pleasure, and he could only subconsciously repeat, “Gege, fuck me…” 

Song Yu didn’t give him a reply, and Yue Zhishi couldn’t endure it at all. His nipples were hard, and they grazed against the bedsheet, separated by the damp silk pyjamas. His whole body was almost at its limit — he could practically reach his peak just by hearing Song Yu’s increasingly heavy breathing. His urgent gasps made him sound like he was hyperventilating, and so the only thing he could do was to open his mouth and drag in large gulps of air, glistening spit leaking from his mouth and slowly drenching the pillow. 

“Hah… gege… I can’t, I’m about to come…” Yue Zhishi was about to come apart. He marginally cracked open his light-coloured eyes, and they were lost, covered by a layer of moisture. “The bed’s going to get dirty.” 

Even at the end, even as he watched Yue Zhishi utterly lose himself in sexual desire, Song Yu continued to act like a tolerant older brother. He gave out his final order.

“That’s fine. Le Le, you’re a very good boy. You can come.”

In the midst of his almost suffocated breaths, he heard Song Yu say I love you — and then he came, mind an absolute blank. Like a kite with its string cut through, he was no longer bound; he floated in the sky even though he had no more energy left. 

Yue Zhishi wasn’t someone with a high sex drive; he even rarely touched himself, because he didn’t feel the need to do so. He always looked at his feelings very purely, and the two times he’d masturbated was because he missed Song Yu. He had almost no way of accepting what he’d just done, and so he helplessly lay on the pillow in self defeat, not moving a single bit.

Over at the phone, Song Yu saw that he seemed to have finished and was only bonelessly panting on the bed. He used a voice entirely different from before to call his nickname. “Le Le.”

He was very tender at this moment. “Do you still feel unwell?” 

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Yue Zhishi shook his head, still on his stomach. He didn’t speak. 

“I really want to hug you.” Song Yu was no longer acting like earlier, with the attitude that could wilfully control Yue Zhishi. “You should be really soft right now, and really nice to hold.”

He talked so pragmatically once again, but Yue Zhishi still didn’t want to speak.

His reason gradually recovered, and he was practically buried alive in shame. He couldn’t understand why he became like that; he very clearly liked Song Yu in a very pure way.

Song Yu keenly sensed the change in his emotions, so he asked what was wrong. “Do you uncomfortable somewhere?” 

“No.”

Song Yu could tell Yue Zhishi’s voice didn’t sound quite right. He queried, “Are you crying?”

Yue Zhishi was immediately even more embarrassed with his thoughts exposed. The edges of his cheeks and ear that the camera could see were completely flushed red. “Don’t worry about me anymore. You should hurry and sleep.”

“Why are you crying?” Song Yu didn’t plan on going away. “Tell me, or else I won’t be able to sleep.”

Yue Zhishi didn’t want Song Yu to lose sleep because of him, so he still gave up after a bit more struggling.

“How did I turn into this? I wasn’t like this before. It’s all because of you.” Yue Zhishi tearfully said, “I only feel like this when I miss you.”

Song Yu let out a sigh in relief and stayed quiet for a few seconds. He guessed Yue Zhishi was currently under too much stress, too busy, and also really missed him — which is why his emotions were a bit fragile.

So he very patiently asked, “You didn’t like it?”

Yue Zhishi sniffed. “I feel like I’m being really strange. I’m not normally like this.”

“You weren’t being strange at all. Everyone’s like that.” Song Yu said tranquilly, “If you didn’t feel anything towards me, then I’d actually suspect whether you liked me or not.”

“I like you,” Yue Zhishi retorted back as quickly as he could. “I like you the most.”

Song Yu softly laughed. “Then can you accept doing stuff like this?” It was as though he was giving him a warning. “We might do even more excessive things later.” 

“When is ‘later’?” Yue Zhishi asked.

“When we’re doing things like this,” Song Yu lowered his voice, “I might even bully you.” 

Yue Zhishi’s face was warm from being pushed into the pillow. Turning his face over, he looked at the camera — his red tinted eyes and nose were covered by a layer of moisture. Song Yu thought he was going to ask something, but the train of his thoughts was a bit bizarre. He didn’t care at all about whether he was going to get bullied. Instead, he asked, “This time didn’t count? Or last time?”

“Neither of them count. I was far from bullying you.” Song Yu exposed only the bottom half of his face to his camera, as well as that very ascetic looking black woollen sweater. His thin lips faintly opened and closed, no curve to his lips; he didn’t look very happy.

“You’re already crying from today. Who knows how hard you’re going to end up crying in the future — maybe we should forget about it.”

“No, don’t.” Yue Zhishi was a bit anxious from his teasing, dropping a few tears, and even wriggled on the pillow in a fit of pique. “I won’t cry next time.”

“Really?” Song Yu’s straight lips vaguely curved up. He leaned backwards and revealed his entire face — he was elegantly, immaculately dressed and was even wearing his glasses. Without a single hair out of place, he looked the complete opposite of Yue Zhishi. 

“Good boy,” he said, giving Yue Zhishi a compliment like a piece of candy.

Yue Zhishi gazed at the person in his screen, spellbound, before slowly blinking a few times in confusion. He whispered, “I really miss you.”

Song Yu’s eyes softened; he pulled off his glasses and moved his hand in the air, looking as though he was caressing Yue Zhishi’s hair. “I can’t carry you to the shower this time.”

“I can go myself.” Yue Zhishi remembered something and tugged at the clothes on his body. He honestly admitted, “But I’m wearing your sleeping clothes. I also dirtied your bed — I was even drawing on it.”

“That’s fine.” Song Yu’s eyes were warm and gentle as he gazed at him.

“But you really like being clean.” Yue Zhishi felt slightly uneasy.

There was a tender look on Song Yu’s face, and his mouth crooked up in a faint smile. “You’re the cleanest child in the world, no matter what you do.” 

That sentence wasn’t some beautiful, romantic speech; it was just a simple reply, and yet it gave Yue Zhishi a burning face and racing heart. He didn’t know what he should say, so he only leaned in closer with a bit of a coquettish whine in his voice. He gave Song Yu a kiss through the camera, as though he was expressing his gratitude.

He didn’t know if he saw wrongly, but he kept feeling that there was a shred of apology hidden in Song Yu’s face.

A few seconds passed, and then Song Yu spoke. He asked with some hesitation, “Was I too hard on you just then?” 

Yue Zhishi felt a bit shy — he covered his face with the pillow. “A bit.”

“I won’t be like that next time.” After promising, he then added, “I didn’t know what you liked.” 

It was only at this moment that Yue Zhishi suddenly realised: actually, Song Yu had no experience at all as well. Perhaps he’d only subconsciously, unintentionally revealed his desire for control.

“No.” Lowering the pillow a fraction, Yue Zhishi showed off his pair of beautiful eyes. “I liked it when you were being a bit fierce. Especially when you were calling my full name.”

And before he could feel shy again, he rapidly continued to say, “But can you not be mean to me usually?”

“Mn.” Song Yu nodded. “I won’t.”

Yue Zhishi was still unwilling to hang up the call as he showered and cleaned up. He kept asking Song Yu many questions, like when was he coming back, can he go pick him up, what present was he giving him this time… He chattered all the way until Song Yu also got into bed, and only then did he slightly quiet down.

“Do you still want me to read my diary to you?” Yue Zhishi asked.

Song Yu rested inside his very cold blanket, humming in agreement. Slightly surprised, he asked, “You even brought over your diary?”

“Yup,” Yue Zhishi said, grabbing the diary from the bedside table and flipping through it, “because I was worried you wouldn’t be able to sleep. I thought I’d be able to read it to you whenever you wanted if you asked. At least this way you can sleep well while away.”

Song Yu said thank you — he sounded quite serious, and it made Yue Zhishi feel somewhat shy.

Clearing his throat, he carelessly flipped to a random page and read out, “October 28th, rain. I’m so happy it’s raining. I won’t bring an umbrella, so I can get gege to…” Halfway through, Yue Zhishi squinted at the words for a long while. “Ah, this guy didn’t even know how to write the word ‘hold’ for ‘hold the umbrella’.” 

Song Yu wanted to laugh and asked, “Are you talking about yourself?” 

Yue Zhishi remembered this was actually his diary. He felt a bit awkward, but he continued reading, pretending nothing had happened. “….so I can get gege to hold the umbrella for me. Gege normally doesn’t like holding my hand, but he’ll let me hold onto him when he’s holding up the umbrella. He gets scared that I’ll step into all the water puddles on the street. Even though he says I’m an idiot, he’s still the absolutely best gege in the entire universe.”

After finishing, Yue Zhishi could hear the sound of Song Yu trying not to laugh. He was a bit helpless. “Why is my diary all about you?” 

“Who knows. Gege this, gege that — you just didn’t like gege.”

“I did like you, I just understood it late…” Yue Zhishi weakly argued back. He turned to another page. “Next entry… raining again. This entry’s not bad, it’s very long.”

“October 29th, raining today too. My socks got wet, and I wasn’t too happy about it. But when I entered my classroom and realised everyone’s socks were wet, I became happy again. Now I really like it when it rains. Because the teacher will say some very not nice things to the student who tested the worst…” And then, Yue Zhishi couldn’t help but complain about the flow of the passage. “What is this writing? There’s no logical flow to it.”

Song Yu gave the same evaluation to both his childish writing and current complaint about himself: “Very cute.”

Yue Zhishi felt somewhat bashful at abruptly being praised, but he forged on. “Because of his bad grades, the teacher thought he was the one who didn’t turn in his homework. But the teacher was wrong. First place Chen Miaomiao and last place Wang Xiaofeng both didn’t bring umbrellas today, so they both got wet. Both of them got wet the same amount as each other. It looks like rain is fairer than the teacher.”

After finishing that passage, Yue Zhishi pushed away the diary in mortification and then flopped onto his pillow. “I’m not going to read this anymore in the future, I feel like you’re going to laugh so hard you won’t be able to sleep.”

But Song Yu asked very earnestly, “But didn’t you write very well? The rain really did treat them more fairly than the teacher. It treats people more equally than many other people do.”

Yue Zhishi didn’t really think about his words, only taking them as Song Yu consoling him; he simply let out a glum ‘mn’.

But then suddenly, a thread of inspiration flashed through his mind — he wildly lifted up his head and grabbed the diary, carefully rereading that page. 

“I got it,” he said to Song Yu with exhilaration. “I know what the concept should be for the third round now. It’s ‘equality’.”

Song Yu hummed, and then, with gentleness and sincerity, he encouraged him, saying, “Keep going.”

“The concepts for our first two rounds are ‘time’ and ‘space’. Rain will be the thread linking both of them together since it can bridge the distance between time and space. That diary entry just then made me think — rain treats everyone equally, just like law. No matter if you’re rich or poor, man or woman; it doesn’t matter how old you are or what race you come from. Rain will always fall on them as long as they want it to. No one will be rejected by the rain. Am I right?”

Song Yu really wanted to see how Yue Zhishi looked like right at this very moment. He thought he would look extremely, absolutely enchanting.

“You’re right. That’s a very extraordinary idea; it’s particularly clever.”

Yue Zhishi climbed out of bed, turning on the lamp on the desk. “I have so many thoughts right now, I want to try to sketch them all out.” He then said to Song Yu, “Gege, are you sleepy now?”

“You want to abandon me again?” Song Yu intentionally said, “Go. Since I’m already used to being just a tool.”

Yue Zhishi cutely whined and said he didn’t. “How about I turn on the camera so you can watch as I draw? You can sleep once you’re tired.”

“All right.”

He sat in front of the desk, his arms draped around the left leg lifted onto the chair. His face was settled on his knee as he casually drew with his right hand.

The light of the lamp blurred that face mixed with both eastern and western features with a golden veil — it made him look both priceless and beautiful. 

Song Yu lay in a field of darkness, quietly watching Yue Zhishi in his screen. Once he fell silent, it was truly as though he was a figure found only in relief sculptures and murals; there was no sense of frivolous makeup over his pale, almost transparent skin. He was beautiful without being superficial, and he lured people in without meaning to — he was clean, holy and pure.

If he was marred by possessiveness, wicked thoughts or a desire to destroy, then it would solely be his fault. Yue Zhishi was forever innocent.

“Your knee needs to be treated,” Song Yu quietly said.

Yue Zhishi docilely nodded. “You can put some cream on it when you’re back.”

“Okay,” Song Yu replied.

Yue Zhishi had no idea when Song Yu fell asleep; he’d been too focused on his work. He only realised Song Yu was breathing deeply, eyes closed, when he lifted his head. He stared at his screen for a long, long time, lost in his thoughts, and his finger lightly traced over Song Yu’s nose.

Yue Zhishi silently thought, this person was really quite strange. He’d given him commands with such force, even saying he’d bully him in the future — and yet after everything was done, he’d apologetically asked if he’d gone too far.

He thought, there really might not be another person in the world who could move his heart so much.

After spending an entire night in the apartment, Yue Zhishi sent a message the next morning to the design team’s group chat on WeChat called [Little Swallow Dressed in Flowery Clothes]. He said he had a new idea, so Nan Jia once again borrowed a classroom at midday for an unplanned team meeting.

“I’ll talk quickly so everyone can go back and rest.” Yue Zhishi pulled out the few pieces of paper with his design concept from his bag and gave them to everyone. “I think we can use ‘rain’s equality’ for the third round of the show.”

“Equality?” Chen Pi didn’t understand his meaning. “Why?”

Yue Zhishi explained, “Because rain doesn’t care about your race, your gender or even your social class. As long as you want to be rained on, rain will always fall on everyone, equally.”

This concept surprised everyone.

“And besides, after going through time and space, our theme will finally return back to humanity. It matches our law school’s philosophy. Everyone is equal in front of the law, just like how rain will pour over the whole of society.”

Qu Zhi flicked a brow. “I like this idea.”

“But,” Nan Jia was recording down Yue Zhishi’s words in a notebook, and she queried, “how are we meant to express this equality?”

“That’s what I’m going to talk about next.” Yue Zhishi brought out the rough drafts he created in a rush last night. “I’ve thought of these designs so far. Using different designs, we can represent all the different types of people — for example, making our clothes look old and putting holes in them can represent ‘impoverished’. Or using expensive fabrics for ‘wealthy’.”

“I understand now,” Zhou Yi said. “And men, women, children and the elderly…”

“That’s right, just like that. We don’t have to confine how our models look like either; they don’t necessarily have to be tall and beautiful — because rain is equal.” Yue Zhishi pointed at a paper. “For ‘rain’, we can use a see through material to make a thin outer coat and to simulate how it feels to have rain fall on someone’s body. I researched some fabrics, and there’s a certain type that’s really thin and really glossy. We might be able to use it to give off that light blue, watery feeling. I’ll look for it after class these next two days.”

“If we really can use it, then we’ll be able to have everyone look like they’re standing under the rain!” Even Chen Pi was excited.

“And we really can make it rain.” Nan Jia said, “I’ve already talked to the organiser’s stage designers, and they said we can add in a machine for water. We just need to let them know ahead of time for them to organise it.” 

Yue Zhishi nodded. “That’s great. The entire round should look really good if the stage effects can match.” 

Qu Zhi was a bit impressed with him. “Your brain has a lot of unusual and weird things.”

“Yeah…” Xiao Qi still spoke very softly, but she now even dared to joke with Yue Zhishi. “What inspired you? What good thing happened last night?”

“Ah…” Yue Zhishi’s face instantly burned. “Nothing, nothing — I just suddenly thought of it.”

“Are you sure? I feel like there’s something not quite right here,” Nan Jia deliberately teased.

“Really.” For his own self protection, Yue Zhishi threw out an important subject to change the topic. “By the way, I’ve thought of an incredible finishing move to end the show. It’ll definitely shock the entire room.”

“Finishing move?? What is it?”

“It’s a secret.” A sly smile appeared on Yue Zhishi’s face.

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