HEIFEIGU -Chapter 102

“Isn’t that just ‘better you than me’?!”

Xie Jixing glared at A-Ji.

“This date can’t be refused. If you don’t go, what about me?”

“Play dumb? Ababa?”

He rolled his eyes up and down, ridiculously funny.

Seeing such an expression on a face so similar to his own, A-Ji was amused despite himself.

He looked troubled.

“We promised to meet at the peak… and when he came back, he could only meet a ghost…”

“That feels… kind of embarrassing.”

Xie Jixing glanced at him.

Half refusing, half inviting. The little ghost still wanted to go.

He just needed a step.

Xie Jixing took out the phone from the show. As expected, he had already received Qian Shuyun’s invitation. He shoved it in front of A-Ji.

“If you don’t want to go tomorrow, fine. Then later, you’re coming with me to date Boss Qian. Whether you want to or not.”

“Why?!” A-Ji didn’t understand. “So I can eat dog food and watch you show off?”

Xie Jixing raised an eyebrow.

“I suffer. You eat dog food. Sounds fair to me.”

A-Ji: …

To hell with “good brothers.”

He plucked at the fuzz on the little blanket for a while.

“Fine, I’ll go…”

“Let’s just… treat it as a farewell.”

The atmosphere of this “date” was nothing like a traditional one.

Even the staff watching the footage behind the cameras didn’t know what to say.

Zhu Qian had used his one precious chance on the show, but when he finally met Xie Jixing, he only gave him a faint nod in greeting.

On the way to the date location, Zhu Qian didn’t speak at all, like a silent hired driver.

But he had put in a bit of thought.

All the music in the car were songs A-Ji had once sung during livestreams.

Back then, A-Ji worked during the day and only streamed late at night.

He would hold his guitar, strumming randomly and humming casually.

There were barely any viewers anyway—to him, it was just a way to relax.

He never expected Zhu Qian to have recorded them.

Zhu Qian drove in silence.

The ghost listened in silence.

Only the completely clueless Xie Jixing tapped his foot to the rhythm.

He even muttered, “These songs are pretty nice. Share the playlist with me later?”

Zhu Qian’s grip on the steering wheel tightened suddenly.

He couldn’t help staring at Xie Jixing in the rearview mirror.

Xie Jixing was very sensitive to people’s gazes.

He bristled almost instantly and complained to the ghost.

“A-Ji, is something wrong with him?”

A-Ji paused.

“These… are songs I sang before…”

Crap. They’d been exposed way too fast.

Xie Jixing rubbed his nose.

If only they’d coordinated their stories last night.

The date location was an old garden villa hidden deep in the bustling city.

Quiet amid chaos—clearly very valuable.

The garden gate was an ornate European-style wrought-iron door.

On the stone pillar beside it hung a rectangular backlit metal plaque.

Engraved on it was a large cursive letter “J.”

Only when they reached the gate did Zhu Qian finally speak.

He didn’t look at Xie Jixing.

He touched the “J” on the plaque, as if talking to himself.

“This house was left to me by my mother.”

“But before, they didn’t want to give it to me.
They wanted to take everything I had.
I only managed to snatch it back from them last year.”

As he spoke, he opened the gate.

The plants in the garden were unusual.

There were hardly any ornamental flowers.

Instead, several kumquat and persimmon trees were heavy with fruit.

They looked festive and plump—completely mismatched with the elegant European-style building.

“You said you don’t like flowers,” Zhu Qian said, looking at the persimmons.

“Because you’re allergic to pollen. When you worked, you had to prune branches while sneezing.”

“So you said that if you ever had a yard, you’d fill it with fruit trees.”

“So you could eat the fruits you couldn’t afford before—especially strawberries.”

“There,” he pointed to a fenced-off patch, “I planted strawberries. Some are already red.”

“I remember you said ripe ones need to be wrapped, or birds will eat them…”

Xie Jixing felt completely stuffed by this emotional overload.

So much dog food.

He stared at A-Ji.

“You had a crush on him? Huh?”

“Did you call me here just to feed me dog food on purpose?!”

The ghost didn’t reply.

He just stared at the strawberry patch in a daze.

When Xie Jixing called him, he turned back.

His eyes were filled with complicated emotions—

Shock.
Regret.
Hope.
Joy.
And helplessness.

Xie Jixing sighed and said nothing more.

He followed Zhu Qian inside in silence.

The room had special soundproofing.

Zhu Qian shut the cameras outside.

Instantly, all audio signals were cut off.

Only then did he finally ask Xie Jixing directly: “Where is A-Ji?”

Xie Jixing glanced at the ghost.

A-Ji shook his head—he didn’t want to appear yet.

“Since you already know I’m not him…” Xie Jixing paused.

“Then where do you think he is…?”

What he said next was cruel, but necessary.

“Is it that you can’t imagine it…or that you refuse to accept it?”

That sentence tore away Zhu Qian’s last shred of hope.

He stared at Xie Jixing in disbelief.

His lips trembled, but no words came out.

He bent forward, hands on his knees.

He stayed like that for a long time.

A tiny droplet fell onto the floor, splashing into a small ripple.

The flame in A-Ji’s heart suddenly went out.

It took a while before it rekindled.

He drifted over and gently patted Zhu Qian’s back.

A chill traveled down his spine to his heart.

The piercing pain seemed soothed by the coolness.

Zhu Qian suddenly raised his head.

He didn’t care about exposing his most vulnerable self.

With reddened eyes, he stared at Xie Jixing.

“He’s still here, right?”

“Can you… let me see him once?”

A-Ji remained silent, gazing sadly at him.

See him?

What would that change?

Not see him?

Receiving no reply, Zhu Qian suddenly turned around.

He looked straight toward where the ghost stood.

“A-Ji… are you here?”

He stretched out his hand, groping in the air.

Filmed through glass, he looked like a helpless madman.

“I can feel you,” he said as he moved forward. “You’re very cold.”

A-Ji retreated step by step.

“You were like this before too,” Zhu Qian continued. “Your body temperature was always low. Your fingertips were always cold.”

He moved closer.

The ghost turned a corner—

And Zhu Qian stopped as well.

He turned and looked at where A-Ji now stood.

He didn’t chase further.

Instead, he wiped his tears and returned to Xie Jixing.

With a bitter smile, he said, “I think I’ve been a bit rude.”

“Please, sit.”

Xie Jixing sat at the small round table.

He watched Zhu Qian prepare tea, snacks, and fruit.

After everything was set, Zhu Qian sat opposite him.

“Do you know?”

“The ‘star’ in Summer Star is Xie Jixing’s star.”

“Guh—!”

Xie Jixing nearly sprayed out his tea.

Could he not start with something this explosive?

“I’ve liked A-Ji for a long time,” Zhu Qian said softly.

“So long that even he didn’t know.”

“He thought I met him through livestreams. But actually, I’d known him long before that.”

“I kept thinking how to make his life easier.”

“So he wouldn’t have to work so many jobs.”

“So he could just do what he loved and earn enough.”

“That’s why I entered the industry. Signed with that company. Sold all my copyrights.”

“I used everything as bargaining chips to form Summer Star.”

“I only had two conditions.”

“First, A-Ji had to be the lead vocalist.”

“Second, the group’s name had to include ‘Star.’”

“But after debuting, I realized I was too naive.”

“Things weren’t as ideal as I imagined.”

“Talent and ability always come after money and connections.”

“Even though all our output depended on me, my voice still wasn’t as strong as Xia Letian’s.”

“He couldn’t touch me, so he targeted A-Ji instead.”

“I tried to protect him, but I knew I wouldn’t always succeed.”

“That’s when I realized…The things I refused to fight for before were actually so important.”

“If I had enough money…or enough power…”

“I could’ve given him a better environment.”

“So he’d only have to sing…”

“But…”

A drop splashed into the tea, creating ripples.

“I came back too late.”

“Too late…”

A-Ji floated opposite with his head lowered.

No emotion showed.

Xie Jixing sighed deeply.

“Really not going to see him?”

A-Ji didn’t answer.

But the flickering flame in his heart betrayed his turmoil.

“I want to see him,” Zhu Qian said again.

His voice was soft, but firm.

“No matter what he’s become. No matter what it costs.”

He spoke to Xie Jixing—

But his gaze was fixed on the empty space opposite.

“Please.”

The blue flame in A-Ji’s heart shot up.

Xie Jixing unconsciously rubbed his fingers.

He sighed again.

A blue flame ignited in his palm.

“I’ll keep this flame burning,” he said to A-Ji.

“If you want to see him, come over.”

“If you don’t…”

“That’s fine too. After this date, he probably won’t ask again.”

A-Ji suddenly raised his head.

He now had a complete human form.

His eyes were clear, no longer distorted by ghostly mist.

They shimmered with tears.

He pressed his lips together.

As if making up his mind, he drifted over.

He placed his finger into the flame.

Xie Jixing poked Zhu Qian.

“Hey. Give me some blood.”

Zhu Qian froze.

He suddenly understood.

He stood up, grabbed a fruit knife, and cut his finger.

A drop of blood fell—

Before it could reach Xie Jixing’s palm, it turned into a wisp of smoke.

Next, a blurry human figure gradually became clear.

Compared to the unfamiliar Xie Jixing in front of him, this person was gentler and more reserved. He didn’t have that striking red mole, yet he possessed the outline that Zhu Qian had traced in his heart day and night.

This was a face that filled his memories.

“A-Ji… is that you?”