FSGOR Ch18

The phone slipped from his palm and slammed hard against the wooden floor, the dull thud tearing Jiang Tian’s last shred of composure apart.

He bent down to pick it up, the tips of his ears and neck blazing red. In that moment, he wished he could turn into a boiled duck and vanish on the spot.

“…”

President Chu had actually called him baby.

Not only that—on the phone speaker lying on the ground, the man’s lazy, magnetic voice still came through: “What’s wrong?”

Jiang Tian pressed his lips tightly together. What’s wrong, he asked? Of course the guy wanted him to call him “husband” next.

He couldn’t say a word. That unexpectedly indulgent baby had turned terrifying. His mind flooded again with Lu Qiao and Lu Yang’s signature brainwashing:

—If you don’t run now, you’re doomed.

Jiang Tian snatched up the phone and stood—only to hit the corner of the desk in his panic. The pain brought him slightly back to his senses.

Still, he could only manage a muffled: “I…”

“Hmm?”

Chu Xuyu’s voice took on an amused edge: “Still pretending to be clueless?”

He was pretending. The last time he’d blurted “husband” at the bar entrance, it had just been to get rid of an annoying flirt. He’d panicked. It was a desperate move.

But now he was actually planning to run—there was no way he’d keep playing along.

“No,” Jiang Tian replied, unexpectedly calm, even a little distant, despite how hot his face still burned.

On the other end, Chu Xuyu, sharp as ever, picked up on the subtle shift in tone. The air turned eerily silent.

Just a moment ago, he’d been calling him baby, and now—nothing. As the one who started all this, Jiang Tian was already sweating cold down his back.

Forcing himself to speak, he muttered, “I… it’s kind of inconvenient to talk right now.”

The man’s breathing deepened, but he didn’t respond—clearly waiting for Jiang Tian to continue. But he truly didn’t know what else to say.

“Inconvenient,” Chu Xuyu’s patience thinned. “Or you just don’t want to?”

Jiang Tian’s brain went blank. Even as a star student in debate, always articulate and logical, right now he could only rely on instinct.

“Ge…” he hesitated. “Can I change how I call you?”

On the other end, Chu Xuyu raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

He leaned heavily into the single armchair, eyes narrowing. With a cold chuckle, he asked, “Is it because you can’t bring yourself to say that name?”

Jiang Tian was just about to explain when someone knocked on his door, and a dog barked outside—it was probably Zhao Yuanhao bringing over the border collie.

Worried his friend’s voice would be overheard, he reached to mute the call—but accidentally hung up.

***

Meanwhile—

Chu Xuyu frowned slightly. The line went dead with no warning. It felt like he’d just been toyed with.

But then, a familiar sticker popped up on his screen—a cartoon border collie rolling over to expose its belly, clearly acting cute.

His irritation instantly melted. He thought for a moment, then realized: the little sweetheart was probably just embarrassed.

KIRA: dog jumping around.jpg

Afternoon Tea: Shy?

KIRA: dog kisses.jpg

Afternoon Tea: …

KIRA: dog nuzzles.jpg

Afternoon Tea: Got it.

Trying to play cute and brush it off?

Fine.

Chu Xuyu smirked slightly. He still had meetings to attend and didn’t have time to keep chatting. He told the other to talk later and turned to work.

What he didn’t expect… was that the sender really was the actual border collie.

Jiang Tian had been a mess lately, and when Zhao Yuanhao and his boyfriend came to visit, they brought the clingy little dog with them.

The moment he opened the door, the border collie leapt up and knocked his phone out of his hands. The stickers were all sent by the dog’s chaotic paw taps.

“…”

At least it had saved him from a terrifying conversation.

Over the following days, Jiang Tian was surrounded by Lu Qiao and Zhao Yuanhao, who constantly brainstormed escape plans for him—trying to help him cleanly withdraw from this ridiculous situation.

This continued for nearly half a month. Eventually, feeling guilty about distracting them from studying for the college entrance exam, Jiang Tian insisted they focus on revision every time they met, and the crisis finally settled.

He still went to school as usual, seemingly unaffected. But no one knew just how much he was struggling internally.

Being called baby by his sister’s former boss was a psychological blow he couldn’t quite digest. In hidden corners, he battled with himself more times than he could count.

In his mind, a devilish border collie—complete with wings and a forked tail—kept shouting:

“Run now! Run now!”

And yet, the more it yelled, the calmer Jiang Tian became. Sitting at his desk, he set down his pen and quietly told the imaginary dog:

Calm down.

This couldn’t be resolved so recklessly. If someone had to block and cut things off, it’d be better if it came from the other side first.

Until one day—

Jiang Tian didn’t feel like going home for lunch and ate at the school cafeteria. His usual lunch buddies were both busy with extra assignments, so he sat alone by the window.

That’s when he noticed a familiar black schoolbag—the same style as his—hovering nearby and pacing back and forth.

Just as he finished eating and was about to get up, the person finally mustered the courage to approach him.

“Senior Jiang Tian, hello.”

Standing in front of him was a pale, slender underclassman. His face was red, and he didn’t even dare look up.

Jiang Tian had heard openings like this countless times and was already used to them. He still replied politely, “Hi. Is there something you need?”

The younger student blushed deeper and mumbled, “N-not anything important…”

“Senior, do you remember me?”

That kind of question usually meant the other person had confessed before. Jiang Tian had a pretty good memory and did find the junior vaguely familiar.

But to avoid giving him false hope, he still shook his head politely. “Sorry, I don’t remember.”

Sure enough, the junior’s eyes shimmered slightly, but he took a deep breath as if mustering a lot of courage: “It’s okay.”

“I just have one question, Senior. Back then, you rejected me and said you weren’t gay. But now the whole school is saying you’re bent. I just want to know—is it true?”

Jiang Tian froze. “…”

Before he could respond, the junior pulled out his phone, opened his photo gallery, and showed him a screenshot—his social media profile with a rainbow pride flag background.

Jiang Tian was surprised for half a second, but his headache worsened. He figured someone must have screenshotted his profile and spread it around, leading to this ridiculous misunderstanding. He really needed to change that background soon.

“Senior…”

The junior clutched his phone, stammering, “Straight guys almost never turn gay, so you must’ve been gay all along, right?”

But Jiang Tian fell into thought. After a moment, he asked in return, “Can I ask you something?”

The junior blinked. “Ah? Of course, please ask.”

Jiang Tian: “Do I look like I’m gay?”

“Y-yes.”

The junior’s voice trembled. He not only said Jiang Tian was a “top-tier 1” in the community, but also that people had long suspected he was a deep-closeted homo—just too perfect to admit his true sexuality.

“…”

Jiang Tian’s eyes darkened slightly. Then, without warning, he asked, “Why do you think I’m that type?”

The junior looked puzzled. “Huh?”

Jiang Tian sighed softly, then asked seriously, “What if I’m not the 1 you think I am?”

“Would you still have the guts to come flirt with me?”

The junior’s reaction was priceless: “?!!”

Wait… was that a hint that the legendary school heartthrob wasn’t a 1 at all… and maybe even shared the same position as him?!

His face was a canvas of wild expressions—shocked, speechless, struggling to form a sentence—but it told Jiang Tian everything he needed to know.

No longer cold or distant, Jiang Tian even gave the flustered junior a warm, gentle smile: “Thank you.”

“Maybe… what you like isn’t me, but the person you imagine me to be.”

“If someone doesn’t match your expectations, you hesitate—just like now.”

Though annoyed at having his lunch interrupted, the boy’s reaction gave Jiang Tian important insight.

He did have to run. That was no longer in doubt.

But he needed a reason convincing enough—something that even a CEO who kept calling himself “husband” couldn’t argue with.

In his mind, the little border collie dog transformed from a devil into a calming angel, guiding him confidently toward the highway of escape.

***

That night.

After returning home from evening classes, Jiang Tian locked the door and, like he was doing something shady, engaged in a secret transaction with Zhao Yuanhao.

Yuanhao:

Yuanhao: This was the only one I could find. Should be close to what you’re looking for.

KIRA: Thanks.

Yuanhao: Tian.

Yuanhao: You sure you want to use this move?

KIRA: Yeah.

Yuanhao: That’s brutal.

Yuanhao: thumbs up.jpg

KIRA: …

The video trade was already shady enough, but the next part of Jiang Tian’s plan… was straight-up morally corrupt for a model student like him.

He copied the video, then messaged the young CEO—who had likely just finished work.

KIRA: Ge.

KIRA: I want to watch a dirty video with you.

KIRA: Interested?

He wanted to make one thing clear: he was a top, and would always be a top.

If the other man insisted on being called “husband,” well—then they were simply not compatible.

Goodbye, next one please. Preferably more obedient.