Jiang Xun stared at his brother's cell phone screen.
That was… something.
"You call your nemesis 'little darling'?" he asked, pointing to the screen.
"Not me," Jiang Ying denied hastily. "It's the app's fault. I just downloaded it a while back, I haven't figured out all the features yet."
"You're really serious about stalking your nemesis and tracking his every move," Jiang Xun mused. It wasn't a question; he was already convinced that this was fact.
Jing Ying really took his feud with Gu Wei more seriously than his own career.
What would people think if they found out about this side of him?
"This is part of my job," Jiang Ying argued. "I have to be aware of my nemesis, I have to understand his condition at all times. That's how I get stronger, that's how I win the war."
Then his hand froze in midair, and his face took on a bizarre expression. One that seemed to be caught at the intersection between laughter and anger. If Jiang Xun had to describe it, he would call it a belligerent smile.
"Hm?" Jiang Xun asked. "What's that look for?"
What exactly had Gu Wei liked that made Jiang Ying lose control of his face?
It seemed to be a struggle for Jiang Ying to remember how to speak. He handed his phone back to Jiang Xun and finally asked, "Ge, did you do something to offend him recently?"
"Didn't I tell you he only looks nice?" Jiang Ying reminded. "But, in truth, he's rotten to the core."
"I'm sorry, I can't do it anymore, I can't hold it in—"
And with that, Jiang Ying started to laugh and laugh, and he just couldn't seem to stop.
"Ge—" He was practically wheezing, gasping out the words between breaths. "This really was your style back then, huh?"
Jiang Xun took the phone.
He unlocked the screen.
He looked down.
And what he saw rendered him speechless.
The app that sent the notifications had taken Jiang Ying over to Weibo, where Gu Wei had just liked a post. The content of the post didn't look especially familiar to Jiang Xun, but the Weibo blog itself was quite familiar. And the quite familiar name was—
That was his Weibo.
When he took a closer look, he identified the post Gu Wei had liked as one he'd sent when he was thirteen years old.
A ten-year-old post. From when Jiang Xun had been a middle school student. The post, previously, had had no likes, shares, or comments. And now, someone who wanted to play at being an archeologist had excavated the past and given the post a big, shiny like.
Now that long-buried past was suddenly seeing the light again.
It was a corpse, dug up and put on display for anyone to see.
It was the post—
@TMW-Xun: The lonely night, the lonely rain, the lonely search1… waiting for the lonely you. [smokingcigarette.jpg]
1. The word for search, 寻, is the same 寻 as the one in Jiang Xun's name (江寻), so this part says 'the lonely search' as well as 'the lonely Xun'.