A STAND-IN OR DESTINY?

In the sterile coldness of the lab, amidst the familiar smell of chemicals, my junior, Gu Ziqian, crept up to me conspiratorially.

“Senior, I have an ‘activity’ that pays 20,000 VND (approx. $800). Are you in?”

I eyed the handsome, yet anxious-looking, student with suspicion.

“It’s not some scam tricking people into Myanmar to harvest organs, is it?”

Gu Ziqian shook his head vigorously, a look of desperation in his eyes. “No, the location is my house. I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend and come home with me this weekend to deal with my parents.”

He explained that his family was relentlessly pressuring him to find a girlfriend, setting him up with endless blind dates. Ziqian already had a girl he secretly liked, waiting for her to return from studying abroad, but his mother’s nagging had forced him into this “last resort.”

Seeing his sincere plea, I patted my chest resolutely: “I’ll help you with this!”

My name is Xu Ran, and 20,000 VND was a substantial amount for a final-year student. What I didn’t know was that this decision would pull me back into the orbit of a man I thought I had lost contact with forever.

That weekend, I put on a little black dress and heavy makeup, waiting for Ziqian downstairs. On the way, we meticulously rehearsed our “alibis.” I was Ran Ran, he was Ziqian. We fell for each other in the lab, he pursued me for a month, and we had been officially dating for two months. He was a Gemini, I was a Leo. He liked seafood, I liked tomatoes and beef. Every minute detail was memorized, creating a picture-perfect romance.

The car stopped at the gate. As the iron door slowly opened, it revealed a luxurious villa in the city center, surrounded by a sprawling garden.

“Young master, do you really have to go to school and work?” I couldn’t help but exclaim.

Ziqian chuckled: “I’m not a young master. Everything was earned by my older brother after he started working. He’s super capable, my idol. He’s only 27 but has already achieved financial freedom, with assets over a hundred million.”

I sighed internally, thinking how comparisons truly breed resentment. Then Ziqian added a surprising detail: “He’s not my biological brother. My family is a blended one. When I was 16, my mom remarried Uncle Song, and my brother is his son. Oh, by the way, my brother is the boss of the J Company.”

As we walked in, a kind-looking woman, Aunt Gu, rushed to greet us, holding my hand and complimenting my beauty. Just inside the door, a massive Golden Retriever, with a coat as soft as velvet, rushed out. It wagged its tail, rubbed against my legs, and nestled affectionately in my lap.

“That’s incredible,” Ziqian said, stunned. “My brother adopted this dog in high school. It’s usually very cold and only listens to him. It even growls at me when I come home, I never thought it would like you so much.”

I stroked the dog’s head, feeling a pang of nostalgia. “I guess I just have a way with small animals. I also adopted a tiny Golden puppy in high school, much smaller than this one, sickly and so small…” I recounted the old story about having to give the puppy to a high school friend because my mother was severely allergic, and how we lost touch after graduation.

“By the way, what’s his name?”

“Song Muhu.”

The name “Song Muhu” made me pause. A proper, full name for a dog.

At lunchtime, I asked Ziqian, “Aren’t we waiting for your brother?” He replied: “No need, he’s too busy, he usually eats at the company.”

Just then, the door opened. Song Muhu, who was resting calmly at my feet, suddenly got excited. It took a few steps toward the door, as if to greet someone, but then hesitated, turned back, and lay down beside me again, letting out a small, tired “woof” as a form of welcome.

“Brother, you’re back!”

“Why are you home so early today?” Uncle Song asked.

“I came back to grab some documents, then I’m leaving. I have a meeting this afternoon.”

The deep, cold voice struck a chord, making my heart skip a beat.

In the next moment, the man and I came into each other’s view.

Song Ye!

My high school “study god.” The person I once secretly admired, who helped me a lot with my schoolwork, but whom I had completely lost contact with. His features were almost unchanged—the same distant coldness between his eyebrows and in his exquisite eyes—but he looked thinner and more solid now, wearing a dark suit that radiated an elite, sophisticated aura.

I froze. Song Ye was the boss of J Company, the almighty older brother of Gu Ziqian.

Song Ye’s pupils contracted slightly, almost imperceptibly, before quickly regaining their composure.

“This is…” he began, his voice hoarse.

Before I could speak, Uncle Song introduced: “Right, let me introduce you. This is Ziqian’s girlfriend. Xu Ran: Ran Ran, this is Ziqian’s brother: Song Ye.”

“Ziqian’s girlfriend.” Song Ye repeated, his voice choked. He said nothing more, turned, and walked upstairs.

The atmosphere at the dinner table was tense. Song Ye sat down to my left. His eyes occasionally darted over, falling on me, and then on the food Ziqian was picking up for me.

Then he spoke, his voice cool: “She doesn’t eat celery. Don’t pick that up for her.”

Everyone was stunned. Ziqian looked confused: “Huh? How do you know Ran Ran doesn’t eat celery?”

Song Ye answered calmly, his eyes steady: “I saw she wasn’t touching that dish, so I guessed.”

But I knew. In high school, I always picked all the celery out of my plate and put it on his. Was he truly unaware of who I was, or was he just pretending?

The tension escalated when Uncle Song brought up Song Ye’s age and single status, criticizing him for refusing to meet Aunt Li’s daughter who had returned from studying abroad. Aunt Gu tried to smooth things over: “Doesn’t Xiao Ye have a girl he secretly likes? He always has a plan.”

“His plan,” Uncle Song scoffed. “I haven’t even seen a shadow of that girl yet. If he waits any longer, she’ll belong to someone else.”

Song Ye’s face darkened further.

To ease the mood, Ziqian suggested opening a bottle of wine. Song Ye stood up, his voice low: “I’ll get the wine.”

When he left, Ziqian confided in me: “My brother has a girl he’s been secretly loving for years. His room drawer is full of her photos. He hides them well. I only once saw a picture of her back, squatting to feed a dog, as his phone wallpaper. He’s been using that wallpaper for years.”

I felt a twinge of jealousy. So, even Song Ye, a man of such caliber, was susceptible to unrequited love, silently following someone for years.

Song Ye came back with a bottle of white wine, pouring drinks for himself and Ziqian continuously. The white wine was quickly finished. Seeing Ziqian about to collapse, I grabbed his glass: “I’ll drink this one for him.”

Song Ye quietly replied: “Alright.”

I drained the glass. Song Ye staggered to his feet, but his eyes were sober, his eyelids red from the alcohol. He looked at me, his voice despairing: “Gu Ziqian, congratulations indeed.”

Later, Ziqian left for France for an exchange program to pursue his crush. I had no further contact with Song Ye. My courage evaporated in his presence; the messages I wanted to send were typed and deleted countless times.

One night, my roommate dragged me to a bar to vent. After a few drinks, I was drunk, clutching my roommate and sobbing: “Why doesn’t he like me? Why does he like someone else and not me? What’s wrong with me?”

Just then, my roommate pointed to a corner: “Look, there’s a handsome guy over there.”

A man sat alone at the bar, drinking. It was Song Ye.

My roommate gave me a hard shove. I stumbled and fell right into his arms.

“Xu Ran, what game are you playing now?” Song Ye’s voice was cold, his hands retreated from my shoulders.

I decided to risk it all, wrapping my arms around his waist: “I like you.”

Waiting in the silence, I looked up at Song Ye. He frowned, his voice trembling: “Look closely, I’m not Gu Ziqian. Xu Ran, what do you take me for? His stand-in?”

“No, I’m not playing games with you, I’m serious.”

“Xu Ran, you’re drunk.”

My voice caught in my throat: “I’m sorry, I bothered you.” Just as I tried to get up and leave, Song Ye pulled me back into his embrace. This time, I was sitting directly on his lap. His large hand wrapped around my waist, holding me tightly.

His eyes red, the man spoke hoarsely, full of compromise: “A stand-in, then. I don’t need a title anymore.”

Then a deep kiss sealed the moment.

Waking up, I was in an unfamiliar apartment. I vaguely remembered the scene from last night, Song Ye kissing me, and his drunken, indiscernible words. My phone rang; it was Ziqian.

“Senior, Ningning and I are officially together! She accepted my proposal last night.”

I was happy for him, but my own situation felt complicated when Song Ye entered the room.

“You’re too busy looking at other people’s photos to hear anything else,” he said, taking my phone and sitting beside me. “Perhaps you don’t know Ziqian has liked Jing Ning for many years. They were high school classmates, and he has been waiting for her to come back. Even though I am his brother, I shouldn’t hide this from you.”

“I know,” I interrupted. “Ziqian even used a drawing of Jing Ning as his WeChat profile picture.”

Song Ye looked at me with disbelief, his voice choking: “So even knowing that, you accepted his behavior? Pretended to be his girlfriend, and yet… you like me?”

“Why not? Who he loves has nothing to do with me. What is there for me not to accept?”

Before I could finish, Song Ye pushed me onto the bed. His kisses were intense, carrying a hint of resentment, and they burned. His eyes were red, he pinned my wrists above my head.

“Why? Why him and not me? What am I lacking compared to him? Why won’t you look at me just once?”

Tears fell onto my face. Song Ye’s voice was a desperate, humble plea I had never heard before.

“Ran Ran, what is it about Gu Ziqian that you like? Can I learn? Can you share just a little bit of that affection with me? Just a little, that’s enough.”

Without waiting for my answer, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close, and kissed me again. After a long, deep kiss, he released me, stumbling to his feet to adjust his wrinkled shirt.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have forced you. You should go. Let’s pretend those words and events from last night never happened, but I want to remind you of one thing. Gu Ziqian is not the right person for you.” He turned his back to me, hiding his face, and left the room.

With this reaction from Song Ye, I knew: he liked me!

Just then, the door opened. Song Muhu trotted in, wagging its tail, its face cheerful. I smiled and waved it over.

“Song Muhu, did your dad bring you when he moved? Tell me, is the person your dad likes me? Was he jealous? Does he like me?”

I paused, looking at him intently. The image of the little Golden puppy from my memory perfectly matched the large dog in front of me. Song Muhu. And the character Hứa (Xu) in its name was the same as the Hứa (Xu) in Xu Ran.

Song Muhu seemed to understand my gaze, raising its head and letting out a responding “woof.”

This was the small dog I had entrusted to Song Ye years ago.

I burst out laughing, then stood up. “Come on, lead me to the photos your dad is hiding.”

Song Muhu led me straight to a desk drawer. It was locked. The dog barked and deliberately stuck out its neck for me to see. Glinting on its collar was a small object: the drawer key. Perhaps he often looked at the photos with the dog.

Opening the drawer, I was stunned. It was full of my photos. Candid shots from high school, photos from college—many I didn’t even know he had taken. He had been watching over me for nine years.

My eyes welled up. Why didn’t he say anything? Why did he pretend not to know me when we met again?

Song Ye, you big fool! You’ve been secretly loving me for a decade, and so have I. But now, it’s time we stopped being stand-ins or secret admirers.

Holding the key, I resolved to go find Song Ye.