After the Secrets of the Passerby Were Leaked, He Was Cherished by the Entire Family of Antagonists-Chapter 111

*“Failed to send. The other party is not your friend.”*

The smile froze on Song Zhehan’s face.

The WeChat conversation thread, with only an automated greeting and a single money transfer message, now displayed a bright red exclamation mark.

Just then, Li Siyuan peeked over his shoulder, spotting the message. He burst into laughter. “Yo! Blocked already, huh?”

His voice was loud enough that everyone around them, who hadn’t left the mountain yet, turned to look.

Zhou Zijian was the first to ask, “Who blocked you?”

“Could it be Zhang?” Wen Xiangyue chimed in.

Liu Yan, shocked, added, “Didn’t you just add each other yesterday?”

Li Siyuan, thoroughly amused, laughed even harder.

Song Zhehan glanced at them coldly, and they quickly turned their heads away.

Clearing her throat, Liu Yan excused herself. “Time’s up. I’m heading down. See you all next time!”

This content is taken from freёnovelkiss.com.

Zhou Zijian and Wen Xiangyue followed suit, “We’re leaving too. Until next time!”

Only Li Siyuan dared to continue laughing, unafraid of Song Zhehan’s “murderous” glare. He joked, “Don’t worry, it’s just a block. You can always add him back later.”

Ignoring Li Siyuan, Song Zhehan turned and left.

That afternoon, he had a magazine shoot to attend, and by the time the day’s work ended, it was well past midnight.

Despite the long day, Song Zhehan’s private WeChat remained quiet, save for a few messages from his mother. From the moment he realized Zhang Qiran had blocked him, Song Zhehan had immediately sent another friend request.

But all day long, Zhang hadn’t accepted.

In the van, his manager sat beside him, discussing his schedule for the next few days. Song Zhehan leaned back in his seat, eyes closed, seemingly not paying attention.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes.

His manager assumed there was a problem with the schedule. “What’s wrong? If you don’t like working with this artist—”

But then she noticed Song Zhehan was scrolling through his phone, pulling up Weibo.

Completely confused, the manager watched as he typed in Zhang Qiran’s name. A moment later, Zhang’s account popped up.

Song Zhehan had never followed Zhang Qiran on Weibo, even though they had collaborated before. However, Zhang had always followed him.

With a swift tap, Song Zhehan followed him back.

The manager opened her mouth to say something but held back.

Then, Song Zhehan quickly navigated to Zhang’s supertopic page, posted a message, and uploaded a photo.

“What are you doing?” the manager finally asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

Song Zhehan ignored the notifications popping up on his phone, smiling slightly. “Apologizing. Can’t you tell?”

The manager was speechless.

She wanted to tell him he was out of his mind but held her tongue. After thinking it over, she merely said, “Be careful. Zhang’s a sensitive person. Don’t push him too hard.”

This surprised Song Zhehan. “I thought you’d call me out for being reckless.”

“You *are* being reckless,” she sighed.

But in the end, it was Song Zhehan’s personal business, and there was nothing the manager could do. If anything, she found some solace in the fact that this stunt would undoubtedly skyrocket their social media engagement.

Just the other night, Zhang Qiran had publicly confessed his feelings to Song Zhehan, and now this—Song replying in Zhang’s supertopic! The gossip accounts and curious netizens were probably having a field day with it.

This would be a major talking point.

At least there was that.

The manager let out another sigh and warned him one last time, “Just take it easy.”

Song Zhehan nodded, still smiling as he put away his phone.

The entire drive home, notifications continued to pour in, but he didn’t bother checking them.

By the time he got home, it was already 2 a.m. After showering, Song Zhehan finally opened his phone.

As expected, most of the notifications were from Weibo, but he wasn’t interested. Instead, he went straight to WeChat.

Still, Zhang hadn’t accepted his friend request.

However, his mother had sent him another message, which he quickly replied to. Then, turning his phone’s volume to the maximum, he went to bed.

He was exhausted, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell into a deep sleep.

Some time later, a loud phone ring shattered the night’s silence, waking him immediately.

Normally, Song Zhehan hated being woken up by phone calls, but this time, there was no hint of annoyance. In fact, a faint smile lingered in his half-asleep eyes.

Without checking who was calling, he picked up the phone.

On the other end, Zhang Qiran’s angry voice came through. “Song Zhehan! What’s wrong with you? Are you insane? Why did you post in my supertopic? And what the heck did you mean by—”

“Zhang Qiran?” Song Zhehan mumbled, still groggy.

The rant abruptly stopped. A hesitant voice asked, “Are… are you sleeping?”

Song Zhehan’s smile widened. Got him.

The remaining traces of sleep faded as he opened his eyes, his voice still low and hoarse, “Mm… what’s up?”

There was silence on the other end for a while. Then Zhang spoke again, this time much softer. “I… I just wanted to ask… why did you post in my supertopic? I didn’t know you were sleeping…”

Song Zhehan chuckled, turning on the bedside lamp to check the time. “It’s four in the morning, Zhang Qiran.”

“…Oh,” came the quiet reply.

“Well, I’ll… I’ll let you get back to sleep then.”

“Wait,” Song Zhehan interrupted. “Why did you block me?”

There was a long pause before Zhang responded. “…It’s really late…”

“Then unblock me, and we can talk about it tomorrow,” Song Zhehan suggested kindly.

Zhang opened his mouth, but no words came out. He hung up.

Under the dim light, Song Zhehan’s face showed no sign of sleepiness.

Switching to a smaller Weibo account, he checked his post from earlier and found that it had already racked up over 200,000 comments.

He scrolled through them briefly, noting that most of them read:

**“Zhang Qiran, what do you think of this?”**

Zhang himself had logged in just twenty minutes ago.

Could he have been too shy to ask for his contact details?

Or maybe…

Smirking, Song Zhehan opened WeChat. Sure enough, Zhang Qiran had already accepted his friend request. There were 99+ unread messages and 10+ missed calls.

No wonder Zhang had unblocked him so quickly.

His WeChat messages from Zhang were a flurry of questions—why had he posted that Weibo message? Why had he been blocked? Could he delete the post?

Somehow, in the middle of all that, Zhang had also started asking about Goushi (Song Zhehan’s dog), even wondering if he should buy treats for him.

Chuckling, Song Zhehan added a new nickname for Zhang in his phone: “Little Xiangyang.”

Then, logging back into his main Weibo account, he deleted the earlier post and replaced it with a nine-photo grid of G

oushi.

He then sent a WeChat message to Zhang: *“Do you want to come see Goushi?”*

The response was almost instant: *“Right now?”*

*“Do you know what time it is?”* Song replied, amused.

*“When do you have time?”*

This time, Zhang took a while to answer: *“How about the day after tomorrow?”*

Almost immediately, more messages followed, apologizing and explaining that his schedule was packed the next day with filming. Zhang also asked about Goushi’s health and offered to bring some snacks for him.

Finally, Song Zhehan’s expression softened. *“Send me your address. I’ll pick you up,”* he typed.

A moment later, Zhang sent his location.

Satisfied, Song put his phone on silent and went back to sleep.

Meanwhile, across the city, Zhang Qiran was wide awake, tossing and turning in his bed. **What on earth is Song Zhehan up to?!**

Zhang, like Song, was in the middle of a career surge. No matter how embarrassing things had gotten between them, he still had to show up for work. The entire day was spent on set, but the moment he finished his last scene, his manager rushed over to tell him about Song Zhehan’s post in his supertopic.

It took a while for Zhang to process what he was hearing, and when he finally did, he raised his voice. “What? Who posted in whose supertopic?!”

The manager shushed him quickly. “Lower your voice. It was *your* supertopic…”

Zhang Qiran froze.

Everyone on set already knew what had happened, and many were eavesdropping, eager to catch the juicy details.

Fuming, Zhang stormed back to his dressing room. After logging into Weibo, his inbox was flooded with messages from both fans and colleagues.

*They’re all waiting to see the drama unfold!*

Frustrated, Zhang started typing out an angry message to Song Zhehan, only to remember that he’d blocked him. So, he hurriedly unblocked him and accepted the friend request, unleashing a torrent of complaints.

As the messages piled up, Zhang began to calm down.

Wait…

Did Song Zhehan just apologize? Was that what the Weibo post meant?

Thinking back to their moment in the cable car, when their hands were intertwined, Zhang felt his face heat up again.

By the time he arrived back at the hotel, his mind was racing. He couldn’t stop thinking about the photo of Goushi that Song had posted. He even went through his phone, browsing through the countless pictures he’d saved of Song’s dog.

Despite being overwhelmed, Zhang couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement.

As he prepared for bed, his manager interrupted. “So, you’re not going to address this on Weibo?”

Zhang’s eyes widened. “I almost forgot!”

His manager rolled her eyes.

*Seriously, is he only thinking about his crush?*

Zhang quickly dialed Song’s WeChat number, but after ten unanswered calls, he grew more anxious. **Is Song ignoring him on purpose?**

In the silence that followed, Zhang’s mind raced. Had Song posted in his supertopic just to tease him?

But if Song truly hated him, why would he have been so patient? Why had he gone through the trouble of adding him on WeChat and sending that ridiculous money transfer?

The more Zhang thought about it, the more confused he became.

Sighing, his manager handed him Song’s private number. “Here, just talk to him directly. It’s late. I’m going to bed.”

Left alone, Zhang hesitated for a moment before dialing.

To his surprise, Song picked up immediately.

Flustered, Zhang launched into his tirade, only to realize mid-rant that Song had been asleep.

Guilt washed over him as he pieced things together—Song hadn’t been ignoring him after all. He had probably been sleeping the whole time.

Feeling embarrassed, Zhang’s lips curved into an unconscious smile.

Somehow, amid the confusion, he found himself agreeing to meet Song in two days.

It wasn’t until their conversation ended that Zhang realized what had just happened. **Wait, wasn’t I supposed to be angry at him? How did I end up agreeing to see him again? And what about the Weibo post?**

Clutching his phone, Zhang fell back onto the bed, his thoughts a mess. But despite the chaos, he couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face.

**He’s impossible.**

When the day of their meeting arrived, Zhang woke up early, only to find that Song Zhehan had already beaten him to it. Despite his nerves, Zhang made his way downstairs.

To his surprise, Goushi wasn’t there. Instead, Song was casually leaning against his car, dressed in a simple but stylish outfit.

“Where’s—”

“It’s too hot for Goushi. He’s resting at home,” Song explained, as if reading Zhang’s mind. “Come on, let’s go to my place.”

With no excuse to back out, Zhang reluctantly climbed into the car.

It wasn’t long before Zhang realized they weren’t heading in the direction of Song’s apartment.

At a red light, Song glanced over, noticing Zhang’s confused expression. He smiled, clearly amused. “What? You know the way to my apartment?”

Zhang’s face flushed deep red. “I… I didn’t mean…”

Song remained silent, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched Zhang stumble over his words.

The rest of the ride was filled with awkward silence. Zhang’s face stayed red the entire time.

When they finally arrived, Song parked in the garage and looked over at Zhang. “We’re here.”

Zhang, still flustered, avoided eye contact, fumbling with his phone as he moved to get out.

But before he could escape, a strong hand caught his arm.

Startled, Zhang turned back. “What are you—”

“Running away again?” Song asked, his voice low. At some point, he had unbuckled his seatbelt and pressed a button, locking the car doors.

Zhang’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

Song chuckled. “What am I doing? Didn’t you say you wanted to see Goushi? We’re here now, and you don’t want to go inside?”

Zhang’s lips tightened.

**See Goushi? How could he focus on that now? He had already embarrassed himself enough for one day.**

Zhang’s face flushed even deeper, and he wished the ground would swallow him whole.

Song, on the other hand, was far too familiar with Zhang’s mannerisms, even after all these years. He gently turned Zhang’s face toward him and spoke softly, “Why are you so shy? Didn’t you confess to me in front of all those people?”

At the mention of the confession, Zhang immediately exploded. “Song Zhehan!”

Before he could say anything more, his vision went dark. Soft lips brushed against his, and the faint scent of Song’s cologne filled the air.

For a moment, their breaths mingled, hearts pounding in unison.

Song’s voice, laced with amusement, whispered in Zhang’s ear, “Xiangyang, after nine years, you’re still just as clueless.”

Zhang blinked up at him, flustered. “I’m not clueless.”

Song laughed quietly. “Sure. You’re not clueless—you’re just slow.”

Zhang’s ears and neck turned bright red as he turned away. “I’m not slow either.”

“If that’s true, then why did you delete me from your WeChat?” Song teased, unwilling to let it go.

Zhang’s face was now so red it almost matched his tear-filled eyes. “I… I…”

For a long moment, Zhang struggled to find the words, but nothing came out.

Song gazed at him quietly. At some point, Zhang’s long lashes had started fluttering, and tears began to well up in his eyes.

Song’s heart softened.

Since the moment he realized Zhang was Xiangyang, he had wanted to say this.

Reaching out, Song gently wiped the corner of Zhang’s eyes.

Nine years ago, there had been a small, black teardrop-shaped mole there.

“Zhang Qiran,” Song began softly, his tone serious. “If you’re not clueless or slow, then you should already understand what I mean.”

Zhang blinked, tears spilling down his cheeks as he finally turned to face Song. His voice trembled as he stammered, “I… I don’t understand. Nine years ago, and even now, you’ve never told me clearly…”

His voice broke, unable to continue.

Song felt his heart swell, as if Zhang’s tears were filling the long-empty space inside him.

“Look at me,” Song murmured, turning Zhang’s face toward him again.

Gazing into Zhang’s tear-filled eyes, Song spoke each word carefully, with utmost sincerity.

“I’ll only say this once, Zhang Qiran. If you don’t get it now, I won’t say it again.”

Zhang nodded, eyes wide.

Song’s thumb gently brushed against his chin as he locked eyes with him, his voice steady and earnest. “I like you too, Zhang Qiran.”