No one can stay eighteen forever,
unless his man is named Song Guiyan.
Song Guiyan's lover, Qin Lian, has a memory that only lasts a week.
Every week, he wakes up still eighteen years old.
He forgets that he's married, and he forgets who Song Guiyan is.
But Song Guiyan remembers.
And because he remembers everything so clearly, he starts to lose his mind.
One carefree morning after the college entrance exams, Qin Lian wakes up in a strange, luxurious round bed.
Before he can piece together the missing parts of the previous night, a long, pale hand emerges from the rumpled sheets and comes to rest right on his most vulnerable spot.
"How many times have we done it? And you're still raring to go?"
Qin Lian bolts upright, nearly leaping out the window. "Y-you, who are you?"
The curtains billow. The face resting on the pillow turns toward him. In the shifting light, the hand that had just gotten handsy lazily covers half the man's face.
The glint from the ring on his left ring finger nearly blinds Qin Lian.
A married man?
No, a married man married to a man?
Qin Lian, who had only just come of age, feels like his whole world has collapsed.
Keeping a respectful distance, the two piece together the mess of last night: the same old story, drunk driving!
The man's name is Song Guiyan, and he's married.
Just as Qin Lian is sinking into a spiral of moral condemnation, the man tells him a long, equally cliched story about an unhappy marriage.
His husband is not only an alcoholic and a gambling addict, but also abuses him.
Looking at that refined, fragile face, with its mature, married-man charm, Qin Lian is instantly filled with both heartache and fury.
That scumbag!!!
"Divorce him. I'll help you."
Song Guiyan leaves the hotel a little later. After taking the private elevator for VIPs down to the parking garage, he sends Qin Lian a message.
"I paid the 8,800-yuan hotel bill with my credit card yesterday. I'm so afraid he'll find out. Xiao Qin, if he knew I'd gone to a hotel with another man, he'd really beat me to death."
Then he switches to a group chat: If Qin Lian asks you to lend him money, chip in to get him 5,000 yuan.
After putting down his phone, Song Guiyan rubs his aching back and mutters, "That brat's insatiable, like a hungry wolf."
Qin Lian gets the message and shakes down every friend and classmate he can find. Even after adding all the money in his own pockets, he still can't scrape together 6,000 yuan. He keeps only enough for lunch and transfers the rest to Song Guiyan.
That afternoon, Qin Lian starts working two jobs.
He also takes on a side gig helping with a divorce case, and messages with Song Guiyan keep coming.
Song Guiyan: Xiao Qin, he secretly took some intimate photos of me when I wasn't paying attention and threatened to post them online if I ever brought up divorce again.
Qin Lian: What kind of intimate photos?
Song Guiyan: Nude.jpg. Nude.jpg. Nude.jpg. Nude.jpg...
Qin Lian instantly flushes red: Don't send... photos like that around anymore.
Qin Lian has no idea which week this is.
Nor does he know where he'll wake up the following week.
He's trapped in an unwinnable, infinite-loop romance game, but he doesn't realize it.
The better Song Guiyan acts, the more real it all feels.
The one thing that never changes is that Qin Lian falls in love with him every week.
Reading guide:
[The story changes every week. The blurb describes the first week's scenario: becoming the other man.]
An eternally eighteen-year-old, goofy, edgy, lovestruck gong × a sickly possessive, weekly-reset movie star shou
Gong's perspective | Ten-year age gap, younger gong | Devoted and sweet | Both are each other's first and only
Theme: Memory is not the only vessel for love
