The Ex's Tears Are So Hot - Chapter 35

By the time night fell, the group finally returned to Guan Jinnian’s home.

Guan’s mother had saved dinner for them. Once it was reheated, she asked Guan Jinnian to entertain the guests while she went to prepare the guest room.

Xie Zhixin had only visited once before, back when he was just a guest. Now, even though technically still a guest, he was acting more like someone who belonged.

He jumped in without being asked—helping Guan’s mom, serving tea to Xiao He and the crew, even setting the table like he owned the place.

It was clear who was running the show.

The livestream viewers were taken aback—but amused.

What made it even more ridiculous was that Guan Jinnian didn’t stop him. He followed behind, clearly resigned to the whole thing, with an exasperated look—but that little smile on his lips gave him away.

“Hey, bro, bro!” Xiao He stopped Xie Zhixin as he tried to serve him soup. “I got it, really!”

“Alright then,” Xie Zhixin relented, setting the pot down with a grin. “But make sure you eat a lot—Auntie’s cooking is incredible.”

Then Xiao He, speaking for everyone watching, finally asked the question that had been on everyone’s mind:

“Bro… do you come to Teacher Guan’s place a lot?”

Before Xie Zhixin could answer, Guan Jinnian laughed and exposed him: “Nope. He’s only been here once before.”

Xie Zhixin, utterly unfazed, replied with satisfaction: “Well, I’ve already met the parents.”

Xiao He choked hard on his soup.

【…】
【Honestly, I’m not even surprised anymore.】
【Zhixin really makes shamelessness look romantic.】
【This man walked into that house once and memorized the floor plan. Future husband behavior.】
【Isn’t this from that red-eye flight paparazzi caught him on? He really went to see the family? Wild.】

They all sat down to eat. Guan’s mother, now done preparing the guest room, joined them at the table.

As Guan Jinnian ladled a bowl of soup for her, she beamed with pride: “We’ve been getting so many persimmon cake orders lately—my son is incredible!”

Guan Jinnian paused, then offered a polite smile to the camera. “Thanks, everyone, for the support.”

His mother continued, clearly pleased: “Your uncles are always talking about you. ‘Our Jinnian’s a celebrity now!’ they say. You just search online and there he is! Even our cakes are getting free advertising thanks to you!”

Jinnian quietly stirred his rice with his chopsticks, expression unreadable.

Then his mom added, “Oh right—if you can show me how to check the online orders backstage, I have no idea how that works, or—”

“Mom—” Jinnian cut her off gently. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow. It’s late. You should rest.”

His mother blinked, caught off guard, but quickly nodded with an awkward smile. “Alright, alright. You kids eat slowly.”

After she left, Jinnian fell silent. He kept eating, mechanically, expression flat and distant.

Xie Zhixin noticed the change immediately. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but it was clear Jinnian was upset.

He leaned closer and gently placed a piece of pork rib in Jinnian’s bowl. “Our mom made these. You should eat more.”

Guan Jinnian glanced at the meat, then at him, raising an eyebrow. “Our mom?”

“Hey, it’s only a matter of time,” Zhixin said with a grin, nudging his shoulder.

“You’re already planning married life? We haven’t even made up yet.”

Xie Zhixin dramatically clutched his chest and pouted, “So you don’t want to marry me?”

“Who said that?” Guan Jinnian shot back—but his lips twitched into a faint smile. The stormy mood from earlier had begun to lift.

At first, the viewers didn’t understand what had caused the shift in mood. After all, wasn’t Jinnian’s mom just praising him?

【Wait… wasn’t she complimenting him? Why did he get so cold?】
【Bro, your mom’s proud of you—look at her!】

Then a few more perceptive viewers started connecting the dots:

【Actually… she didn’t ask if he was tired or had eaten. All she did was talk about orders and sales.】
【Oh. Damn. You’re right… I didn’t catch that at first. That’s rough.】
【And where’s his dad? We’ve never seen him.】

But that line of thought quickly got drowned out in the scrolling comments.

After dinner, Guan Jinnian and Xie Zhixin helped clean up. With permission, the camera crew started wandering, capturing parts of the house.

On the living room wall were a number of certificates and old childhood photos. One close-up showed a young Guan Jinnian, around eight years old, holding a trophy bigger than his head, cheeks flushed with pride.

【OMG who is this cutie?? I need to adopt him.】
【Why does tiny Jinnian still look so serious and composed?】
【I want to steal that child and raise him myself.】

The audience begged for more childhood photos, and the cameraman passed along the request.

“Photos of me as a kid?” Jinnian hesitated.

Before he could say yes or no, Xie Zhixin’s eyes lit up. “I want to see too!”

Resigned, Jinnian fetched the family photo album.

As he flipped through the pages, Zhixin leaned in so close he nearly blocked the camera.

The album was packed—pictures from infancy all the way to high school.

But slowly, viewers started noticing something missing.

【Hey… where’s his dad?】
【Oh my god, there are no photos of his father.】
【Could it be… divorce? Or something worse?】

Xiao He, always the one to say what everyone was thinking, casually asked: “Teacher Guan, how come we don’t see your dad in any of the photos?”

The moment the question left his mouth, the room fell silent.

Xie Zhixin immediately closed the album and gave Jinnian a concerned look.

Jinnian noticed and forced a small smile. “It’s fine.”

“My dad passed away when I was very young,” he told them. “I don’t even remember him.”

Xiao He immediately apologized, flustered. “I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”

“It’s alright,” Jinnian replied, calmly. “It was a long time ago.”

【Ah, so that’s why…】
【No wonder. My heart hurts a little now.】
【That poor assistant’s going to wake up tonight and slap himself for asking.】

Wanting to move on, Jinnian smiled and said, “It’s late. You should all rest. Thanks for your hard work today.”

There weren’t enough rooms for everyone, so to make space for the others, Xie Zhixin would be sharing a room with Guan Jinnian.

Of course, that was exactly what he wanted.

But once he came out of the shower and lay in bed, any playful flirting vanished from his mind.

Something had shifted in him tonight. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he saw.

Jinnian had smiled all evening, like always—but there was a weight behind it, something deeper, heavier.

Zhixin wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to begin.

Meanwhile, Jinnian, expecting him to get handsy like always, noticed the stillness and finally asked: “What’s going on with you?”

Zhixin hesitated, then spoke the truth.

“I feel kind of… guilty.”

That caught Jinnian off guard. He sat up, turning to look at him.

“Why guilty?”

Zhixin looked down, voice soft. “Tonight, I finally understood why you broke up with me back then.”

Jinnian blinked. The topic shift surprised him.

“Your mom… does she put a lot of pressure on you?” Zhixin continued gently. “And then being in a relationship just added more? Like… it felt like one more thing you had to manage?”

“You’ve always been the one accommodating others. Taking care of everyone. That must be exhausting.”

Jinnian didn’t say anything. Every instinct told him to deny it—but the words caught in his throat.

Because Zhixin was right.

He had been under pressure for years.

Ever since his father passed, his mother had placed all her hopes and emotions on his shoulders. He never complained—but the weight never left.

And when he started dating Zhixin, it was beautiful for a while. But the pressure came back, heavier than ever. And he began shutting down—emotionally exhausted, drained, unable to give Zhixin what he needed.

He hadn’t fully realized this himself—until now.

“I…”

Jinnian opened his mouth, wanting to talk, to explain—but no words came. His chest felt tight. His heart ached.

Zhixin gently reached out, taking his hand.

“I’m so lucky,” he said quietly, “to have figured this out before it was too late.”

“I still have time to fix things, to become someone who deserves you.”

Jinnian met his gaze. In the dim light, Zhixin’s eyes were bright, sincere.

In them, Jinnian saw himself—confused, overwhelmed, and crying.

“I see now what went wrong,” Zhixin said softly. “Let me love you properly this time. Just give me a little time, okay?”

He leaned in and kissed the corner of Jinnian’s eye.

“Don’t cry, Jinnian. Don’t cry, baby.”