My hands are stiff and I can't untie it, please help me.

"I'm wearing a three-piece suit today... uh, I'm unbuttoning it. Yeah, I just got home, my hands are frozen and I can't unbutton it... could you... help me... thank you... and my tie... belt... phew... phew..."

Jonathan was waiting in his lounge at the TANG building for the "Weibo" app to finish downloading when he drifted off into thought, remembering the phone call Jiang Songhe made on the night of the 2nd.

The two had just had a fight on the night of the 1st. After returning to the apartment from the party, Jonathan learned from Wu Fangsi why Jiang Songhe didn't want Jiang Songyun to look at his phone and go online. It was indeed quite serious. He heard from Wu Fangsi that there was more to the story, so he asked her to help clarify.

He had a similar experience when he first debuted, so he knew that no amount of third-party support was as effective as the artist personally stepping forward to express his stance. After much consideration, he opened WhatsApp and sent a message to Kang Song-yoon.

Having laid enough groundwork, he felt that Jiang Songyun was mentally prepared, and he didn't blame Jiang Songhe. At the end of the conversation, he finally got to the point, letting Jiang Songyun digest the information for a moment before sharing his experience.

Even though he knew that Jiang Songhe's "never mind" meant she didn't want him to meddle, he still did it anyway.

Drinking really does lead to trouble. If he hadn't been drinking, perhaps he wouldn't have lost his temper and argued with Jiang Songhe. If they hadn't argued, he would have been able to keenly detect the signs of dependence, communicate and comfort her maturely, and offer help in a stylish way...

Instead of having to do good deeds anonymously, thus wasting the opportunity to win hearts and minds and receive rewards.

He'd spent the entire night with his eyes wide open, and both Jiang Songyun and Wu Fangsi had reported good news, but the voice he most wanted to hear remained silent. Of course, since he hadn't intended for that stubborn blockhead to know, what was he still anxiously anticipating?

Number 2 still had to record with the star contestants, relying on coffee to keep going all day. After work, he was sent back to his apartment by Vasin. Jonathan glanced at the time on his phone screen: Manr 19:00, Jingting 2:00. Knowing that the crisis was over, there shouldn't be any more phone calls today.

Still feeling a bit disappointed, Jonathan casually tossed his phone aside, dejectedly crawled into the shadows of the sofa, and curled up to force himself to sleep.

His body was extremely tired, but his nerves were extremely excited due to caffeine. With his eyes closed, his brain was like a broken repeating machine, looping a question that no one knew who had asked: "Why hasn't he called you yet?"

What started as a simple question gradually turned into mockery, and soon escalated into criticism.

"You love so humbly."

“Janus wouldn’t do that.”

"How would he know if you didn't tell him? How stupid."

"Now he won't see your value; he'll just think he can solve all the problems without you."

"We won't fight today, we won't fight tomorrow, we'll never fight."

"He doesn't want you anymore either."

"..."

Driven by a ridiculous sense of self-justification, Jonathan suddenly opened his eyes, jumped off the sofa, and frantically searched for his carelessly tossed-away phone. His movements were too abrupt, and the apartment was dark, his vision blurred by static. He stubbornly persisted, relying on his sense of touch to find his way.

The target, however, seemed determined to antagonize him, refusing to appear no matter what he did. He was both angry and anxious, cold sweat beading on his forehead. His vision had already returned, but he still persisted in blindly venting his frustration with mechanical and meaningless movements.

A strange sense of detachment arose spontaneously, and consciousness drifted out of the body, looking down at the madman crawling around on the carpet.

He seemed to see his mother's shadow.

Then I wondered, having inherited my mother's talent and good looks, would I also have inherited her unhappiness in love?

Is that why he likes men and becomes a crazy person who can't help but love them in a stupid and humble way?

madman.

More than the harm he had suffered at the hands of his stepfather over the past year, a nightmare he was unwilling to recall suddenly unfolded before his eyes.

Did my mother suffer from a mental illness at that time?

If so, then everything he has today was obtained by abandoning his mother and selfishly running away.

Because of the cycle of cause and effect, he was always uneasy and dared not be happy, no matter who liked him or who he liked.

Jonathan was so frightened by this association that he exhaled a cold breath. He wanted to retreat back into his body, but his consciousness seemed to drift further and further away. He opened his mouth to call for help, but no sound came out.

A path of light suddenly extended from under the sofa. Jonathan tried to focus his attention on it. The ringtone became clearer, and he then stretched out his arms to reach it, gradually closing the distance.

Until you actually feel the phone in your hand, right in front of you.

The screen light was so bright it hurt my eyes. Jonathan rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and only then realized that the ringing had been going on for a long time when he saw the number on the caller ID.

He hurriedly answered the call and held it to his ear, but then panicked because he hadn't had time to guess what the other person would say. So he pursed his thin lips and waited quietly for the first sound to come from the receiver.

There was no sound.

Jonathan put his phone further away, straightened his body, touched his forehead to the ground, and knelt down, hugging himself tightly.

"I'm wearing a three-piece suit today..."

Jonah's long eyelashes fluttered on the carpet, and he forgot his panic at Jiang Songhe's hesitant words: "...Hmm?"

Jiang Songhe awkwardly chimed in, as if to say that he couldn't speak fluently and didn't want Jonathan to interrupt: "Uh, I'm unbuttoning my shirt."

Jonah freed one hand to hold the phone closer, forgetting his obsessive self-justification: "So late... did you just get off work?"

There was a few seconds of pause on the receiver, followed by a very faint exhalation, or perhaps a breathing sound. Jiang Songhe answered the question more fluently: "Yes, I just got home."

He uttered a fluent sentence, then began to stammer awkwardly, "My hands are frozen and I can't untie them... Could you... help me...?"

Jonathan turned his head, puzzled, to look at the ticking timer below the number. He pressed the cold, hard phone against his face, ruling out the possibility of time travel or a dream, and confirmed that Jiang Songhe, far away in Jingting, wanted him to help her untangle the knot via transoceanic radio waves.

“What…?” His thin lips parted, but before he could finish saying “what,” he abruptly turned into a surprised and enlightened “Ah.”

Is Jiang Songhe...actively...seeking peace...?

My thoughts rushed to two very specific words that begin with P and S, then I slammed on the brakes and turned around, heading in a more conservative direction that better suited my personality.

I'm not sure, I need to listen to it again.

Either way, it was enough to make Jonathan's body tremble and warm up, and he even felt inexplicably nervous. He swallowed, licked his lips, and drew out his words as he leaned closer to the microphone: "Okay...is it done?"

A rustling sound came from the receiver, probably from the mattress and blankets.

"Thanks."

The explicit expression of gratitude immediately conjured up a vivid image in Jonas's mind—not exactly concrete, but rather vague, night-vision distorted, and somewhat noisy…

My throat was itchy and thirsty, my body temperature suddenly rose, and I forgot all my worries.

Jiang Songhe's breathing slowed and deepened: "And the tie..."

Excellent service awareness is essential to live up to the trust placed in you on the first try. Since Jonathan didn't have a tie to untie, he used his other hand to wipe his collar with his fingertips to create an immersive atmosphere.

His slow, heavy breathing began to become incoherent and disordered: "Belt..."

Jonathan had a narrow belt around his waist. With a clinking sound, he unbuckled it and heard a long "whoosh" from the receiver. He interpreted this as positive feedback, which greatly encouraged him. He then wanted to add some more emotional companionship.

He reached his hand down.

"Huff... Huff..."

"..."

The rhythm is off, and it's becoming increasingly monotonous.

Jonathan was really tired today. His performance was quite dramatic, and he skillfully used his voice to act. Noticing the abnormal service feedback, he stopped and listened carefully.

"Huff... Huff..."

Upon hearing this, the flame, which had barely begun to ignite, instantly went out.

"Damn it, he's clearly asleep!!!"

...

"Hehehe~" Jonathan covered his cheeks, which were red from speechlessness and embarrassment, with one hand, and chuckled so hard that his shoulders shook.

Although, I felt very warm inside.

Jiang Songhe will discover her own good qualities; Jiang Songhe is different.

Knock knock, the door to the lounge was knocked twice.

"Come in, please." Jonathan curled his fingers, wiping away the moisture from his eyelashes with his fingertips, finally remembering that he had been waiting for "Weibo" to download. He was sure he had clicked download, but the icon on the screen was nowhere to be found.

Did you laugh too hard and accidentally delete it from the home screen?

He switched screens and swiped to the resource library, but still couldn't find it. He also searched for the name using Ceramic.com, but to no avail.

He blinked, staring absently at his phone, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a tall figure approaching the liquor cabinet not far away. He then remembered that he had just called a customer in, so he spared a bit of attention to greet him: "Hey, do you need me over there?"

“No.” Kun Ji’en didn’t turn around, casually selecting his target. “It’s me who needs to come here.”

The 3rd was the last day of the group recording, and among the four mentors, only Jonah knew why Kun Jien's team was ranked last.

The notoriously demanding mentor, Kun Ji'en, is known for his strict standards and sharp tongue. The Star Show team made this arrangement to give the team members more time to prepare their final song, and also to ensure the smooth and timely completion of the recording.

"Oh." It's common for musicians to drink while working. Jonathan himself doesn't drink, but the lounge has a wine cabinet specifically for serving others, so he wasn't surprised at all. "Help yourself."

Then I looked away and prepared to download the app that had vanished into thin air again.

Kun Ji'en locked onto his target, grabbed some wine and glasses, and went to sit down lazily on the circular sofa opposite Jonathan, asking for his opinion: "Do you mind?"

Jonathan didn't care, focusing on fiddling with his phone: "Go ahead. (Want a drink?)"

Jonathan isn't particularly addicted to electronic devices other than those necessary for music. For him, a mobile phone is just a communication tool for making calls and sending messages, and he occasionally uses the recording function to record inspiration in special circumstances.

Seeing that "Weibo" could be opened directly in the app store, he checked every nook and cranny again, and when he confirmed that it wasn't there, he was a little confused.

Fortunately, he wasn't a tech idiot, but a music idiot, so there was nothing to be ashamed of. He turned to his older colleague, who was also fiddling with his phone and had a grumpy face, and asked, "There's an app that seems to be playing hide-and-seek with me. Can you take a look?"

Kun Ji'en seemed to be arguing with someone, his brows furrowed, his lips pursed, and he raised his head, revealing a complex expression of anger and grievance, but his voice was one of utter annoyance: "What?"

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, ignoring the contradiction, and asked again.

Kun Ji'en sipped his drink while scanning the screen, then put down his glass and tossed his phone up, giving Jonathan a sinister look and saying, "Give it to me."

Jonathan tossed the phone over, and Kun Ji'en caught it. He asked for the name of the app, swiped a few times with one hand, and said, "You might have hidden it. Unlock it yourself and see."

"What's hidden?" Jonathan didn't know how to hide anything, so he didn't know where to unlock it. Seeing that Kun Ji'en was about to throw the phone back, he thought it was too much trouble to pass it around, so he simply walked to the other side to observe and learn. "You can do it."

Kun Ji'en's expression was gloomy, yet revealed a hint of surprise: "Are you sure?"

Jonathan raised his chin dismissively, while Kun Ji'en pursed his lips, held his phone screen in front of Jonathan's face for two seconds, then took it off and skillfully operated it.

Suddenly, as if he had discovered a new continent, he laughed out with amusement.

"I never imagined Jiang Songhe had such a perverted fetish?"