When Ephraim had visited the gym in the past, he hadn't actually gone inside—he wasn't allowed to back then. And by the time he finally got his membership, life had kept him too busy to properly look around.
So when he stepped through the doors today, he froze in the middle of the vast lobby, staring as if he had wandered into some other world.
Everything was gold. Golden ceilings. Golden floors. Golden equipment. Even the people seemed golden, perhaps because every single one of them was rich, and to Ephraim's eyes, they almost radiated a gilded halo.
What truly made his jaw drop, however, were the other facilities beyond the main workout area. They were so numerous there was a map at the front desk, along with glossy brochures that looked more like luxury travel guides.
Connected to the gym were a Pilates studio, a mirrored dance room, a yoga hall, a heated swimming pool, a boxing ring, and even a quiet corner with massage chairs. There was also an entire row of gleaming drink dispensers and vending machines stocked with snacks so high-end that Ephraim swore his eyes almost popped out.
"… Is this still a gym?" he muttered.
"It is indeed a gym," Shen Yizhou's voice was calm and low, carrying a faint warmth. He was holding a set of neatly folded clothes.
Ephraim cast him a sidelong glance before looking at the items. In addition to the uniform, there were boxing gloves and a collection of protective gear.
"… And this is for… what, Zhou-ge?"
Shen Yizhou glanced down at the things in his hands and replied in his usual steady tone, "I thought I'd try boxing. I heard the coach here is a retired professional—very skilled. He even knows Muay Thai. He runs his classes with military-level discipline, right down to designated uniforms."
Ephraim stared at him for a moment, then looked back around the glittering palace of a "gym."
'…Is this really still a gym? Or some kind of high-society playground?'
Either way, his dream of a sweet, couple-style workout went straight out the window. There was no way he was going to spend his afternoon in the ring, watching his date get punched in the face.
So, with great reluctance, Ephraim bid the man farewell as Shen Yizhou disappeared into the boxing room.
Just before the heavy door closed, Ephraim was almost certain he heard a muffled howl of some random dude and the ominous crack of bones from inside. But the door shut in his face before he could confirm anything.
"Hmph…" He glanced around at the gleaming rows of equipment, his motivation plummeting straight into the negatives. "My man's off fighting who-knows-what, Wang Jiannan's not even here… what was the point of me coming again?"
According to Rachel, Wang Jiannan usually showed up at the gym on this day. Ephraim had been planning to ambush him—either to ask him to convince Xu Jinyao to finally dump Wang Jianyuan or, at the very least, have him warn Xu Jinyao not to get swayed by that scumbag again.
[Rachel: You can still make it worth your while and get some exercise.]
He pouted dramatically but was about to give in when someone slammed into him. Hard.
Most people would have stumbled back from the force, but Ephraim didn't even sway. Instead, he turned his head, expression calm, and looked at the man clutching his arm as if in pain.
The stranger's face twisted into an annoyed sneer. "Hey, watch it."
"Uh, sorry, Mister." Ephraim tilted his head, trying to assess if he'd actually injured the guy.
The man's eyes darkened. Apparently, Ephraim's easy apology and unruffled demeanor only made him angrier. He gave an exaggerated huff and crossed his arms.
"You certainly know how to act," the man said coldly. "All polite on the outside, when you're nothing but a vile woman. You don't even belong here—but of course, girls like you can pillow-talk your way into any place, ruining it for the rest of us. What are you doing here anyway? Trying to stage more fake content for that pathetic excuse of a channel you run?"
Momentarily stunned by the verbal sludge thrown in his face, Ephraim's eyes swept over the other men lingering nearby—each of them wearing the same cold, dismissive look.
He smiled pleasantly, but inside, he was already laughing with Rachel.
[Ephraim: I almost forgot... these days, the rich hate me the most. Of course someone would come pick a fight.]
[Rachel: He saw his chance the moment Shen Yizhou walked away.]
A lighthearted chuckle escaped him as he clapped his hands together. "I came here to work out, just like anyone else."
"Work out? There's nothing you need to improve. Do you start lying the moment you open your mouth?" the man scoffed.
Though clearly meant as an insult, Ephraim was touched.
[Ephraim: Hear that, Rachel? He says I'm perfect. Gorgeous. The very definition of peak human aesthetics, so flawless there's nothing left to improve.]
[Rachel: He's just finished a set, hon. I don't think he can see straight.]
[Ephraim: …]
Whatever the man said next was irrelevant. Ephraim had already adopted him as a future gym buddy in his mind.
With a friendly grin, he chuckled. "Thanks. I think you're cute too. Wanna work out together?"
The man froze, then flushed red. "Are you making fun of me? You're just a girl. How are you going to keep up? I don't work out with pretentious people."
By the time he finished, Ephraim had already sauntered over to the pull-up bar. In one smooth jump, he caught hold, and without so much as a waver in his breathing, banged out fifty pull-ups—each one crisp, controlled, and annoyingly effortless.
Or at least, that's how it looked to everyone watching.
Now the bystanders were staring at him in stunned silence. A few even seemed to be reassessing him entirely.
Ephraim hopped down lightly, walked back to the earlier loudmouth, and tapped a friendly fist against the man's chest with a playful grin.
"So," he said, eyes sparkling, "wanna be my gym buddy, Mister?"
Fifteen minutes later, Ephraim had successfully adopted a small troop of gym bros, all won over by his dazzling display of "fitness prowess."
Winning people over in a place like this was surprisingly easy. Everyone was here to better themselves, and these guys were no exception. They'd initially been blinded by the ongoing gossip and assumed this "woman" was nothing but trouble. But to their surprise, she turned out to be a hardworking lady with skills that far surpassed their own.
At least, that's what they thought.
On the treadmill, Ephraim ran with a bright, easy smile, while inside, he might as well have been coughing up blood. Pushing this body this hard was pure torture, but the problem with showing off was that you had to keep up the act afterward.
Now, with his wig damp from sweat and his makeup clinging on for dear life, he managed a pained smile when one of his new gym bros praised him.
"You're so cool, Miss Ling. Do you work out often?"
Brushing a wet strand of hair back, Ephraim forced a laugh and replied between gasps, "Absolutely. The man that yearns is the man that earns. These guns come from constant effort."
Meanwhile, internally-
[Ephraim: How much time's left, Rachel?]
[Rachel: Ten minutes.]
[Ephraim: Just kill me.]
[Rachel: I mean… just two minutes. Five times.]
[Ephraim: Oh, that's better. I can do this.]
And so, the rest of his "workout" was buoyed by the occasional compliment from his newly-acquired fans.
When it finally ended, Ephraim smiled at them, made a polite excuse, and retreated toward the vending area. There, he downed three full glasses of lemonade in quick succession before flopping into one of the massage chairs, draping a cool, damp towel over his eyes like a man on the brink of death.
He heard someone else, gasping for breath, collapse into a chair nearby.
After a moment, when the ache in his muscles dulled enough to speak, Ephraim rasped out, "Hard work out?"
The guy beside him managed an even raspier reply. "Awful. But I feel like I really went all out today. My ass already feels heavier. The squats I did were insane."
"How many?"
With a smug little smile, the man lifted his chin. "Ten."
Ephraim tried, truly tried, to keep a straight face. "First time at the gym?"
"Yeah," the man admitted easily. "I just… keep forgetting to come. For a few years in a row."
"Oh? What changed? Why now?"
There was a long pause. Then Ephraim heard a suspiciously choked sound.
Startled, he pulled the towel from his eyes. The man was staring up at the ceiling, visibly fighting back another sob. His lips were pressed into a pitiful pout, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.
He was short, but handsome, the kind of handsome that looked even more striking up close. There was a certain serious air about him, though Ephraim suspected that had less to do with his personality and more with the pair of glasses set neatly on the table beside him. Subconsciously, Ephraim always linked glasses to the words cool and intellectual.
"Uh… sorry… breakup?" Ephraim asked awkwardly.
"No. Worse," the man croaked.
The man, Zhou Gao, let out another quiet sob before finally turning his head toward Ephraim. His gaze landed, lingered… and then his eyes went wide.
He froze for a beat, as if struck by lightning, before stammering, "Ling Xiaoying? The Ling Xiaoying?"
Before Ephraim could ask why this stranger suddenly looked as if he'd just met his idol—or the love of his life—a sharp, annoyed voice cut in.
"Ling Xiaoying!? What are you doing here?"
Ephraim turned his head and saw a tall, fit man approaching with clear exasperation written all over his face. It was Wang Jiannan.
And then, right on cue, another voice joined in. This one was gentler, though tinged with disbelief.
"Ling Xiaoying? What are you talking about? She's here?"
Peeking out from behind Wang Jiannan, Xu Jinyao stepped forward, scepticism in his eyes, until they landed on Ephraim. His expression shifted instantly into something far more complicated.
Ephraim noticed then: the faint redness around Xu Jinyao's eyes. Puffy lids, the kind that came from crying through the night.
At that moment, Rachel's voice spoke gently in his mind, calm and almost amused.
[Rachel: There you go. The very reason you came today.]