Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 25

The initial shock brought tears, but as the excitement gradually subsided, warmth began to fill him.

Ran Lin hugged his phone, lying on the bed, and smiled foolishly for half an hour. He meticulously went through the screenshots again from start to finish, feeling incredibly fulfilled and empowered.

If the sky were to fall at that moment, he felt he could be the first to rush out to evacuate the crowd, standing there ready to hold up the sky.

[Received all the screenshots. Thank you, really.]

Ran Lin looked at the reply he had painstakingly crafted and sent, feeling inexplicably annoyed at himself for sounding like a primary schooler.

He had so much gratitude in his heart, wanted to hug Lu Yiyao and weep in a whirlwind of emotions, but when it came to typing it out, it became a back-and-forth of deleting and retyping, ending up as this awkward message.

Still not right.

Too stiff!

Ran Lin sat up abruptly, ruffling his hair in frustration, and finally, with unprecedented seriousness and care, he carefully typed a second message—

[Also, the mosaic was really bold🤭]

After sending it, Ran Lin felt much more satisfied, contentedly lying down and turning on the WeChat notification sound, staring at the ceiling while waiting for a reply from his friend.

Ran Lin waited for an hour.

There was no response from the other side.

He then realized that, given Lu Yiyao’s workload, he was probably rushing to another appointment, and his phone was likely left with his agent or assistant, not with him.

However, considering Lu Yiyao had sent those pictures at three in the morning the day before, if he was working now, had he even slept at all?

After a wild bout of speculations, Ran Lin could only hope that Lu Yiyao wasn’t working and was just sleeping in after a late night.

Hengdian Film & Television Studios, Qin Palace.

In the gloomy light, the suddenly aged Lu Yiyao, dressed in a black robe with crossed collars and a belt at the waist, adorned with gold patterns on the neckline and wide sleeves, was silent, just quietly gazing at the low table on the ground, as if reminiscing about the man who used to sit there and debate statecraft with him but was ultimately executed by himself. They had known each other for half a lifetime, both as sovereign and subject and as close friends, yet in the end, they couldn’t end well.

Never mind, he had killed too many people. In the face of his great cause, this was neither the first nor the last.

The camera gradually zoomed out, showing Lu Yiyao walking alone up the steps, slowly moving towards the depths of the palace garden, leaving only a dark and desolate silhouette behind…

“OK, pass!” The director, watching the monitor, finally said with satisfaction.

Lu Yiyao stopped, and his tense nerves finally relaxed. The old-age makeup made him quite uncomfortable. Fortunately, the last shot was zoomed out, and only his back was filmed. Otherwise, his micro-expressions might have caused the director to retake the shot.

With this shot, Lu Yiyao had completed all five of his scenes.

Today, four of the scenes were solo shots, and only one was with another actor. However, the lead male actor, citing scheduling conflicts, didn’t make it, so the director had no choice but to use a stand-in, focusing the camera solely on Lu Yiyao.

Lu Yiyao was only a secondary character in this movie. When he accepted the script, <Yun Zhang> had just finished airing, and <Beihai Tree> hadn’t been released yet. His most prominent role on the big screen was still the third male lead in a campus youth film he debuted in. No one knew if the popularity on the small screen could truly translate to box office appeal on the big screen, especially with the artistic nature of <Beihai Tree>. His agency was eager for him to take on a real commercial blockbuster.

So even as a secondary character, Lu Yiyao and his team still took it very seriously.

The movie had wrapped up filming at the end of the previous year. Afterward, Lu Yiyao started filming the reality show until early February, when the director personally called to discuss reshooting some scenes.

Lu Yiyao could have refused, as per the contract, he had completed the agreed content within the stipulated work period. This reshoot wasn’t in the script, but he also understood the director’s pursuit of perfection, so he still managed to free up a day from his schedule for the reshoot.

The director reviewed the reshoot content to ensure there were no errors, then stood up from behind the monitor and walked over to Lu Yiyao.

This director was actually quite renowned in the industry, having made several award-winning films in his early years. But as movies became more entertainment-oriented and the audience younger in recent years, he had to start compromising with capital, transitioning towards commercial filmmaking. However, artistic preferences and thought processes aren’t developed overnight, and this transition was quite challenging, leading him into a strange cycle of critical acclaim but box office failure.

But Lu Yiyao respected him greatly because the director respected all actors, never abused his seniority, and was meticulous and serious at work. To put it in an exaggerated way, when the director was focused in front of the monitor, Lu Yiyao felt like he could see the man burning with passion—burning his life and effort for his artistic pursuits.

Lu Yiyao envied such intense and pure dedication.

“It’s been tough.” The director patted his back, both relieved and grateful. “Especially coming all this way, it must have been hard to coordinate your schedule.”

“It’s nothing.” Lu Yiyao downplayed it, not dwelling on these issues. “This is naturally my duty. It’s the job I chose*.”

*Bowl of rice. It’s a colloquialism referring to one’s livelihood or profession in a particular field. When someone says they are “eating this bowl of rice” (as in this case), it means they are implying they are dedicated to their profession and take it seriously.

The director seemed surprised by his response, pondering for a few seconds, then suddenly pulled him to a corner. “Let me talk to you about acting.”

Lu Yiyao was puzzled, not knowing why the director wanted to talk about acting when the lighting and photography crew were already packing up their equipment.

Soon, the director led him to a relatively quiet corner. Crew members were still bustling around, but everyone was busy wrapping up, and no one paid attention to the director and actor having a heart-to-heart.

“I admire your work attitude, so I’ll be straightforward with you. Don’t mind my directness.” The director looked at him as if he were a junior, with a bit of kindness but more expectations. “Having the right attitude is good, but your acting skills indeed need more polishing.”

Lu Yiyao didn’t expect to receive such a comment. Throughout the filming process, the director often suggested, “You can try feeling like this,” and then would elaborate on the character, conflicts, and body language.

However, he had never directly told any actor that their performance wasn’t good. Even for those performances Lu Yiyao himself could tell weren’t up to par, the director was incredibly patient. Lu Yiyao had thought this was just the director’s temperament, but now it seemed more like he was considering the actors’ emotions, as criticism wouldn’t solve problems and might instead hinder progress.

Seeing Lu Yiyao didn’t react negatively, the director opened up and kept speaking. “Acting, for some, relies on perseverance, for others on aura—some on experience, and others on their looks…”

“Those who rely on perseverance push themselves into their roles. They don’t stop until they feel like they’ve gone mad. This is the most admirable; those who rely on aura shine brightly with roles that resonate with them but falter with those that don’t. Such actors are lucky. As long as they find the right role, they can achieve astonishing effects with little effort. But aura is very fleeting; I won’t say much about those who rely on experience, as they are the most common. Their performances are formulaic, mediocre, and their brilliance depends entirely on the script. As for those who rely on looks, I’ll be frank; don’t take offense, but young actors like you in the industry nowadays are mostly about their looks. The audience can’t remember your characters, only the actors themselves, and that’s not good…”

Seeing Lu Yiyao remain silent, the director suddenly laughed self-deprecatingly. “Do you think my old-fashioned ideas are outdated…”

“No.” Lu Yiyao had listened intently. “I’ll seriously consider what you said.”

The director nodded with satisfaction. “I appreciate your attitude towards acting—serious and professional—but it’s not enough love.” He paused, looking at the busy crew members, watching them slowly clear the once fully decorated palace, leaving behind an empty shell. “There’s no passion for acting in your eyes. If you can’t fall in love with this line of work, you’ll always be just a star.”

“Of course,” the director’s gaze returned to Lu Yiyao, “If that’s what you’re aiming for, then ignore what I just said.”

Lu Yiyao moved his lips as if to speak but didn’t know what to say. Someone called the director, who responded and patted Lu Yiyao’s shoulder one last time before leaving without saying more.

Lu Yiyao stood still, deep in thought.

Not enough love.

What does it take to truly love it?

“Lu Ge—”

Li Tong’s lively voice brought Lu Yiyao back. He looked up to see his assistant and Yao Hong coming over. They had been on set during the reshoot, and if the director hadn’t spoken to him, they probably would have come over sooner.

“Yao Jie.” Lu Yiyao greeted his agent.

“Mm.” Yao Hong didn’t say much, only, “Hurry up and remove your makeup. The car is waiting outside.”

Lu Yiyao nodded and quickly went into the makeup room.

Soon after, Lu Yiyao emerged from the past and returned to the present. He said goodbye to the director and crew and left the film base. His schedule was tight, and his cooperation was appreciated; everyone understood the rush.

Inside the car, Lu Yiyao finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The astute assistant immediately offered coffee and a phone. Lu Yiyao set the coffee aside and unlocked his phone. Sure enough, there was an unread message notification on the green app icon.

Lu Yiyao’s lips unconsciously curled up as he opened the message, but then he heard Yao Hong ask, “What did the director talk to you about just now?”

Suppressing his curiosity, Lu Yiyao put down his phone and answered seriously, “He gave me some advice on acting. Quite enlightening.”

Yao Hong seemed relieved and satisfied. “It seems he likes you.”

Lu Yiyao thought about it and cautiously said, “Should be okay.”

“Mm.” Yao Hong said with significance, “You don’t lack popularity now. What you need is to accumulate works and reputation. Popularity can’t support you forever. Steady progress is key for longevity.”

Lu Yiyao looked at his agent earnestly, nodding in an “I really get it” way.

Yao Hong met his gaze, and seeing no intention to continue the conversation, finally said, “Alright, that’s all too far ahead. Just rest for now.”

Lu Yiyao watched Yao Hong settle back, leaving only the back of her head, and then relaxed into the seat, picking up his phone again.

The screen had already turned off.

Lu Yiyao unlocked it, and the WeChat interface he had opened earlier reappeared, showing “2” on Ran Lin’s icon.

[Received all the screenshots. Thank you, really.]

[Also, the mosaic was really bold🤭]

Lu Yiyao looked at the two messages from a few hours ago and then opened one of his own sent screenshots. The mosaic was indeed startling. Lu Yiyao blushed, surprised by his own hasty work from the night before, which didn’t seem so rough at the time. However, Ran Lin’s emoji response was lively; Lu Yiyao could almost see him covering his mouth, laughing.

[Please don’t focus on details other than the message.]

After sending this somewhat dry response, Lu Yiyao didn’t know why he felt so pleased—just inexplicably happy.

The reply came quickly, almost instantly—[Were you busy just now?]

[In Hengdian, reshooting some scenes.]

[Chaos in Qin Palace?]

[You know?]

[After all, I was your diehard fan. 😂]

[Not anymore?]

[I thought I had already successfully ascended. 😲]

Lu Yiyao looked at the little emoticon with hands on its face, wishing he could reach in and knock on it.

[Yes, you can put down your light sign now. Friend.]

“Who are you chatting with?” The continuous WeChat notifications were hard for Yao Hong to ignore, especially with the suspicious and dangerous smile on Lu Yiyao’s face.

Lu Yiyao instinctively put down his phone, vaguely saying, “A friend.”

As soon as he finished speaking, his phone dinged again.

But he couldn’t check it now, as Yao Hong clearly wasn’t satisfied with that answer—

“Someone from the industry?”

“Mm.”

“A girl?”

“A guy.”

Yao Hong finally relaxed, not because she was against Lu Yiyao dating, but because it was indeed not the right time at this stage of his career. Seeing his agent finally at ease, Lu Yiyao was satisfied with his response, waiting for her to turn away so he could continue chatting with his friend. However, she kept looking at him with increasingly furrowed brows…

“Who is it? A man… who?”

Lu Yiyao sighed, knowing evasion was futile. Yao Hong had a keen eye and probably realized he was reluctant to share. But he didn’t like lying, so when pressed, he had no choice but to tell the truth. “Ran Lin.”

Yao Hong’s expression changed subtly. It wasn’t anger, but certainly not happiness either; more like unexpected surprise, then slowly, a layer of disapproval surfaced. “Have you forgotten how you met him and how he used that for publicity?”

Her tone wasn’t harsh, but her stance was clear.

Lu Yiyao pondered for a moment before calmly responding, “Since the reality show started, he hasn’t used me for publicity anymore.”

“That’s because it’s already been overdone. He knows continuing would only result in backlash from your fans.” Yao Hong sighed, not so much criticizing as hoping to reason with her artist. “And even if he’s stopped now, can we just ignore what he did before?”

“He has already apologized for what he did before.”

“If apologies were enough, there wouldn’t be so many broken friendships in the circle.” Yao Hong looked helplessly at her naively optimistic charge. “And besides, you were never even friends to begin with.”

“We are now.” Lu Yiyao, after much deliberation, revealed this harsh truth to his agent.

Yao Hong was stunned, not just by the development of their relationship but also because this was the first time Lu Yiyao had acknowledged a friend in the industry.

In almost four years with him, she had seen him transition from a nobody to a star, working with countless artists. But whenever asked about these people, Lu Yiyao would at most say, “Yeah, quite familiar.” He never once said, “This person is my friend.”

She had thought Lu Yiyao simply didn’t plan to make friends in the industry.

“What kind of magic potion has Ran Lin fed you…” Yao Hong, unable to fathom the situation, resorted to a light-hearted remark.

Lu Yiyao tilted his head, pondering. “It is strange. But I do find him easy to get along with and comfortable to be around.”

“As long as you’re happy.” Yao Hong knew she couldn’t persuade him otherwise. “But remember, always be cautious, no matter the situation.”

Lu Yiyao appreciated his manager’s concern. “I understand.”

Yao Hong leaned back in her seat, rubbing her temples. The child was grown and beyond her control; she could only watch over him as best as she could. Li Tong, who had been eavesdropping for gossip, had been ready to give up when Lu Yiyao said, “a guy.”

But after listening to the whole conversation and seeing Lu Yiyao happily continue his chat, he felt something was off. He really wanted to hold a mirror up to his boss. With such a tender expression, one could believe he was chatting with a mistress.

What does it feel like to be friends with Lu Yiyao?

Ran Lin couldn’t describe it but seeing the word “friend” in Lu Yiyao’s message, he felt like running laps.

And that’s precisely what he did, though not downstairs but in the gym.

The personal trainer, seeing Ran Lin exercise so vigorously for the first time, didn’t need to push him. Changing into workout clothes, Ran Lin started running like a man possessed on the treadmill. The trainer, concerned, slightly slowed the pace for him and couldn’t resist asking, “Encountered some good news? You seem so excited.”

Running hard, Ran Lin still managed to laugh radiantly. “I made a really good friend today!”

The trainer nodded and then let it go.

How hard is it to make a friend? Going to grab a bunch of skewers can earn you a bunch. But thinking again, he seemed to understand. The world of celebrities is always more complex than that of ordinary people.

Just a few days after establishing their friendship, the fifth episode’s recording began. Ran Lin had always felt this reality show nearly filled his life. Recording ended just days before airing, and soon after watching, they were back to recording. Every day, he had to think about the show—his performance, audience reactions, teammates’ attitudes—so much that his head ached. The pressure was relentless.

But this time, for some reason, he almost looked forward to the filming, especially seeing his companions at the airport. His body suddenly felt light, as if stepping on a cloud.

He and Lu Yiyao didn’t mention the screenshots again because they had already discussed everything on WeChat, even unrelated topics. So when they met again, they just greeted each other naturally, without further conversation.

But Xia Xinran keenly sensed a subtle change between the two and directly asked if they had been meeting privately when not recording the show. Before receiving an answer, they were rushed to board the plane, and then the matter was forgotten.

The theme of the fifth episode was “Desert First Love”, and the program group, with typical ruthlessness, took them to Dubai.

Of course, this was known when signing the contract—eight episodes in total, the first four in China, the last four abroad, with different filming periods: two days in China, three days abroad.

Wild camels in the yellow desert, skyscrapers that settled along the blue bay, desert and ocean, primitive and modern, intertwined to form a postcard of the United Arab Emirates.

The originally planned three-day filming ended in just two and a half days due to coordination issues at the last location, and since there was enough footage, the director decisively called an early wrap.

But with plane tickets and hotel bookings scheduled for an early departure the next day, and with so many people in the program group, changing plans was a hassle. So the director simply gave everyone half a day off for free time.

The five companions were utterly bewildered by this sudden holiday. Seeing most of the program crew heading towards shopping, they followed their seniors’ lead and headed straight to—Dubai Mall!

Dubai Mall, the largest shopping center in the world. Basically, any luxury item you can think of, you’ll find here, and even those you can’t imagine. The first thing that catches your eye as you enter is a gigantic aquarium, reminiscent of an oceanarium, with sharks swimming inside, declaring the mall’s grandeur. As you wander, you’ll also encounter an ice rink.

Maintaining an ice rink in a desert region requires an unknown amount of human, material, and financial resources. It’s just like the lush green trees outside, sustained by unimaginable costs.

But people entering the mall don’t care about these things; shopping is their main focus.

For five male celebrities, it was a rare chance to experience freedom and joy. Nobody cared who they were; even if compatriots passed by, most were uninterested and busy with their tour groups. Occasionally, some young fans excitedly asked for an autograph or a quick chat before leaving.

Xia Xinran was overjoyed, restrained only by his agent, or else he’d be broke by the end of the year. In contrast, Gu Jie and Zhang Beichen were more practical, selecting only useful items and gifts for relatives and friends.

But even Xia Xinran’s extravagance paled in comparison to Lu Yiyao. He bought two Hermès and two Chanel women’s bags, two Chopard women’s watches, and four bottles of different brands of women’s perfume, among other miscellaneous items. The amount spent was staggering, especially since he bought everything in pairs.

“You’re too good to your girlfriend,” Xia Xinran joked, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of purchases.

Lu Yiyao just smiled noncommittally. Ran Lin didn’t say anything but admired Lu Yiyao’s ability to keep his privacy. His girlfriend could be Nezha, yet Lu Yiyao could still remain tight-lipped.

Wang Xi also joined them this time, buying two Cartier watches, one for men and one for women. Ran Lin was surprised, having never heard of her having a boyfriend, but Wang Xi quickly packed up her purchases without a word, so Ran Lin felt it was inappropriate to pry.

Shopping could inadvertently reveal secrets. So, for “safety”, Ran Lin barely bought anything. He did smell a men’s perfume that Lu Yiyao picked, liked it, but then decided against buying it. Lu Yiyao, who bought four bottles, got to choose a 30ml bottle as a gift and picked the one Ran Lin liked. Ran Lin was pleased, appreciating Lu Yiyao’s taste.

They shop until nightfall, reluctantly ending their shopping spree. Despite the production team’s lavishness, they didn’t stay at the Burj Al Arab Hotel, a regret for Ran Lin.

Back at the hotel, watching Lu Yiyao unpack his spoils, Ran Lin forgot his regret. Their rooms were adjacent and Ran Lin could easily see into Lu Yiyao’s room with the door open.

Entering someone else’s room uninvited was impolite, unless invited—

“Stop sneaking peeks,” Lu Yiyao said while packing, not looking up.

Ran Lin was amazed. “Do you have eyes on the back of your head?”

“Ah, near vermillion you turn red*,” Lu Yiyao replied, continuing his task or reorganization to make room for his new purchases.

*The full idiom is: Those close to vermillion get stained red, those near ink get stained black (近朱者赤，近墨者黑). It refers to the idea that proximity to something (or someone) can influence a person’s character or behavior. 

Ran Lin, feeling awkward to sit on the bed, pulled up a chair. “Need help?”

“No need,” Lu Yiyao said, organizing his clothes to the side of his suitcase. “I just don’t want to crease the bags. If they get damaged, the ladies would be upset.”

Ran Lin now understood why Lu Yiyao didn’t want help but was surprised he was mentioning the recipients, considering he avoided such topics during the day.

Lu Yiyao stopped packing and looked up with a resigned expression. “Xia Xinran is nice, but he’s just too lively.”

Ran Lin leaned back in his chair with his chin resting on his arms. “Worried he’ll spill your secrets?”

Lu Yiyao said each word in a deep tone, “Not worried, sure.”

Ran Lin laughed. “Should I close the door? If someone hears, you won’t have peace.”

Lu Yiyao pondered solemnly. “I think you should.”

Ran Lin, unable to suppress a smile, got up to close the door. Just as he shut it, he heard Lu Yiyao say, “I bought these for my mom and sister.”

Ran Lin froze, taking a moment to recover before looking at Lu Yiyao in surprise.

This was the first time Lu Yiyao had spoken about his family. If Ran Lin remembered correctly, Lu Yiyao had always avoided talking about his family or background during filming. Clearly, he didn’t like discussing these matters.

But now, as he mentioned “my mom” and “my sister”, his eyes were uncharacteristically tender.

Unsure how to respond, Ran Lin decided it wasn’t appropriate to probe further. He walked back and sat down, maintaining a natural tone and demeanor. “I guess the Chanel is for your sister?”

Lu Yiyao shook his head.

Ran Lin was surprised. “Then, Hermès?” He wasn’t very familiar with brands, but he thought the Chanel style seemed younger.

Lu Yiyao shook his head again.

Ran Lin had an ominous feeling. “Don’t tell me you got one of each brand for each person.”

Lu Yiyao: “Not the perfumes.”

Ran Lin: “…Right, two brands of perfume for each.”

Lu Yiyao: “Can’t be uneven.”

Ran Lin: “Are you sure you studied in Manchester, England, and not in Confucius’ hometown in Shandong?”

Lu Yiyao was taken aback and blurted out, “That’s my dad’s influence.”

After saying this, his smile faded, as if mentioning it brought an abrupt change in the atmosphere.

Ran Lin disliked sudden silences, feeling a bit panicked, especially since the mood had been so good before…

“I noticed you didn’t buy much.” Lu Yiyao changed the topic, getting busy again.

Ran Lin immediately followed up. “There wasn’t anything special I wanted to buy. If I had to think of something, chances are I wouldn’t like it once I got it. It’d be a waste.”

“That makes sense,” Lu Yiyao said, arranging the bags in his suitcase. He then took the perfumes, placing them in the right spots. The 30ml bottle, however, he didn’t put in the suitcase. Instead, he handed it to Ran Lin. “This is for you.”

Ran Lin didn’t take it immediately, his mouth slightly agape. After a moment, he managed a startled “Ah?”

Lu Yiyao, feeling his arms getting tired, placed the item on the bed within Ran Lin’s reach and continued packing. “Didn’t you like this scent?”

Ran Lin was baffled. “How did you know?”

Lu Yiyao glanced at him. “Your expression when you smelled that perfume strip was the same as when you took a photo with Iron Man.”

Ran Lin was speechless.

Lu Yiyao didn’t think much of it and urged, “Don’t be polite with me. It was just a free gift. I have so many perfumes at home they could be used for bathing. Taking it back would just gather dust.”

With that said, Ran Lin couldn’t refuse anymore and silently reached for the gift. The 30ml perfume box was delicate. Its sharp edges tingled in his palm—a sensation that traveled to his heart and then to his cheeks, warming them.

Ran Lin didn’t understand why his heart was racing. To cover it up, he coughed lightly and mumbled, “Had I known, I wouldn’t have smelled the perfume strip. I should have smelled a Hermès…”

---

Kinky Thoughts:

I would be sniffing all the Birkins.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>