Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 50

After finishing the call with Huo Yuntao, it was already past 1 a.m. With a heavy day of filming ahead, Lu Yiyao knew he should go to sleep immediately; otherwise, he wouldn’t even enjoy the three or four hours of sleep left.

But he wasn’t sleepy.

He was more awake than ever before, with various thoughts tumbling in his head, interspersed with replayed snippets of Huo Yuntao’s advice. It was all so muddled that he couldn’t distinguish what were his thoughts and what were Huo Yuntao’s anymore.

Since you don’t want to develop feelings for him, does it matter whether he likes you or not?

It didn’t matter. But he just wanted to know.

And what difference would it make knowing?

Not wanting to accept someone’s feelings, not wanting to hurt them, yet hoping they behave as they always did—it’s simply…

“Beast!”

Lu Yiyao buried his face in the pillow, feeling self-loathing for the first time.

In the English countryside villa under the winter sky, Huo Yuntao carefully assembled the baked gingerbread into a house, ending with tears streaming down his face at his creation.

The finished product barely resembled the original sweet Christmas gingerbread house concept. The walls were crooked, the roof askew, and most importantly, the gingerbread was overbaked. The intended warm brown biscuits were tinged with patches of black, making the whole piece seem more suitable for Halloween than Christmas.

He sighed, took down a wall, and started crunching it.

Chewing helps with thinking.

He hadn’t had to use his brain this much in a long time.

Despite the solid advice he gave Lu Yiyao, he was merely theorizing from the sidelines. After all, during his early dating days, he was naive enough to believe that boys and girls could make babies by lying together. So, Lu Yiyao’s so-called doubts and hesitations—he could understand but couldn’t truly empathize.

Liking someone means wanting to talk to them, be close to them, or simply feeling happy just seeing them. How hard can it be to figure that out?

If Ran Lin were a girl, Huo Yuntao could have directly thrown this reasoning at Lu Yiyao. No, if that were the case, Lu Yiyao probably wouldn’t have called him, being clear about his feelings.

The problem is Ran Lin is a man.

When Huo Yuntao first received the call from his old friend, he didn’t think much of it, just helping a friend fend off an unwanted suitor. But this time he realized Lu Yiyao’s concern for this matter, or rather for that person, far exceeded his imagination.

Over a decade of friendship, and he’d never seen Lu Yiyao so fixated on anyone, regardless of gender.

Liking and loving might be hard to distinguish, but caring is definite.

Could Lu Yiyao possibly be gay?

That’s something Huo Yuntao had never even considered.

Having studied in England for so many years, it’s not unusual to be swayed by the culture, but Lu Yiyao never showed the slightest inclination in that direction.

Clearly, Lu Yiyao thought the same, hence his assertive denial every time the topic arose.

With this in mind, Huo Yuntao knew he couldn’t be the one to push the wave and add to the billow.

Sexual orientation is no small matter. Whether one likes men or women can profoundly impact or even change one’s path in life. Lu Yiyao might be standing at a crossroads—a slight push could lead him left, a gentle pull right. Huo Yuntao could fully support whatever choice his friend made, but he couldn’t let his preferences influence or interfere.

Personally, he hoped Lu Yiyao would remain the same straightforward person, bright future and all. Because if Lu Yiyao chose the left path, it would mean tackling a very tough road, at best sacrificing his career and popularity, and at worst ruining the already unstable family relationships.

But as a friend, if Lu Yiyao indeed chose the hard mode, Huo Yuntao would have to pick up an ax and accompany his friend on the journey. What had he done in his past life to deserve this!

Having one true friend is enough.

Any more, and you really might worry yourself to death.

……

Lu Yiyao thought all night, staying awake until dawn.

As the eastern sky turned white, he made a decision—to be a good person.

What does it mean to be a good person?

It means being kind, understanding, restraining oneself, being like the Disney character who quietly accompanies Ran Lin “preparing” for the scene.

Hoping someone continues being an intimate friend without reciprocating their feelings is like wanting the impossible. Not acting on whims, restraining the so-called “pure friendship”, is the greatest consideration and respect for the other person.

Regarding whether to wear the same clothes or strip someone’s clothes off, Huo Yuntao’s crass words had some truth.

Once one side falls in love, friendship is no longer possible.

He accepted that.

But if possible, he wished he could go back to the moment Ran Lin’s heart was stirred and strangled whatever he was doing but definitely shouldn’t have been doing in the flowing time.

……

“Cut! That’s a wrap—”

As the director’s voice echoed through the loudspeaker, everyone on the set applauded.

Beautiful flowers were presented. Zhao Buyao, who had just been “arguing” with Tang Jingyu, was beaming—Xi Ruohan’s scenes were wrapped.

This was the predetermined schedule, starting a week late and ending a week early.

“Thank you for your hard work.” Director Chen stood up and went to the set as usual to give affirmation and encouragement to the actor finishing their shoot.

“I really want to say it wasn’t hard, but Director Chen…” Xi Ruohan’s pretty face crumpled with a mix of mischief, sincerity, and a hint of teasing. “In these four and a half months in your crew, I lost over ten pounds.”

Chen Qizheng tilted his head to observe for a moment, jokingly retorting, “Doesn’t seem very obvious…”

Xi Ruohan: “Any thinner and I’d look unrecognizable.” She finally turned serious, paused, and sincerely said, “Thank you, Director.”

A drama can stagnate an actor or push them to break through and be reborn. Only the actors themselves understand the taste and gain.

Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu were sitting in the rest area outside the “Liuhua Palace”, as their scenes were scheduled for later. They could only watch Xi Ruohan and the director talk through the open doorway, unable to hear the conversation but noticing that Xi Ruohan was more docile than ever before, the director was unusually amiable, and Lu Yiyao, as always, was gentle.

“Her scenes are wrapped, huh? That must feel good,” Tang Xiaoyu said enviously.

Ran Lin comforted him. “We’ll be done soon too.”

“Thank goodness this series is only forty episodes.” Tang Xiaoyu sighed deeply, filled with emotion, “Otherwise, with such high standards and strict demands, even the martial alliance leader couldn’t last for sixty episodes.”

Ran Lin chuckled, about to join in, but Tang Xiaoyu suddenly changed the topic in a lower voice. “Have you noticed that Xi Ruohan seems a bit different from when she first joined?”

Ran Lin glanced at the leading actress again and nodded. “Yeah, she’s definitely lost a lot of weight.”

Tang Xiaoyu clarified with frustration. “I’m not talking about her figure, but her personality, personality!”

Ran Lin, momentarily confused, was about to apologize to his own orientation when Tang Xiaoyu didn’t notice and continued, “When she first came, her nose was almost in the air, and I was invisible to her…”

Before he could finish, he stopped abruptly as Xi Ruohan, who had finished saying her goodbyes to the director and crew, came out.

Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu immediately stood up and congratulated the lead actress on finishing her scenes.

Xi Ruohan responded formally and politely.

Just when they thought everything was smooth and it was time for goodbyes, Xi Ruohan suddenly threw out, “I hope we have the chance to work together again,” and then ran off without looking back.

Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu were left looking at each other in bewilderment.

After a moment, Ran Lin burst into laughter.

Tang Xiaoyu, catching on, said with a dejected face, “That’s not hope, that’s a curse… When a lady becomes gentle, she’s still a lady—one of the most difficult types of women for me in this lifetime. Even as just a partner, of course, I’d prefer the gentle ones!”

After the tumultuous Tang Jingyu and Zhao Buyao’s scenes at the Liuhua Palace, it was time for the deep-in-enemy-lines scenes of Fang Xian and Xu Chongfei.

By this time, Fang Xian and Tang Jingyu were at odds, and Xu Chongfei, having rescued Tang Jingyu from the Fang Clan, discovered the mastermind behind the shadows was Abbot Haikong.

It was indeed Fang Huanzhi who orchestrated the bloodbath of the opposing sects, but the one who used Fang Huanzhi’s plot to eliminate the sects and then used Tang Jingyu to eliminate Fang Huanzhi was the Liuhua Palace. They desired the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual and aimed to dominate the martial world.

Zhao Buyao, as the daughter of the Liuhua Palace’s leader, naturally disbelieved this and had a fierce argument with Tang Jingyu. In a fit of anger, Zhao Buyao stormed off and disappeared. Tang Jingyu, determined to uncover the truth, sneaks into the Liuhua Palace only to be captured, his fate uncertain.

Xu Chongfei, helplessly, seeks Fang Xian’s help to rescue his elder brother together.

Then, surprisingly, Fang Xian agreed.

“I’ve always felt there’s a plot hole here…” As the setup for the next scene was somewhat complicated, the director’s assistant hadn’t come to notify them to start filming yet, so Tang Xiaoyu casually discussed the upcoming plot with Ran Lin. “If Fang Xian wants to kill Tang Jingyu to avenge his father, why would he agree to rescue him with Xu Chongfei?”

Before Ran Lin could answer, a puzzled voice suddenly spoke up from not far away. “I also think this is a problem that needs to be studied.”

Lu Yiyao, unnoticed until now, stood at the doorway, smiling as he watched them.

Ran Lin’s heart fluttered slightly but didn’t show it on his face.

Tang Xiaoyu spoke first. “Right? It’s just so weird.”

Lu Yiyao nodded and then turned naturally to Ran Lin, asking, “What do you think?”

Ran Lin frowned slightly, feeling today’s Lu Yiyao was different; the pressing intensity from before seemed to have disappeared, and he was back to being the polite Teacher Lu.

It was a bit disappointing, but mostly comforting.

Ran Lin took a deep breath and then patted the empty chair beside him, motioning for Lu Yiyao to come over. “Come, sit here, and let Fang Xian analyze for you the heart-wrenching journey.”

Lu Yiyao smiled and complied, taking the seat.

Tang Xiaoyu grumbled, “Hurry up, Second Brother.”

Seemingly joking, but when he started speaking, Ran Lin became serious. “Fang Xian’s attitude towards Tang Jingyu can be summed up like so: ‘I must kill you, but I can’t let others kill you.'”

Tang Xiaoyu was puzzled. “I can’t understand this mindset…”

Ran Lin looked at Lu Yiyao. “What about you?”

Lu Yiyao thought for a moment and said, “I can somewhat understand, but certainly not as deeply as you.”

Ran Lin felt a bit flattered by his response.

Suddenly he thought that if Lu Yiyao couldn’t reciprocate his feelings, occasionally praising him like this wasn’t bad either.

“In fact, it’s quite simple.” Ran Lin began his explanation. “Fang Xian wants to kill Tang Jingyu because he must avenge his father, but he can’t let others kill Tang Jingyu because Tang Jingyu is his brother.”

Tang Xiaoyu interjected, “But they’ve already broken their brotherhood oath, right?”

Ran Lin sighed, pointing to his heart. “The oath may be broken, but this can’t just change on a whim.”

After saying this, Ran Lin realized how familiar this gesture was and suddenly remembered the time he and Lu Yiyao had dinner alone, discussing how to be friends. Lu Yiyao had pointed to his heart and said the ultimate reason lay there…

Feeling a bit awkward, Ran Lin instinctively looked at Lu Yiyao.

Their eyes met, and Lu Yiyao naturally said, “I agree with you. No matter how harsh or decisive Fang Xian’s words are, his brotherly bond with Tang Jingyu of over a decade can’t just be broken like that.”

Ran Lin finally realized what was different today. “Why have you been praising me all day…”

Lu Yiyao feigned innocence. “Have I?”

“Yes,” Tang Xiaoyu quickly agreed, providing objective third-party evidence. “Although you and Second Brother always had a good relationship, you liked to tease him when chatting. Today there wasn’t a single tease—all praises—very suspicious.”

Lu Yiyao hadn’t expected his behavior to be so obvious.

He had just reassessed his attitude, feeling like he might have been too casual before and also somewhat remorseful for not being able to reciprocate Ran Lin’s feelings. So, combining these factors, he ended up acting the way he did now.

Well, not only did Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu find it strange, but he also felt a bit awkward.

“You…” Ran Lin leaned in to scrutinize him and asked earnestly, “Are you trying to ask me for a favor?”

Lu Yiyao, not feigning anymore and slightly annoyed, replied, “Yes, I hope in tomorrow’s forest battle scene, you can go easy on me.”

Ran Lin sadly discovered his own masochistic tendency; he enjoyed it when the conversation wasn’t flattering and preferred seeing Lu Yiyao roll his eyes at him.

“Brother, are you stealing my lines?” Tang Xiaoyu finally relaxed; this was the normal atmosphere among the three brothers. “Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be sacrificed tomorrow?”

Lu Yiyao laughed at the joke and was about to respond when the director’s assistant came over to announce that they were ready to start shooting.

The three of them, refreshed, headed for the “Liuhua Palace”.

The entire day’s filming went very smoothly, wrapping up successfully at 10:30 p.m.

This was the most relaxed day Ran Lin had experienced in a while—mentally, at least. Lu Yiyao seemed to have suddenly forgotten about their failed dinner plans, discussing nothing but the script and acting during breaks. After removing makeup, he headed back to the hotel, never mentioning anything else.

Ran Lin didn’t know what had happened, or perhaps nothing had happened at all, and Lu Yiyao simply got tired of insisting and gave up.

It wasn’t possible to be lovers or best friends; stopping at ordinary friends was the most appropriate.

This was the outcome Ran Lin had foreseen, so he accepted it calmly, like still water.

Although the wind was comfortable, it didn’t belong to him and would always blow elsewhere.

That night, back at the hotel, Ran Lin asked Liu Wanwan to bring back a small cake. He closed the door and ate it piece by piece, marking the end of this period of unrequited love—if it could be called that.

After all, to feel sweet inside, one doesn’t necessarily need to pretend to have someone; eating cake is quite nice.

……

The next day, at the Dongyang Forest in Hengdian.

Here, the three brothers, Tang, Fang, and Xu, would engage in a life-and-death battle.

This was a critical scene, second only to the dramatic split between Fang and Tang. Though not as large in scale, it was equally important in terms of plot significance and emotional conflict.

With Writer Song Mang, once again present—dressed in a shiny silver down jacket and accompanying the crew to the small forest—the significance of the scene was evident.

The temperature in Hengdian had dropped sharply in the past two days, nearing freezing, necessitating heavier clothing.

But the actors had it harder.

The three men, about to engage in a fierce battle, sat together, wrapped in heavy coats, facing a box of ice cream and ice cubes, looking utterly despairing.

Ran Lin: “I haven’t even started eating, and my teeth already hurt.”

Lu Yiyao: “Great responsibilities lie ahead for those who eat ice…”

Tang Xiaoyu: “Really, can’t we negotiate with the writer to change it to a winter blood battle?”

All three handsome faces turned to look at Song Mang, not far behind the monitor.

As if sensing their gaze, the writer looked up and back at them.

The three sighed and braced themselves, tossing aside their coats to start eating.

Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu chose ice cream for its flavor.

Lu Yiyao went for the ice cubes, crunching away.

The script set the three men’s decisive battle in the height of summer, but now they were shooting in winter. To prevent the actors’ breath from showing and causing inconsistencies, they had to cool their mouths like this.

The director, feeling pity for them, announced the start of filming as soon as they were almost done eating.

As if understanding the day’s dramatic need, the sky was overcast and gloomy, with thick clouds hanging low. The weather couldn’t be worse.

Fortunately, the location was a densely wooded area that obscured the winter desolation, giving a semblance of summer lushness. Even if there were sunlight, it would be blocked by the forest canopy, with all lighting dependent on the crew’s equipment, so the actual weather didn’t matter.

With a click from the clapperboard, everything else faded away except for the rustling leaves.

Ran Lin, portraying Fang Xian, wore a dark, streamlined outfit that made him look less like a noble son and more like a bounty hunter or assassin. The wind lifted his hair, leaving only a stern and solemn aura, devoid of any frivolous elegance.

Not far off was Lu Yiyao’s character, Tang Jingyu, whose clothes, having been trapped in Liuhua Palace, were tattered and torn, and his face bore wounds. Yet, his gaze remained calm, firmly fixed on Fang Xian.

Standing between the two was Xu Chongfei, clad in a pale moonlight white outfit.

Tang Xiaoyu, deviating from his usual playful demeanor, appeared with furrowed brows and a stern countenance, his usual grace now eclipsed by the looming conflict between his brothers.

“Xu Chongfei, step aside!” Fang Xian suddenly bellowed with force.

“How can I just step aside?” Xu Chongfei roared back, almost bellowing. “To step aside and watch my two best brothers tear each other apart?”

Fang Xian retorted, “If you don’t step aside, then I can’t be brothers with you!”

Xu Chongfei exclaimed in desperation, “Ran Lin, have you gone mad—”

Ran Lin: “……”

The entire crew: “……”

Director Chen: “Cut!”

Tang Xiaoyu’s face was filled with regret as he wished he could bite off his tongue for his slip.

He half-expected Ran Lin to laugh at him, but upon glancing over, he found Ran Lin still glaring furiously at him, his chest heaving with intense emotion.

Tang Xiaoyu suddenly felt the urge to joke fade away.

Turning to Lu Yiyao, who, although not as deeply immersed as Ran Lin, still had a serious, thoughtful expression, not even shifting his position.

Ice cream was passed around, and Tang Xiaoyu grabbed it and devoured several bites, numbing his entire mouth before handing the rest back.

Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin did the same, cooling down their mouths.

As the clapperboard snapped again, Tang Xiaoyu suddenly felt an eerie silence, as if even the wind had stopped blowing. The atmosphere was tense, filled only with Ran Lin’s… no, only Fang Xian’s furious roars, which echoed painfully in everyone’s ears and hearts.

He shouted, “Xu Chongfei, step aside!”

For the first time, Tang Xiaoyu felt as if another soul had entered his body. He didn’t need to deliberate on how to respond or how to act; he simply had to entrust his body to… Xu Chongfei.

“How can I just step aside! To step aside and watch my two best brothers tear each other apart—”

Fang Xian stared at him with eyes red from excitement and other unspeakable reasons, warning, “If you don’t step aside, then I can’t be brothers with you!”

Xu Chongfei was in complete disarray, unsure how to untangle the emotional knots between them. He knew he couldn’t move; one wrong move and all would be lost!

“Why would you save him from Liuhua Palace if you intend to kill him?” Xu Chongfei’s voice was hoarse and strained from shouting, a bitter sorrow in his tone.

Fang Xian gritted his teeth, not really answering Xu Chongfei, but rather convincing himself. “I saved him because I want to be the one to kill him!”

“Then you’ll have to step over my dead body!”

“Don’t force me!”

“It’s you who’s forcing me!!!”

“Chongfei…” Tang Jingyu, who had been silent all this time, suddenly spoke up. His voice was low, laden with suppressed emotions, and yet indifferent. “Step aside.”

“Elder Brother?!” Xu Chongfei looked at Tang Jingyu incredulously.

Tang Jingyu simply shook his head with a hint of a smile, a stark contrast to Fang Xian’s rage.

He said, “Chongfei, step aside. Let him kill me. I’ve avenged myself and have no regrets.”

“So…” Fang Xian trembled. “If Haikong hadn’t poisoned, you would’ve killed my father…”

“Yes,” Tang Jingyu replied without hesitation. “For a vendetta as deep as ours, we cannot coexist under the same sky.”

“…Even if it means using me?” Fang Xian’s voice trailed off, as if he dared not ask the final question, the last word almost inaudible.

Tang Jingyu suddenly laughed—a genuine laugh unlike any before. It was carefree and unguarded; his usual furrowed brows smoothed out, and for once, he seemed light and joyous.

He spoke more clearly. “No need to ask one by one. I’ll tell you everything. If Haikong hadn’t poisoned, I would’ve found my own way to take revenge. Using my identity, using you, using whatever means necessary. I actually hate Haikong for robbing me of the chance to take my own revenge.”

“Tang—Jing—Yu!”

“Elder Brother?!”

Both Fang Xian and Xu Chongfei exclaimed in unison, though with different emotions, one in extreme anger and the other exhausted in body and spirit.

“Why would you say such things!” Xu Chongfei yelled with all his might, then suddenly froze, murmuring to himself as if realizing something. “You want Second Brother to kill you, don’t you? That’s why you’re provoking him…”

Tang Jingyu held back his urge to look away, nonchalantly meeting Xu Chongfei’s gaze, and continued, “You’re overthinking. I’m just telling the truth.” As he spoke, his eyes met Fang Xian’s, and his voice became louder and prouder. “I’ve never regretted using you, Fang Xian. Being used by me is your own folly—”

Fang Xian could no longer listen, drawing his sword with murderous intent towards Tang Jingyu!

Tang Jingyu’s smile faded, his gaze becoming calm, and as if content, he closed his eyes, not moving an inch, as the wind brushed past.

Suddenly, Xu Chongfei leapt forward!

Fang Xian thought he was trying to stop him, his eyes narrowing in intensified rage!

But Xu Chongfei, seemingly wielding a weapon, actually used his body to intercept Fang Xian’s sword!

Fang Xian realized too late that the sword was unstoppable…

“Cut!”

The director’s voice halted the scene, and Ran Lin, who played Fang Xian, stood straight, sword tip touching the ground, head lowered, gathering emotions for the next scene.

Lu Yiyao watched him, feeling a sourness in his heart, unsure if it was for Fang Xian or Tang Jingyu.

Tang Xiaoyu was taken aside by the makeup artist for touch-ups.

Soon after, with a bloodstained chest and a sword protruding gruesomely, he looked both realistic and tragic.

Ran Lin’s sword was taken away, as Fang Xian had already plunged his into Xu Chongfei’s body, leaving no sword in hand.

Tang Xiaoyu quietly approached Ran Lin and softly said, “Hey, it’s your turn to hold me.”

Ran Lin finally looked up, eyes red and moist but tearless, filled with a sorrowful gaze that made Tang Xiaoyu feel equally pained.

“I’m alright,” Tang Xiaoyu assured. “I will always live in both of your hearts, which is great.”

Ran Lin tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it.

After a while, he hoarsely said, “When I first got the role, I knew, of the three of us, you were the most foolish.”

Tang Xiaoyu understood Ran Lin was referring to the initial acceptance of the role of Xu Chongfei but couldn’t discern whether the words were meant for him or the character. His voice was filled with tenderness and sorrow—genuine emotions—not just an act.

As filming resumed, “Xu Chongfei” lay in “Fang Xian’s” arms.

His blood smeared on Fang Xian’s hand, staining his clothes and seeping into his heart.

Tang Jingyu stood at his usual spot, unable to maintain his composed demeanor. He had wanted to die by Fang Xian’s hand as a repayment, but never envisioned it ending like this.

The clapperboard snapped shut, startling a nearby sparrow.

The bird flew through the dense forest, towards the sky, lively and free, like a soul breaking free from its shackles.

Fang Xian couldn’t hold back any longer; a tear fell onto Xu Chongfei’s nose.

He shakily reached out, as if searching for something.

Fang Xian immediately grasped his hand tightly.

“Second Brother…” Xu Chongfei’s voice was intermittent, strained, and weak. “If I can repay the life that Elder Brother owes you, would that be alright…”

Fang Xian shook his head vigorously, his voice trembling fiercely. “Don’t talk nonsense. You won’t die. I’ll take you to Divine Doctor Xue right away…”

“Second Brother.” Xu Chongfei managed a weak smile and a glimpse of his usual mischief in his eyes. “Do you want me to leave with no peace of mind…”

Taking a deep breath, Fang Xian’s tears blurred his vision as he nearly shouted, “Fine! You’ve repaid it! The life of my third brother is most precious. No need to die. Just a wound is enough to repay. Hold on, I’ll find…”

“Bullshit!” For the first time in his life, Xu Chongfei swore. “You only speak nicely when you’re lying…”

“Xu Chongfei, listen well,” Fang Xian declared solemnly. “I, Fang Xian, swear to the heavens that my feud with Tang Jingyu ends here. If I break this oath, I shall meet a terrible end!”

Xu Chongfei, satisfied, couldn’t muster a smile due to the pain, but a smile reflected in his eyes, clear and pure like a lake on a spring day.

“Elder Brother…” Xu Chongfei strained to look at Tang Jingyu, saying with a hint of triumph. “Did you hear that… Second Brother said, the three of us are still brothers…”

Fang Xian didn’t say that—he only mentioned ending the feud.

But Tang Jingyu looked at him firmly and nodded gently. “Yes, still brothers. We did say we’d be brothers for life.”

Their vow was to erase all feuds and grudges—not just the animosity but also the brotherhood.

Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian both knew they could never be brothers again.

But if lies could bring back Xu Chongfei’s life, they were willing to tell them for a lifetime.

“Chongfei—” The person in his arms slowly closed his eyes, and Fang Xian called out in grief.

“I’m, I’m okay…” Xu Chongfei mustered the last bit of his strength, looking at the increasingly blurred Fang Xian. “I want to go back to the Plum Garden…”

The Plum Garden, the place where they swore brotherhood, was where, despite the plum trees, they never had the chance to see the plum blossoms bloom.

In his arms, Xu Chongfei closed his eyes forever.

Fang Xian held him tight, his voice choked with sobs. “Second Brother will take you back…”

……

“Cut!” Chen Qizheng made a deep breath before loudly announcing, “Pass—”

Song Mang was crying silently; if he wasn’t the scriptwriter, he would’ve sent blades to the writer for creating such a heart-wrenching story. How could he have come up with such a plot!

In the monitor, Ran Lin was still holding Tang Xiaoxu.

However, at the moment of “cut,” he immediately opened his eyes but didn’t move; he just looked up at his “Second Brother”.

Ran Lin wasn’t crying anymore, but the tears he shed before lingered in his eyes, about to fall.

Tang Xiaoyu reached out and gently touched his face, earnestly asking, “How do you manage to cry so handsomely…”

Ran Lin was defeated by his words and broke into laughter.

Tang Xiaoyu clambered out of “Second Brother’s” arms and hurried towards “Elder Brother”, wanting to share post-performance thoughts.

Lu Yiyao was still replaying the moment Tang Xiaoyu touched Ran Lin’s face. By the time he snapped out of it, Tang Xiaoyu was already near.

Lu Yiyao quickly extended a hand in a “please stop” gesture.

However, the enthusiastic third male lead was about to crash into him.

Lu Yiyao quickly stepped back, loudly cautioning, “Your sword¹—”

Tang Xiaoyu stopped abruptly, hurt disbelief in his eyes. “I’m cheap¹?”

¹Clarity: Lu Yiyao said sword [jian] (剑) while Tang Xiaoyu thought he was calling him cheap [jian] (贱). They’re homophones..

Ran Lin, feeling something was amiss the moment he ran off, followed and swiftly pulled off the “sword” sticking to Tang Xiaoyu’s chest, showing it to him. “You’re carrying the ‘sword’, Third Brother.”

Realization dawned on Tang Xiaoyu, and he felt the world brighten again.

Lu Yiyao, after this disturbance, completely stepped out of Tang Jingyu’s somber mood, the sorrow slowly fading.

Ran Lin felt a sudden urge to keep this lively “fish” in a glass tank as a mascot.

As he was pondering this, his nose suddenly felt cold.

Ran Lin froze, looking up instinctively.

Through the dense branches, the sky seemed darker than before. The wind had stopped, making everything even more eerily quiet.

His nose felt cold again.

Ran Lin widened his eyes in surprise, belatedly realizing—it was snowing.

……

Snow was rare in Hengdian in winter, and even when it did snow, it wasn’t much.

But this snowfall was different, starting as small flakes and growing into larger ones, creating a scene reminiscent of the north.

The next morning, the sky was clear, but the snow hadn’t stopped. Without any wind, the snowflakes quietly drifted down, slow and graceful.

This delighted the entire crew.

The final scene in the Plum Garden, which was supposed to be set in snowy weather according to the script, was now blessed with real snow. The crew had prepared lime and foam to create fake snow effects—usually the way to go for snow scenes in Hengdian.

But nature had granted them a perfect setting!

The scenery of the Plum Garden wasn’t yet complete, but to catch the snowfall, the crew worked overnight, making the plum blossoms bloom throughout the garden, creating a dreamy and surreal mix of reality and fiction.

The shooting schedule was adjusted, and the final scene was moved up to this day.

When Ran Lin entered the set after makeup, he was mesmerized by the garden’s scenery.

Lu Yiyao was already seated in the garden, his back bearing Tang Jingyu’s solitude and melancholy.

This scene didn’t include Tang Xiaoyu—after all, it was a grave-visiting scene, and the person in the grave showing up would turn the finale into a ghost story—but the dedicated third male lead still followed the crew to watch.

The dawn was breaking, and the snowflakes were getting smaller.

The crew didn’t dare delay and hurried to prepare. As the snow covered the Plum Garden brightened like daylight, all cast and crew took their places, the clapperboard snapped crisply!

Three years ago, in the height of summer, Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian buried Xu Chongfei here.

It seemed they were never destined to see the plum blossoms in bloom, whether during their brotherhood oath or while erecting the tomb, always surrounded by verdant greenery.

After that, the two went their separate ways, never to meet again.

Even when they came to mourn, they avoided Xu Chongfei’s actual death anniversary, one choosing the day before, the other the day after, unspoken yet perfectly in sync.

Today wasn’t any special day, just a regular winter day.

Yet, Fang Xian suddenly realized that the place which held their most cherished and sorrowful memories, he had never once seen the real plum blossoms in bloom.

Once the thought occurred, he couldn’t let it go.

So, Fang Xian came here.

Traveling day and night, for many days, just to see the plum blossoms.

As soon as he arrived at the Moon Gate, he was greeted with the fragrance of the blossoms. The scent was refreshing, as if stirring the deepest memories within one’s heart…

[Fang Xian: Why choose here?]

[Tang Jingyu: A gentleman is like a plum blossom, standing proud and unyielding in frost and snow. What, doesn’t that suit you, Young Master Fang?]

[Xu Chongfei: My fault, my fault, I should have chosen a winter day to bring you two here for the oath.]

[Tang Jingyu: Ignore him. I think this place is good. Chongfei, light the incense.]

That year, surrounded by lush greenery with no plum blossoms in sight.

He, calm as water; he, reckless and free; he, gentle as jade; the three young men swore brotherhood amidst heaven and earth and the mountains and river as their witness…

Fang Xian shook his head, stopping himself from reminiscing further.

Stepping through the Moon Gate, the scent of plum blossoms was stronger, the light snow adding to the vibrant red of the blossoms.

For the first time, Fang Xian saw the garden in full bloom.

It was truly beautiful.

He walked slowly towards the deepest part of the garden, where the largest plum tree stood, under which lay his dearest brother.

Suddenly, Fang Xian stopped.

The largest plum tree came into view, but he stood frozen, unable to move forward.

Beside the stone table under the tree, someone was pouring and drinking by himself.

Amidst the falling snow, he seemed to be murmuring, talking to someone.

He was alone.

But Fang Xian knew he was talking to Xu Chongfei, speaking, and Xu Chongfei listening—because he did the same.

As if sensing an intruder, Tang Jingyu put down his wine cup and looked up warily.

Their eyes met.

In the moment he recognized the visitor, the sharpness in Tang Jingyu’s eyes dissipated, replaced by a faint surprise.

Fang Xian stood there, quietly watching him.

The martial world is vast, so vast that mountains and rivers can separate them forever, yet it’s also small, small enough to fit within a courtyard garden.

A gust of wind came from nowhere, and suddenly, the falling plum blossoms fell like rain.

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