Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 73

Wuhan in December was a couple of degrees warmer than Beijing in early November.

But that was just a comparison of temperature readings. In reality, Wuhan felt colder, especially when sitting still indoors, where the damp chill was more pronounced.

The room rented by the film crew lacked heating equipment, featuring only an air unit in the living room. Even running all day, its heating effectiveness was limited and made the air extremely dry. However, without it, Ran Lin found himself needing to pace around the room periodically to ward off the cold that seemed to freeze his limbs.

In contrast, Gu Jie was faring much better. While Ran Lin was wrapped in a blanket on the sofa reading the script, Gu Jie would be working out on the spot with his own equipment, doing dumbbell exercises or push-ups on stands—these were just the basics. He also had various other equipment that Ran Lin couldn’t name, and it seemed Gu Jie could effortlessly add more complex routines like balancing on balls or practicing with aerial silk.

Finally breaking a sweat, Gu Jie stood up and grabbed a towel to wipe his face, casting a dissatisfied glance at his companion cocooned on the sofa. “You should exercise too,” he said. “That’s how the body works: the more you move, the more your blood flows; the more your blood flows, the less cold you feel.”

Ran Lin thoughtfully put down his script and asked, “If it were Di Jiangtao, what would he do at home in such a winter?”

“Order takeout, watch TV, daydream, or wallow in self-pity…” Gu Jie grimaced, slinging the towel over his shoulder. “Definitely not exercising to strengthen his body.”

“So…” Ran Lin picked up the script and showed it to Gu Jie. “I am making progress, aren’t I?”

“Why don’t you read the <Dyeing Fire> script instead?” Gu Jie came over, exasperated, and flipped through the pages of the script in Ran Lin’s hands, frowning. “<The Legend of Lantern Blossoms>… What were you thinking when you took this role?”

“The pay is high,” Ran Lin replied honestly.

Gu Jie looked at him incredulously. “So you plan to make up for the lost salary from <Dyeing Fire> with this drama?”

Sighing, Ran Lin shrugged. “It’s not what I planned. It’s what the company plans.”

“You should start your own studio,” Gu Jie casually suggested as he handed the script back to Ran Lin. “Many are doing it nowadays. Be your own boss, no one to manage you, and no commissions taken away.”

“Why don’t you start one?” Ran Lin asked, puzzled, remembering that Gu Jie was still under a management company.

“I’m basically doing the same as owning a studio,” Gu Jie said. “My agent is the boss himself, so he usually gives me professional advice, but whether I take it or not is my decision. If I have ideas, I directly discuss them with him, and he tries his best to support me. We have a pleasant cooperation with no reason to change. Plus, running a studio involves a lot of headaches. Just thinking about it makes my head hurt.”

Ran Lin slumped back onto the sofa, covered in his blanket, and sighed lightly. “I don’t want to deal with all that hassle either. I just want to focus on acting.”

“Speaking of which.” Gu Jie seemed to remember something and moved to the end of the sofa, pushing Ran Lin’s blanket-covered feet inward before sitting down. “We haven’t really practiced acting together, have we?”

It took Ran Lin a great deal of effort to extract his legs, wrapped in the blanket, from the tight space between Gu Jie’s back and the sofa. Sitting up, he said, “It seems we really haven’t…”

The decision to cast him as Di Jiangtao was made over a meal without any audition process. So, he and Gu Jie hadn’t really had a formal acting confrontation.

“Want to give it a try?” Gu Jie’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

Ran Lin swallowed nervously. “Then… let’s give it a try?”

Despite the seemingly unserious phrasing of the suggestion, they were both earnest and professional young men. Besides professionalism, there was also a curiosity about each other’s acting abilities.

Having lived together for a month, Ran Lin and Gu Jie’s friendship had evolved from the pleasant interactions on the Drifting Stories to a deeper understanding of each other. Gu Jie knew Ran Lin needed eight alarms to wake up, as he was tormented by them through the wall every morning. Ran Lin knew Gu Jie needed to exercise morning and evening, sometimes even adding a midday session. Their camaraderie, except for not discussing each other’s romantic lives, left no stone unturned.

As for the romantic aspect…

Ran Lin didn’t know if Gu Jie had a girlfriend—although he tended to think not, lately Gu Jie had indeed been on his phone quite frequently.

Gu Jie didn’t know if Ran Lin had a significant other—although he leaned towards yes, except for the faint talking sounds from next door at night, which Ran Lin deliberately kept low, making it unclear who he was talking to or whether it was sweet nothings.

Fortunately, neither was particularly curious about this aspect of the other’s life. What was more pressing was that they hadn’t really acted together, which was quite unusual.

As soon as he said it, Ran Lin threw off his blanket and ran back to his bedroom to fetch the <Dyeing Fire> script, with Gu Jie doing the same. Eventually, they met in the living room, choosing a scene from the beginning of the story where Xiao Gu suspects Di Jiangtao of surveilling a snack shop owner and visits under the pretext of surveying the neighborhood.

For about half an hour, the living room was silent.

No one spoke. Each occupied a corner, pondering their parts, memorizing their lines.

The scene was set in summer, with humid and stifling air. As he read, Ran Lin miraculously stopped feeling cold and instead felt sticky all over, as if he were indeed blocked by unevaporable sweat in every pore.

Knowing his lines by heart, Ran Lin put down the script and unconsciously stood up, drifting to the window. Through the thick layer of dust on the glass, he couldn’t see anything clearly.

He naturally opened the window. Cold air rushed onto his face, but he felt nothing. Instead, he leaned his forearms on the windowsill, relaxed his shoulders, and let his upper body rest on the ledge—the posture of someone peering out the window.

But he wasn’t looking at the sky; he was looking down at the street.

Without the blurry interference of dusty glass, his view was clear, and he could see everything below.

The seemingly kind and approachable snack shop owner seemed odd in Di Jiangtao’s eyes. He chatted warmly with everyone who came into the shop, whether old residents or new tenants, seemingly as amiable as a community elder.

But something was off.

The snack shop owner was only around thirty, and though his unkempt appearance made him look older than his years, his eyes were those of a young man. They were warm on the surface but held a coldness underneath, and behind his mundane façade was a persistent gaze.

Having seen too many eyes in prison, Di Jiangtao learned to gauge whether a person was approachable or to be avoided just by looking into their eyes. This insight saved him from a lot of trouble.

Now, the snack shop owner’s eyes reminded him of the most ruthless criminals he had seen in prison. Di Jiangtao knew it sounded crazy, so he didn’t intend to convict someone just on a pair of eyes or a gut feeling.

He wasn’t keen on dealing with the police again. He was just intrigued by something interesting amidst his otherwise bleak and hopeless days, and he wanted to follow it through to some conclusion.

The outcome might be right or wrong, end in nothing, or be shockingly unconventional—it didn’t matter.

He needed something to distract himself, to pass the time, and to momentarily forget the estrangement with his family and his alienation from society.

That Lao Zhang came to buy cigarettes again. He was a regular resident who purchased a pack every other day and occasionally some liquor. His life was mundane and predictable.

But the snack shop owner would always step out after he left, pacing casually in front of the shop, seemingly uninterestedly watching his departing figure. If Lao Zhang walked slowly, the shop owner might even manage to watch his back disappear into the distance.

Weird, very weird…

“What are you looking at?”

A sudden, unfamiliar voice came from behind.

Di Jiangtao turned around in shock, meeting the face of Xiao Gu, who was standing at the door in a police uniform.

Di Jiangtao knew this young cop, about the same age as himself, who clumsily bustled around the urban villages…

“How did you open the door?” Di Jiangtao asked with a hostile tone.

Xiao Gu stood immobile at the doorway, not stepping past the threshold, showing a smile typical of a community officer.

“Your door was open. I saw it as I passed and thought to remind you.”

Di Jiangtao relaxed a bit but still felt uneasy. “Is… something wrong in the building?”

He reasoned that the police wouldn’t show up without cause. If they appeared, something must have happened. Xiao Gu was ready with an answer. “There’s been an incident, so I wanted to check with the residents. May I come in and talk?”

“Of course,” Di Jiangtao replied readily, but he didn’t move any closer, still standing by the window as if the distance gave him a sense of security. “Please come in.”

When Gu Jie started speaking his lines, he often felt out of character, but when Ran Lin, who was leaning against the windowsill, turned around, his face seemed to transform in the dim light. It no longer belonged to Ran Lin but to a gloomy, suspicious youth just out of prison, and Gu Jie slowly got into the feeling.

By the time he walked into the living room, he was fully the ambitious young cop, Xiao Gu.

“Do you like to watch outside from the window?” he asked, sitting on the sofa, pulling out a pen and notebook, looking all business.

“Bored, just looking.” Di Jiangtao pulled a smile, a cold one.

Xiao Gu nodded casually. “What did you see then?”

Di Jiangtao didn’t sit but stood by the sofa, leaning on its backrest. His voice was tired and somewhat defiant. “Uncle Officer…” he deliberately emphasized the word ‘officer’. “Which day are you asking about?”

Xiao Gu raised an eyebrow, sizing him up. “From what you say, it sounds like you see something exciting every day?”

Di Jiangtao truly laughed this time. “I…”

Ding dong.

Ran Lin’s line was abruptly cut off by the notification tone of a phone.

Ding dong.

Ding dong.

Ding dong.

The high-frequency ringtone obviously wasn’t going to let him continue.

Ran Lin sighed and glanced at Gu Jie’s phone on the coffee table. Just as his eyes swept over the lit screen, the phone was swiftly snatched away.

Ran Lin was startled by Gu Jie’s action. He hadn’t intended to pry into who was breaking the atmosphere; after all, it was Gu Jie’s phone, so that was his private matter. But Gu Jie’s haste seemed all too telling.

“Girlfriend?” Ran Lin was already out of character. He was no longer the dejected youth Di Jiangtao but the gossiping young Ran Lin.

Gu Jie almost reflexively rolled his eyes. “How could that be.”

Ran Lin frowned. Gu Jie wasn’t good at lying, so his reaction seemed genuine, but that made it all the more suspicious. “Then why are you so nervous?”

Gu Jie hesitated, looking at him for a long while as if searching for the right words, wanting to give a convincing yet elegant explanation…

Ran Lin waited, beginning to feel anxious for Gu Jie, thinking he should just say something, anything, as it would be seen through anyway…

“People,” Gu Jie finally said, “need to have their little secrets, right?”

“…” The most advanced defense in the world is the truth.

In the face of such an honest defense, Ran Lin suddenly felt ashamed of his underhanded curiosity against his partner’s upright aura.

“Fine, keep your little secrets.” Ran Lin went back to his room to put on a jacket and then to the entrance to change his shoes. “I’m going to buy some lunch. What do you want?”

Gu Jie looked at his phone; it was indeed lunchtime. Although he felt a bit guilty for “hiding” something, he was relieved his partner didn’t press further, sparing him from more fabrications.

“Anything’s fine.” Gu Jie wasn’t picky about food.

Ran Lin nodded, slipped on rubber-soled slippers, and left the apartment.

His first stop was the snack shop. From their apartment, one could only see the bicycle shed below. One had to exit the building and turn the corner to see the snack shop.

And the snack shop owner wasn’t the thirty-year-old man from <Dyeing Fire> but an actual kind and friendly aunt.

“Still two bottles of mineral water?” The auntie had already figured out the young man’s routine. He’d come around every day and just buy two bottles of water, which was quite memorable.

Ran Lin, caught off guard by the auntie’s prompt response, deliberately held up four fingers. “Today, I’ll take four.”

The auntie could tell from his accent that the young man was from out of town, but he looked clean and handsome with a polite demeanor, so she quite liked him.

As the auntie fetched the water, Ran Lin looked around the small store. Despite the dim lighting, cramped space, and dusty shelves, the shop was well stocked with an assortment of snacks, groceries, and daily necessities.

Just as the auntie returned with the water, two teenage boys, around seventeen or eighteen, entered. With dyed hair and delicate features, one bought a drink and the other cigarettes.

They didn’t recognize Ran Lin, but he recognized them—they were apprentices from the nearby “Listine Beauty Salon”. Despite its fancy foreign name, it was just a typical, down-to-earth barbershop.

Ran Lin had become thoroughly familiar with this urban village, knowing details as specific as which sewer wells were clear and which were perennially blocked. Perhaps due to his unkempt appearance or lower-than-expected fame, during his month-long stay, no one recognized him. Only once, while buying duck necks, a girl remarked that he looked somewhat like a celebrity… What was his name again?

Ran Lin seriously helped her recall, suggesting, “Lu Yiyao?”

The girl immediately shook her head, declaring that “God Lu” was much handsomer than him!

Recognizing “God Lu” as an insider term, Ran Lin quickly grabbed his duck neck and left before being identified as the one “leeching off the fame”.

After purchasing the mineral water, Ran Lin entered a small restaurant, ordering a vegetarian dish, a braised Wuchang fish, and three servings of rice. The midday sun was warm, even warmer outside than inside. But as soon as he entered the building, the chilly air hit him. The close proximity of the buildings meant the hallways were permanently deprived of sunlight. The fourth floor, where they lived, wasn’t much better. Apart from the living room, where one could peer out, the windows in both bedrooms only offered a view of the neighboring building’s balcony railings—so close one could reach out and touch the steel bars and see everything on the other balcony. Thus, he rarely dared to open the curtains, maintaining a semblance of privacy between neighbors.

Arriving at the fourth-floor security door, Ran Lin knocked, not having brought his keys. Gu Jie opened the door swiftly, convincing Ran Lin he’d already dealt with his “private matter”.

The TV was on in the living room. As Ran Lin entered, he initially paid no attention to it until he heard a very familiar line.

“From now on, you and I will have such swords together.”

Ran Lin felt embarrassed as he handed the bag of takeout to Gu Jie, while taking off his cotton slippers and switching to indoor ones. “Why are you watching <Sword of Fallen Flowers>?”

“It was on when I flipped through channels,” Gu Jie replied as he arranged the food on the coffee table. “Actually, I haven’t watched it yet.”

Ran Lin understood. He usually didn’t watch much TV either, unless studying performances by seasoned actors. Otherwise, he preferred classic films, especially considering the limited free time artists have.

Seeing that Gu Jie hadn’t watched it before, Ran Lin immediately offered, “Do you want a brief introduction to the backstory?”

Without hesitation, Gu Jie shook his head. “I can follow along and understand the plot instantly.”

Ran Lin was impressed. “Impressive.”

Gu Jie looked at him seriously, stating, “It’s because you all performed well.”

Ran Lin was taken aback, the praise coming so unexpectedly that he was completely unguarded, and his heart immediately began to dance with joy.

Gu Jie actually wanted to compliment him further, as the characters Fang Xian and Di Jiangtao felt entirely different to him, and he couldn’t reconcile them as the same person despite them having the same face. But seeing Ran Lin’s reaction, he worried that more praise might make his friend overly elated, so he swallowed the rest of his words.

So, the two of them finished their lunch while watching <Sword of Fallen Flowers>. They had a silent understanding of each other’s preferences—Ran Lin ate one portion of rice, while Gu Jie ate two, a harmony developed over their time living together.

After lunch, they wandered around the apartment to digest their meal. When they felt ready, they picked up their earlier interrupted scene and went through it again.

This time, no interruptions occurred, and the two got more and more into the act, continuing until dusk fell and the lights came on.

Then, a rapid knock on the door sounded.

The first knock came just as Ran Lin was in the midst of a roar. In the scene, Xiao Gu and Di Jiangtao had temporarily allied, agreeing to suspect the snack shop owner. Di Jiangtao would act as a grassroots informant, reporting the owner’s activities. But they had barely begun collaborating when a fierce argument erupted.

Just as Ran Lin was halfway through his line, the knocking started, but he couldn’t stop mid-sentence and had to finish, causing the knocking to grow more urgent, matching the argumentative atmosphere inside.

Unable to detach from Di Jiangtao’s emotions, Ran Lin instinctively yelled, “Who is it—”

The knocking abruptly stopped.

Ran Lin startled himself, initially annoyed because the visitor could only be the director. But instead of being polite, he yelled…

The knocking turned into banging, becoming increasingly intense as if challenging him to shout again.

Ran Lin, frustrated and seeing Gu Jie frozen in place, went to open the door himself.

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” His tone softened, despite his internal complaints, out of respect for the director.

Click.

The lock clicked open, and Ran Lin pushed the door ajar. Suddenly, a hand reached in and yanked it open, and before Ran Lin could see clearly, a dark figure pounced on him—

“Surprise!”

Ran Lin staggered backward, nearly losing his balance, but was caught by someone’s arm, stabilizing him. Then, holding onto Xia Xinran, he looked over the beauty’s shoulder to meet eyes with the “arm’s owner” standing behind him.

Lu Yiyao wore a gray jacket, his hair unstyled with a bit of a disheveled fringe, which, along with the weight he hadn’t fully regained, left his face looking thinner. This made him lack the usual dashing “God Lu” persona. If he intentionally kept his head down, using his fringe to cover his eyes, even on the street, only his true fans would recognize him.

Clearly, to come here inconspicuously, the typically appearance-conscious lover had thrown caution to the wind. But to Ran Lin, it didn’t matter. Whether Lu Yiyao was fat or thin, energetic or gloomy, he liked him all the same and thought he was chaotically handsome…

“I know what you’re thinking.” Xia Xinran lifted his head from his friend’s embrace with a pitiable look. “But for the sake of my enthusiasm, shouldn’t you at least reward me with a glance?”

“I’ve told you before.” Gu Jie, who was slow to react, sauntered to the entryway and sighed at Xia Xinran. “That your kind of enthusiasm doesn’t fit our reserved Eastern culture.”

Ran Lin was surprised by Gu Jie’s reaction, barely managing to pull back a bit of sense from the shock of seeing his lover. Just as he was about to turn and ask, he heard Gu Jie greeting Lu Yiyao. “Long time no see.”

Lu Yiyao also smiled back at Gu Jie. “All well, I hope.”

Ran Lin, embracing the friend hanging on him, was utterly baffled. Why did everyone seem so natural, and he was the only one out of the loop?

Before Ran Lin could ask, Lu Yiyao grabbed Xia Xinran first, prying him off Ran Lin’s body. “That’s enough of that.”

Xia Xinran pouted, clearly reluctant, but considering it was in front of the actual partner, he refrained from making a fuss.

Feeling the sudden weight reduction, Ran Lin finally found the opportunity to speak. “What brings you guys here?”

Xia Xinran obediently stepped aside, gesturing with his eyes to Lu Yiyao—Your turn to perform.

But Lu Yiyao simply smiled and passed the look to Gu Jie—Good brother.

Gu Jie, ever the loyal friend, promptly clapped Ran Lin’s shoulder. “Surprise visit, isn’t it obvious?”

Ran Lin, unsure, looked at Gu Jie. “So you knew all along?”

He suddenly realized, “Was that daytime WeChat from Xia Xinran?”

The frequency of the “ding-dong” messages, sending several in a row, was unmistakably “The Xia’s family style”.

“I know you guys are close,” Gu Jie admitted freely, “so when Xia Xinran said Lu Yiyao wanted to surprise you, as a friend, of course, I had to help.”

Ran Lin swallowed hard, cautiously confirming. “Xia Xinran told you, this is a surprise from Lu Yiyao for me?”

“Actually, even if he hadn’t said, I would have known,” Gu Jie said with a face full of “you can’t hide anything from me” confidence. “Dressing up and making a special trip here for a surprise visit is something only hardworking Teacher Lu would do. This is a real friendship, quite rare indeed!”

Ran Lin: “……”

Looking at the innocent-faced Gu Jie, Ran Lin really wanted to pat his friend’s shoulder and respond with an affirmative, “You’re quite something, too.”

With mixed feelings, he redirected his gaze back to Lu Yiyao and Xia Xinran—You guys aren’t feeling guilty for deceiving Gu Jie like this!

Xia Xinran raised an eyebrow—We’re not deceiving. It’s indeed a surprise from Lu Yiyao.

Lu Yiyao’s eyes twinkled—I missed you.

Ran Lin: “……”

Alright, he conceded.

“Don’t all stand here. Come on in—” Gu Jie, not understanding why the conversation had halted, quickly ushered them.

Ran Lin looked at Gu Jie, vowing to be even kinder to his friend from now on.

Since entering, Lu Yiyao’s eyes hadn’t left Ran Lin. It had been too long since he’d seen Ran Lin in three dimensions, as he was used to the flatness of video calls. Now he couldn’t bear to look away, not for a second.

“Already diving into the script?” Xia Xinran noticed the script on the coffee table.

Gu Jie, while collecting both scripts, replied, “We were practicing lines.”

Xia Xinran wasn’t concerned about the “practicing” or “memorizing”, but he felt mixed about Gu Jie’s actions. “Are you that afraid of me seeing the script?”

Gu Jie had a solid reason. “The director said the script must absolutely not be leaked.”

Xia Xinran objected, “I’m not going to tell anyone. Can’t I even take a look?”

“If you really won’t tell anyone, actually, you could look.”

“Then why are you holding it so tight?”

“Because the actual situation doesn’t fit the ‘if’.”

“Do I look like I have a big mouth to you?”

“……”

“Your silence has wounded me.”

Xia Xinran and Gu Jie’s friendship always grew amidst their banter upon meeting, and Ran Lin was used to it by now.

As for Lu Yiyao, he hadn’t even heard the other two bickering…

“My confidentiality work isn’t too bad, right?” This was something Lu Yiyao was particularly proud of, especially recalling Ran Lin’s bewildered face when he first opened the door. He could savor that moment for a year.

Ran Lin looked at the person he’d been thinking of day and night, filled with surprise, yet his mouth couldn’t help but tease, “Was this a spontaneous idea, or did you plan it meticulously?”

“First spontaneous, then meticulously planned.” Lu Yiyao’s mouth curved upwards uncontrollably. “And you always said there’s a lot of good food here—better to taste it yourself.”

“How long will you stay?”

“Three days.”

“Didn’t get caught on the way here?”

“Xia Xinran got recognized, not me.”

“Normal. His face is too pretty.”

“While waiting for a taxi, he was ranting next to a hospital billboard with his face on it, complaining about infringement of his portrait rights, attracting onlookers.”

“……”

Having wrapped up his “courtesy” exchange with Gu Jie, Xia Xinran rolled his eyes massively in their direction. “Can’t you guys have a decent conversation when you meet? Don’t drag innocent bystanders into this.”

“Who’s innocent?” Ran Lin imagined the scene and felt a headache brewing. “Maybe tonight Weibo will have posts about you and an unidentified man out together.”

“Then we should strike first,” Xia Xinran suggested, pulling out his phone. “Time for a reunion photo of the Drifting Group!”

Ran Lin understood.

That was indeed a good strategy—nothing more positive than a gathering of four old friends.

Just as he was about to join Xia Xinran, Lu Yiyao said, “Wait a moment. I need to use the bathroom.”

After finishing speaking, his lover stood up from the sofa. Ran Lin quickly pointed in the direction. “It’s over there.”

Lu Yiyao nodded and hurried away.

“Why can’t you just take the photo and then go? How long does it take to snap a picture…” Xia Xinran grumbled but still took out a selfie stick from his bag, set up his phone, and started adjusting the angles on himself.

Five minutes later, everything was ready. Ran Lin, Xia Xinran, and Gu Jie squeezed together on the sofa, shoulder to shoulder, head against head, smiling at the camera above…

“I can’t anymore. My arm’s aching.” Xia Xinran could no longer hold up the selfie stick and put it down, turning his head towards the bathroom and shouting, “Teacher Lu, did you travel through time?”

Xia Xinran’s call seemed to work; before the echo faded, Lu Yiyao had already emerged from the bathroom. Then, Xia Xinran was stunned. “Holy…”

Ran Lin and Gu Jie, not understanding the reason, also turned their heads to look in the direction of the bathroom. Then, they were stunned. “What the…”

Lu Yiyao’s fringe had been combed back, revealing a clean forehead, making his whole face instantly bright and handsome. His hairstyle was neatly arranged with mousse, tidy yet dashing. His peach blossom eyes seemed more spirited than before, slightly squinting, enough to electrify the room. Even his somewhat thin cheeks no longer looked haggard but rather sharply defined and masculine.

In short, the man standing at the bathroom door was completely different from the one who had entered. Now, he shone like the brightest star, not even a backdrop of roses could distract from his dazzling presence…

“Is there mousse in the bathroom?” Gu Jie had a ton of questions, but the most pressing was this. After all, he and Ran Lin had been going barefaced, fully immersed in their characters. Aside from essential daily items, the bathroom only had toilet paper.

“No.” Lu Yiyao shook his head readily, ending with a smile. “I brought my own.”

Xia Xinran: “Eyeliner and foundation too?”

Lu Yiyao: “Absolutely not. I just washed my face.”

Gu Jie still couldn’t understand. “So why suddenly get all dolled up…”

Ran Lin patted Xia Xinran’s shoulder, crossing over him. “Idol’s burden. Try to understand.”

Gu Jie: “……”

At Xia Xinran’s “one, two, three,” all four smiled at the camera. Lu Yiyao, right next to Ran Lin, had the most charming smile, as if his eyes carried eight hundred million volts of electricity.

In the moment the photo was taken, Gu Jie finally accepted Ran Lin’s explanation. After all, Lu Yiyao was a popular star; a little idol’s burden was normal… but Lu Yiyao had gone to the bathroom, not a makeup room. How did he manage to completely refresh his appearance and aura in just a few minutes?

This wasn’t just washing his face; it was a complete makeover!

While Gu Jie was still shocked by Teacher Lu’s extraordinary skills, Xia Xinran had already posted the group photo on Weibo—[Winter gathering~~ 🐰]

He didn’t tag anyone, but the four faces in the photo were unmistakable.

Ran Lin retweeted with a laughing emoji.

Gu Jie retweeted with a clinking beer mugs emoji.

Lu Yiyao didn’t retweet but liked all three people’s posts.

Comments flooded in, especially under Xia Xinran’s post, where the conversation was most lively, with new comments popping up every few seconds.

The initial comments were all about—

[Ahhh, Xia Xia is so beautiful!]

[Licking the screen!]

[Who’s my husband? It’s so hard to choose…]

Until a sharp-eyed netizen noticed the truth—[Is it just me, or does it seem like only God Lu is wearing makeup and the others are barefaced?]

Immediately, God Lu’s fans came to reply, posting a photo of Lu Yiyao’s other barefaced selfies for comparison—[This is what God Lu looks like barefaced [photo]]

Then a veteran God Lu fan came to explain—[No matter the occasion or what photo he’s taking, God Lu is always serious. He always wants to present his best. It’s his obsession 😭.]

When Ran Lin scrolled to this comment, he felt like giving that fan a high five.

The three didn’t browse Weibo for too long before they set out into the night to find good food. Ran Lin led the way, Gu Jie acted as a bodyguard, and Lu Yiyao and Xia Xinran followed obediently like two tourists.

They were unaware that while they were out eating, the direction of the conversation on Weibo had shifted briefly.

It started with just a few people asking—[The Drifting Group reunited, but why isn’t Zhang Beichen there?]

Then Zhang Beichen’s fans explained—[He entered a new drama set for <Mint Green> a week ago.]

Just as the discussion was about to heat up, Zhang Beichen retweeted Xia Xinran’s post from Gu Jie—[Missing one 😭]

Thus, the voices questioning why Zhang Beichen wasn’t included died down. Even though some questioned why the other four didn’t respond to him, since they hadn’t interacted much after the initial retweets and likes, these questions never really made a big impact.

They also didn’t know that in a villa in the capital, a girl who had seen her brother’s liked Weibo post was now meticulously studying the group photo—

In the photo, her brother and Gu Jie were on opposite ends, with Ran Lin and Xia Xinran in between. The farther apart they were, the more suspicious it seemed. Truly innocent relationships, like her brother’s and Ran Lin’s, would be close together, with no avoidance.

More importantly, some girls commented that they had seen Xia Xinran waiting for a taxi in Wuhan that day, deducing that the gathering was in Wuhan. Fans also provided information that neither Lu Yiyao nor Xia Xinran had recent activities scheduled in Wuhan. Instead, it was Gu Jie and Ran Lin who were supposedly experiencing life in Wuhan for their upcoming movie <Dyeing Fire>.

Putting all the clues together led to the conclusion—her brother had specially gone to visit the set. Knowing him for many years, she had never seen him make such an effort to visit a colleague’s set. Saying there was nothing unusual between him and Gu Jie, who would believe that!

Although Lu Yimeng had long suspected that her brother’s many years of not having a serious girlfriend might not be for a simple reason, when the suspicion became a reality, her feelings were quite complex.

Haa, being too accurate with her sixth sense was quite sorrowful indeed.

……

Whether it’s the undercurrents in the online world or the worries of a sister in a capital villa, the “Foodie Four” were oblivious.

Ran Lin led the “newcomers” through an entire street of delicacies, and by the time they returned to their residence, all four felt a bit heavier in body.

The hallway light had been broken for a long time, unrepaired, so at night it was pitch black.

“Gu Jie, walk slower…” Xia Xinran cautiously illuminated the path with his phone’s flashlight, stepping carefully up each stair, feeling an eerie chill from unknown corners.

Ran Lin followed behind Xia Xinran, quite relaxed, as he had become accustomed to it after living there for over a month. However, Lu Yiyao at the back might not have been so at ease. Considering this, Ran Lin looked back and said, “Watch your…”

His words were halted mid-sentence by the warmth transmitted through their hands.

“…steps.”

Ran Lin finally finished his sentence, then pursed his lips and fell silent, but his hand moved, changing from being held to intertwining fingers.

The moment their fingers locked, Lu Yiyao gripped tightly. Ran Lin felt a bit of pain from the grip, but along with the pain, there seemed to be something else.

In the pitch-black hallway, no one could see each other’s faces. But the strength and warmth of the hand were very real.

It was less like holding hands and more like an embrace, a kiss—everything lovers could do. The long-suppressed longing, once released, was like this—first a slight pain, then slowly, it became sweet.

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