Author: 反舌鸟 / Mockingbird
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Editor: Eli
Chapter 33
When Jiang Yu came back, he heard Yu Ruoyun on the phone.
He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Yu Ruoyun was saying, “Nominate Bo Yan for Best Actor, and I’ll go for Best Supporting Actor…”
Jiang Yu’s forehead veins were about to pop out. Before Yu Ruoyun could finish his sentence, he cut in. “No!”
Yu Ruoyun looked up and noticed Jiang Yu had returned, standing at the doorway.
“I have something to take care of,” Yu Ruoyun said into the phone. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Yu Ruoyun walked over. Jiang Yu had already sat down, sinking into the sofa. Yu Ruoyun sat next to him. Jiang Yu turned his head to look at him, eyes wide open, glaring angrily.
“What are you thinking?” Yu Ruoyun asked him.
Jiang Yu couldn’t help but bite back. “I’m thinking if you love doing charity so much, why not just give me a few Best Actor awards?”
He was indignant for Yu Ruoyun but unwilling to express it directly.
Sure enough, Yu Ruoyun began to explain, “The Golden Key Awards nominations are starting. The director called to discuss it. My role has fewer scenes, so nominating for Best Supporting Actor is reasonable. This is Bo Yan’s first time as a movie lead. Winning would be beneficial for him. If I also compete, the competition would be fiercer. Besides—”
Yu Ruoyun paused, asking, “Do you want to keep listening?”
With the conversation at this point, Jiang Yu had to ask, “Besides?”
“I have no confidence.” Yu Ruoyun laughed. “You watched the movie. You said his role is heavier and more brilliant. If I lose to a co-actor from the same movie, it would be embarrassing. Competing for Best Supporting Actor is different. If he wins, it has nothing to do with me. We didn’t compete. People would say it’s because I went for Best Supporting Actor. Plus, I’ve never won that, so I need that trophy.”
“Still think it’s charity work now?” Yu Ruoyun asked Jiang Yu. “It’s pretty cunning.”
Jiang Yu thought it sounded like he was being placated. Clearly disadvantageous situations were painted with benefits, like a company on the brink of bankruptcy sweet-talking an investor with promises of a bright future. But it was him who wanted to hear it. Yu Ruoyun didn’t need to expose this to him.
“I’m scared to death,” Jiang Yu said. “Didn’t expect you to be this kind of person. I need to stay away from you.”
As he said this, he leaned in for a kiss.
Yu Ruoyun had a faint tobacco scent. Jiang Yu didn’t mind it. In fact, it seemed unique to Yu Ruoyun. He casually asked, “Did you start smoking?”
Yu Ruoyun said, “It’s from you.”
“Hm?” Jiang Yu, while unbuttoning Yu Ruoyun’s shirt, questioned.
“The pack of cigarettes you left, there was half a pack left,” Yu Ruoyun said. “I later bought that brand and sometimes smoked. It reminded me of you.”
So the anti-smoking ambassador, lacking professional ethics, had developed a bit of a smoking habit.
Jiang Yu didn’t reply. He kept his head down, struggling with the buttons on Yu Ruoyun’s shirt. It was harder than he thought. His fingernails hurt, crumpling Yu Ruoyun’s clothes.
Yu Ruoyun sensed something was wrong and held his wrist, asking, “What’s the matter?”
Jiang Yu finally gave up on the troublesome buttons and on resisting Yu Ruoyun. He stayed in the same position but leaned against Yu Ruoyun’s shoulder, feeling exhausted. He didn’t feel like crying. In fact, he felt quite calm. He should’ve known all along, shouldn’t he?
But large teardrops fell on his hand and Yu Ruoyun’s clothes.
“Stop smoking,” Jiang Yu said. “I don’t smoke anymore. You need to live a long life.”
Yu Ruoyun responded with an “Mm,” his voice still steady. Yu Ruoyun was always like this, sometimes almost sounding indifferent, as if all his emotions were poured into his acting. If not for their countless times together in bed, Jiang Yu might have doubted him.
It was hard to imagine that the half-pack of cigarettes Jiang Yu left on the windowsill would become the only remaining scent Yu Ruoyun could find of him. He had left so little with Yu Ruoyun—a lighter, cigarettes, sweat evaporated into the air, clothes ruined by washing, and an invisible, untouchable heart. Nothing else.
“I haven’t smoked in a long time,” Yu Ruoyun said. “Not since you came back.”
Then why start smoking again? Jiang Yu wondered. Maybe he had upset Yu Ruoyun again, but since Yu Ruoyun didn’t plan to say, Jiang Yu didn’t ask further. He thought he would change in the future, recklessly believing he had time to change slowly. But now, the important thing was to kiss.
Undressing Jiang Yu was much easier for Yu Ruoyun. Jiang Yu was very thin. His collarbones formed two hollows, as did his waist. Yu Ruoyun’s fingers slid over him, making Jiang Yu shiver with sensitivity, his skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.
“Hurry up.” Jiang Yu couldn’t bear it, urging him.
In their kisses and passion, Jiang Yu saw Yu Ruoyun’s face.
It flashed through his mind like a carousel: the young Yu Ruoyun debuting on screen, the Yu Ruoyun he glimpsed backstage, the Yu Ruoyun in his twenties smiling while listening to him for the first time.
In Greek mythology, Icarus flew too close to the sun, melting his wax wings and falling into the sea. When Jiang Yu first read this story, he felt a strong resonance for some reason. At that time, he was at a bottleneck, thinking he was like the protagonist, drawn by the temptation of flying high but destined to fall.
Better than those biblical stories always preaching faith in God for eternal life and good rewards. He never believed in them.
But it turned out, for Yu Ruoyun, Jiang Yu was also an unavoidable fate. After falling into the sea, dying, then living again, he saw those eyes.
The imperfect Yu Ruoyun and the never-perfect Jiang Yu still didn’t quite fit together, mismatched everywhere.
Love’s complexity, contradictions, insecurity, and comparisons—he was always human, unable to overcome them. But with Yu Ruoyun here, he still wanted to chase the sun.
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